#no more wrist pain neither

[milfbro]

dude honestly I made a miraculous recovery since yesterday??? I barely feel any pain at all?

this is surreal

[bluetimeombre]

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ And I wouldn't marry me, either.

You were Azriel's mate, but it took losing you three times for him to realise.

[this is long. i'm talking 5k words long so i've split it into two parts. anyway, azriel is the best bat boy and no i won't hear anyone out. i'm so excited to write for him and hope you enjoy. it's very angsty but that's what i love. i hope i can write more for him and maybe other characters if you like. it's been a while since i've actually read the series so if any information is wrong, do let me know. also it was my first time using the term y/n and yes, i cringed NOT PROOF READ... enjoy]

warnings: references to sexual assault and references to suicide. nothing explicit but please don't read if this is sensitive to you.

Part 2 soon…

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The first, was the worst...

You were Rhys's half sister, the bastard daughter of his father. But when your mother had died giving birth to you, Rhysand's mother took you in and raised you with your brother and sister. You were so little and adorable that your sister loved you at once. Rhys did to, at some point of your life, you were sure he actually cared about you.

But when his mother and sister had died, his eyes shifted, he started to look at you with contempt. After all, you were only his half-sister. The worst half. He only kept you around because it's what his mother would have wanted.

And because there was no way Cassian and Azriel would ever let anything happen to you.

Besides, Rhysand knew when to use you.

Although Azriel was his spymaster, you were pretty good at staying swift-footed too. And you were frankly, very terrifying when you wanted to be.

You tread with power through the war camps, all of them looking at you as you went. All of their gazes wrecked with a predatory gaze. They either wanted to have their way with you, or kill you. Or both.

Rhys had said you could handle it, it was only supposed to be a check in. Cassian hadn't liked it, neither had Mor but it was Azriel who had almost- and for the first time- disobeyed his high lord to accompany you. But no, your brother wanted you to do this alone, so alone you would.

Just to show him you could.

'I can come with you,' Azriel had said, standing in your room as you tied your boots up. 'I won't even have to be seen.' At that, his shadows wrapped up your calf.

You smiled at them, as if they were his own pet. 'I'll manage just fine. Besides, i'm sure that's what Rhys wants, me needing a man.'

It had done nothing to calm your friend. The worry was still stuck between his brows, marring his handsome features. You'd held his cheeks, your wings hiding the two of you. His large ones (enough to swallow the both of you) over-lapped yours.

It was the last time you'd feel your wings.

The war camp wasn't as easy as you'd hoped. It was terror and horror in a place. You'd been to the court of nightmares, you'd gone to the slaughter of the spring court after they killed your family. But this, this was hell of another kind.

You had no idea how many days you'd been locked up, wrists bound in chains and hanging from the cell roof above you. Blood rolled down your arms from the force you'd tried to use to get them out. Your eye was swollen shut and your body trembled in pain.

All because they wanted to know your brothers secrets, and you wouldn't budge.

Your check was only supposed to be a day, but you were sure it had been longer. Days of endless pain and torture. Your uniform hung in rags of stripped material, your hair matted with blood and hiding your face.

You'd used the last of your energy to keep your walls up. You weren't anyone's mate, you didn't have anyone on the other end trying to feel what you felt. But should Rhys come looking (though you doubted it) you didn't want him to feel it. You didn't want anyone in your mind.

The gates opened with a sickening clash.

One of the Illyrian's knelt in front of you, his wings hiding those coming in behind you. 'Listen sweetheart. I don't want to make this any harder than it's about to get. All you have to do is tell us your brother's hide outs.'

You grit your teeth, staring down at the ground.

'So loyal, to a man who doesn't care if you live or die.'

Suddenly, your wings twitched as hands grasped them. Brute hands, the sort you wouldn't want touching any part of you.

Fear spiked in you, horror twisting your gut. 'What are you doing?'

'I told you I didn't want to get things messier, darling.'

You whipped your head from side to side, trying and failing to get a look at the assailants behind you. Your wings were being held apart, no matter how hard you tried to bat them away. You knew the sort of people they were, and what they did to girls like you.

That's when the begging started. 'No, no please. Anything. I'll do anything! Beat me, kill me, rape me, not my wings, please!'

'Anything?' the bastard asked, tongue poking out from his lips. 'Then tell me where your lord's hideouts are?'

You should betray him, you thought. He would never lose his wings for you. Perhaps it was stubbornness that kept you from, or maybe you were clinging to the last bit of love you want from him.

The bastard scoffed, 'anything, she says. Your brother has his own bitch wrapped around his finger.'

That's when they started hacking at your wings.

Your screams tore through your throat, blood spitting and dripping down your chin. Tears soon joined when they hacked away at the bone, the membrane, the flesh of it all. The three of them worked through your screams and your tears and your pain, tearing and cutting at it like it was nothing more than paper.

Not your whole life.

Let them hear you. You hoped your brother heard you, you hoped all and every court heard the pain.

Eventually, even you couldn't keep screaming. The only sound was the hacking away at your wings and the drops of blood.

'Now look at these beauties. I've got a perfect spot on my wall for these.'

They left you after that. There wasn't much more damage they could do. It already felt like they'd destroyed your life. You had never really thought about your wings, they were just part of you, as much as your wit or hair was. But they'd took it and now, you felt empty. Never would you fly with Azriel again, or use your wings to smack Cassian over the head.

Rhys, your dear brother, had took that from you.

The days blended in together after that. You were pooled in your own tears and blood, vomiting up anything they forced down your throat. No, they'd made it very clear they didn't want you dead. They just took pride in making it feel like you were.

At some point, you'd stopped reacting to the gate opening. You let them do whatever they wanted with you. Your wrists were still chained, arms still hanging up, your clothes hanging on your thin body in strips of dirt.

'No...' you heard a mumble. 'What have they done to you?'

Suddenly, the chains gave way and you lurched forward, with no strength to catch you. Luckily, you didn't have to, as strong and warm arms pulled you into his chest.

'Hey, wake up, look at me, dammit.'

Azriel.

You'd know the voice in the darkest days, in the pit of your worst nightmare you'd know.

You try to speak but your head's heavy, your lips are stone and your arms can't lift to hold onto him. You're exhausted, you're dying. The only thing you could do use all your strength to try to open your eyes.

'Please, please, look at me. You have to look at me,'

You were trying, you wanted to tell hm, snap at him, but you couldn't.

You felt Azriel shake, or maybe you were. Then, there was wet drops landing on your cheeks- you flinched.

'I'm sorry, i'm sorry. Rhys! Rhys! hurry up, please!' he was screaming. You'd never heard him scream before.

You heard the rush of feet at the cell doors, you knew it was your brother. You knew it from the presence of him, from the shuffling of feet and chocked sob. Your brother didn't cry, least of all for you.

'Her wings, oh mother, her wings,' said Azriel, his voice barley above that of a whisper.

Your wings. You didn't need reminding. They were gone, long and far gone. You were without a part of you, the very part of your soul that loved to be free. Never would you watch the stars up close or fly over everyone. Never race Cassian or make jokes with Az.

No, this would destroy you.

'y/n,' your half-brother called. 'No, y/n. Can you hear me?'

Your lips parted, mumbling. 'Hurts.'

Azriel's grip on you tightened. 'I know, we're gonna get you out of here, just hold on for me.'

You wanted to tell him you would hold on, you'd always need to hold on to him. That, no matter what he asks, you'd do it. To kill, to live, to breathe, to die.

And that's when it clicked. Amongst all the pain and the doubt. In your blood soaked clothes. In the fear you wouldn't make it, there was a tug. Weak and one-sided, but there. You knew you'd be safe with Azriel, knew you would always be with him.

Mate.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The pain subsided to a dull ache, there and beating but not excruciating. You were warm and covered in a soft material. Nothing like the cell you'd been kept in. Your fingertips sunk into something soft- a bed. Your bed. It was familiar in its lavender scent to you and the silk wrapped around you gave you some semblance of warmth.

Your wings.

Even coming to consciousness was difficult. You were exhausted but light, without the weight of wings holding you down. You'd never realised how much you needed to feel that weight, to feel pulled down in order to be free.

Gone, all gone.

Your hand twitches around something cold, a shadow holding your hand, creeping up your side.

'You're awake, thank the couldron.'

It wasn't Azriel, master of the shadows. It wasn't your mate. Mate. The word replayed like a terrible song in your mind.

How dare the mother do this to Az. How dare he- nothing but loyal and kind- get stuck with a person made in darkness, who bled shadows, who's heart was so full of hate there wasn't room for love. They'd cursed Az, with you.

But luckily it wasn't him, it was Rhysand.

'It really happened,' you whispered, voice hurting from the screams.

He sighed. 'I'm sorry, i'm so sorry. We-we thought you weren't going to make it, you'd lost so much blood.'

In spite of the pain in your shoulders, you made a shift, turning from him as he ranted on about your condition.

'y/n... sister, please,' he said. He'd never called you sister before. He'd always been content to treat you just like you worked for him.

'Leave me alone.' you couldn't bare to look at him, couldn't bare to face him. The shadows at your hand grew heavier, as if more were piling on. You stretched your fingers away from them, trying to get them off you.

'Are you in any pain?' asked Rhys.

'Get out,' you mumbled.

The end of your bed dipped where Rhys settled, hand splayed on the covers, begging for your hand. 'y/n.'

'Get out!' you snapped, body tense and straining. You felt your wounds open up, blood wetting the bandage around you. But you didn't care. You'd happily bleed if you couldn't fly. A part of you, sick part of you wanted to be left there. It would be better than false sympathy.

Be better than your mate being disgusted.

'Get out!' you yelled again, voice tearing through an aching throat.

'I just want to help you! please, let me help you!' said Rhys, standing from your bed and walking around, trying to face you.

'I don't want your help!' you screamed. You reached for the closest thing you could, a jug of water and chucked it toward him. You aim was terrible, marred with pain and exhaustion. 'Get out!'

Though hesitant, Rhysand slowly started walking back to your door. He did it all looking at you, his hands out to show he wasn't gonna hurt you, but you didn't care. You went for the glasses next and chucked them but they landed against the door which he disappeared through.

Before it slid close you caught sight of Cassian , Mor and Azriel. All crowded, all waiting to see you.

You'd be happy if you never let them see you again.

'Can we see her?' you hear Mor ask.

'Give her time,' said Rhys.

The shadows at your hand grew heavier, darker, tighter.

'Go away!' you yelled at them. To anyone else, you probably looked crazy, screaming to darkness. But the shadows understood. They departed, slithering away and under the crack of your door where you could see the shadows of feet.

Tumbling from bed, you stumbled over and locked the door, leaning on it to and catching your breath. Your nightgown was starting to get sticky with blood all over again. When you closed your eyes, you pictured the cell, the rough hands holding you down, the chain keeping you up.

And the pain, it all washed over you. The hacking at your back, the sting of a slap. It hit you like a tone of bricks as you slid to the floor.

There was a knock, rattling the door.

'y/n,' Cassian. 'Please let us in.'

Us. You felt him on the other side. Your mate, his presence lingering. His shadows under the door, wanting to come in but keeping their distance.

He didn't know. It hadn't snapped for him, you could tell. It was one tug on your end, a chord in your heart. At least he couldn't feel what you did. At least you could shoulder it alone.

'Please.' his voice was almost your un-doing. He sounded so sad, so desperate. It hurt you just to think you were hurting him.

Tears streamed down your face as your curled your fingers into a tight fist. You assumed Mor had left with Rhys, leaving you there with the males.

Cass was always like a brother to you. Granted- a brother you had slept with once or twice- but he was your best friend. You'd always been close to him. But you'd always been good, a happy person.

You couldn't be that for them now, perhaps ever again.

It lasted like that for hours. Cassian and Az begging to come in, you curling into a ball with tears down your cheeks and blood down your back.

Eventually, they gave up. You couldn't hear them anymore and the shadows of their boots had disappeared.

Except Azriel's shadows that still lingered under your door. Maybe he'd ordered them to be there while they left you.

Eventually, you managed to find your footing on shaking legs. Your room was large, one of the largest. It was just as much a mess as it was when you'd left for you mission, clothes thrown over the place, books propped open on the pages you'd left them on. Everything was the same but could never be again.

It took you longer than you'd care to admit to get to your windows and throw the curtains close. Candles light at your request, the house looking after you as it had since you were a child.

You caught sight of yourself in the full length mirror. It seemed smaller, everything in the room felt too large and you too small, as if you were being swallowed by the expanse of it.

Your frame was small in the mirror, your hair disarrayed. Your eyes were red and shutting of their own accord from the tears that had drained you. The starving in the cells had made you look weak, made you feel weak.

And your back. There was no more looming black figures there, no more fluttering. There was just nothing. In spite of the ache as you lifted your arm, you felt around your back, feeling the hitch there, the lump from where they'd been torn from you.

You cry. You sob. You scream.

The scars were long and the nightdress was sticking to you by the blood you'd shed. All you could do, was hold yourself up as your body wracked with tears.

A breeze came from your windows, shadows tugging at the curtains.

You felt him before you saw him. You wanted to tell him to leave you but you couldn't talk without chocking. Without feeling like you couldn't breath.

Azriel had you in your arms before your knees could hit the ground. He fell with you, softening your body on the floor. His arms held you into his chest, his legs caging you into his body. His head rested on yours as he held you. He didn't try to talk, he didn't try to help. It was just him, you and his shadows.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Azriel remembered dozing off with you, his head on yours. His arms holding you into him, as if it was up to him to keep the sadness away and take it for you.

Afterall, you were his best friend. He should have been there for you, and he'd failed terribly by letting you get hurt and your wings stolen from you. He could hate himself every day for it, for letting you down. But it would never amount to what you felt for yourself and that killed him.

He could see it in the way you cried, in the way you were already keeping everyone out. He'd rather die than let you go through all the pain alone.

When his hands had been scarred by his brothers, you'd help heal him, tell him about everything he still was and all the power he still held in his hands. In the worst days, when he didn't let anyone touch him, he let you.

It was always you.

Azriel wasn't sure how long he'd been asleep, or how deep. He was sure he was still with you, still in your bed.

His shadows crept up on him, engulfing him slowly and whispering to him. Your name, just your name on repeat. It was enough to lull him back into sleep, to keep him calm.

Gone. Missing. y'n. Roof.

He shot up and ran fastest than he ever had in his life. It was as if he'd never been asleep but had been fighting a battle with the way he raced over.

He burst through the doors, the cold hight air hitting him.

You stood facing the stars, your bloody back to him. It wasn't as much blood as when he'd found you, but it was still enough to put a lump in his throat.

Immediately his shadows fell to you, cascading down your body and wrapping around your waist. There was a breeze in the air, pushing your hair back and exposing more signs of the pain and torture you must have gone through.

'I'm not gonna jump, if that's what you're thinking,' you said. You didn't even have to turn to him. The shadows probably told you enough.

'Why are you up here?' he asked, walking to you slowly and with careful steps. As if every step closer could you push you away from him.

'I'll never feel the win properly again,' you answered.

Azriel gulped down his own pain. You’d never sounded so small. ‘Can you get away from the ledge?’

'I'm not on the ledge.'

'You're too close for my liking.'

'Leave if you don't like it.'

'Don't do this,' he said.

'Do what?' you asked, folding your arms over your chest. You were cold, out in the hight but you wanted to see the stars. Needed to see them.

'Make me leave. Make everyone leave you. I know that's what you're doing. It's what you do every time,' you could feel him dawning closer. His shadows were all around you, almost drowning you.

‘Every time,’ you scoff, stepping down and turning on him. ‘It’s not every day you lose your wings Azriel! But don’t let me stop you from leaving, flap them and go!’ You yelled, unable to stop yourself, no matter how hard you tried. You didn’t want to hurt him, you just wanted to be alone.

Mate. Mate. Mate.

'You jump and I’ll catch you,' he said. He was a step away, he could just reach out and touch, just a gentle caress. 'I swear it, whatever you do, I’ll follow. I’m not letting you get away.’

He watched your back shudder as he reached out, brushing knuckles against your shoulder blade. He heard your sharp inhale follow.

'Don’t think I won’t follow, y/n.'

Finally, you turned around in his shadows. You couldn’t meet his eyes but at least you could face his chest.

His hands were gentle on your shoulder as he rubbed it gently. 'Can I get Madja to clean you up?' He asked.

You nodded as he led you away. You truly did not deserve your mate.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Fifty-two years later...

When Amarantha had trapped the high lords of Prythian under the mountain, it hadn't be a conscious choice to follow your half-brother down. How Amarantha had allowed it, you weren't sure, but perhaps she wanted to use you just like her brother, or she thought it would bring more pain for him to see you suffer under there too.

You and Rhysand had barley spoke the last two years.

It had took you almost two months to heal fully enough to leave your room, another few months to face your family again. But even then, everyone knew something had changed in you. You didn't laugh as loud or smile as wide.

Rhysand was careful to ever let you out on a mission. Mor tried to take you out every night. Cassian spent all day every day with you and Azriel- he'd healed you better than any nurse.

Still, you had not told him he was your mate.

Still, you thought he wouldn't want it.

Still, you cared for your brother enough to not want him to go alone.

But being under the mountain, you could avoid your mate. At a painful price.

Until her. Rhys's mate. He hadn't shut up about her since he first met her, much to your dismay as you had to sit around and listen- having absolutely nothing better to do. And it only got worse when she turned up under the mountain. She was declaring her love for Tamlin- again, annoying your brother, and throwing Lucien into danger- which rather angered you. You had nothing against the ginger.

Rhysand had once sent you to find the girl to summon her as part of a bargain he'd made. He didn't want to go, he didn't want to look too forceful. You'd been lucky enough to find the two tangled up in each other against a cold wall, clothes ripped and hips moving together.

'Well, well well,' you'd intterupted.

Tamlin all but growled at you, but feyre was looking over you- evidently confused. She had no idea who you were. You, in your skimpy outfit that Amarantha kept you in (they all dipped low at your back, showing off your scars) and your eyes that were like a night sky.

'Amarantha's looking for her pet and Rhysand is looking for his. Honestly, i'd be a bit more worried if I were you. You know, considering Lucien still has an eye to lose.'

The two parted with your words as you sent Tamlin back to his master, the high lord glaring at you as you went. While Feyre tried to fix herself.

'Rhysand is over there, better not keep him waiting.' That was the first time you met her, having no idea how much trouble she'd be worth. The family that she'd become.

But Rhysand made sure you knew it all. From when the bond snapped in him and he'd stumbled. He ranted and ranted as they climbed out.

If only you were so talkative about Azriel. If only you could talk about him with your brother. But you'd tried not to painfully think about him. Climbing out of the mountain. It was all you could think of.

Maybe he'd have forgotten you? it had been fifty years. He'd probably realised how happy he could be without having to take care of you.

Rhys was allowed out of the mountain, he'd felt the breeze in his hair but you hadn't in fifty long years. You stood there a moment, bathing in the warmth as everyone left, as everyone ran off for their families and courts and the war that was inevitable. Eventually, Rhys offered you his arm. 'Shall we go home?'

He winnowed you there, on the balcony of your home. In a cloud of black smoke, the two of you appeared.

He went first, slipping through the doors slowly- like it could all be taken from them any minute.

You were hesitant, taking a moment to glance at the landscape behind you. It hadn't changed, not at all. The mountains were still there, everyone was still alive. Your home. In the last years it hadn't felt like home, but how could anywhere ever feel so close in your heart.

When you could find your feat again, you managed to slip through the doors. You were suddenly aware of how little clothing you were wearing, just enough to cover your chest and run down your legs. A chill settled down your back, your scars would be on show. What a way to great them all after fifty years.

Mor had her arms around Rhys's shoulders, crying into his shoulder.

Behind them you caught Amren, with something like tears in her eyes. You were just about to tease her before a body barrelled into yours in a blur of red syphons and your feet were lifted from the ground.

'Cassian.'

His arms tightened around you. You shoulder started to dampen with tears, his tears. The last time you'd seen him cry around you was when he'd seen a dog with only three legs. 'I'm keeping you on a leash from now on, stupid idiot.'

Your arms wrap around his shoulders, a smile gracing your lips. 'Is that a promise?'

He held you longer, tighter, not daring to let you go but at least settling you on the ground. He sighed against your head, controlling himself. 'He's missed you, you know,' he said. He was the only one you'd told, about your mate. 'Now that you're back, tell him. He deserves to know.'

Cassian slowly pulled away, holding you at arms length and smiling at you. He kissed your cheeks and then your forehead before parting to Rhysand.

Mor approached you next, slapping you in the arm.

'Ow!'

'Why would you follow him?' she snapped.

You blinked at her before she took you by the arm she'd slapped and embraced you, like a sister would. You dared not looking over her shoulder to find the one who hadn't come to you. Maybe Cass had got it wrong...

Mor pulled away, wiping at her eyes.

Azriel was as beautiful as the day you left him. His hair was the same length, he was the same height. He was just as you left him. It was hard to tell fifty years had passed on him.

And inside of you, tugging in your soul and heart you felt the familiar string of gold throbbing. But you still didn't feel that tug. You'd hoped it would have faded from you after half a year separated. Or at least have snapped for him. But no such relief.

He approached you, slowly. As if he was scared of scaring you away. But you just stood there.

His arms were delicate and soft around you as he brought you into his chest. He still smelled the same, cedar wood and shadows. Shadows that wrapped around you, shielding you from the rest of the room. They caressed you, head to two.

You held onto each other for what could have been another fifty years, but this time, it wasn't so painful.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Although nobody wanted to part after yours and Rhysand's return, you were exhausted. A trip to Rita's could wait another night or two. The only thing you wanted to do was hide in your room.

Strangely, your room looked lived in. As if somebody had moved in since you'd left. A moment of anger replaced grief. Had they brought someone else and given them your room? but then you smelt it, Az.

Lying in bed that night, exhausted, you couldn't find sleep. You closed your eyes and pictured Amarantha. You'd never been afraid of her, you weren't afraid of anything. But you re-played the horrors. Watching servants beat Feyre, watching Amarantha use your brother and on the occasion, even you. How she flaunted. How the most powerful lords were weak.

Under your door, shadows seeped in, rushing across the room to you. You smiled, watching your hand disappear in their darkness.

'Azriel?' you called.

There was shifting on the other side of the door before he slipped in, clicking it shut behind him.

You sat up in bed, shadows moving with you. 'Couldn't sleep?'

He wondered in, looking around your room. 'Sleeping's been... hard.'

You rolled over, opening the blanket and nodding your head. You couldn't think about the bond, not yet. Not while he looked so.... ruined. Beautiful- the most beautiful person in the world, but sad. As he climbed in next to you, you could see the dark circles under his eyes, his shoulders slumped and his wings too.

His eyes scanned over you. You were in a thin and silk night dress that only brushed your knees, but the way he looked at you, mother you could've been naked. 'Fifty years,' his voice sounded barley controlled. 'Fifty years. You followed your brother down for fifty years? Why would you do that?'

You gulp. 'I would've done it for any of you. Except maybe Amren, she'd probably enjoy the peace for fifty years.'

You go to brush your hair back but Azriel seizes your wrist. He was angry. That's why his voice was rough and his chest rising and falling with barley controlled emotions. Could he feel it? your nerves, your lying?

'You left. You should've stayed, y/n, you know Rhysand didn't want you under there with him,' he said. 'For fifty years I haven't been able to sleep through a night thinking about the pain you must have been going through. After I swore to keep you safe, after I promised to catch you every time!'

'You couldn't have stopped me. You didn't promise, Az.'

His grip grew tighter. 'It went without saying.'

You looked around his eyes, seeing the pain and grief there also. Slowly, you brought your other hand up. He flinched as you took his cheek but eventually settled as your thumb ran over his cheekbone. 'I won't leave again, ok? I promise.'

He gulped, letting go of your wrist and looking down. 'I slept here,' he mumbled, but just loud enough to hear you. 'I couldn't sleep in my room. This was the only place I could rest.'

Your heart stuttered. Your hand dropped from his cheek. This man was your mate. Your mate. Your only love, whether or not the cauldron deemed it.

Azriel took your hesitation. 'I-i'm sorry, you probably didn't want to hear that. I've probably ruined your one place of peace-'

'Stay,' you said, before you could think of what you were asking. 'Sleeping wasn't exactly easy under the mountain either. I just trust I won't have to put a wall of cushions between us.' as if you wanted that. As if you haven't thought about his calloused hands all over you.

Azriel smiled and stayed the night.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The third time he almost lost you, broke him...

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

[xxsabitoxx]

Where JJK Men Are Sensitive

Satoru, Suguru, Nanami, Toji, Sukuna, Yuta, Yuji, Megumi

Warnings: all characters are 18+, this is a smut headcanon post with various levels of lewd-content lol, proceed with caution... or not, I don't judge. I mean I'm the one who wrote it so...

A/N: tried a different style than how I did this with the Hashira lol. Thank you all for blowing up my "How JJK Men Eat Pussy 2.0" post! I was and still am absolutely floored with how quickly y'all blew it up!

Satoru Gojo

Satoru doesn’t tell you where he is sensitive because he wants you to figure it out through “exploration”. Given the fact that he is the Satoru Gojo, you jump on the offer to spend hours learning every inch of his body. You make a whole day out of it really, and it goes without saying that your endeavor was very, very successful. Sensitive and ticklish run a very thin line for Satoru and it is a line that is very easily blurred. Your first discovery was that he has a very sensitive neck. Something as small as your hands cupping the back of it was enough to have Satoru shivering in your embrace, whining a little into the kiss. You learned very quickly that one of his greatest weaknesses is your lips on his pulse, leaving faint bruises where you sucked. As your exploration continued, you found that Satoru was very reactive when you touched his chest. More specifically, you hadn’t expected him to moan the way he did when your tongue ran across his nipple by mistake. The noise that escaped him, paired with the visible twitch of his dick was enough for you to take the other between your thumb and pointer finger and pinch. The third discovery was that Satoru has particularly sensitive balls. Yep, that’s right, his fucking balls. You had given him head before, but you had never dared to touch him there since you weren’t sure how he would react. Since this was a “free-for-all” as Satoru put it, you gingerly cupped him and watched the way his jaw clenched. Your eyes were glued to his face as you massaged them, alternating your pressure to see how far you could take it before pleasure pushed the line and turned into pain. Turns out, they are sensitive but durable and well… he doesn’t mind if you’re a bit rough with him from time to time (all the time). 

Suguru Geto

Suguru refuses to let you figure out where he is sensitive until you catch him off guard one night and bind his wrists. Of course he can easily get out of them but he’s interested in indulging you because you look too damn cute when you think you’ve won. You’re pretty upfront with him about what you intend to do, which only makes him a little antsy as your fingers nimbly undo the rest of his clothing while you remain in nothing but his t-shirt. Suguru isn’t quite used to the roles being reversed but he’ll give it a try for you. The first sensitive point on his body that you discover is his ears, and it’s not because of his gauges. You actually avoid his earlobes all together, instead catching him by surprise as you sink your teeth into the shell of his ear. This earns a reaction neither of you expected, a low groan that vibrates his chest as you alternate the pressure of your nibbling before pulling away. Suguru’s cheeks are red now as you continue to explore various points on him, his dick painfully hard and sitting proudly against his abdomen as you work. The next spot is actually his sides, your fingernails scraping them has his body shivering in response. It seems some of Suguru’s sensitivity resides in the most random places, because you didn’t quite envision yourself laughing as you grazed your teeth down his side before biting softly and watching his back arch. By the time you reach his waist, Suguru is red in the face and panting, precum oozing steadily out of his tip and resting on his abdomen. He’s looking at you with blown out pupils, quietly begging you to touch him where it really “matters”, to which you shake your head. Suguru’s thighs are his other weakness, which you kind of figured since he always gets very fidgety when you sit on his lap or grind on it.

Kento Nanami

Nanami is a tough man to break down, but over the years you have located a few of his weak points. One of Nanami’s major weaknesses is his jaw/neck, more specifically when you’re kissing and sucking and biting there. There is something about the sensual drag of your teeth on his skin that has his composure dissolving. You know this of course, so you use it to get your way when Nanami is being a little too stubborn for his own good. This neck sensitivity goes a little further though, something as simple as adjusting his tie or fixing his collar will have Nanami shivering from your touch. You found another weak spot by mistake, turns out Nanami is rather ticklish when it comes to his Stomach. You had been riding him, initially placing your hands behind you on his legs to hold yourself as your hips rose and fell. But your back was getting sore and the angle was starting to get tiring, so you slowed and pushed yourself forward rather than leaning back. The moment your hands made contact with Nanami’s abs, he was gritting his teeth and throwing his head back. You initially thought you had hurt him by pressing down on him, but that worried thought disappeared the moment he gasped out for you to “not move” when you started to pull your hands away. You started paying a little more attention to his stomach shortly after that, just because you enjoyed the way he squirmed and fell apart. Unknown to you still is the fact that Nanami’s nipples are very sensitive. He keeps it hidden because he is utterly mortified by how turned on he gets from it. Even if your hand ghosts over them, even if he’s still fully dressed, the feeling has his face turning a deep shade of red. He knows if you figure this out, you’ll go out of your way to touch him there regardless of where you both are, and he just knows he won’t be able to stop the heat from flooding his face. 

Toji Fushiguro

Toji is pretty damn adamant that he has no “weak spots”. That’s up until your hand rests on the back of his slutty ass, tiny waist and he’s crumbling at the feeling. Something about your fingers on his skin has Toji losing his train of thought, he’ll stop mid-sentence if he feels your hands on his waist. Maybe it’s because of how intimate that one touch is, especially when you’re the one grabbing his waist and he’s not the one grabbing yours. Shiu likes to give Toji a funny look if you do this while in his presence, it’s typically one Toji ignores. To continue this “men with sensitive nipples” agenda I got going on, Toji will be putty in your hands the moment your lips wrap around one of his nipples. He’s utterly shameless when you start sucking and biting his chest, moaning and groaning while his hips buck into the air. You are mindful of how you straddle him solely because you don’t want to give him any sort of relief when you toy with him, hence his restless hips meeting empty air rather than your own. Toji’s rather embarrassed by how sensitive the head of his dick is, especially when you’re giving him head. Even the smallest of touches, the quickest tug, even the gentlest lick, will have his jaw going slack. You’re just as cruel as he is sometimes, deciding to focus all of your attention on the tip of his cock just to watch him struggle to clench his slack-jaw to try and hide his noises. You’ll have him coming in no time at all, making sure to be relentless in your teasing after the fact because he can be just as relentless with you when roles are reversed. A bonus spot is his balls, because why the fuck wouldn’t they be. He’s desperate to keep that one a secret but you are too damn observant to get anything by.

Sukuna Ryomen

Sukuna, sensitive? Nah, no fucking way. He is the only man on this list that can confidently say he doesn’t have a single point on his body that will have him crumbling if you touch it. The thing with Sukuna is that he will not let you have enough freedom to roam his body. You are his, but he is not yours. That’s not to say he’ll turn you down if you start sucking and kissing his jaw and neck, the gentle scrape of your teeth certainly do something to ease the tension in his shoulders. But that definitely doesn’t mean those spots are sensitive, nope, not even a little. Sukuna’s hips definitely don’t falter when you grind against his pubic bone while he has you stuffed to the brim with his cock. Oh and he absolutely can’t stand it when your nails rake his shoulders, specifically between his shoulder blades. The king of curses himself has NO weak points, I mean really he doesn’t. There is nothing you can do to get the curse to submit to you, and that’s just the facts. Sukuna definitely doesn’t groan when you do any of these things, he definitely doesn’t utter your name in a deep, warning rumble as you try and fuck with him. And he most definitely does not enjoy when you litter his skin with your own bite marks… just warning ya~

Yuta Okkotsu

Where isn’t this man sensitive? Yuta is pretty embarrassed about how easily he can fall apart under your touch, especially when you are holding his hips while you kiss him. Something about the way your fingers dig into his skin, as if trying to keep him close while he has his teeth sinking into your bottom lip. Like he’ll disappear if you let him go, fuck it just get’s him going. Depending on where you are, Yuta will likely have you pinned to the wall the moment he feels your hands desperately clawing at his hips. You found out pretty quickly that Yuta’s hip sensitivity spreads down to his thighs. The moment your back hits the wall, Yuta is shamelessly shoving his leg between your thighs, spreading them for him as his knee hits the wall and his thigh is slotted snuggle against your heat. Yuta’s noises are relentless as your hips grind down on his thigh, the muscles tensing under your movements and only adding to the shared pleasure of it. You realize pretty fast that Yuta enjoys marking you, but that he also enjoys being marked. That goes hand in hand with his numerous sensitive spots. One time you actually bit his shoulder and he swore he could have come, completely untouched, right then and there. You’ll have his eyes nearly crossing if you rake your nails along his back, the stimulation your sex offers him paired with the ticklish/scratchy stimulation of your nails on his skin is enough to have him sobbing. Yuta will absolutely lose his mind if you bite his neck too, he gets off to being covered in your love bites. That being said, Yuta’s dick is just as sensitive, if not more sensitive than the rest of his body. When you first started having sex, you would tease him by saying you need to fuck more often so he can build his tolerance. Not that you mind having multiple short rounds, especially since he makes sure you cum Every. Single. Time. 

Yuji Itadori

Bless this man, he’s so touch starved that it’s impossible for him to not get the chills whenever you touch him. Yuji’s beyond sensitive, especially when it comes to your touch. Some of his most sensitive spots are actually pretty random and sometimes very specific. For example, just below his ear, that spot on your head where your jaw ends and your ear lobe nearly meet. You kissed him there once, a kiss placed among many, but that was the one spot that had him breathing out, begging you to do it again. So you did, kissing intently and sucking a bruise there until Yuji’s fingers were nearly bruising your waist. You learned his body pretty fast, finding that his chest was pretty sensitive as well, earning you pretty noises every time you so much as ran a finger down his sternum. He doesn’t particularly enjoy his nipples being toyed with roughly, that’s one area that’s more painful-sensitive rather than pleasurable-sensitive. But he doesn’t mind if you kiss them or lick them gently. He’s all for massages, especially when you have him on his stomach, your hands kneading the muscular flesh of his back until he’s shamelessly groaning as you work out the tense knots. But nothing could have prepared him for the pleasure your hands brought him when you began massaging the small of his back. It was enough to turn his groans into moans, goosebumps erupting over his flesh as he shivered uncontrollably. You listened to him, following the instructions he cried out for you to not stop, noticing the way he was grinding his hips into the mattress below you. The sight had been so lewd that you couldn’t make yourself stop even if you tried, dying to see how it all played out, dying to see if he’d make himself cum. Yuji adores it when you run your hands all over him, the feathery light, ticklish touches are enough to make his lips buck, cock twitching violently as he waits for you to do more to him. 

Megumi Fushiguro

Oh Megumi…Megumi Megumi Megumi. He takes after his fathers, not willing to admit he has any weak spots but also willing to let you try and find them. Contradictory but either way, you’re eager to know how to make the typically stoic man crumble. It came as a shock when you figured out one of his sensitive points within thirty seconds of climbing into his lap. Megumi’s thighs are very sensitive, even from something as simple as your weight settling on them. It also helps that the heat from your covered sex can be felt through the material of his clothes, your closeness only making it more apparent. You’ll use this information against him later on, especially on nights where you just want to get him worked up. Turns out Megumi’s neck is pretty ticklish, the mix of your soft lips and hair as well as your teeth gently grazing him is intoxicating. Megumi finds himself struggling to stifle his noises as you mark his neck up with as many love bites and bruises as you can before his self restraint runs thin and he gives up on this whole “locate the weak spots” endeavor. Did I mention he takes after his fathers, cause he does. Megumi is mortified by this fact, but his balls are pretty damn sensitive. After an hour of making out and letting you feel him up, you finally reward him for his patience and give him head. He’d rather your sex but he’s too damn worked up to care at the moment, and your mouth is fucking perfect anyways. So, given that he’s let you have more leeway in the last hour than he has during any other of your sexual encounters, you take the liberty of cupping his sac as you wrap your lips around his tip. You nearly choked when he almost immediately spilled into your mouth, the hour of teasing had worked him up more than either of you anticipated and he had no strength left to mentally prepare for you doing something as bold as that. 

[slvttyplum]

satoru loved to watch himself slide in and out of you and how your pussy reacted whenever he slid deep inside of you, but one thing he didn’t love was when you interrupted that and closed your legs completely when the pleasure started to become too much, so he had to do something about it. 

he got a special leg spreader made just for you, with your name engraved on it and a little design on it. shock spread on your face when he was setting it up. of course, satoru could’ve just put his hands on your thighs to keep them spread, but satoru liked to do other things, plus he was just extra in general, an excuse to try something different, like getting a pair of handcuffs to match. 

he loved how flexible you were because, with the bar, he could put you in any position he wanted to, and your legs would still be spread wide open for him. the first time he brought it up to you and showed up with a huge box and a smile on his face, you were disgusted and offended. he even thought about getting it for you, but there was no reason not to try. 

“not too tight, satoru." pouting as he straps one of your ankles in and pulls the strap so it doesn’t slip off, the smile on his face never leaving. 

“awe, someone’s mad; they have to be restrained to get fucked.” while tightening up the other strap, both your wrists and ankles were tied up as he touched your core, jolting a little as you felt his fingers touch all over you. 

satoru knew that once he got this, he wouldn’t be able to fuck you without it or have hopes of being able to build up your sexual tolerance, but neither happened. this was the best purchase he’s made in years; nothing will ever compare to seeing your wetness and his cum covered over your core. 

you couldn’t close your legs or shift around; you were laid out with your legs spread just for him, just like he wanted it. the only things were your moaning and whimpering when he fucked you deep, and your legs started to ache the more he fucked you. 

he didn’t just stop at laying you on your back; he also turned you around, putting your hands behind your back and putting the cuffs back on. grabbing the middle of them and fucking you, you hated to admit it, but god did it feel good to feel him deep inside you and have the pleasure explode all over. your mouth hanging open as he pushed into you repeatedly, with no mercy or having to stop every ten seconds because of you squirming around. 

the pleasure was so fucking good that the pain you got from your legs saying in the air didn’t even stay. you were on cloud nine with the pleasure you were receiving. satoru even took it a step further and would eat you out instead; this was all that he wanted—for you to stay still while he made you feel good instead of your squirming. 

he loved that you were sensitive, but he also liked that your thighs closed every time he was close and every time you were on the verge of your orgasm. this was for the both of you, so y’all could cum together, plus you looked sexy, sweaty, and restrained. 

“look at you, baby; you’re doing so well for me." all you needed was that extra support besides satoru's hands pushing your thighs, something more stable to keep you in check, and that's exactly what the bar did; it helped keep you in check. any slight movement will have your ankles tugging, which is uncomfortable. 

satoru did this all for you, knowing that you wanted the pleasure he was giving you and wanted to be fucked for hours on end. you just needed help, and satoru was going to go through the ends of the earth to find the help you needed, and this bar and handcuffs were exactly what you needed. your legs stuck in the ear as he pushed against you back to back, and the tip of his dick touched deep inside of you almost so far that the air sliding through your nostrils wasn't enough to keep you stable.

even though the pleasure that was pulsing through your toes and tingling was too much for you to handle, you still found yourself wanting more—more of the dick he was putting into your stomach, and satoru was guaranteed to give it to you. after a couple of times of having the var on you, you weren't opposed to keeping it in the bedroom; it helped the both of you out greatly, and that turned satoru on so fucking much, especially in the aftermath. 

covered in his sweat and cum by the end of the night, and the sight made satoru's eyes grow in little hearts. he wanted to do it more, but surprisingly, you let him do it. that's one of the great things about the bar: it lets you hold up the tolerance of the pleasure, forcing you to want more even if you can't take it.

"look at thattt." cooing at you as he slides his finger down your wet slit and slowly slides a finger in, your walls immediately closing around his finger. you were still so sensitive, yet you were begging satoru to keep going, to fuck you until your vision was blurry and your body was giving out. you didn't even care if the restraints were tight; you just needed him inside of you.

just know that satoru has been boasting about this for weeks.

[ellecdc]

Poly!Jegulus x Slytherin reader idea

So reader is one of the Slytherin chasers and she gets hurt on one of the Slytherin vs Gryffindor matches (maybe just a sprained wrist, or a concussion, whatever you prefer is good!) and imagine just the two captains losing their cool, its either funny or very chaotic or both, really just craving hurt and comfort

it's so funny because keke and I were talking about this dynamic not too long ago. I fiddled around with the positions etc, hope you don't mind! so glad to have you back mimi 🫶

poly!jegulus x fem!reader who plays keeper for the Slytherin team

It was very clear that Regulus was stressed. You knew he didn’t like having to call you up to play.

“Quidditch players play dirty, amour. Have you seen Barty out there?” he had urged you, earning him a roll of your eyes.

“Good thing I’m not playing against Barty then, huh?”

“Yeah, but you’re playing against the players that are playing against Barty; they’re going to go for blood.”

But this was your job as a reserve player. The Slytherin keeper had a case of mumblemumps and was currently on bedrest, meaning it was your turn to step onto the field.

Regulus had ‘double checked’ your equipment for the sixth time before you swatted him away.

“I’m okay, Reg. I’ve played before, yeah?”

Regulus sighed and looked into your eyes imploringly. “Do not take any unnecessary risks, okay? Especially against those animals.” He muttered.

You snorted a laugh. “You do realise we’re playing our boyfriend, yeah? The captain of those ‘animals’?”

Regulus levelled you with a glare. “Exactly.”

You opted to ignore Regulus’ worried ramblings in French and hyped yourself up for the game. Regulus had been hoping that the keeper would pull through in time for the game and was only willing to call you up a mere twenty minutes ago, meaning you hadn’t been mentally prepared for this.

Perhaps more importantly, neither had James

“WHAT IN THE BUGGERING FUCK IS SHE DOING OUT HERE!?” You heard James shout as he marched over to the Slytherin’s on the pitch, earning him a warning from Madame Hooch.

“Crawley is still in the infirmary.” You explained simply as James made it to you and began fussing with your equipment and uniform in much the same way Regulus had already.

“So what? He’s got swollen glands and a case of the mumbles, he can play sodding quidditch.” He muttered, tightening your elbow pads to almost painful lengths.

“Okay, James, enough.” You began shoving at him, but Regulus came to your defence.

“I’ve already done all that, James.” He sighed, sounding equally as disturbed about this as James did.

“I don’t like it. Maybe we should forfeit?” James mused aloud, earning him a horrified outcry from Marlene and Sirius.

“Like hell we’re forfeiting just because your girlfriend is playing, Prongs!” Sirius shouted at the same time as Marlene cried “I know she’s got a pretty face, but this is quidditch, Potter!”

“You never get this worked up over playing against Black, Potter.” Barty goaded from behind you, earning him a dark glare from Regulus.

“That’s because he’s busy looking for the snitch and well out of the action, Junior.” James sneered back before returning his eyes back to you. “Oh, my poor girl.”

You groaned and stepped away from the boys at that. “This is ridiculous, let’s sodding play!”

With an unnecessary amount of reluctance on his part, James stalked back off towards his team as everyone got into formation for the whistle.

The game was as fast-paced and intense as any game was against Slytherin and Gryffindor; the intense and deep-rooted rivalry causing the air to crackle with electricity.

As was predicted by anyone and everyone who knew Barty Crouch Junior, he was one lunatic of a beater, lobbing the bludgers at the opposing players with an unnecessary amount of force. The chasers on the other team seemed to be taking that in stride for the most part, save McLaggen who appeared to take each hit personally.

Any anxiety you had prior to the game melted away with the ease and familiarity of your broom beneath you and the rhythm of swatting quaffles away from your goal posts. Though James talked a big game of you being in “the thick of it”, keepers were the only players allowed within the vicinity of the goal posts, contributing to a certain amount of protection for those in your position.

Unfortunately, the seventh time McLaggen was hit by one of Barty’s bludgers seemed to be the undoing of this so-far fair-played game.

In a manner that seemed to be fueled by pure rage, McLaggen managed to bypass Barty and the other Slytherin beater, and beelined it for you. You would have been impressed by his skills and quick manoeuvres on his broom but you realised too late that he had nearly made it all the way over to you.

“Oi! Stay out of my zone!” You called at him, alerting the chaser’s presence to Barty.

With little more than a twist of his broom, Barty was barrelling his way towards you and aiming a bludger for McLaggen. You were slowly backing up towards your posts in an attempt to stay in position to block McLaggen’s quaffle whilst also trying to stay out of the way of his broom when he suddenly dropped altitude as soon as Barty’s bludger left his hand.

You looked down as he smiled up at you, realising too late what that meant for you.

Suddenly, your vision went black as the bludger made impact with the crown of your head, and you tasted iron as the wind ripped violently through your hair.

You could hear shouting and swearing, suddenly aware that you no longer had your broom under you; you were freefalling.

Still without sight, you had only seconds to brace yourself before you made impact with the hard ground below you.

Your lungs were being squeezed by a large fist within your chest and your ears were ringing something fierce.

There was warmth; warmth on your head, by your ear, trailing down your neck. It felt good against the wind that had accosted you moments earlier.

There was pressure at your collar bone, and deep within your chest.

The pressure became too much.

You took a gaping breath and with that, the ringing in your ears made way for the chaos surrounding you to permeate your consciousness.

“Okay, okay. Okay, good; good job amour, keep breathing. You’re okay, okay? Okay, you’re okay.” You heard Regulus chant, his voice taut with emotions. “Breathe amour, breathe.”

You took a few more gasping breaths and tore your eyes open, realising then that the lack of sight wasn’t due to inability, but rather your body’s unwillingness.

“Hi, hi amour. You’re okay.” Regulus said breathlessly, his eyes scanning between the two of yours before flitting up to something above you.

Your hearing was still fuzzy but you could hear something happening out of your line of sight.

“Yelling.” You choked out, coughing through the pain of having had the wind knocked out of your mere moments ago.

“WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU THINKING, MCLAGGEN? THE KEEPER ZONES ARE OFF FUCKING LIMITS.”

“It’s okay, amour. Don’t worry about that, just keep breathing for me, okay?” Regulus urged, placing a gentle hand on the juncture of your neck and shoulder causing you to wince in pain.

“Mr. Potter, you need to calm down.” Madame Hooch could be heard from behind you.

“I’ll do no such thing! He fucking orchestrated that! YOU LET YOUR BEATERS TAKE CARE OF OTHER BOTHERSOME BEATERS! YOU’VE BEEN PLAYING QUIDDITCH FOR SODDING YEARS, YOU KNOW WHAT JUNIOR IS LIKE.”

“Oi! Get your fucking hands off of me!”

“You’re off the team. You’re DONE. Get the fuck out of my sight.”

You heard what sounded like McLaggen storm off towards the locker rooms as Madame Hooch let out a sigh.

“The game is a draw, Slytherin is forced to forfeit with no keeper. Everyone off the pitch.” She droned in monotone.

“Jamie.” You whimpered, your sinuses suddenly swelling painfully.

“Hey! Hey babylove, I’m here.” He said quickly, quietly, gently; his voice a dramatic change from the way he’d been speaking to his team moments ago.

“I’m okay.” You stated, though it sounded more like a question with the way your voice tilted upwards at the end.

“Of course you are, you’re such a strong girl.” He agreed readily, offering you a sad smile. You chuckled self-deprecatingly and lifted your hand to wipe your tears as they trailed into your hairline, grimacing when your hand came back bloody.

“Just a bump, yeah?” James said lightly, causing Regulus to sniffle.

“I think she hurt her collarbone too.” He whispered as if speaking any louder would cause his voice to break and the tears to fall.

“Okay, alright.” James said as Madame Pomfrey arrived with a gurney. “Head injury and possibly injured collarbone.” He relayed to the matron. 

“Thank you, Mr. Potter. Mr. Black, I’ll take over now; please step aside.”

But Regulus didn’t seem able to let go.

“Mr. Black.”

“Come on, Reggie. We’ll follow her up, yeah?” James tried gently, pulling at Regulus’ shoulder so that the matron could levitate you onto the gurney. 

“We’re right behind you, okay sweetheart?” James called after you as he held Regulus to his side, and you let unconsciousness pull at you with the knowledge that they were following you back to the castle. 

“I’m going to fucking kill him, Pads. I’m going to skin him alive and put his head on a spike on the Gryffindor stadium.” 

You heard Sirius chuckle at the sound of James’ dramatics, though he never bothered to argue with his mate. 

“How is it that you’re such a lover boy and my brother is such a gremlin; but anything happens to her and the two of you trade personalities?” Sirius taunted. You heard a shuffle, a grunt, and then an ‘oi!’ before the sound of Remus’ voice permeated the infirmary.

“Alright, alright. Pads, get off your brother.”

“And then, and then! I’m going to mail his ear to his mother with a note saying “you raised a fucking wanker”.” James continued as if no one had said a word.

“Y/N?” You heard Remus ask, causing the shuffling of your boyfriend and his brother, and the musings of your other boyfriend to come to a halt as they waited with bated breath for you to open your eyes.

“There she is.” James sighed in relief as his eyes met yours, his smile only at a fraction of its usual wattage, though it was still enough to brighten up the grim infirmary.

“Hi.” You croaked, wincing as your stretch was impeded by a sling on your arm.

“No, don’t.” Regulus whispered, brushing your elbow with a touch that was barely there. “Madame Pomfrey reset your collarbone, you’ll be in the sling for a few weeks.” He explained.

“Gives us all the more of an excuse to fuss over you, yeah?” James offered, clearly trying to keep spirits up.

Though you knew James was likely just as worked up about your injury as Regulus currently was (if not more, if his threats of murder and mutilation were anything to go off of), he was making an effort to be strong for both of your sake’s.

“Reggie, I’m okay.” You pressed, taking Regulus’ hand in yours that wasn’t currently pressed to your side. 

“I know.” He whispered back.

“So are you.” 

Regulus’ face crumpled at that and he slowly lowered his head to rest on your abdomen.

“Glad to see you up and at’em, Y/N.” Rem smiled at you as Sirius shot you a wink before patting Regulus on the shoulder and leaving the three of you some privacy. 

“Reggie, babe.” James murmured, moving to stand behind Regulus and rub at his shoulders soothingly. “You’re going to get tears and snot all over our poor girl’s jumper.”

“Sod off.” Regulus mumbled into your stomach, causing you and James to chuckle. 

Regulus’ head popped up at that, and he looked at you shyly from red rimmed eyes behind black curls falling over his forehead. 

“You promise me you’re okay?” He whispered, rubbing his thumb back-and-forth over your knuckles.

You nodded and offered him a small smile. 

Regulus sighed and sat up, rubbing at his face. “Good.” He said simply as he stood.

“I’ve got a Gryffindor to kill.”

He placed a gentle kiss to your temple and stalked out of the infirmary before your horrified glance moved to James who stood passively at the end of your bed.

“James!?” You asked, gesturing with your good arm towards the entrance.

James shook his head and waved you off. “Don’t worry; Pad’s and Moony are on watch out there. We knew once you woke up he’d be on a warpath.” 

You let out a surprised laugh as James casually took Regulus’ vacated seat beside you and picked up your good hand.

“You sure you’re okay?”

“Just sore.” You offered with a nod. 

“Well, I don’t like that you got hurt, but I do like getting to take care of you.” He said salaciously, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand. 

You shared a soft smile with James before you heard screeching. 

“I need a healer!”

James brows furrowed as he turned to see 1) McLaggen holding a jumper to his face leaving a trail of blood droplets behind him and 2) Regulus, Sirius, and Remus walking back towards your bed far too nonchalantly for your liking. 

“You were supposed to stop him!” James shouted at Sirius as he gestured to Regulus.

Sirius smirked. “Oh, we did.”

James let out a surprised scoff. “Then how’d he manage to maim McLaggen?”

“I didn’t have to.” Regulus replied simply, sitting on the end of your bed and pulling your feet into his lap as he massaged them through the blankets. “Barty got to him first.”

[babyleostuff]

─ PINK RIBBONS

𝜗𝜚 THEME: fluff, domesticity, you being jeonghan's whole world (mention of the military) 𝜗𝜚 PAIRING: idol!jeonghan x fem!reader 𝜗𝜚 WORD COUNT: 792

natalia's note: idc if this is too dramatic, i don't want jeonghan to go

⦗💌 ⦘your favourite past time? playing with your boyfriend's hair, duh. sadly, it's the last time you get to do it for the next two years.

“here,” jeonghan drops a bunch of… somethings in your lap and sits down on the fluffy rug you bought last month, his back facing you. 

your boyfriend’s randomness is nothing new; even before you began dating, you quickly found out that yoon jeonghan was an unpredictable man. but no matter how much time has passed since you agreed to be his girlfriend, you are still taken aback each and every time he decides to do something out of the blue in his jeonghan fashion. 

you quickly grew to love his randomness, though. it’s like being surprised in the best ways possible.

“what,” you pick up a packet of colourful hair ties and hair pins, “what do you want me to do with those?”.  

jeonghan turns around and looks up to meet your eyes, his own holding nothing but fondness and warmth. “my hair,” he says and shakes his head of messy brown hair he died a couple of days ago. “we haven’t done this in a while, so i thought it’d be nice.” 

your stomach churned. how many times have you sat like this - you on the edge of the sofa and jeonghan in front of you, resting comfortably against a cushion you placed so as not to strain his back. a drama or a cooking show would be playing quietly in the background, neither of you watching it, too busy with basking in the domesticity. 

looking back, it was a no-brainer that you got addicted to your boyfriend’s hair so quickly. playing with it became a little habit of yours - before bed, in the morning, at a game night with the boys, during parties - whenever jeonghan was in your arm’s reach, you’d play with his hair, no matter if they were short or long (though you always mourned his long hair whenever he cut them). it always managed to calm you down and ground you when life got a bit too much. 

you’ve never experienced deja vu before, but if this was how it felt then you’d rather be hit with a sledge hammer. it’d hurt less. 

and now… despite that you could feel your heart breaking, you couldn’t tell him no. it’s probably the last time you’ll be able to do this before the enlistment anyway, so maybe… maybe it’ll be a nice way to celebrate his last days at home? 

“it’s hair. it’s just hair,” your mind seems to scream into the void as you grab a couple of the purple-ish hair bands and slide them on your wrist. but your heart is even louder and it feels like you’re being ripped apart. 

were you being dramatic? definitely. did you care? not at all. your whole life would change in the next day or so and despite preparing for this for such a long time now, it didn’t make it any less painful. with jeonghan leaving you’d be losing a part of yourself.

“hey,” he raises his hand and grabs your chin, “get that scowl off your face.”

“i know,” you sigh. “it’s just that-,”.

“i don’t want to hear any of that. we’re having fun tonight, honey,” jeonghan says and runs his thumb over your cheek. affection and pure love, which are always there whenever he looks at you (coups makes sure to point that out on every possible occasion), seemed to slow your racing heartbeat, because the longer you stared into his brown, gentle eyes the more your mind seemed to quiet down. oh, how you are going to miss that lovesick stare. “no more sad faces, yeah?” 

you swallow and nod, your heart heavy from all the emotions. the pink ribbons and blue pins look like the opposite of what you are feeling, but… you have to be strong. if not for yourself, then for jeonghan. 

“any specific requests?” you ask and comb your fingers gently through his silky hair.

“nope. whatever you do,” he says and turns his back to you, “it’ll look perfect.” you couldn't see jeonghan’s face, but you could hear the smile in his voice. 

placing a peck on your exposed leg, he makes himself comfortable against the cushions and lets out his grandpa-esque sigh. 

what the next days are going to bring - you aren’t sure. you don’t even want to think about it. but for now… for now, you are as content as you can be. enveloped by your love’s affection like a security blanket, his warm hands sliding up and down your calves, as if reminding you that he’s still there, it is enough for you. enough to swallow your tears and put a brave smile on your face for the man sitting in front of you. 

for now it is only you and him and all the pink ribbons.

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[pretty-little-mind33]

James Potter x slytherin!fem!reader

Summary: Playing Quidditch against your secret boyfriend is usually fun…

Genre: Fluff/hurt and comfort <3

Warnings: rivalry, chaser!captain!james, chaser!captain!reader, secret relationship (previous enemies to lovers), injuries, swearing, protective!james (my baby), short-ish

JAMES POTTER MASTERLIST

It had begun innocently.

You and James had promised not to tell anyone about your relationship for one week. Only that week turned into another, which eventually turned into four, and now it's much too awkward announcing to the entire school that you've been dating James Potter—the same boy you have publicly spent years saying you couldn't stand—for almost six months.

So, you never did, and neither did he.

However, the upside of your little arrangement was that now Quidditch is endlessly more entertaining.

"You ready, Cap?" Anne, your seeker, asks as you secure your gloves around your wrists. You nod and pull on the straps tightly. This is possibly the most important game of the season and you're determined to win.

You drown out the crowd's cheers when you mount your broom, adjust your hair, and fly up to where your lovely boyfriend is waiting for you to shake his hand.

James looks handsome, with his messy curls messier from the wind, and your heart flutters unintentionally. "Y/l/n," he says and balances on his broom as he grins.

"Potter."

He holds out his arm and looks around at his team and then at yours. "Good luck," James says and you know him well enough to hear his sincerity.

You take his hand, your breath hitching when his thumb caresses across your knuckles. It's such a quick brush you almost think you'd imagined it, but then James sends you a smile—that smile—and you know you hadn't imagined anything.

You drop his hand but return his smile. "May the best team win," your voice is smooth and you hear James chuckle as you fly away from him. You don't dare look back as you hide your smile and nod to your teammates.

The game starts normally, but as time progresses it becomes obvious this particular match is more competitive than usual. James's players become more flustered as the game continues, but you don't concern yourself with them as Slytherin is in the lead. Which, to your dismay, is more uncommon than you would like considering James's team is talented.

Annoyingly talented.

However, you should have been concerned considering when Danny Shepard hits the bludger directly at you out of pure anger, you're unprepared.

The front of your broom shatters from the force and you let out a loud scream when you jerk to the side, your broom malfunctioning as you plummet to the ground.

You can hear some of your teammates call out your name in worry but when you fall onto the grass and roll into the sidelines of a muddy ditch. Your eyes water as a piercing pain makes your head pound.

"Y/n!" James's calls and when you sit up, you see him land on the ground. He lets his broom fall without a care and sprints over to you. He kneels next to you and gently holds your head up, "Shit, shit, shit, shit," James sounds terrified. You blink. The world around him is spinning and his features are blurry.

"Help!" James screams and your heart leaps. What the hell is he doing? Everyone will know. You try to shake your head to tell him to shut up but you just wince in pain. James loops his arm around your back and concern etches his face when you cry out in pain from his movement.

You don't remember much after that. Just that some teachers and your teammates had rushed to your side to make sure you were okay. You weren't. You remember some of James's friends had to hold him back when the teachers hurried you to the Hospital Wing.

However, you wake up to him next to you. James is still in his Quidditch uniform, his head in his arms, his arm crossed beside your hips, as his chest lifts and falls lightly.

You blink, adjusting to the dim light from the lamp, and your shifting must wake James up because he looks up. Sheet lines are drawn on his cheeks and his voice is hoarse when he mutters, "Baby?"

"Hi," you whisper, forcing a small smile.

It's as if his entire face brightens and in his excitement James jumps up and wraps his arms around your shoulders. "Merlin, you're really okay! I was so worried," his voice sounds tense and when you wince a little, he moves back like he'd burned you. "Sorry, sorry," he blushes pink and slumps down onto the chair again.

"It's okay, Jamie," you smile at him and then ask, "What happened?" You look around you. It's dark outside. You must have been passed out for a few hours, at the very least.

"Shepard aimed his bludger at you out of anger," James hurries to explain, "He's off the team. Definitively. No arguments."

You smile at him a little but ask the important question, "You continued the game, did you?"

James nods solemnly, "Yeah, we did," he pauses as if debating something, "Gryffindor won," he says after a moment. Your eyebrows scrunch hearing him and you groan, cursing. James is quick to hold your hand. "But you'll beat us next time, lovie. It was such a close game."

You roll your eyes at him, turning your head to bury your face into your pillow. "You're such a twat," you whine and then look up at him through your hair, "this is why I disliked you."

James's smile falters, seemingly a little hurt. "I'm being serious! You played well. Your entire team did," he whispers, stroking his thumb over your hand.

You snort, "Oh, I know you're being serious, James. You're too kind. It's infuriating."

"Would you rather I rub my win in your face?" James asks with a raise of his brow. You sit up and glare at him. Admittedly, James has never been humble about his team winning a game but this was different.

You're his girlfriend now. His injured, and incredibly competitive, girlfriend.

"Well, nothing would have stopped you before," you say and James rolls his eyes. He leans in closer.

"Well, back then, I wouldn't have cared that one of my players hit you like that."

You send him a suspicious look.

"Okay, I would have cared, but not this much."

You smile. As much as you hate James for his undeniable chivalry and how annoyingly kind-hearted he is, if he wasn't then he wouldn't be the person you loved. And oh boy, do you love him.

"I want everyone to know about us," you say suddenly. James's eyes round like saucers. His hand finds yours and he tilts his head like a puppy, an endearing confusion gracing his features. He squeezes your hand in his.

"You must have really hit your head hard baby–"

"No," you interrupt him, your voice coming out stern, "I'm ready. I'm not ashamed. I've never been ashamed. I just didn't want anyone to know because if they did then they'd meddle, and if didn't know then you were mine. Only mine."

A smile curls James's lips. "What's changed?"

You look into his eyes. "Well, now I want everyone to know you are mine."

James raises and eyebrow and he chuckles. "So basically, you're claiming me?"

"Yeah, I guess I am."

With a smile, James nuzzles into you and then kisses your cheek, right under one of your bruises. "Good, because everyone already knows about us. When you passed out, I made too much of a scene and the game was up," he says sheepishly, "It's all anyone is talking about apparently."

You giggle as his breath tickles your skin and you hold his nape. "Fucking let them, I don't care. All that matters is that you're mine."

"I am yours," James confirms into your ear, "Wholeheartedly yours, Y/n."

[too-deviant]

mdni 🃏

thinking about luke as your mom’s friend’s son who only comes over when your parents hang out…yk the one….anyway here’s a shitty drabble

being all awkward smiles and painful small talk for the first hour of whatever family event your parents had dragged you to this time.

indulging in more than a few cocktails that your older cousins snuck to each of you from the bar.

(the dodgy bar in the dodgy events building that had been hired out for whatever birthday party/baby shower/bat mitzvah was happening. you didn’t really care all that much, anyway.)

the liquid courage fuelling the conversation, pulling up old memories you had buried and bubbling over the giggles you shared as you drank in the corner.

getting progressively tipsy, sharing secret smirks when your mom passed a comment about how “it was as if you two had never been apart!”

luke’s hand in yours — older, mature, callused; so different from how they used to feel when you were kids, although those memories were fading, being replaced with something much more carnal. something you were less likely to share over a cocktail at a family party.

sneaking away from the crowds — easy enough, everyone was drunk.

cutting through hallways, passing the drunkards who lingered outside of the chaos. they were smoking, arguing on the phone, waiting for a cab, looking for the bathroom. you?

you were being pressed against the wall of an empty stairwell, gasping quietly at luke’s mouth on yours. his hands on your waist, then your back, your arms, the sides of your neck. everywhere he’d been thinking about touching since he knew what touching meant.

and you were the same. fingers under his blazer, dipping into his waistband for a teasing second before returning to the outside world — but he noticed. how could he not? the firm pull of your body against his was response enough, his right hand coming down to hitch your leg around his hip.

your crotches burned with desire, rubbing against each other with every small movement of your bodies. aching for more whenever you paused for just a second because you thought you could hear someone passing the bottom of the stairs a few feet below you. all they would have to do is ascend the first set, and they’d spot you there. but neither of you cared.

luke inching a hand up your dress, dipping his fingers beneath your panties and huffing into your ear when your wetness coated them after one stroke. your own hand, fiddling with his belt and making sure nobody heard the clanging of the buckle as you undid it with fervour, eagerly searching for his cock once you could stick your hand in there to your wrist comfortably.

moaning in each-other’s ears. grinding on each-other’s hands. sucking in deep gulps of air whenever you got too loud, whenever the slurring speech of an uncle you’d never met faded in, and then out of shot.

luke cumming in his underwear, your hips spitting and sputtering against his palm only moments later.

cleaning yourselves up, catching your parents at the bottom of the stairs just as they passed by in search of you. sharing a look.

in the years you’d known him, you’d never exchanged socials. you didn’t need to. you just hoped he would be at the next family function.

[iamgonnagetyouback]

𝟷.𝟹𝚔 || 𝐅𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒

♡ ︎ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: Theo comes to you after a fight....again.

♡ ︎ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: Mentions of fighting (not with reader), Making out

♡ ︎ꜱʜɪᴘ: Theodore Nott x reader

The chill of the common room was barely noticeable as you paced back and forth, anxiously awaiting Theodore’s return. Word had gotten around that he’d been in a fight — again. Your heart was pounding in your chest, frustration and concern building with every minute that passed.

The door creaked open, and in staggered Theo. His shirt was ripped, blood smeared across his face, and a fresh bruise was already forming on his jaw. His eyes, tired but sharp, met yours.

"Again, Theo?" you sighed, shaking your head but quickly rushing over to him. He gave you that smirk — that infuriatingly charming smirk — despite his obvious pain.

"What can I say? I’ve got a face people just love to punch," he said, voice teasing, though his hand gingerly touched his sore jaw.

You huffed, gently grabbing his wrist and guiding him to sit on the edge of the bed. His legs parted instinctively as you stood between them, the scent of blood and the faint smell of smoke hanging in the air. His gaze followed your every move as you grabbed a cloth, wetting it to dab at his face.

"You’re an idiot, you know that?" you muttered, focusing on the cut on his cheek.

"Mm, yeah, I’ve been told." His voice was deep, almost amused, but it had that rasp from exhaustion, which only made him seem more reckless — and undeniably attractive.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. You dabbed at his bloody nose gently, trying not to press too hard. He winced slightly but didn’t move, his piercing blue eyes never leaving your face.

"What?" you asked, suddenly aware of his intense gaze. It made your stomach flutter, but you tried to ignore it, focusing on cleaning him up.

He didn’t answer immediately, just tilted his head slightly, a faint smirk playing at his lips. "You care too much," he finally said, his voice soft, but there was a spark of mischief in his tone.

"Someone has to," you shot back, a little sharper than you meant. You frowned at the bruise forming near his temple. "You can’t keep doing this. It’s reckless and stupid, Theo. I’m serious."

Theo’s smirk faded as he watched your expression, something shifting behind his eyes. His hands, which had been resting on the bed, suddenly slid up your sides, fingers ghosting under the hem of your shirt. The touch made your breath hitch, and you stilled, the damp cloth forgotten in your hand as his fingers lightly brushed the skin just above your hips.

"Shut up," he murmured, his voice rough, and before you could protest or scold him further, he leaned in, capturing your lips with his.

The kiss was sudden, overwhelming, and everything else melted away. The intensity of it made your knees weak, but Theo’s hands on your waist kept you steady, pulling you closer to him until your body was pressed against his. Your hands instinctively found his shoulders, gripping them for balance, but soon one of them slid up to his neck, fingers tangling in his messy, dark hair.

He groaned softly against your lips, pulling you impossibly closer, deepening the kiss. It was hungry, almost desperate, as though this kiss was the only way to silence the words that neither of you were brave enough to speak.

When you finally pulled back, both of you were breathing heavily. His forehead rested against yours, his hands still under your shirt, fingers warm against your skin.

"I have to admit," you whispered, voice breathless but teasing, "this bloody nose look is really hot on you."

Theo chuckled, his breath hot against your lips. "You’re terrible."

"So are you," you replied, but the teasing lilt to your voice was undeniable. You pressed another kiss to his lips, softer this time, but no less charged with tension.

His hands slid further up your back, fingers tracing patterns on your skin, sending shivers down your spine. "You drive me insane," he whispered between kisses, his voice low and filled with raw desire.

"Good," you breathed, your hand sliding from his neck to his jaw, thumb brushing over the bruise there. He winced slightly but didn’t pull away, his gaze still locked on yours.

The tension between you was palpable, the air thick with unspoken feelings and the heat of the moment. His fingers, still teasing the edge of your shirt, slowly slid higher, his touch both gentle and possessive. Every brush of his skin against yours sent sparks through you, making it harder to think clearly.

Your fingers tightened slightly in his hair, pulling him closer as you kissed him again, harder this time. The room seemed to spin around you, but all you could focus on was the way Theo’s lips moved against yours, the way his hands held you as if he never wanted to let go.

When you finally pulled back, gasping for breath, you rested your forehead against his again, your heart pounding in your chest. His bruised face, though marked with signs of his recent fight, only made him look more dangerous, more intoxicating.

"You’re such an idiot," you whispered, but there was no malice in your voice — only affection.

"And you love it," he shot back, that damn smirk returning to his lips.

You couldn’t deny it.

[vivwritesfics]

Can you write a fic about where lando or reader get injured during sex (nothing serious , something funny they can tell a story about) Like a sprained wrist from fingering or hitting a head on a wall or headboard

Warnings: Smut, fingering, finger riding

Lando is hot, undeniably so. Like, holy fuck, he is something else.

But goofy sex was something pretty regular for the two of them. It started out sexy, sure. It always started out with hot and heavy kisses, neither of them expecting to laugh.

But then it happened. One of them did something that caused them both to burst out into giggles.

This time, when Lando laid her down, all sexy like, the back of her head hit the headboard. "Fuck," she cried, reaching back to hold her head.

The couple looked at each other. Suddenly they were laughing, Lando pulling her close as his chest shook with a laugh. "Sorry baby," he said through a laugh as she laughed with him.

But it wasn't the only time.

This time he had her up against the wall as she rode his fingers, a string of moans leaving her lips. Lando kissed her neck as she moved against him.

"Fuck, Lando," she cried and threw her head back, hitting it slightly against the wall. Neither of them took notice. They were more focused on each other.

Her riding of his fingers only got more aggressive, her moans only got louder. Lando could barely keep up with it. In fact, he couldn't keep up with it.

There was an auditable crack and an instant level of pain. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," he cried as he withdrew his fingers from her, effectively edging her.

"Lan," she asked as she pushed away from the wall. He held his wrist as he stepped away from her, still cursing under his breath.

Suddenly he looked at her, his hand still held in his wrist. "I think I need to go to the hospital."

"Did you break your wrist fingering me?"

"I might have."

[flangore]

❥ she loves me like a dog

feat.: Valentino & Vox/f!reader

summary: You try and run away from Valentino. It's an entirely stupid idea and backfires spectacularly.

warnings: nsfw content, noncon, physical + psychological abuse, unhealthy relationships, violence, punishments, manipulation, Valentino and Vox are their own warnings, guns, object insertion

Every demon in Hell, especially ones who had spent quite some time in the V's part of Pentagram City, knew that there was no escaping Valentino's grasp.

With connections that spread like spiderwebs through every part of town, there was nowhere to be safe, nowhere to hide, given how Vox's eyes reached every street, every alley, a phone or a security camera always in each and every corner.

There was nowhere to hide — except for at the Hazbin Hotel, apparently under the protection of the Radio Demon. You had heard Vox whine and bitch about it at one point, anger dripping off his voice, and, despite knowing better, your heart had lept with hope. Days after, you had tried your hardest to ignore each of the silly ideas making themselves at home in your mind; had attempted to not think of running away, of a better life.

And yet, in the end, you hadn't been able to resist temptation.

Every demon in Hell knew that there was no escaping Valentino's grasp.

That was why you had only yourself to blame for the consequences now that he had caught ahold of you once more, the contract, signed with both of your names, floating next to your face in silent mockery.

Tears brimmed in your eyes; your heart threatened to drop out of your chest with how erratically it was beating.

“I'm kinda disappointed, baby”, Valentino drawled, accent coming through thickly, betraying his calm and collected act. A claw, painted golden, hooked underneath your chin, tilting it upwards until your neck ached, your height difference only adding to the unease curling in your stomach. “Tell me, why did you do feel the need to run away like that?”

Your throat felt tight.

“Come on, you can trust me. Trust us.”

The chains, made of red smoke and currently wound tightly enough to leave marks around your wrists and ankles, really did not make you feel like you were able to trust him. Neither did Vox's presence. Admittedly, he had always unnerved you even more than Valentino had, though, right now, his smirk was downright terrifying.

“Was it the working conditions?” Vox crooned, tone lathered with contempt, with amusement. “Were you unhappy with your job? Do tell us. We're always open to criticism, really.”

There was no explanation that could have excused your actions.

Valentino's smirk widened. “Yeah, babe. What was the issue? I mean, you really can't quit, not with our contract, so what was the purpose of trying to run away?”

“I remember just how grateful you were when Val offered you this opportunity years ago. Do you suddenly think you're too good for us?”

Those words, leaving Vox's mouth so easily, finally dragged you far enough back into reality for you to get a noise out, high-pitched and terrified.

“No”, you choked out, quickly shaking your head, panic making you tremble. “No, that's not—”

“No? Then tell us the reason, mi amor.”

You were pretty certain you were in the middle of a panic attack, lungs feeling too small to take any oxygen in. Not that it mattered right now. “I don't know, I wasn't thinking—”

“That's such a shame. If you at least had an explanation, we could go easy on you.” Vox clicked his tongue, not looking like it was a shame at all. “Val, will you do the honours?”

“Already on it, babe.”

With how large of a being Valentino was, it was all too easy to forget just how quickly he was able to move. Pain bloomed on your cheek, your head spinning, and it took quite a moment for you to realise that he had hit you with the hilt of his gun, custom-made.

In the back of your mind, you wondered whether the rhinestones on it had left indents on your skin.

A metallic taste spread in your mouth. “Please—”

“It's a little late to beg”, Vox remarked.

Valentino's smile was all teeth, unkind in nature. “But it's fine, sweetheart, don't worry. I won't fire you.” His hand cupped your aching cheek, then grabbed ahold of your hair, yanking your head back painfully. “You'll be with us forever. Aren't you grateful? We just have to teach you a lesson. Can't have the bitches acting up, now can we?”

You really had no choice but to nod, tears dripping down your face, surely smearing your makeup, though that was the least of your worries as, suddenly, your bonds shifted, chains pulling taut, changing your position until your legs were wrenched apart.

Panties were rarely part of your work clothing, but being fully bare in front of them right now made bile rise up in your throat.

“See, I wanted to fuck you, remind you who you belong to”, Valentino commented, sounding terribly nonchalant. The muzzle of his gun pressed against the soft skin of your inner thigh, the metal cold. “But Voxxy had better ideas.”

Your heart must have stopped at one point, you were certain of it. This must have been a fever dream, a hallucination.

Despite the panicked thoughts running through your scrambled mind, you didn't protest; had no time to, either. Not that it would have been any use.

Before you knew it, Valentino pushed the gun into you, dry, fuck—, the pain making you cry out, voice high-pitched. Unceremoniously, he shoved it further inside, unrelenting until the hilt of it rested against the lips of your cunt, your whole body tense with agony.

“There we go.” Your eyes flickered over to Vox, the way he was palming himself through his trousers obvious even with your blurry sight. “That's hot. Hah—, look, she's even wet.”

At this point, you hardly noticed that you were screaming, throat aching, the thoughts of running away by now merely an unrealistic fantasy, silly, like the wishes of a spoiled child.

You were, in fact, not wet; instead, blood was easing the glide at least a little, albeit it hardly offered any relief.

You must've torn somewhere. Placing the pain seemed to be an impossible task when simply everything hurt.

At least it wasn't going to get worse from here on — it couldn't possibly.

Valentino just loved to prove you wrong.

“Hey, you think we can fit a dick in there at the same time?”

[harmonysanreads]

“A little bird told me that today is a certain someone's birthday.”

You feel the distinct prickle of two fangs halt halfway through the curve of your throat, a breath stuttering against the now marred skin. The tassels of Aventurine's earning tickles your nape, before his lips replace its unsought touches, soothing over the bite.

“I don't quite recall this,” he drawls upon your neck, gloved fingers slide up from the plush of your thighs and slant against your waist ; a clear message. “Being the resting place of wanton birds.”

You heart kicks against your ribcage as the implications of his words soak into your brain. Your eyes connect with enigmatic swirls when you swivel with a gasp, “It's just one little bird, Aventurine.”

He hums, a ghost of a smile tugs at the corners of his lips, reaching out and failing to grasp his eyes. You feel his other arm wrap around your abdomen and tugging you closer closer closer— until not even whimsical air can intervene in your moment. For a time insignificant compared to the expanding cosmos, he leers and he waits — for you to stumble and forfeit your fortune to him. You've observed this game unfold many times, which is why, you don't so much as blink in the face of his scrutiny.

Aventurine tilts his head, the golden strands that frame his face shift in stride, “It's ‘one little bird’ for now, my jewel. Soon, it'll fly to-and-fro and invite its companions. One bird will become two birds, then three, four, five — until this flower of mine will be torn to shreds.”

Your skin erupts in pins and needles where the blonde's hand rests, the teases of pain make you lean your head against his chest in reflex, but they don't coax pained breaths to escape your lips. Your eyes gloss over upon capturing the dimming orbs heralding the colors of a bygone lineage. You feel as though you were lost in a dark landscape, with a shadowed fox breathing down your neck, claws already sunk midway — but you don't feel like the struggling rabbit, like a prey.

Your palm cradles Aventurine's face, “That's why we keep guns below our pillows, isn't that correct?”

The phantom finally reaches his eyes, his grin spreads across his face and the sun casts aside the darkness from the forest. Aventurine answers your query by tackling you with a flurry of kisses, you feel him at every corner of your body, grasping at every crevice of your soul — but it's not enough, neither for him nor for you.

When the intensity of his advance wanes momentarily, you sneak your hand past his grip to rest atop his chest, “Tell me your wish,” this time his heart revolts against the confines of bone, yearning to be freed and caged into your palm. “What gift do you want for your birthday?”

Aventurine chuckles, though it sounds quite strained this time. His fingers encircle your wrist and press your hand further on his chest for a moment (his shirt does little to mute the rapid marching of his soul) before he drags it to his face, his lips ghost over your pulse point.

“You don't think me to be that greedy, do you?” the humorous lilt of his voice prompts a smile to bloom on your face, too. He sighs as though he breathes in the gardens of heaven, lips firmly pressed to the beat of your existence.

“How can I ever wish for anything more when I have the whole world in my hands?” his eyes twinkle, hugged by a smile. They remind you of autumn sunsets blending into an awestruck ocean, before disappearing behind nightfall.

And just like them, you embrace and merge into one another, as well.

Happy birthday to the luckiest, prettiest, Aventurine <3

[luvfy0dor]

Bites or Hickeys? Various x GN!Reader ੈ✩‧₊˚

Warnings; suggestive, obv biting, hickeys, perhaps ooc,

Fandoms; Bungo Stray Dogs, Death Note, Attack on Titan, Obey Me

A/n; ogs remember when I was purple, but anyways happy 1 year of writing to me!! I'm super proud of my account and I'm so insanely thankful for all the love I've received and acquaintances/friends I've made. Thank you guys so much <3 even tho there have been times where I really thought I'd quit, I kept going and I'm so grateful I did

Bites ★

The feeling of their teeth sinking into your skin makes them feel almost electric, as if a spark has been lit inside their chest and cause an explosion of carnal desire. Some are softer with it, kissing and licking over the imprints of their teeth to soothe the mild pain it might have caused, but others just bite and move on to the next unoccupied spot. They can't help how desperate they are for you and to prove to themselves that they have you, and their affectionate gestures prove that theyre yours. After all, they'd never do the same for anyone else. Ofcourse after the heat of the moment died down, whether they were gentler or rougher earlier, they'd kiss over the indents and whisper soft praises and murmurs about whatever came to mind. Moments like those were their favorites- second to the actual rendezvous, ofcourse.

• RANPO, Dazai, Akutagwa, Kaji, Twain, Sasha, Zeke, Pieck, MELLO, Belphie, Satan, Leviathan

Hickeys ★

They prefer giving hickeys, sometimes because they think it's classier than biting, and others because they don't want to hurt you by biting too hard. They will, however, make you look just as ravaged, littering your pretty skin with dark, organically shaped marks. Their hands pin your wrists above your head while they suck and lick at your neck, humming as if they were enjoying a meal made by a world-class chef. Their eyes would flicker up to meet yours every now and again, lips curling upwards as they shove one of their knees between yours, allowing you to grind against their thigh while they make quick work of undoing your top and belt. They're far more shameless when they're leaving them along your thighs, so shameless that you almost look like you were bruised- no one was going to see them anyways, so why should they be modest? They'd be lying if they said being able to claim you in such a way didnt turn them on. ♡⁠˖

• fyodor, Sigma, Kunikida, Ango, Mori, Fitzgerald, Fukuzawa, Margaret, Poe, Erwin, Mikasa, Reiner, Historia, Lucifer

Both! ★

They simply can't choose, whether adorning your neck and thighs in dark, dotted half-moons or burgundy splotches, they can't get enough of you. They usually leave them in concealed places, but sometimes it's so difficult to not mark you up all over, especially when you're writhing underneath them and clinging to them like a vice because their lips and mouth just feel that good. You'd intertwines your fingers in their hair, pulling them closer or tugging them away when you're lying breathlessly in the wrinkled and messy sheets. They'd ask you if it's too much, rubbing circles into the sides of your hips with a wide, cheeky grin. God, you looked so good underneath them, all bashful and shy with your eyes half lidded and your lips slightly agape. Your labored breaths and quiet sighs were like music to their ears, so really, how could they choose just one when they could give you both and double the fun? ♡⁠˖

• NIKOLAI, Chuuya, yosano, bram, Oda, Atsushi, Lucy, Mushitaro, Tecchou, Tachihara, Eren, jean, Connie, Armin, Hange, maybeee levi, Ymir, Matt, Matsuda, Misa, im torn between both and neither for L, Mammon, Asmo, Beel

Neither ★

They prefer not to leave a physical mark on you, but rather give you a good time to remember them by. A mark will fade quicker than a memory. ♡⁠˖

• Nathaniel Hawthorne, Light, Jouno

A/n: hey chat I didn't realize today was my anniversary so I kinda speedran the characters, it might not be SUIUUPER in character so I'm sorry 😞

[devotedfem]

→ Darkweb

Synopsis: In your 4 years working for the FBI you never witnessed something like this. An unknown hacker that stole all of your confidential files has been blackmailing you for weeks. The only thing he asked in return to not leak confidential information, it's a "date" with you out of the city.

Jeon Jungkook x f. reader

Genre: criminal au | yander-ish

Tags: criminal Jungkook, detective reader, chasing, violence, yandere Jungkook, stalking, stalker Jungkook, hacking, kidnapping, delusional Jungkook.

From the series masterlist; The chasing.

The burning feeling of rage and frustration run hot in your veins. Your files were hacked, all of them.

Every time you try to open a file, a mocking notification shows up:

Accept my date pretty please?

That was what anger you so bad, because the person who is doing all of this just wants a date with you and that was ridiculous and absurd. Couldn’t they ask you like a normal person instead of stealing confidential information? It wasn’t that hard.

“Fucking creep,” you groaned sighing deeply, already tired of dealing with this.

This information was delicate, and the government would arrest you or even kill you if these files fall into the wrong hands. It was something that genuinely frightened you, this wasn’t a game for you, this was serious but that psycho was playing mind games with you, and for what? For a simple date? There must be a bait, definitely.

You tried again to open or close a file, and the same notification shows up, but three times.

Accept my date pretty please?

“Oh my god! Okay you fucking annoying creep!” you shouted, clicking on the accept bottom.

And then, nothing happened.

You snorted rolling your eyes, but your breath hitched the moment that the screen of your laptop went completely dark, and then, another notification shows up, telling you the direction of your date, but what scared you was the message below it:

Don’t be late and go ALONE, or you’ll regret it😊

Your hand trembled a little when you closed the notification, but you felt relieved when you opened your files without problem this time.

But that uneasy feeling was heavy in your stomach, something was really off with this person. But you weren’t a coward and neither a bad detective, so you will endure this.

Hopefully you will end alive.

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

The last thing you remember, it’s sitting in a restaurant waiting for your stalker before you felt a sting at the back of your head and everything turning black.

You groaned with pain, blinking slowly to open your eyes. Your heart stopped and your veins run ice cold at the sight before you. You were in a dark warehouse, with your legs and wrists bounded, sitting in front of a table with candles and food.

Was this your date?

The realization frightened you, and although you were expecting something like this to happen, you didn’t feel any less scared. You couldn’t help the tears streaming from your eyes.

A tall and buff man sat in front of you, he was dressed nice and all in black. He has a youthful face with piercings in his lips and tattoos all over his arms. Your heart squeeze inside of your chest, he was so handsome, why didn’t he just ask you out?

He took off the tape of your mouth, smiling prettily like a bunny.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? Why did you kidnap me? Couldn’t you just ask me out like a normal person? Or fucking have this date in that restaurant instead of… here,” you said watching your surroundings with distress.

The sweet smile of the man fell at your words, his face hardened making you feel nervous.

And then, he slammed his hand on the table, making some things to fall to the ground, shattering. You startled scared, watching him with wide eyes.

“You will speak to me nicely! And you should be more grateful that I took you here instead of killing you!” he shouted with anger, and your eyes blurred with tears.

You nodded, too scared to speak.

His face softens immediately, and he stands to come closer to you, grabbing gently your chin to make you look up at him.

“I didn’t mean to yell at you sweetheart, but don’t make me angry again, okay?” he asked softly, but his eyes were hard with a warn written in them.

You nodded again, but he just sighed annoyed.

“Words, y/n.”

“Okay,” you whispered, and he smiled at you widely, stroking your cheek as a reward.

“That’s my good girl,” he said smirking, but he didn’t move from his place, instead he came closer to you, leaning his hands on each side of your chair, caging you between his arms. You looked up at him with fear, and he seemed to like it.

“And no, I didn’t kidnap you. You accepted this date, it’s consensual, and you know what is consensual too? You living with me very far away from here.” He said with mischievous and darkness in his eyes.

This time you cried with desperation.

“No that’s not true! I just accepted your date, not you kidnapping me!” you wailed, scared and angry, but he just looked at you with amusement and sadism.

“You should’ve know better before clicking that bottom.”

You laugh wetly with bitterness and no humor. The man was crazy and that didn’t even surprise you.

You were so fucked up.

Ko-fi

Taglist:

@demonshauntingthedoves @oddracha

[amara-scott]

Imagine Mattheo and Theodore fighting over you constantly.

P.1

Reader x Mattheo Riddle / Reader x Theodore Nott

"The picknick was a good idea, I have to admit." I say, dropping another grape into my mouth, a full mouth turned into a smile. I sneak another one out of the basket Theo is carrying.

I glance over at Theo and he nods, grinning. He winks. "I know, Carina. I always have the best ideas, you should know that by now." I roll my eyes in amusement at his cocky statement.

As if on cue, I see a brown mop of curls rounding the corner, making me sigh. Great. Just great.

"Hey, what a surprise." Mattheo says, not seeming too happy as his eyes land on Theodore beside me. Mattheo shuffles something inside his jacket, flashing white, which I only catch a glimpse of. But I can't even question what it was before these two begin staring each other down.

An undeniably painful pause is the only thing holding me back from just turning around to run away. It's scaring me to even move a muscle. If these two don't sort out whatever is bugging them, I won't hesitate and avoid them both. I really did try to help them befriend each other once more. Their inner rivalry didn't get unnoticed by the rest of our friend group either. What has gotten into them these past few weeks?

"(Y/N), let's get going." Theo's free hand wraps around my wrist, not even glancing at me once while talking. He turns and tries to pull me with him, but not before Mattheo steps up, pushing Theo.

I stumble with him, still being in the grasp of Theo's strong hand. He let go and I take a step back.

"Excuse me?!" I get out before straightening up, rearranging my cloak. My glare hits Mattheo, but he is fixed on the boy in front of him as they now nearly graze noses. If I didn't know these two, I'd say one of them would be a Gryffindor. That would make sense at least. This is worse than Draco and Harry.

"Where do you think you're taking her, huh?" He grits out, and I can't say a word, too stunned I am being dragged into this ongoing fight now.

"Stop it, both of you!" I yell, but neither of them are backing down, making it really hard not to just ask a Professor to break them off. I glance around, only a few students hushing past, not daring to spare a look.

"We are going somewhere that is none of your concern, Riddle."

"Yeah? I don't think so, Nott."

"Why don't you fuck off and shag one of your whores, mind your own damn business!"

I had never seen either of them so worked up, which certainly was scary to look at. I try once more, "boys, come on, this is ridiculous." I gulp as they still don't look at me. My heart starts racing, and I try to find a way out that won't result in broken noses or wands at each other throats. What is going on with these two?!

"Come on, (Y/N)." Theo says again, making me debate what I should do. Pick a side? I don't want to be the reason one is more mad or disappointed by what I do.

"No." I mumble, feeling my eyes sting as I blink. I gulp once more, Theo's eyes finding my form a few feet behind Mattheo. His face relaxes as he looks at me.

"See? She doesn't want you, Nott." I can only make out the corner of Mattheo's lips as they curl up into a grin. Which doesn't help my situation.

"I'm not picking a side here, Matt, you are both acting extremely childish over – over, who knows what!" I turn and storm off, ignoring Matt and Theo yelling my name.

These idiots took it too far now. I won't speak a word – won't spare them another glance. Ugh, boys!

___

"-and he pushed Theo! Like a little kid! What is going on with these two?" I sat across from Pansy, piercing my fork into my piece of chocolate cake over and over again until it went mushy and the appetite left me. I sigh, my fork dropping onto the table, and I bury my face into my hands.

"You know them. They will get over it. Theo probably stole Matt's last fudge fly. They're boys, just like you said." She mumbles and keeps chewing on her dessert, eyes scanning the next page of her Witch Weekly magazine.

"I hope you're right." I mutter under my breath.

"Hey you two-" Draco joins us at the table, sitting down next to Pansy, Enzo settles beside me, I send him a brief smile.

"What's pestering you, (Y/N)? Or should I ask – who's pestering you?" He snickers and earns a stare from Pansy, making him shut up.

"Wait – do you know something, Draco?" I ask him and squint my eyes at him. He obviously does, as he stutters for a word, shaking his head. His cheeks slightly pink.

"Enzo, what is going on? Where are the others?" I turn to him, he sighs but shakes his head, sending me a small and sorry smile.

"I promised not to tell anyone. Especially not you, love." I grow irritated with the lot and push myself up, sending another glare at Draco, he would be easier to break. I take out my wand, holding it by my side and start boring holes into his head. He tries to avoid my deathly stare. But then he makes the mistake of connecting his eyes with mine.

"If you won't tell me right now where they are, I will personally make sure to have you grow a second nose every day, for the rest of the year – you will smell things you wish you didn't –"

"– come on, (Y/N), we promised –"

"– In the library, in the far back corner on the second level –" Draco squeaks, making Enzo glare at him in shock.

"We promised, Draco!"

"I don't care, I know she'll do it. I don't want a nose on my bum one morning! She knows how to get into our dorm." Draco snarls and glares at the table as I hurry off. Pansy only smirking and eating her second dessert in peace.

"Go get them!" She calls out without looking up and I wave her off, pushing past a few people on my way. My heart is racing and I don't know if I want to even meet these idiots. I promised myself to ignore them. Well that didn't take long for me to break.

I round the corner and walk into the library. My racing thoughts made this quiet place unbearable as I heard every damn thought of mine. But just as I take the last couple steps on the stairwell, I am met with hushed shouting.

"– how about you're both idiots? I really am hungry and if you two make me miss dinner, you won't sleep another night –" I hear Blaise taunting. I glance between a few books on the shelf, making out three heads. There they are. Blaise sits by the window, I could see his face clear as day. Theo sat sideways, eyes turned to the table in between them both. Mattheo on the other hand stands, pacing back and forth. He stops, just as my breath.

"Theo simply has to admit that he went behind my back. He took away the only thing that really mattered –"

"The only thing that mattered? The only thing that mattered to you was to simply get laid! Like always – just pick a different girl!" Theo stands up too now, Mattheo stepping up to his figure.

Blaise suddenly steps between them, hands on either chest and looks back and forth. "Hey, boys, you truly think we haven't had these lines already tonight? You're both ridiculous."

So this is about a girl? Is this about –

"Well, (Y/N) would never pick someone like you."

Shit.

"Like me? You're one to talk, Nott – stealing her from me, right after I told you I liked her. I trusted you, you are supposed to be my fucking best mate!" Their hushed voices are not so hushed anymore and I glance down to Miss Pince's desk. She narrows her eyes, scanning the upper level.

Blaise is struggling to hold Mattheo back now, Theo's lips curling into a smirk. I lean closer, my eyes still wide. How do they both like – me? Is this a stupid prank?

WHACK!

I was obviously leaning onto the shelf a bit too much as a book fell to the ground. Their heads turn to me and I could now clearly see all of them through the opening. I give them a weak smile and wave. "Hey –"

"(Y/N)?" Theo asks, stepping forward, around the shelf. I meet him half way, Mattheo’s eyes as hard as stone. My mouth feels dry while I try to think of what to say. I shrug and try to smile. My eyes land on Blaise who seems relieved, sighing as he walks up to me and wraps an arm around my shoulder, glancing between Theo and Matt.

“Maybe you’re the best to talk to them right now.” He pats my shoulder and turns to leave, I turn my head, wanting to tell him to stay, my heart racing. Blaise stops, glancing back at me. “Good luck.” He smirks and skips down the staircase. I really don’t want to turn back around so I take my time, gulping as I focus on both their shoe pairs instead of any eyes. Theo steps up slowly. “Carina, what did you hear?” My eyes shoot up at his question and Matt huffs, falling back into a cushioned arm chair.

“Obviously she heard it all. Otherwise she would be smacking our heads by now.” He mumbles at the end, his head held high as he’s glaring down at his knees, his hands squeezing the soft armrests. His sharp jaw clenching every now and then.

“I- I really-“ I take a deep breath shaking my head. “- don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything.” Theo sends me a small encouraging smile. Matt’s head rolls back as he groans out.

“Oh please, stop that stupid emphasizing scheme!” Matt stands back up and joins us, glaring at Theo in disgust. Theo just rolls his eyes, turning to him.

“Just because you’re cold-hearted and only care about yourself doesn’t mean everyone has to-“

“-oh I only care about myself? You’re one to talk, fucking backstabber-“

“-Me? You are-“

“Hey!” I yell out, them both turning to me as they are once again almost choking each other. I ignore a few shushes thrown our way. Mattheo’s eyes soften as I look directly at him. His lips part and in his eyes I see that he’s struggling to hold back from saying what’s on his mind. “Matt-“ I get out, holding back my own emotional rollercoaster.

“I- I can’t-“ He stammers, rushing past me and running down the stairs, leaving. I walk up to the railing, my hands closing around the cold wood while I am looking after him.

“It’s true, isn’t it?” My head snaps around, Theo’s sad eyes glossy. He looks down, stepping closer and stops a foot from me. His eyes wandering back up, like he’s taking one last good look at me. Taking me in.

“It’s always been him.” He continues.

———

For part two choose your ending:

Mattheo

Theodore

Third ending?... (coming soon)

[onlyswan]

i’m back to give you my iw!couple brain rot 🤲, please handle with care.

but !! imagine jungkook and oc doing that “see how long we can go without kissing” challenge !! how would fold first? they’re both so competitive but smitten it makes me conflicted. 😣😣

knowing them, jungkook would be twitching his eye just from the thought of being deprived kissies so would oc give in first to let him win? or would jungkook just take what’s his?? 🤔

imagine oc being a blushing mess from staring at jungkook’s face for too long 😵‍💫 THEYRE SO CUTE I CANT THINK STRAIGHT😭🫶

summary: in which jungkook is twenty-six years old and yet… you still give him butterflies.

idol!jk x reader, established relationship / word count: 0.7k

content/warnings: sexual tension, making out, it’s honestly just them fighting over who gets to be on top

> in which masterlist!

note: hehe hi anonie… sorry… i kindaaa got carried away… i had to write out the thing or else i would’ve gone insane just talking about it <3 (written with love and care) <3

—

“i don’t understand this challenge.”

“me neither,”

jungkook remains in a hypnotic-like trance, doe eyes trained to your lips stained with a lighter shade of mixed red and brown.

“we’re this close and we can’t kiss…? this is absurd.”

“do they actually do this in bed? with someone on top?” you chuckle as you coyly twirl a lock of his hair around your finger. “i don’t think so?”

“i don’t know. i just wanted you to be comfortable.” he teasingly brushes his nose against yours, and the air in your lungs becomes suspended. “since, you know, we’ll be here a while.”

“oh wow. bringing me to bed, really? you’re that confident?”

he cockily raises an eyebrow. “hm, we both know you won’t be able to resist me here. you’re all over me all the time.”

you try not to roll your eyes in annoyance. and you also both know that you’re just as competitive, if not more.

“oh my god, you,” you mumble. the calm of your voice contrasts the aggressive push of your hand against your boyfriend’s naked chest. “and your stupid arrogance and your stupid need to flaunt your stupid hot body.”

in the blink of an eye, jungkook finds you stradding him, and himself, trapped underneath your body. he blinks in disbelief, tongue poking the inside of his cheek.

“this is dirty.”

you remove his glasses, moving it aside without care. “that’s just your mind.”

okay, perhaps bringing you to bed was a bad idea.

you lean down, slowly, close and then closer— it’s quite ridiculous that he’s nervous as if he doesn’t know what is bound to happen next: he’s thoroughly convinced that you’re going to kiss him.

once he feels your lips ghost over his, mere millimeters away, his eyelids flutter shut.

terrible idea. terrible.

the kiss, much to his disappointment, never happens.

he opens his eyes and your face is suddenly tucked in the space between his neck and shoulders, giggling and shaking and positively amused.

he turns away and squeezes his eyes shut. a painful admit of defeat against your infinite allure. “ah, i’m fucked.”

“we’ll get there later,” you lift your head, tilting his chin to face you.

you smile and scoot closer. so close that your bottom lips grazes his. he fails to remember the last time the two of you touched as chastely, as softly, but it felt like accidentally touching a live wire. he gets a funny feeling in his stomach. butterflies…? he’s twenty-six years old. he must be losing his mind.

“after you lose.”

“that’s not happening, baby.”

“yes, it will.”

“i won’t give up so easily.”

you give him an innocent look. “but i really think you will.”

you stare at each other for a little while, anticipating the other’s next move.

“fuck- yeah, okay-” he grits his teeth, taking advantage of his strength to finally flip back your positions. you’ve had your fun. “you’re right.”

“babe! ru-”

your surprised gasp is cut off by jungkook’s lips crashing on yours— curved into a smirk, you can feel it. your whines are muffled and swallowed by him, wrists caught in his hands and over your head because you were hitting his shoulder and he just wanted to kiss his baby properly.

“you lost,” you remark quietly when he draws back, only inches away, to scatter kisses along your face and down to your neck.

it tickles, you squirm in pleasure when he reaches near your collarbone, but your hands are still tied.

you were supposed to have him underneath you as a hot and flustered mess, not the other way around. damn it.

“really?” he feigns interest, lips finding their way back to yours. “doesn’t feel like it.”