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marginalmadness · 3 years

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Summer Nights 4/4

Pairing: Rabbit!Hybrid Jungkook x Y/N

Rating: Explicit

Genre: Hybrid!Fantasy, Romance, Fluff, Slowburn

Synopsis: A freak weather anomaly leads to a chance encounter with a rabbit-hybrid, and your kind nature results in you gaining a small, fluffy lodger, who questions your taste in television shows. It’s won’t be for long…will it?

Warnings/Tags: Heat/Mating cycles, Light Dom/Sub dynamics as part of JK’s heat, Marking, needy/possessive behaviour, edging, sex, oral (female receiving), an almost obscene amount of cum in this chapter, cumplay, biting, breeding talk,

Author’s Note: And finally we get to the good-good. This chapter grew in the editing, much like Endymion did by like 1/3rd, so there’s extra porn in here from what I originally wrote lol. I’m always afraid it’s going to get boring or repetitive but @johobi loved it and that’s good enough for me, and I hope you all enjoy it too! Thank you for coming on this journey with me, and for your patience and understanding as I blue-balled you for three weeks 💜 I also quote one of my favourite TV shows in this chapter, first one to find it gets a free commission!

Previous Chapters: Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Tags: @kookiebunny97 @mintyrae @skswriting @jjkgumdxop @unicornbabylover

Word Count: 7K

Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction for entertainment purposes only. The events depicted here are entirely of my own imagining, and have no basis on actual people or events.

Summer Nights: Chapter Four

“I—w-want… you—” you stutter, and his hand slips from your hair to grip your chin between his thumb and forefinger.

“Say it,” he growls.

“Inside me.”

Your chest heaves. Your walls clench around nothing as you imagine how good he’s going to feel thrusting into you. It’s hard to ignore the wetness sliding from you.

“Good girl.” Jungkook smiles, letting go of your chin.

He sits back on his haunches, grabbing you by the knee and sliding one arm under the small of your back to pull you onto his lap as he moves. You shudder as he wraps your legs around his slim, sculpted waist. His firm, warm hand slides up your thigh towards your entrance, thumb stroking over your clit once—twice—before he takes himself in hand and presses the head of his cock into your heat.

You lean up on your elbows, threading your fingers into his hair to pull him down into a demanding kiss. You tease his lips with the tip of your tongue, licking your way inside and he more than happily opens up for you. You slide your lithe tongue against his, both of you smiling into the kiss before you pull back, pecking his nose and rubbing it with your own. “I want you inside me,” you whisper, forehead pressed to his, eyes tightly screwed closed.

“Baby, look at me.” Jungkook’s voice is soft but gruff; it’s a command. You force your eyes to open, blinking up into the dark, tumultuous depths that peer back at you. His eyes are alight with passion and lust, and something underneath it all that takes your breath away.

“I want you inside of me, Koo.” You nod, trying to express all the affection, longing and trust you feel for him in one gaze.

Jungkook slides into you easily, yet torturously slow. You gasp at the intrusion, wet enough that there’s no resistance or pain. It’s just sweet pleasure as he stretches you, pressing and pulsing against your walls.

“Oh my go—” you gasp, falling backwards and clawing at his forearms. “You’re so—” His cock feels amazing; not too long, but the girth—holy shit, the girth. He’s perfect. A flushed, bulbous head tops a thick shaft that thickens even further towards the base. The deeper he pushes into you, the more he stretches you. His large hand struggles to wrap around its root, and now it’s buried deep, deep inside you. Jungkook stretches you enough that you feel every vein, every throb, every press of his thick tip against that spot inside you.

He pulls out just as slowly, the only sound in the room the laboured sound of your breathing and the slick sounds of him moving within you. Jungkook holds the tip of himself inside you, waiting for something, and as soon as your eyes flick up to his, he thrusts. Hard.

Once.

Twice.

Again and again and again and again, all you can do is hold on, nails digging into his skin. You suddenly have a full appreciation for the phrase fucking like bunnies, because he is pounding into you so hard and fast you can feel your juices being forced out by his cock. Can feel them coating Jungkook’s thighs, making them slick and sticky, but he doesn’t seem to care. Your orgasm builds rapidly, liquid warmth spreading outward from your core, down your legs, up your spine. The hairs at the nape of your neck tingle; you’re so close.

And suddenly your pussy is being filled.

“Darling—ah—!” Jungkook cries as scorching hot liquid coats your walls. He collapses to your chest, huffing and growling against it as he continues to roll his hips, emptying himself deep inside you. You frown, upset at another missed orgasm, when Jungkook delicately moves you onto the mattress.

He looms over you, breathing heavily, the same predatory look in his eyes as before. You glance down to where you’re still connected, legs still wrapped around his waist, and you realise he’s still hard despite the fact he just came.

“Oh,” you whisper, eyes wide. You glance back up at him. As soon as you do, Jungkook is kissing you. A bruising kiss, biting and nibbling his way into your mouth, teeth tugging at your lower lip until you gasp and his tongue slides in.

It distracts you enough that you don’t notice the way he manipulates your legs, hooking them over his elbows until you’re exposed and spread wide before him. Jungkook pulls out, only to slam back into you with no time to adjust. The room fills with wet, obscene sounds. When you realise he’s fucking you through his own cum, heat rushes to your face. Your pussy must be an absolute mess. The depravity of it makes you lift your arms to conceal your blush.

“Don’t do that. I want to see,” Jungkook demands, settling back on his knees and repositioning your legs over his shoulders. He pulls your arms away from your face so he can lace your fingers together. The warmth of him helps you feel grounded. “Don’t hide yourself from me.” He squeezes your hands as he slams into you again, his dark eyes trained on your face. “Don’t ever hide yourself from me, please.”

“O-okay,” you gasp breathlessly as Jungkook pounds into you. “I pr-promise.” The grip on your hands gives him leverage to pull you into his thrusts, the angle and subtle curve of his cock perfect for hammering your g-spot. Each thrust makes you spasm, makes you lose control of the muscles in your thighs. You whine incessantly. Jungkook laughs as you lose yourself to pleasure, laying kisses and gentle nibbles on your ankle. Within minutes he’s coming again, grunting as he spills into you. Your cunt is starting to feel too full. A strange feeling indeed. You’re still yet to have an orgasm and you’re so damn close, so sensitive, that tears prickle your eyes.

Jungkook leans forward, staying inside you, staying hard. He tugs your legs around his waist and starts up a punishing, rolling grind, at odds with the gentleness with which he kisses the tears gathering on your lashes.

Finally, finally, finally.

The pressure against your clit, the thickness of his cock against your walls as his hips undulate; it’s too much. You cling to him as you explode around him, digging your nails into his muscled back.

“Jungkookie, I’m gonna—” you mewl, burying your face in his neck as you shake apart. Every muscle in your body trembles and twitches as electricity runs through it, crackling under your skin. You’ve been edged for so long, kept on the knifepoint of desperation, and now you’re free-falling. Your cunt tightens violently around Jungkook’s cock, grasping it, milking it until he’s growling. He gives you one last slam before emptying himself inside you for the third time. His cock pulses endlessly, coating your walls with ropes of sticky hot seed.

Cautiously, Jungkook slides out of you, cock finally flaccid. The heat in his eyes has diminished to an affectionate glow. Your sweet baby Koo is back for now. Your pussy feels overfull, like it’s ready to burst. You reach down to stroke your stomach and you swear you can feel his abundant cum bulging inside you, even though you know you can’t. Jungkook’s hand covers yours and he hums, flopping happily beside you. His fingers slide lower, over your mound and around your vulva, cupping it delicately. As though to keep everything inside.

“You’re so good for me,” Jungkook mumbles into your hair. “Taking me so well. Gonna breed you so good.” His tone is somewhere between a sigh and a growl and it makes you shiver in pleasure to hear him so possessive of you. “You’d look so beautiful, full and round with my kits.” He lays soft kisses against your temple, rubbing it with his nose.

You snuggle close to him, hands trailing up his chest to carefully cup his face and pull him down to you, demanding a proper kiss. You pull apart and he nudges you with his nose. “You feeling okay?” Jungkook asks softly.

You nod, sucking his bottom lip into your mouth again. “I feel really full,” you whisper against his chin shyly before nipping it with your teeth.

“Full?” Jungkook asks, amused, and you continue to nod as your teeth work their way up his jaw.

“Full of you. I could—” You bite your lip, burying your face in his chest, hiding though your face burns.

“Could what?” His voice deepens. “I asked you not to do that.” There’s a rumble in his chest. And then his fingers are threading into your hair, pulling your head backwards so he can look at you as you speak. You can’t defy him. Don’t want to defy him.

“I could feel you filling me up, then pushing it out,” you whisper, your cheeks flushing in shame. Or arousal. Maybe both. “I could feel how slick and sticky it was as it spilled out of me and down my thighs and over yours. It felt messy.”

Jungkook’s breath grows heavier, coming out in heavy pants. “Fuck,” he swears. “Fuck, I need to look.” He moves, shuffling around the nest until he’s kneeling between your legs, pushing them apart and spreading you open to him. “It’s everywhere.” His eyes roam over your core, the backs of your thighs. “Oh, shit. You smell amazing, love.” Jungkook falls forward, nuzzling his face into the juncture of your thigh and sniffing deeply. His voice grows rough. “Like both of us and sex and I’m getting hard again just from the scent. Fuck. Let me clean you up. Hold your legs for me, baby.” He shuffles even further back, getting into that comfortable loaf shape he loves so much. You grab your legs just behind the knees and whimper softly as he starts laying soft kisses and licks across the backs of your thighs. Nipping and sucking red marks into them. You watch the top of his head work between your legs, breath catching with the occasional glimpse of eye contact, as he intently watches your reaction.

When Jungkook is satisfied with the job he’s made of your thighs and you’re a squirming, whimpering mess, he hones in on your pussy. It pulses and contracts around nothing in its arousal, begging to be filled, his cum trickling toward the cleft of your ass. He separates your folds with his thumbs, exposing your deepest parts to him and giving you one last, heated look before he’s teasing your opening with his tongue. He pushes it in as deep as it will go, digging his seed out of you and swallowing it with a growl of satisfaction. With the flat of his tongue, he gives you a long, firm lick, dragging it over the flushed and swollen area. You flinch and cry out.

“What’s wrong?” Jungkook asks, eyes wide in panic.

“It’s too much… hurts,” you whine, wiggling your hips. “S-sensitive after you being so rough and filling me up.”

“I’m sorry,” he pouts. His lips, shiny with both your juices, stretch into a wide grin. “You sounded like you were enjoying it at the time.” Jungkook quirks an eyebrow at you. “I’ll be gentle, I promise.” He pecks a kiss to the top of your pubic bone, trailing down to lay more at the soft crease of your thigh. His lips are soft and sticky, and so is his tongue when it arrives at your abused pussy. Jungkook dutifully cleans the mess created from your previous rounds, taking his time as though the act were some holy sacrament and it was his duty to carry it out. He alternates from side to side, between kisses and nose rubs, licks and gentle sucks against your skin. Jungkook performs this ritual thoroughly along your thighs and core, until there’s only one thing left. The thing he wanted all along.

The time Jungkook spends worshiping your pussy makes you feral. When he finally, gently dips his tongue into your cunt - just the tip - to tease you, you mewl, clutching at his head. Your fingers tangle into his soft brunette locks as he tongues at his reservoir of cum.

“P-please, Bun. Please don’t tease me,” you cry as your hips wind against the sheets. Jungkook swallows and growls against your open core, immediately diving back in, gentleness forgotten. He attacks your pussy like a man starved, his agile tongue probing and lapping, dragging his seed from you for consumption. Jungkook moans into your cunt like you are the finest delicacy he’s ever sampled. The vibrations send you spiraling, and before you know it you’re coming again. This time in his mouth. “Oh, God!”

Your hips buck wildly, your hands as fists in his hair. You grind your core against his face until your combined juices are flooding his mouth. Jungkook holds you steady, strong as he is, arms wrapped tightly around your waist, holding you in place so all you can do is arch your back and strain against the mattress. Your hips fight against Jungkook’s hold to rise of their own accord.

You come harder than you’ve ever come before and yet Jungkook’s tongue continues to lave against you, lips sucking with abandon. He’s like a wild animal; taking everything you have and demanding more. Every muscle in your body is taut and your slick paints his mouth and chin. But Jungkook is still not done. He licks and sucks, licks and sucks, pulling pleasured pain from you, dark eyes watching you smugly as you shatter on his tongue. You tremble, twitch in ways that are beyond your control as aftershocks run through you. You desperately seek respite but Jungkook is entranced by your messy cunt.

“Mmmm. So beautiful, so sweet,” he murmurs, his licks becoming softer, if just as agonising. The flat of his tongue laps a broad stripe up your slit, only to flick your clit with the tip. You fight to push him off, no words available to you, no air in your lungs. Tears run down your face at the intensity of your orgasm and once you realise you’re not strong enough to push him off, you change tactics, pulling him towards you instead of away.

“Jungkooooooook, nonononono, it’s too much. Bun, please,” you cry, shudder and shake. You tug desperately on his hair.

It works.

Jungkook growls and stalks up your body, every inch of him thrumming with erotic purpose. Your fingers never leave his hair, pulling him to you, guiding him to where you want him.

The lower half of his face is shiny with your juices.

You want to taste him.

You want to taste yourself on him.

As soon as he’s level with you, he drops to his forearms and kisses you. Forces his tongue between your lips, demanding entrance, which you willingly give. Immediately your mouth is flooded with bitter, salty-sweet liquid. He pushes it into your mouth, sharing your mixed essences and you moan as his tongue fights with yours, your mouths full of each other on a carnal, intimate level. You enjoy the taste of both of you to an embarrassing level; it feels so forbidden, so taboo, and your cheeks burn with equal shame and arousal. You swallow everything he gives you, moving your lips to lick and suck at his chin, cleaning him of your own slick. The sound he makes is almost a purr as your clean-up progresses to the underside of his jaw. You’re so focused on pulling happy noises from him you don’t even notice when he wraps your legs around his hips.

Until he slams into you in one, forceful thrust.

“Urgh, love, you’re so perfect. Taking me so easily,” Jungkook grunts. “I’m going to fill you u-up again.” Your hands move from his hair to hook under his arms, clinging to his shoulders, nails clawing into his back as the intensity overtakes you. You’re wrapped around him as much as you possibly can be, whimpering and shuddering in pleasure. Your poor, swollen pussy clenches around his thick girth, trying to cling to him, keep him inside you, claim him as he pounds into you mercilessly.

His pace is ruthless. The sound of skin on skin echoes in the room, drowning out your harsh panting. You feel your skin prickling, heating up with every slap of his hips as they hit the back of your thighs. Jungkook watches you as he fucks you, his gaze more intense than it’s been all night. All you can do is hold onto him, mouth open wordlessly, unable to vocalise much beyond unintelligible moans. It’s a struggle to breathe when he’s fucking you so, his cock stretching you deliciously, making you lose your mind.

Jungkook huffs out a small laugh. “Breathe, darling.” His long, floppy ears hang about his face, brushing your cheeks as he thrusts.

It’s then that you recall something he previously said.

Deviously, you trail a hand from his shoulders to his back, dragging your nails down his flawless, golden skin; just hard enough to leave gentle, red trails. Jungkook shudders, arching his back as he fucks you. Your real prize is the fluffy tail. The one he told you not to touch unless you were in the nest. Your fingers dig into the soft tuft of fur at the base of his spine, scratching gently like you would his ears.

The effect is immediate.

“Fuck,” Jungkook hisses from between his teeth, hips stuttering in their movements. He’s coming inside you again, sudden and unexpectedly. You giggle and continue playing, trailing your fingers through his tail, swirling the soft fur around your knuckles. You smile up at him as he practically vibrates. He comes for an obscenely long time, shuddering all the while.

“Found your weak spot, Bun,” you whisper. Like it’s some big secret.

Jungkook leans down, kissing you roughly, all swollen lips and nipping teeth. “You taste so fucking good with my cum in you. I want to eat you all day, all night. Breakfast, lunch and dinner. I’ll tie you to the bed. My tongue belongs in your pussy.” A hand finds its way into your hair, tightening its grip, pulling your head back. Exposing your neck to him. “The only thing you’re ever going to ride again is my face. Understand?” His voice is a deep, rumbling growl. You squeak out your agreement as his mouth attacks your throat.

Your ambiguous consent isn’t good enough for Jungkook.

You have no idea how, but he starts fucking you harder, piling more force behind each thrust, tilting his hips just right to hit that spot inside you as he pistons in and out. “I said, ‘Do. You. Understand?’”

“Ooh—uh—fuh—Kookie—!” you wail helplessly, your throat raw as you struggle to drag enough air into your lungs. Pleasure builds threateningly between your legs. That's when he strikes. Jungkook thrusts, deep and hard, angling himself to grind against your clit as he winds his hips in a slow, sinuous roll, like waves on the ocean. His mouth attaches to your neck, teeth sinking in deep. He bites and licks and sucks; marking you. The pain is sweet, sends electricity surging to your pussy, making it explode. You can feel yourself tighten around him and Jungkook growls against your neck, pulsing inside you as he comes again.

“You’re so perfect,” he groans, lips never leaving your skin as he shudders through his milking. Your orgasm lasts longer than any you’ve had before. You tremble against him for what seems like hours, his arms holding you steady as he continues to languidly fuck into you. He goes slow and deep, his cock never softening as he moves his mouth to a different part of your neck. You whimper when he switches sides, latching onto a patch of skin just below your ear that would be incredibly difficult to hide.

You feel like you’re having an out of body experience. As Jungkook rolls his hips into you, you continue to ride the high of your orgasm, your entire body weightless. Where he touches you, static electricity dances across your skin; everywhere his hands skim, everywhere his lips touch. He never lets up on your neck, sucking and licking and biting. You’re perfect, you’re perfect, you’re perfect he chants against your skin, working his way down your chest and leaving blooming bruises in his wake. Pleasure continues to wash over you, needlelike in intensity. Tears spill from your eyes; you want to cry out, to yell, but you can’t. Your mouth opens in a silent scream as you thrash against the bed, hands reaching out to grab at anything to ground you. Vaguely, you feel heat flood you again as Jungkook pumps you full of his seed once more.

“Ah!” he cries, somewhere between a sob and a sigh.

He shifts until he has you by the hips and resumes his thrusting without so much as a pause. You can scarcely believe it. His nose trails your midriff to your navel, bunny teeth nibbling the skin around your belly-button. A meandering flower path of vibrant bruises marks you from your neck downwards. Jungkook sits back, muscles rippling, pulling you flush to him. The feeling of floating finally abandons you, your entire body tingles and shivers like it’s been doused in ice water. All sensation rushes down to one singular place; between your legs. Jungkook slams his hips into you, hard and fast, hard and fast. He wraps an arm around your lower back, lifting you, suspending you in the air as he continues to fuck into you with a fury. Again and again. Unrelenting. Your arms flail, desperate for something to hold on to.

“I need to fill you. I need to breed you and you’re going to take everything I give you,” Jungkook grinds out, teeth gritted.

“Yes,” you gasp, forcing the words out. “Fill me. Breed me. I want it, want you,” you sob, covering your face. But Jungkook moves your arm, pinning it above your head, forcing the angle deeper. He stares at you as he fucks your cunt, challenging you. You’re desperate to look away, but you can’t. The intensity of his eyes, the set of his jaw, the sweat dripping down his face. All framed by long ears and damp curls.

It’s impossible to look away from him.

You reach up to pull him into a kiss. It’s open and messy; he’s using most of his focus to fuck you.

“Up, up, I want to be up,” you demand. The hand pinning your wrist to the mattress slides downward and secures your shoulders, lifting you onto his lap with ease. You wrap your arms around him, nuzzling his ears as he readjusts his hold on you to fuck up into you. The change in position provides constant friction to your clit. Your poor, engorged clit that’s been subjected to so much tonight. The curve of Jungkook's cock rubs against your front wall, caressing your similarly sensitive g-spot. His stunning display of strength to hold you up while fucking you makes your pussy clench and gush around his length. You know he’s fit; know he’s stronger than he lets on, but the fact he can lift you and throw you around like it’s nothing has you weak for him; makes you shudder in his arms. You kiss his ears which twitch and flick, and he returns in kind by nibbling along your shoulders, moaning thanks to your endeavours. You score his back with your nails, leaving more marks. Jungkook lifts his head and nudges you with his nose, biting at your bottom lip.

“Mark me,” he growls between thrusts.

“What?” you gasp, frowning in confusion. He can’t be serious. Marking is an incredibly personal thing. You understand Jungkook does it because he has urges; urges he can’t control. But you don’t.

He’s choosing this.

“Do it properly, don’t tease.” Jungkook smirks, kissing you. “Mark me.” He tilts his head to the side, flicking his ear and hair out of the way. You look down, momentarily distracted by the way his abs contract and roll as he fucks you. But then your eyes travel up to land on his taut, sweat-covered neck. Leaning forward, you kiss it, licking and sucking something fierce. Jungkook starts to huff, sending hot puffs of air over your shoulder. His noises change, dwindle into more of a whimper, his hips stuttering the harder you press your teeth into his skin and hum. As you worship his neck with your tongue and teeth, you drag your nails up and down his back, leaving scratches in your wake, rather than just red marks.

Jungkook whines and grunts under your rough treatment; you can feel his cock throbbing inside you as he prepares to empty himself into you once again. You place your teeth against his neck and reach down around his waist to play with his cute, fluffy bunny tail. You twirl the fur around your fingers as you hum, the vibrations from your teeth travelling directly to Jungkook’s neck. And then you go for the kill. You dig in your nails and scratch, scratch, scratch as you bite down harder.

Jungkook malfunctions.

His body stops, going tense, every muscle taut and straining, trembling almost imperceptibly. You feel him release inside you, hot thick spurts of seed that fill you to the brim; that squash and spill out of you as he fucks you. His tremors become a violent shake, an internal quake that starts in his lower back and travels up through his arms. They clamp around you like tempered steel. The shuddering throws off his thrusts and ruins his rhythm until he can’t maintain it anymore. Jungkook convulses erratically, his cock dancing inside you in very interesting ways. The tremors travel down his legs, reaching his knees and making them weak.

“Gghh—haaah!” He cries out, half way between a groan and a yelp. As he falls backwards to the bed, he takes you with him.

Jungkook lays under you, quivering, his eyes closed and nose twitching. Long, floppy ears flutter against your face as he whimpers softly. You can feel his fingers flexing, twitching spontaneously against your back as his hold on you loosens. You hold your weight in your forearms so as not to crush him in his vulnerable state. You lean over him, not knowing what to do. Jungkook just lays there, unmoving, nothing but involuntarily spasms. Did you break him?

“Bun?” you ask quietly, but he’s unresponsive, “Kookie? Jungkook?” You push yourself up into a sitting position as best you can with your legs trapped under him. His arms fall limply to his sides.

You gasp when you realise he’s still hard inside of you.

Your eyes dart around. You bite your lip. Is this normal? Maybe you should have researched rabbit hybrid heats before you shared Jungkook’s. But just as you consider moving, his eyes slowly blink open until he’s looking at you from under heavy lids. Slowly he lifts his hands to skim over your thighs, and you shudder. Even after everything his hands feel incredible against your skin; you never want him to stop touching you.

Jungkook’s strength returns to him, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips to hold you tightly. And then he’s rolling his hips, thrusting into you with renewed determination. Slowly at first, picking up speed, picking up force until he’s pounding up into your pussy at a pace so punishing he’s lifting you off the bed. You can feel how sticky, messy and wet your cunt is; can hear it over the heavy breathing in the room. You lean forward, placing your hands on his chest to steady yourself.

“Please Jungkookie, I need to cum. I need it. I need you,” you sob, nails digging into his chest as pleasure wracks through you.

His face doesn’t change, but his soft, kiss-swollen lips part slightly as he pants in effort. You bite your bottom lip as you watch him, your orgasm building, liquid heat accumulating in your core once again. Your fingers, slippery with sweat, catch on his nipple when you try to readjust your grip. Jungkook whines so you do it again experimentally, digging a nail into his nipple until his hips falter. You drag it across the stiff peak, catching on it and pulling hard. His breath comes in pants as his thrusts become more forceful, more erratic. It’s only seconds before heat explodes out around you, white noise ringing in your head as you come hard and fast. You bend forward, your mouth latching onto his nipple, the sudden touch of teeth pushing Jungkook over the edge. He releases into you again, so forcefully it pushes the previous offering out of your over-stuffed cunt. Cum seeps out around the base of his throbbing cock.

You lick and kiss the abused nipple as an apology. And as if by some miracle, Jungkook finally softens and slips out of you.

“Holy shit,” you sigh, resting your cheek against his chest, a finger idly wandering around the spit-slicked, peaked flesh. Jungkook giggles somewhat hysterically.

He flips you onto your back, pulling a pillow from the nest wall and pushing it under your hips to raise them. Noticing your shuddering, Jungkook grabs a blanket and throws it over you. It’s a sweet gesture, but you’re not shivering because you’re cold. You’re shivering because he just fucked your brains out and you feel like a human water balloon while this full of cum. He curls up beside you, throwing an arm over your chest and reaching up to stroke your hair. His nose finds your ear to nuzzle. He hums happily throughout your afterglow, caressing your hair, nosing your jaw, chin, cheek and temple to scent you. Gentle, reassuring words of you’re so good and such a good mama for my kits filter through your ears.

And in the comfort of his arms, utterly exhausted, you drift off to sleep.

_ _ _

You slowly wake from your doze when you feel something cold and damp on your legs. You sit yourself up with a shake of your head, trying to clear it. Jungkook kneels between your legs in his pajama bottoms, wiping you down with a damp cloth.

“Sorry, didn’t want to wake you,” he says, smiling shyly and wrinkling his nose.

“It’s’kay,” you groan, sitting up. Everywhere aches. “How are you feeling?” you ask.

“Better. There may be another wave later, but the worst should be over.” Jungkook looks around the room awkwardly. “I should—I mean…” he trails off, playing with his ears. “I said some things. I should explain myself.”

“Don’t worry, I know it was just your heat talking,” you reassure him with a smile, even if part of you wished he meant it. Jungkook stares at you, eyes large and round, mouth falling open into a perfect ‘o’.

He nods. “Yeah, I—I just didn’t want to make you uncomfortable,” Bun mumbles, nibbling his bottom lip. He resumes the process of cleaning you and avoids your eyes.

“You didn’t. I don’t know if you noticed, but I played along.” You’re not sure what possesses you to say it, but you immediately regret it when his hand stills.

“I noticed,” Jungkook says with a glance at you, his neck flushing red. He coughs awkwardly before resuming his cleaning. “I made food; just a simple omelette,” he diverts, reaching out of the nest to grab the plate. A forkful of omelette is extended to you, to feed you. You smile fondly at him as you gladly accept the offering. You try not to read too much into it; he’s just taking care of you because it’s his heat and you’re his partner right now. You’re in his nest, too, and in his nest, it’s his instinct to take care of you.

You carefully watch his face, entranced by his focus. Entranced by how much care he takes in everything he does. Jungkook looks up and catches you staring. You burst into laughter, as does he.

“Why are you staring at me?” He chuckles, feeding you more omelette.

“You’re very handsome,” you tease easily. “I’d be an idiot not to.” Jungkook scoffs and you grab his face, looking at him seriously. “You’re the most handsome person I’ve ever seen.”

“Even with the ears?” he asks derisively.

“Especially with the ears.” You smile, reaching up to scratch one. His leg twitches and kicks out. Jungkook grabs your wrist, pulling it away from his ear with a giggle.

“Stop it!” He’s smiling, eyes full of stars again and you lean forward to kiss him softly. He’s hesitant at first, but soon gets lost in it. “Is this still okay?” Jungkook whispers against your lips, pecking you tenderly.

“Jungkook, I—” You swallow. “I didn’t do this just because it was your heat. I helped you because—because I want you. I’ve wanted you for a while, I was just scared to admit it. Scared I’d be taking advantage of you.” Your heart is pounding; you’re pretty sure Jungkook can hear it, but the look on his face is nothing but shock, eyes wide as he stares at you.

“Really?” he asks when he finally finds his voice. “It wasn’t just—you took me in when you found me in the rain, looked after me. You’ve looked after me ever since. Are you saying this wasn’t just you taking care of me again?” His voice is quiet, unsure.

You shake your head, running your fingers through his hair. “No, not at all. You’re so— you’ve been so…” You mull the words over. “Yes you’re handsome and the sex was good—” Jungkook quirks an eyebrow, then pouts. “GREAT!” you correct, and Jungkook snorts and ducks his head. “But I also want you. I want you singing in the kitchen in the morning, dancing in it at night as you make dinner. I want to keep arguing with you about what we watch on TV. I really love coming home to you at the end of a long work day so I can argue with you about what to watch on TV.” You laugh. “I want to take care of you, like you take care of me. I want to know about you, your past, where you’re from. I want your good days and your bad. I want to talk about your day, I want to talk about the future—” You stop and lick your lips, moving your hands to cup his face. “I just wanna talk because I like the sound of your voice.”

Jungkook smiles wide, leaning in to kiss you before pulling back and leaning his forehead against yours. “Then I think I should tell you everything,” he sighs.

You pull back slightly, your thumbs coming to caress his soft cheeks and you lean in to kiss him again. “If you’re ready, I’m listening,” you whisper against his lips.

“You’re going to think I’m crazy,” he says, staring deep into your eyes.

“Crazier than someone who finds a stray hybrid on the street and adopts it?” you ask with a nudge. Jungkook chuckles giddily. “Maybe we’re the right kind of crazy for each other?” Something about the question makes him sober and he takes a deep, shuddering breath before he starts talking.

“I live in one of the villages on the outskirts of the city, almost everyone there is a rabbit-hybrid. A few other hybrids, a few mundanes, but not many,” Jungkook explains, shuffling so he can pull your back to his bare chest and wrap his arms around your waist. He rests his chin on your shoulder and continues. “Everyone my age, everyone I grew up with - they’re settling down, thinking about starting families if they haven’t already...” he trails off.

“Everyone? You seem awfully young to be worried about something like that.”

You feel him shrug, burying his face in the crook of your neck to hide a blush you can’t even see. “We like to mate early.” Something warm and dangerous blooms in your chest. “Anyway, everyone was finding their mate; all my friends had either found one or found someone they were planning to mate with and I couldn’t—there was no one I… I couldn’t find—” Jungkook stutters, breath coming out in little gasps against your shoulder. You turn in his hold, finding him staring at you, eyes wide. You lift a hand to gently thumb the soft fur of his long, floppy ear. “I’d shared a couple of my heats with others, but other than that I was alone. I was watching all my friends fall in love and be happy and I wanted that more than anything. But I couldn’t find anyone. I even spent my heat before this one alone. There was no one in my village I wanted to spend it with.”

“I’m sorry you felt so alone,” you say, wrapping your arms around him and hugging him tightly.

“I wished upon a shooting star.” Jungkook ducks his head, hiding his eyes from you. “I wanted to find my mate. I didn’t want to be alone anymore.”

“What?” you ask, pulling back to look at him. He glances up at you, hiding behind his ears.

“I told you I’d sound crazy.” Jungkook smiles coyly. “I was sitting on a hilltop near my village. I liked sitting out there at night; it’s far enough away from the city that you can see more stars. I liked to imagine what it would be like to sit out there with my mate someday. Then there was a bright streak across the sky, and I closed my eyes and wished—wished I was with my mate. I must have fallen asleep after that, because the next thing I knew I was waking up in my rabbit form, cold and wet and under a bush. I ran out of it and there you were.” Jungkook lifts his head to look at you now, eyes sparkling as they dance around your face, trying to interpret your reaction. But all you feel is shock.

“How did you get there?” you ask, confused.

“I have no idea, I just woke up and found myself unable to change back.” He shrugs, arms tightening around you.

“So you were stuck in your rabbit form?”

Jungkook nods in confirmation. “At first. The first few weeks. I didn’t know what was wrong, and when you picked me up I froze; it’s rabbit instinct. I hoped I could run later, but then I realised it was for real - you were caring for me. I thought, maybe—” Jungkook swallows, licking his lips, a large, warm hand reaching up to cup your cheek. “Maybe my wish had been granted. The longer I stayed, the more scared I became that you’d make me leave if you knew I could transform back. I only did it once to contact my family, to let my brothers know I was okay. The storm really did scare me back in my sleep,though, and I thought you were going to send me away. When you let me stay—” Jungkook leans forward and brushes his lips against yours. “I was so happy. So, so happy.” He lets out a shaky breath.

“Wow,” you whisper, turning back around to melt into his embrace.

“Are you mad? Do you think I’m crazy?” Bun asks, a waver in his voice as he presses his lips to your shoulder.

“I—I don’t know. I’m conflicted,” you answer honestly. His arms tighten around your middle as he tries to keep his breathing steady.

“About?” It’s a whisper, his lips grazing your skin like he’s too scared to ask. Too scared to hear the answer.

“I know I should be mad that you chose to stay here when you could have left at any time. I mean, you basically lied to me. But I can also understand why you did it.” You cover his arms with yours. “You were desperately lonely, and something strange happened. You thought this—this miracle happened. You’d be crazy not to take advantage of it.” You turn in his hold, delicately brushing his hair out of his face. “It’s kind of endearing to find out the hybrid I’ve grown so fond of is actually a big, sappy romantic.” Jungkook buries his nose in the nape of your neck and if the sigh he lets out sounds more like a sob of relief, you don’t mention it. “You really think I could be your mate?” you ask, sliding your hand along his toned forearm and entwining your fingers with his.

“I think I made that wish on the hilltop and woke to find someone who is kind, intelligent, beautiful and funny.” You hear the smile in his voice as his lips make their way across your shoulder. “I love how you wear sweaters three sizes too big. Cry at horror movies. Smile when you think I’m not looking.” Jungkook punctuates each point with a kiss. “I keep imagining you in my clothes. I love how you sing and dance when you’re doing chores.”

“You like my singing?” you laugh. You’ve never been accused of being a good singer, and when you look over your shoulder at him, you realise you’re still not.

“I love your enthusiasm when you sing and dance,” Jungkook states diplomatically, eyes filled with mischief. He dips his head to kiss your shoulder.

“You have a beautiful enough voice for both of us,” you say with a smile, slumping so you’re looking up at him and he’s looking down at you.

“I could have met a million different people in the city, but out of everyone, I meet you. Someone I want to make my mate,” he says cautiously, and you squeeze his hand. “You’ll let me stay?”

“You can stay for as long as you like,” you whisper softly, running your fingers over his.

“What if I never want to leave?” Jungkook teases with a smile, and you smile back up at him.

“Then I guess you should make yourself at home,” you say softly. “Take me to that hilltop one night?”

Jungkook leans down and kisses you; a kiss that tastes like love and feels like a promise. “Try and stop me,” he whispers, smiling.

And making himself at home is exactly what he did.

#Jungkook #Jeon Jungkook #Jungkook Fluff #Jungkook Smut #Hybrid!Jungkook #Jungkook x You #Jungkook x Reader #Bunny!Jungkook #Jungkook Fic #BTS #BTS Fic #Jungkook in Heat #Marginal Madness #MM Summer Nights #Summer Nights #Commission

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trash-writings · 3 years

Text

See You Then

Nanami x Fem!Reader x Aizawa

Another commission. If you're interested in commissioning me, send me a message!

Summary: Your boyfriends surprise you for your birthday. (this is not set in either jjk or bnha, just some fun smut).

Warnings: Fem!Reader, nipple play, fingering, oral (f. and m. receiving), vaginal sex, anal sex, double penetration, one (1) spank to the ass, daddy (aizawa) and sir (nanami) kink, pet names used: bunny, baby, and brat (let me know if I missed any!!)

Word count: 3k

Something was off. You knew there was just something not completely right whenever you got home, but you are still struggling to place it. It’s like an itch that you can’t scratch, constant irritation and burning while you desperately try to dig your nails into it to no avail. You set your bag down, letting it rest on the recliner adjacent to your couch.

Whatever it is, you’re sure it’s probably nothing serious. Nothing looks like your apartment had been broken into or anything stolen. Shaking your head to clear any intrusive thoughts, you open your bedroom door and find a large black gift box laid across your bed. It has a bright red ribbon wrapped around it, the stark contrast between the colors almost comically sinful. The ribbon is silky to the touch, and you almost don’t want to open it since it’s wrapped so perfectly.

Inside the box, a dark blue lingerie set with a matching blindfold sits perfectly laid out with a white rose on top. You can’t help but giggle. Whether it’s with excitement or at the absurdity of the grand way this has been placed, you’re not sure. A small note is tucked between the rose and blindfold. Picking it up, you open it to find it’s from Aizawa and Nanami.

We’ll be home at 8. See you then, love.

Checking your phone, you see you have just over two hours before they’ll be here. Your feeling was right, something is definitely up here. With your time, you decide a quick shower and time to get ready is needed, even indulging in a new sugar scrub you hadn’t had time to try out in the last few days. You had ordered a box of new self-care products since your birthday is… well, tomorrow.

This is the first year you’ve ever had someone, let alone two someones, surprise you with something so intimate. Your cheeks are starting to hurt from the permanent grin on your cheeks since opening the box, so you try and relax while applying some moisturizer after your shower.

As you slip on the lace lingerie, you can’t help but stand in front of the mirror for an extra moment or two, enjoying the way the fabric hugs your body as if it were crafted just for you. You slip on a black robe over the revealing material and tie the sash tightly to feel secure.

The urge to text one or both of them is strong, even checking if you have any messages from them every few minutes. Only an hour left before they’re home. You wish they had given you at least a little more instruction. Are you supposed to put the blindfold on now and sit with your thoughts for an hour? Should you stay in your room or go sit on the couch to wait?

Even now, you’re lost in all these uncertainties about what you should or shouldn’t be doing. Yet, a part of you knows it doesn’t matter. Both of them are happy to serve you, always following your lead and making you their priority. Whatever you choose to do before the time given, and as long as you slip on the blindfold, you know it’ll be worth the waiting and one hell of a surprise.

Deciding the bed is the best place to wait, you untie the rope, letting it hang open while you sit at the bottom of the bed, legs hanging off the edge. The blindfold reminds you of Nanami’s friend, whose name you can’t quite place at the moment. It feels soft against your skin, and not too tight which you had worried about. It doesn’t completely blackout everything in the room, you notice as you look around. It does just enough to leave some mystery behind the shadows you can just barely make out.

The clicking of the lock from your front door makes you turn your head towards your bedroom door. Your stomach turns with excitement, and every hair on your arms seems to be standing at attention as goosebumps spread. Quiet shuffling, and words you can’t quite make out make it harder to stay still.

As the door to your room swings open, you dig your fingers into the edge of the bed, trying your best not to lift the mask and jump on the two figures you can make out through the blindfold.

“Kento, would you look at that,” Aizawa’s voice makes you smile. “Our girl is so good for us.”

“She really is,” Nanami starts to move from your line of sight. You feel the bed dip, and his slender fingers caress your shoulders. You melt back against him and whimper. “Happy birthday sweetheart,” he kisses the base of your neck.

Part of you wants to correct that it’s not technically your birthday until tomorrow, but the other part is screaming at you to shut up and just be good. You’ll let that part win tonight.

Another set of hands caress your thighs, rougher than Nanami’s but thicker fingers. Aizawa’s hands always make your body react in some way as if they have magnets inside forcing your body to pull towards him. His thumb and fingers squeeze your skin, making you gasp as they move up your thighs.

“Since you’re being so good, we thought you’d like some extra attention tonight,” Aizawa tells you, his breath dangerously close to your core.

If you could squirm, you would. But with Nanami behind you and massaging your shoulders and Aizawa between your thighs, you know there’s no way you’d be able to move without them holding you still. They’re not touching you in any way that’s extraordinary, but every fluid motion of their fingers on your skin makes your body heat rise and your panties wet.

“What do you think Shouta, is she ready now?” Nanami asks from behind you.

Something about the way they don’t directly address you, even while touching you so sensually, is driving you nuts. You want to beg them to fuck you now, but something else deep inside of you is telling you to wait. They must have something planned, the way they are working together so seamlessly to work you up with such little attention proves that.

“I think she isn’t quite warmed up, what do you think?” Aizawa’s fingers softly drag over the lace of the lingerie covering your clit. You moan, pushing your hips forward and he laughs. “I think she wants something.”

“Go on, tell us what you want baby girl.” Nanami coos in your ear, while his hands slide down your chest and begin massaging your breasts.

“Want you both,” you moan as his thumbs flick over your nipples.

“That’s not very specific, sweetheart. Tell daddy what you want him to do.” Aizawa presses his fingers harder against your clit and you gasp. “How can we know what you want unless you tell us?”

“Daddy,” you whimper as he presses harder on your clit. “Want you to eat me out.”

He chuckles, his breath warm against your throbbing core. Pulling your panties to the side his warm tongue licks up your folds once, stopping and swirling around your clit. You let out a loud cry, excited to finally have what you wanted so desperately between your thighs.

“What about me baby? Tell me what you want too,” Nanami cooks between soft kisses on your neck.

His fingers focus on pinching your nipples and tugging lightly. Between this and Aizawa’s tongue, you’re having trouble thinking straight, let alone trying to come up with something to tell Nanami.

“You, Sir.” You gasp out and whine when he pinches your nipples harder.

“That’s not a good answer, brat.”

“Kiss me!” You answer quickly, your words breathy and desperate.

Aizawa’s tongue teases around your entrance, his hands pulling your ass nearly off the bed while he buries your face between your thighs. Nanami doesn’t waste any time, taking full advantage of you now laying against his chest. He tilts your head up, his lips pressing to yours and moving roughly. You part your lips, letting his tongue slip into your mouth as one hand comes up to wrap around your throat.

You moan against his mouth as Aizawa pushes two fingers inside of you, scissoring them to stretch your hole. You buck your hips once and he holds you down, sucking hard at your clit. You pull away from Nanami’s kiss, breathless and panting.

“C-close,” you moan out before Nanami shoves his tongue in your mouth again.

His free hand pulling your lace bra down and exposing them to him. Releasing your neck and lips he lays you across his lap. You hear the unbuckling of his pants, then your head is turned by his hand and your lips are met with the soft skin of the head of his cock and a wet drop of precum.

“No cumming until we tell you, sweetheart,” you hear Aizawa tell you as Nanami’s cock pushes in your mouth.

He groans as your tongue swirls around the head. Aizawa’s fingers pull out of your cunt, and you whine, making Nanami groan louder. He holds your head guiding you to suck him off while you feel Aizawa’s cock prodding at your wet entrance.

“Better get my cock nice and wet, baby.” Nanami says in a deep tone. “that way it’s nice and easy to stretch your tight little asshole.”

You clench around Aizawa’s cock as he pushes inside, the thought of finally being filled in both holes making it harder for you to contain the orgasm that’s threatening to ravish your body. It’s overwhelming already, and the blindfold is starting to slip up off your eyes and onto your forehead. You can barely make out the dark blue shirt Nanami is wearing as the fabric pushes against your nose and you choke on his cock.

“Fuck, you take my cock so well,” he groans.

“She’s so perfect,” Aizawa comments while thrusting inside of you roughly and making you whimper. “Our perfect little bunny.”

It’s too much to hold back now, you cum around Aizawa’s cock without permission. Your toes curl and your eyes water. Tear stains on the blindfold only grow while Nanami fucks your mouth through your orgasm. Aizawa doesn’t stop either, his rough pace only picking up and making you shake.

“Bad girl,” he coos. “Cumming around my cock without asking. Who gave you permission?”

Nanami pulls his cock out of your mouth and slides the blindfold off your eyes. You look up, his normally stern face softer and smiling at you while he strokes your head and cheek.

“Are you ready?” He asks you softly, and Aizawa slows down until he’s stilling inside of you. “You have to tell us if you are.”

“Don’t feel pressured either, baby. We only want to make you feel good.” Aizawa tells you, his hand stroking your thigh softly.

“Just tell me what position you need me in,” you joke looking at them both.

Aizawa pulls out of you and laughs as you pout. “Do you want us to position you or not?”

“Brat,” Nanami teases while standing you up at the end of the bed before sitting where you had once been. “You have to tell us when to stop or slow down, okay bunny?” He kisses your back gently.

“Yes, sir.”

“Good girl,” Aizawa kisses your lips softly while backing you up between Nanami’s thighs.

Nanami sucks on his middle and forefingers before slowly pumping them into your asshole. You whine and squeeze Aizawa’s arms while he holds you still. He spreads his fingers, prepping you for his cock while you stroke Aizawa’s cock in front of you.

“Sir, please,” you moan.

He pulls his fingers out, pulling you down by your hips and sinking you down on his cock. The stretch burns before feeling unbelievable as you roll your hips. He lets you set the pace at first, holding your hips while you ride him.

“You love his cock, don’t you baby?” Aizawa coos, kissing your foreword and reaching down between your thighs to toy with your clit. “Of course, you do. You’re soaking wet.”

“W-want you too,” you rasp as Nanami begins to thrust up into you. “Please daddy!”

“I love watching you beg for more,” he smiles.

Nanami leans you back against him, giving Aizawa access to your cunt while he holds you still. Aizawa pressing inside of you is nearly enough to make you cum again, nearly. You can’t help but close your eyes and let out a lewd sound as you’re filled completely. They alternate thrusting inside of you, their pacing almost too perfect and leaving you never wanting.

Nanami’s grip on your hips is tight, and you can’t help but imagine the pretty purple bruises that’ll grace your skin in the morning, if not a few hours from now. Aizawa sucks on your nipple, the other being assaulted by his strong fingers pinching and massaging.

Each thrust of their cocks is intense, Aizawa’s hitting your cervix, and Nanami incredibly deep in your ass is overwhelming.

No, it’s ethereal.

A sharp smack to your ass from Nanami’s hand makes you yelp, and he laughs. You feel yourself reaching your second orgasm, the threads threatening to snap inside of you. The way their cocks throb inside of you makes you aware that they are incredibly close too. If you cum, they might too.

Aizawa releasing your nipple and rubbing circles against your clit sends you over, you cum crying out a slur of curse words and words you can’t quite make out. They both stop inside of you, leaving you completely full as you clench around their cocks.

“Fuck, fuck,” Nanami curses before releasing inside of you, cum dripping out of your ass and around his cock.

You have no time to breathe, Aizawa pounding inside of you a few times before he cums as well. He’s rougher, fucking you through his orgasm and leaving you breathless. They hold you still, everyone breathing slowly and recovering.

Aizawa pulls out first, kissing your forehead and disappearing to your bathroom. Nanami lifts you up gently, sitting you down on the bed and ribbing your arm to soothe you.

“You did so well, bunny. We’re so proud of you.” He kisses the back of your shoulders, continuing to rub your shoulder and arm.

Aizawa bends down in front of you, smiling at you. “Feeling okay, sweetheart?”

You nod, tired and not wanting to use the energy to speak just yet.

“Can I clean you up?” He holds up a damp washcloth and you nod again.

He gently lifts your leg up and wipes you clean while softly rubbing your leg. He doesn’t take too long, letting you recover and relax on the bed. He sits beside you, pulling your head onto his lap so he can comfort you along with Nanami before you’re ready to move. Your body is tired, but your mind is still buzzing; making it easier for you to snap back quickly.

“Okay, I’m good now.” You tell them both giggling. “That was amazing,” you laugh louder.

They both laugh, getting off the bed. Nanami leaves the room, heading towards the kitchen and you raise an eyebrow to Aizawa.

“Kento is going to go start a late dinner. I’m going to treat you to a nice bath first, though.” He Pulls you up by your hands and helps you to the bathroom.

You hadn’t noticed the water running before, but you see the tub is nearly full when you get inside. Aizawa helps you out of the lingerie set, tossing it into a laundry basket before setting you in the hot water. He gets in behind you, letting you lay against his chest while he holds you.

“What is Kento making?” You ask with a giggle.

“Oh, not interested in my bath?” He teases and you smack his arm. “I think he’s making some pasta you like; I can’t remember if I’m honest. I just picked out the cake.”

“There’s a cake?!” You sit up, turning to look at him.

“Of course, there’s a cake! It’s your damn birthday, brat.” He kisses your nose, and your smile laying back on him.

As you relax you begin to smell the food from the kitchen wafting into the bathroom. Your stomach growls, and Aizawa laughs.

“Let’s get out now then,” he helps you out and dries you off before leaving you to get dressed.

He leaves your bedroom while you’re dressing, helping Nanami in the kitchen. As you peer out the bedroom into your kitchen beyond the living room, you can’t help but wonder how you got so lucky to not only have one but two perfect boyfriends.

“----?” Nanami calls your name, eyes bright and a smile on his face. “Dinner is ready.”

“Get in here, brat,” Aizawa adds while setting the table.

You giggle skipping to the dining table to join them.

#jjk smut #bnha smut #nanami kento smut #aizawa shouta smut

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peachyteabuck · 4 years

Text

good behavior

summary: bucky has very strict rules for his little, doll. not only does this involve a rigid structure of punishments, but also an occasional, decadent reward.

takes place in the same universe as old school (make me drool) but it is not required reading to understand this fic.

pairing: bucky barnes x little!ofc

words: 2058

trigger warnings: heavy ddlg, heavy d/s dynamics

notes: this was done for @nsfwsebbie‘s birthday! she’s kind enough to write birthday fics for all us mutuals (including me!) and deserves something in return. i hope your next trip around the sun is even more excellent than the last!

ask box / masterlist / commission info / ko-fi

Doll has a pretty pink paci in her mouth, a matching pink dress adorning her body with her hair folded into perfect milkmaid braids with bows the same pink as the rest of her outfit holding them in place. Normally she’s not as dressed up – Daddy prefers her in a simple onesie with her hair in two little buns high up on your head – but today is Bunny’s birthday party, and Auntie Nat had told all of her friends (including Daddy) that she would be taking pictures of all of them to immortalize the event, and she expected all of the littles to be dressed appropriately.

So Doll, clad in clothes she’s not used to, sits in the playroom with the other littles as they laugh and play away all the cake and ice cream and juice their caregivers had allowed them to consume throughout the long day.

Auntie Nat’s house is huge – what her and Bunny called a “playroom” acting as a giant space where the caregivers could watch their littles play with all of Bunny’s toys – an already impressive pile of stuffies and puzzles and whatever else she’d wanted only added to by the presents the other caregivers had bought her to celebrate her special day.

Doll’s Daddy’s house is about the same size, but there the playroom is a much smaller space where Doll is allowed to be alone, a single rocking chair there for when her Daddy needs to keep watch or wants to read her a story.

Auntie Nat also had a large pool they all had swam in (though Doll preferred to stay at her Daddy’s side, napping in the sun), and patio big enough for several large tables where they all ate and watched Bunny open her presents.

Now, though, everyone was inside, the littles playing on the ground while their Daddies and Mommies sat chatting on the large sofa in the playroom, one that was so large it fit against two walls instead of just one.

As the air cooled outside while the sun began to sink out of sight, Doll’s tummy begins to turn inside her as the loudness of the other littles ceases to wane.

She crawls over to where her Daddy is on the center of the couch, pulling on one of his pantlegs lightly to get his attention.

It works, the much larger man stopping mid-sentence to look down at her – his metal arm holding a half-drunk liquid only the adults are allowed to drink while the other rests at the back of the couch.

“You wanna go home, Doll?” he asks, voice soft and low.

Her Daddy pulls the paci from her mouth with his flesh hand, allowing her to speak. Doll nods, picking at the soft lace trim of her party dress. “Y-yes, Daddy.”

Her Daddy gives her a small smile, leaning down so he can pet her head (carefully, though, as to not mess up her hair) and give her forehead a small kiss. “Yeah, I know you wanna go home. Give me a few more minutes with Daddy’s friends and we can go, alright?”

She pulls her lips into a small, tight frown but doesn’t protest – something Daddy notices immediately.

“Do you want to stay here at my feet until we go, Doll?” he asks. He knows what he’s asking her is true – she’s always been awkward in social situations, never as outgoing as Princess or Peter. Even Bunny, though quiet, was able to be around the other littles for longer than Doll is (to be fair, it is Bunny’s birthday party, and her small body has consumed a simply incredibly amount of sugar throughout her special day – but still, Doll is nearly always the first to request to be brought home).

Doll chews on her bottom lip before replying. “Yes, Daddy.”

“She’s a sweet little thing, Bucky” she hears Uncle Stevie saying above her. “Trained her quite well.”

The others on the couch laugh, thinking of all the times the man’s Princess had pulled such bratty behavior she had to be spanked or reprimanded in one way or another in front of the other littles.

Despite the loaded compliment, Doll’s Daddy smiles down at her as she sits between his legs – protecting herself from the rest of the room. “Yeah, she’s my special little angel.”

He wraps the conversation up with ease, thanking Auntie Nat and giving Bunny one more “happy birthday” before carrying Doll to the car and strapping her into the car seat.

Unlike the rest of the caregivers, her Daddy plays no music as he drives home, knowing Doll prefers the silence after a long day of thunderous roar of all the littles together.

The pair arrive home without incident, with Daddy carrying Doll inside and allowing her time alone in her playroom to cool down from the experiences of the day. Her paci and shoes were removed with ease, her Daddy taking them away as he walked out of the room to wherever it is he felt he needed to be.

Her Daddy returns a few minutes later, leaning down with both arms behind his back.

“You were such a good girl,” Daddy tells her, now sitting cross legged across from her on the floor.

It’s rare for her to see her Daddy in such a context – though she doesn’t remember much of it, when she first arrived she was quite firey and refused to be broken. It took all of her Daddy’s might (and much advice from the other caregivers, along with time with the other littles so he could remember why he so badly wanted one of his own) not to give up.

And, of course, it was worth it. All of the nights in the basement and strict enforcement of his many rules molded Doll into the beautiful, fragile apple of his eye that she is today.

Doll says nothing, watching her Daddy with wide eyes as he – for the first time in recent memory – lowers himself to her level.

He clears his throat before speaking, his arms still behind his back. “I know it’s been a rough day for you, and I’m very proud of you, not just because you were so good for so long, but that you told me when you wanted to go home so politely…”

He coughs once more, trying to clear the awkwardness in his own voice. It’s certainly hard for him to be, in a sense, vulnerable; much easier to bring down his hand when Doll needs reminding of the rules than offering her something for remembering. Still, he does his best, and Doll’s wide wondering eyes urge him to continue.

“So I bought this for you,” he says, bringing his arms from behind his back to reveal a soft, plush arctic baby seal with an embroidered eyes, nose, and mouth (Doll doesn’t like the hardened facial features – always telling her Daddy they make the friends harder to cuddle). Its “fur” is a light, hazy blue – nearly white unless one has the sharp eye Doll does. Upon seeing the heinously cute creature, Doll gives a sharp inhale of excitement, whole body tensing as her eyeline locks on the present in her Daddy’s hands.

“I picked this up for you,” he says as he gives it to her, giving Doll a nod, permission to grab at the gift. “When we went to the aquarium with Natasha and Bunny. I saw you eyeing it when we passed the gift shop. Thought you’d like it.”

Even though she wasn’t asked a question, and therefore is not allowed to respond, Doll’s wide smile and how she’s got the stuffie in a tight hug tell her Daddy all he needs to know.

He watches her for a moment, enjoying her sheer delight while she babbles nonsensically while holding the animal’s soft face close to hers. Occasionally she leaves a small kiss somewhere, nimble fingers exploring the two-toned fur.

Eventually he becomes bored just watching her, though, so her Daddy moves closer to her, hand on her bare knee as she continues to play.

“I’ve got another reward for you, Doll,” he whispers in her ear, heat swirling in his stomach as he notices her body reacting to his. “Do you want to know what it is?”

“Y-yes, Daddy,” Doll squeaks out, gnawing on her bottom lip as she watches him loom closer to her.

“I’ll give it to you, Doll,” he says – voice low in his chest. “As long as you keep holding on to your new stuffie. You got that?”

She nods, voice barely above a murmur as her Daddy pushes her onto the carpeted ground. “Yes Daddy!”

He smiles as he pushes her frilly dress to her stomach, adjusting her legs so that her socked feet are planted on his thigh as he undoes the button on his slacks. “Good girl,” he tells her as one hand moves down to her center (Bunny’s birthday party is a special enough event to necessitate big girl panties). He rubs her, reveling in her small, breathy moans as his cock becomes harder against his dress shirt. “Now I need you to be quiet for me, so I’m gonna give you that nice paci you like.”

Doll’s always accepting of her Daddy’s stipulations for their play time together, welcoming the expensive paci he gifted her for her last birthday into her mouth when he pulls it from his back pocket.

He coos more praise towards her as he pushes a finger into her, feeling how wet, how desperate she is for him.

“You ready for me, Doll?” he asks, swallowing the spit that gathers on his tongue as he watches Doll with a sniper’s eye. She nods, eyes screwed shut, hands clutching the stuffie’s fur. He smiles ear to ear as she does so. “Good.”

The anticipation burns at his skin as he aligns himself with her dripping core, easily bottoming out before giving her a few seconds to adjust to his impressive cock.

That’s all Doll gets, though, before her Daddy takes what he wants from – fucking into her pussy as she grips the stuffie with all her might, her loud moans muffled by the paci’s large, pink guard with Daddy’s Little Doll spelled out with circle, black-and-white lettered beads.

“That feel good, Doll?” he coos, arms bracketing her under his much large form. “You like it when Daddy makes you feel good?”

Doll’s eyes roll to the back of her head, jaw struggling to stay closed as she loses herself to the pleasure.

Her Daddy just laughs. “Oh, of course you do. Your Daddy’s little Doll, and Daddy always takes care of her toys.”

One of his hands moves down to the ever most sensitive part of her, his callous flesh thumb making tight circles as her pussy tightens around his cock.

It’s a delicious feeling, one that makes her Daddy moan deep in his chest. “Fuck, do it,” he tells her, rubbing her even faster. “C’mon, make Daddy proud.”

Just as Doll always does, she follows her Daddy’s instructions; obeys his word to the letter, and reaches her peak while her Daddy chases his.

His groans can barely be heard over her high-pitched whines now, caught in her throat but filling the room nonetheless, tears threatening to fall from the corners of her eyes and whole body tense as her Daddy continues to fuck in and out of her.

It doesn’t take long before he knows – before he pulls out to come on her soft stomach, narrowly avoiding the expensive faux fur as he paints her skin with streaks of thick white.

“Fuck-“ he hisses, jaw going slack with his whole body being held in the hair only by his hands planted flat on the ground on either side of Doll’s head. “Fuck you’re my best little girl.”

She looks up at him with eyes hopeful but tired, ready to fall asleep right then and there as she pants through her nose.

“Yes,” her Daddy assures her, picking her up to bring her into the bathroom so he can clean her up. “Yes, you always are and always will be my perfect little Doll.”

With that she falls sleep in his arms, allowing him to manipulate her into the bath as he washes away everything the day had brought upon her.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x little!reader #lukis writes stuff #old school (make me drool)#little!reader

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bellemorte180 · 3 years

Text

PLOT BUNNY

Okay, hear me out on this.

Caroline is a small town girl who has always been the top at everything. She had a high IQ and she graduated high school at a very early age (like 15 or something). She gets a full ride to some Ivy League school, leaves Mystic Falls and is expected to be this highly successful woman; at the top of some scientific field. On the side, as a hobby she dances. At first she used it as a fun way to stay in shape but slowly realized that she loved it. She did theater at her college, always trying out for leads-despite still being a teenager at the time.

When she hits like 19 or 20, she realizes that following the path that everyone set out for her because of her intelligence just didn’t feel right for her. So, after getting her masters or PHD or something, she tells everyone that she is taking a gap year to go back packing through Europe.

Then she vanishes.

She ends up in Paris, working as a burlesque dancer and for the first time, she feels alive. She feels free and happy being on stage, in the make-up and dancing. Its everything no body wanted for her but everything she felt she needed to do. Backstage she is always reading some book in some foreign language or some scientific study. The girls around her all know that she is a genius but they treat her just the same. Nicknaming her ‘Duke’ or ‘Harvard’ depending on the university she had gone too. I see Bonnie, Katherine, Elena and others being her friends from the club.

On the side, she would model for painters and worked as their muse. She is friends with this painter, Enzo St. John. He is having this on again off again relationship with strait laced Lucian Castle. Enzo is a talented artist and likes to paint the burlesque girls, despite being very gay.

One day, Caroline is modeling for him, naked. He is doing a naked portrait of her but is paying her well for it. At this point, Caroline finds it very freeing and it is not the first time she has posed naked for something. Enter Klaus, a friend of Enzo’s boyfriend. He is there to commission a painting of him and his siblings for his mother’s birthday (he would paint it himself but his parents never approved of his artwork).

Klaus meets Caroline for the first time when she is completely naked.

At first Klaus finds her beautiful, obviously, but doesn’t think she is more than a pretty face when Enzo introduces her as the lead at the local burlesque club. However, Enzo steps out for something, Klaus gets a call and is speaking to someone about a business action in rapid Bulgarian (or some other language). There is some massive problem or something and he is frustrated.

Caroline is sitting at her vanity, listening to this conversation; knowing that Klaus thinks she can’t understand a word he is saying. When he hangs up the phone, he apologizes in French (because that is only the language he assumes she knows) and she replies, in perfect Bulgarian that it is alright. She then also, in Bulgarian proposes a solution to his problem- all the while getting dressed behind a vanity.

Klaus. Is. Smitten.

Caroline leaves without a backwards glance, leaving Enzo to tell Klaus Caroline’s story. The next day, a boutique of flowers appear at her dressing table before a show; with a thank you card from Klaus for solving his problem. Caroline smiles, not realizing that Klaus bought a private box in the club to watch her preform.......all the while reading her thesis. Realizing that Caroline is indeed, more than just a pretty face.

And that is all I got.

#Klaroline #Plot Bunny

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tenaclty · 4 years

Photo

final shots of milk tea, my emilie autumn/through the looking-glass-inspired furby! she’s a cute little bunny covered in lace and hearts, and her mane is based on emilie’s cool look from the fight like a girl tour.

she is pictured here alongside my personal baby, samhain, @fubblers‘s trance trender, and a small crochet man made by @goldnboi. this is everything in the house that currently has a mowhawk, except for me lmao

she was purchased by @whyyesimnot, alongside one of my other babies, oddface, to benefit protest bail funds in dallas! i don’t currently have any more furbies for sale, but i’m still taking commissions to benefit bail funds and causes related to black american empowerment. feel free to DM me if you’re interested!

#furby #custom furby #oddbody #sfw furby #emilie autumn #my art #my oc #my furby #friend oc #trance trender #samhain

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oftenderweapons · 4 years

Text

Cold Nights - Hoseok

Pairing: Hoseok x reader (nicknamed Giggles)

Wordcount: 1.5k words

Genre: (hinted/mild) smut, fluff, lowkey angst

Rating: suggested 18+

Hiya! It’s Hobi’s turn! I have finally finished writing my dissertation, which is currently being checked by my professor. There might be some editing to do, but I’ll have to hand it in on Monday so I’ll feel more relaxed after that. Last step will be presenting it to a commission from my university that will give me my final grade. And then GRADUATION (supposedly November 4th)!

But let’s move on to more pleasant stuff! This fic is set a couple days after Hoseok’s Love Talk and it deals with Hobi’s feels for his Giggles. The end of this drabble is ideally the beginning of Hobi’s Wild Nights.

Word count: around 3k maybe, didn’t check 🤔

Here you can find my Masterlist

Enjoy!

————————————————————

Hoseok stared at his feet.

He had just left your place and he felt messy.

Yoongi opened the door almost immediately. "Hey."

"Hey." He responded quietly.

"Are you busy? Is Kitten around?" He asked as he entered his apartment and took off his shoes.

"No, she's with Angel." He said.

"They're hanging out a lot together." He noticed. "If I were you I'd be worried."

"Who told you I'm not." Yoongi quipped, shaking his head with an exasperated laugh.

They both entered the kitchen and sat down at the table. "Beer or soju?"

Hoseok exhaled. "Beer."

"Cool." Actually, fuck. He silently grabbed two cans. Maybe he should directly go for all six of them. This conversation was about to get heavy. "Listen, I love talking about Kitten--"

"You love Kitten, full stop."

"I do, but that is not the point." Yoongi remarked. "What is going on?"

Hoseok laced his fingers together, placing them on the table. "I think you know by now but I'm seeing someone."

"As in dating or hallucinating?" Yoongi asked with a serious, concerned tone which made him even more hilarious.

Hoseok shook his head.

"Just kidding, go on." Yoongi said, happy that Hoseok was hiding a smile. He was glad he could instill some happiness even though he looked so lost.

"Giggles."

"Oh, is that your Kitten?" Yoongi asked. "I mean is she to you what Kitten is to me?" In the meanwhile he put two glasses and the drinks on the table.

Hoseok laid his forehead on the back of his hands. "I don't know. I think so?" He sat up straight again. "She's a masterpiece. Cute and kind and bright and so, so lovely."

"But?" Yoongi nagged. Usually this was the point when Hoseok said he didn't feel anything or that she was boring or that he needed something different.

Hoseok shook his head, laying down again. It was slightly hilarious. "No buts." He rose up again, skittish. "But maybe it's temporary and I'll grow bored or she'll get tired and maybe it's just too early to find out about buts and maybes."

Yoongi opened his bear and poured some as Hoseok merely mirrored his gestures without really thinking. "How long has this been going on with the two of you?"

"More or less... Three months?"

"Mh." Yoongi meditated. His arrangements were usually a few weeks, maybe a couple months. This was the point where his interest just disappeared. From here on it was all uncharted territory for him. That's why he looked so scared, Yoongi thought.

"I don't know if I've been — like — swept off my feet by the sex or if this is actually affection."

Yoongi pouted and nodded.

"I've never had someone like her, Yoongi. I've never felt this need to protect and just gush all over someone. I want to tell everyone about her. And then I want to keep her all to myself."

"Does she make you happy?" Yoongi asked.

"Yes." He didn't hesitate one second. "I've never felt my life so full. It just... It feels like I don't even have to try. Like she needs to be in my life for some reason because she makes it better."

"What do you expect from your ideal partner?" Yoongi asked taking another sip of beer.

Hoseok looked at the glass and drank too, reflecting on his answer. "I think other than love and respect, maybe... Peace? Serenity? Someone who can pick me up when I feel down? She's just... She's ticked all the damn boxes so far and I can't help but be continuously reminded of how fucking perfect she is." Hoseok scrunched his face. "If she's not the one, then I don't know who could possibly be."

"And I bet you haven't told her about this, huh?"

Hoseok let himself go, his elbows propped on the table, his head in his hands. "How could I? I don't even know what the fuck is going on.".

"You do know though."

"How can I, Yoongi? How can I ask that?" Hoseok raised his voice. "This started as sex, Yoongi. I'm not like you wrapping my emotions in gift paper and handing it to my partner whenever I start seeing someone new."

Yoongi stayed still, blinking.

"Sorry. I overreacted. I think I'm in panic mode." Hoseok frowned. "It's... I'm afraid she'll throw me away?"

"You should be having this conversation with Namjoon. Do you remember what he put himself through for that precise fear?" Yoongi poured all the beer left in his can. "I think you should tell her you want to be with her. Call it what you want. Maybe Kitten and I did it the traditional way, went on dates, did stuff together, said our "I love you"s and got together, but that's not the only way to do that. You know how it went with Joon and Vixen."

"They were dating too. Giggles and I are not like that."

"How did it happen?"

"Mickey's vet was on holiday during an emergency, I took him to the vet and she was the substitute. It sort of spiraled out of control."

"I wanna ask how, but I'm not sure I wanna know." Yoongi snickered.

"I asked her number, she gave it to me. Went to a sort of a date but things got kinky and we hit it off..." He slipped into silence.

"Hobi, I think you should just find the nerves to tell her you want more. I know it's scary as fuck and everything, but I'm pretty sure she's a sweet girl who'd love to be by your side."

"She is sweet." Hoseok said with dreamy eyes. "And caring, and loving and funny and so, so soft."

"Just ask her out already. Simply tell her 'Hey, you, I know we've been going at it like bunnies for months but do you wanna go out for dinner or whatever, see if we work as something more?" Yoongi resolved practically.

"Do you think she'll say yes?" Hoseok asked, a little anxious.

"I think the right way to approach this is, what happens if she says no?" Yoongi reasoned.

"I don't want to think about it."

"In my opinion she would just say 'thanks man, but I'm not interested' and you'd just keep fucking like bunnies."

"And what would I do with my feelings?" Hoseok asked, frowning at his empty glass.

Yoongi smiled bitterly. "I am not the greatest advisor with this but I'd say you either keep them on the low or let them go. If you can." He perched himself on the chair, bringing his knees to his chest. "Personally, if she said no, I would let go of her and find someone new. It hurts but usually you cannot kill feelings for someone. The more you go on, the more it hurts. But just talk it out with her, casually."

Hoseok nodded and stood up abruptly. "I can't keep living with the doubt. I can't go on like this. Gotta go. Thank you, Yoongi."

Hoseok dashed for the entryway, Yoongi at his heels. "Guess if it goes sour you'll text me for a drunk pity party?"

Hobi was already putting his shoes on. "Guess so." Left shoe.

"And if it goes well you'll just go AWOL for a couple hours?" Yoongi suggested.

"More like a couple days, but we'll see." Right shoe. He stood up, grabbing his coat. "Thanks a lot. You know you're the best friend in the world, right?"

Yoongi nodded with a soft smile. "You are, too. Good luck."

"Thanks, see you!" Hoseok sprinted out of the door.

Yoongi simply closed the door behind him, shaking his head with a smirk.

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

"Hey." One sweaty, breathless Jung Hoseok stood at your door. His call had caught you by surprise: when you had picked up your phone he asked if you were home so he could stop by. You told him you had just arrived from your shift. And now you were at your doorstep, staring at each other.

"Hello." You said with a confused smile.

"I'm in love with you." He declared, still breathless, hunched down, standing with his knees bent and his hands propped on them for support.

You blinked a few times, asking yourself where all of this was coming from.

Fuck it. "I love you too." You said, ignoring the common sense and reason suggesting you asked an explaination for this.

He went wide-eyed with incredulity, standing up straight. Next thing you knew he was kissing you desperately, pushing you back in your apartment and closing the door with his foot. "I love you." He purred.

"I love you too, Hobi. I'm in love with you, baby."

He growled. "Bedroom. Now."

#bangtan sonyeondan #bts imagine #bts headcanons #hoseok imagine #hoseok scenario #hoseok x reader #sope fic

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emeraldtawny · 5 years

Text

Blanc x OC [Florencia]: Honesty

A Ko-Fi fic for the wonderful @carmelomon (with their permission, of course) who commissioned a semi-angst mutual pining fic with her OC Florencia and our favourite bunny man.

Thank you for your patience on this, and I hope you all enjoy~! ^w^

“Listen well, Florencia. If you want to make it home, there’s one kind of magic you must not fall under the spell of. It’s the strongest, oldest magic in this land--

Love.”

Such an innocent reaction crossed her face as she took in the White Rabbit’s words that day. The sight was incredibly endearing, so sweetly naive that he couldn’t help but smile.

Now though…

“Only tragedy awaits those who fall in love with someone from a different world.”

Now, his smile is touched with a hint of chagrin at the thought. It leaves a bitter taste in his mouth despite the unavoidable sweetness of the sensation overcoming him, like a cookie burnt around its edge. He let them sit too long in the heat, unaware of the consequences they would bring as a result.

Such delicate flavours. Ruined. Yet, here he was, still wanting a taste of the girl from the Land of Reason - his own reason long since compromised.

The month flew by so quickly, he barely registered the days that passed. One week felt like the blink of an eye, yet any time spent with her left him floating in a timeless state, the concept of seconds ticking by now forgotten, the laws of the universe no longer applying. He treasured every moment he saw her smiling face, the sparkle in her eyes with her visits to his quaint abode. And, of course, the sweet way she would lower her eyes from him at his words, as smooth and sweet as honey.

The sweet blush that would light up her face, highlighting her cheekbones and occasionally caressing her ears; it was a sight Blanc realised he grew to seek. He found it...addicting, for lack of a better word. A silent challenge to bless her face with a new red hue with each interaction. That was the moment he realised his error; how he realised his own hypocrisy and how it dusted the sweet tone his thoughts played of her with a pungent sour note.

(No. This isn’t what I think it is. I haven’t fallen under this spell. I’m forbidden from even entertaining the thought.)

Desperate is not a word one would use for the White Rabbit and that was a fact he was well aware of. Luckily for him, the cascade of torrential thoughts thrashing and flailing within his mind never translates through his demeanour, his eyes calm and still like pools of rose gold, the truth of his strife never revealed to the world.

…

The sun hangs low in the sky as the familiar sound of three gentle knocks announces itself at Blanc’s and Oliver’s cottage door. Blanc barely notices the subtle spring in his step as he makes his way to the door, opening it wide. She greets him with a smile so serene it could chase away the shadows of the night about to come, the lingering sunlight framing her delicate form. Blanc’s thoughts of how its heavenly glow surrounds her like an angelic halo are quickly banished.

Her hair is secured into a simple side-braid while her bangs are left to frame her face. She wears a white lace shawl, its ribbon tied into a perfect bow sitting pretty on her collarbone, the simple pastel blue dress underneath hugging her waist and flowing down to just above her knees, with brown ankle-cut boots completing her look.

Blanc smiles at the sight before him, knowing little of the radiance shining in his own eyes as he gazes at her.

“Welcome, my dear Florencia. Do come in, I’ve just finished the tea.”

“Thank you, Blanc!”

(She sounds happy today, that’s good.)

An innocent thought, he tells himself, as she steps past him and into the house, the perfume she wears capturing his attention as he takes in a breath. Her eyes dart up to his before quickly averting her gaze and making her way to the lounge, Blanc following close behind.

Unbeknownst to them, Oliver’s eyebrow twitches watching the two of them enter, the frown marring his face hidden behind the teacup he sips from.

“Good evening, Oliver. You seem well today.” She greets him with a smile.

“And you seem like more of an optimistic goofball than usual.” His reply is a characteristically curt comment, yet it dims her shining light none.

“Now now, Oliver. Have I not stressed enough the importance of being kind to beautiful ladies?”

The young boy rolls his eyes, huffing an aggravated sigh, “You never shut up about it. I’ve learned to tune it out.”

She shakes her head with a laugh, the sound musical to Blanc’s ears. He reaches out to rest his hand reservedly on her shoulder, the gesture making her turn her head to meet his eye, slight surprise brightening her hues further.

“Allow me, my lady.”

Moving to stand behind her, he reaches his long, slender arms around her, letting his fingers find the ribbon of her shawl. His face rests next to hers as he peers over her shoulder to assess his work, but he doesn’t fail to notice the sweet blush donning her cheeks in his peripherals. With a satisfied smile and a simple tug of his fingers, the ribbon comes undone, the shawl loosening from her form. Blanc pulls back and elegantly slides his gloved hands over her shoulders, taking the shawl into his own hands.

Her mumbled “thank you” and the way she attempts to hide her face by hunching her shoulders pulls a laugh from Blanc despite himself, and he breezes past her to drape her shawl over the back of the chair. Wood scraping against wood disrupts the air as Oliver stands from his seat, his expression less than amused.

“I’m going to bed if that’s the preview of what’s to come tonight. Goodnight.”

“Oh, alright. Goodnight, Oliver.”

He doesn’t respond to her, already turning away to head to his room. He cuts Blanc a pointed glare over his shoulder before he disappears up the stairs, one clear in its message of disapproval and unresolved business. With an acknowledging nod from Blanc, he disappears, leaving the two of them alone in the lounge, the sunlight in the room quickly fading with the retreating sun.

Compared to previous visits, the sun fell behind the horizon and the moon rose into the sky far too quickly for Blanc’s liking. All too soon, she was to leave back home to the Black Army headquarters. Their time together was pleasant enough; tea and cakes were shared, simple yet heartwarming conversations of recent events and how each other have been were exchanged. Blanc couldn’t ask for more, but his rogue thoughts had other ideas. Telling him to touch her, to caress her cheek, to run his thumb over her lip with the excuse of wiping away a dab of cream as his cover for a chance to feel her plump lips on his skin.

He blinks at the ungentlemanly thoughts whirling around his head. Since when did he let these thoughts free from their cage?

“Are you finally going to start accepting it now, you mangy rabbit?”

His amber hues meet those of a shimmering grey as he turns towards the source of the deep voice. The man standing at the bottom of the stairs stands arms crossed, the creases in his forehead telling of his discontent as he glares at Blanc.

“Why, I’m afraid I’m not sure what you’re alluding to, young Oliver.” He turns away, busying himself with clearing the table. The sigh Oliver huffs radiates annoyance.

“Don’t try to keep denying it. Do I need to spell it out for you, since you seem so insistent on avoiding what’s staring you right in the face?”

The clinking of plates ceases as Blanc sets the tray down on the countertop, his back turned to avoid Oliver’s judging eyes. Silence screams out in the room, neither man moving to silence it. The grip Blanc has on the tray’s handles tightens, causing a teacup to clink against the saucer below it. The tension heightens, the atmosphere heavy.

“I know...”

Blanc doesn’t see Oliver’s eyes soften with melancholy at his strangled words, too focused on the swarming thoughts chipping away at the armour around his heart.

“There’s nothing I can do about it, Oliver. You know that.” A resigned sigh escapes him, one hand moving to adjust his glasses.

Then, a deep thrumming laugh. Blanc’s eyes widen and he turns around, surprise overcoming him at the sight of Oliver’s lips stretched wide in a smile, his laughter making his broad shoulders shake. After a moment, he meets Blanc’s wide-eyed stare, the amused smile on his face unyielding.

“Never thought I’d see the day where you’d be left like this, and it had to be by some dimwitted girl, too.” He exhales through his nose, eyes closing momentarily before looking back with a serious gaze, “There is something you can do about this.”

Blanc blinks, his mind reeling.

(Is there something I can do? No, of course there isn’t. The magic of love is too strong, nothing can dispel it. I can’t--)

“Accept it.”

“Wh-what?”

Oliver looks at his friend like he’s just grown two heads. “You seriously didn’t consider that possibility? She must be rubbing off on you.”

Pursing his lips, Blanc stares back at Oliver with a steely coldness, an almost unrecognisable look on his usually warm face, “I thought you were giving me a serious suggestion, Oliver.”

“It is a serious suggestion.”

“She can’t stay here in Cradle when she has her own home to return to. It would hurt her and me both if I stopped her returning to where she wanted to be, just because of my selfish desires.”

A look of exasperation dominates Oliver’s face as he sighs. Loudly.

“Seriously? You think she wants to go home? Just how blind are you?”

Blanc’s blank stare is the only answer Oliver needs.

“She’s always coming here to see you. She looks like there’s nothing wrong with the world when she’s with you. If seeing you two together makes me physically sick to my stomach to watch, then I know you’re a match made in heaven.”

Blanc searches for his voice to rebut, but finds only air. Would letting himself entertain these dreams as more than that not be as bad as he thinks? The thought is a dangerous one, but it’s one quickly solidifying itself into his mind.

“Just-” He looks up at the sound of Oliver’s voice, “-give it a chance. Maybe ask Florencia what she wants. You ever considered the fact that she actually wants to stay here?”

He never did. The thought strikes him like lightning, shocking his senses into a new light. Not once did he ever ponder what she was thinking, himself too wrapped up in his warring thoughts to spare one for her. He chides himself silently, his delicate eyebrows pulling together, while Oliver huffs a sigh, this one of a more satisfied tone.

“I swear, you two are perfect for each other with how dense you both are…” He mutters quietly to himself before retreating back up the stairs, the wood creaking softly beneath his steps.

Alone in the lounge, Blanc pulls out the nearest seat and sits down, proceeding to fold his arms together on the wood before letting his head fall on top of them.

(What she wants…)

He pulls his head up so he can remove his glasses, setting them neatly on the table before burying his face into his arms again.

(Would she...want to stay here? I hope so. Oh, I desperately hope so.)

Each hope-filled thought he kept locked away frees itself from its shackles with each passing minute, the warmth of each splendid thought settling the churning of his stomach and easing the storm in his mind.

…

Blanc clicks open his pocket watch to check the time, internally cursing himself for his tardiness.

(I’m late. For a very important date!)

The night before left him restless and unsure, but as the sun greeted Cradle’s new day, he came to a decision. He had to be honest - with himself and with her.

He runs as fast as his legs can carry him, crossing over the bridge into Black Territory. As the sun reaches its apex in the sky, he comes to a halt outside the Black Army gates, his breaths heavy and ragged. As if fate is smiling down upon him, there she is, walking up to the gate at a leisurely pace.

(As I thought. She always leaves for the Central Quarter at around midday on Sundays to go shopping.)

A smile curls his lips at the thought of her schedule being so ingrained into his mind and he scolds himself for denying it for so long. Through his gasps for air, he picks up on her sweet voice calling his name.

“Blanc!”

He meets her eyes just as she stops before him, the gate the only barrier between them.

“What are you doing here? You look exhausted, are you okay?”

The concern shining in her eyes touches his heart and it quivers in his chest.

“Yes, I...I’m fine. I just...I had to see you as soon as possible.”

“So you ran here? You could have taken a carriage.”

He laughs breathlessly, “So I could’ve.”

Her eyebrows pinch together in worry watching him gulp for air, but all he feels is unbridled affection, the sensation working together with his exertion to restrict his airways. As his breathing levels and his composure returns, he steps closer to the gate between them, reaching out through it.

“Blanc?”

With a single finger, he traces the contours of her cheek. She freezes but doesn’t pull away, letting his finger trail further down to follow the natural line of her jaw before hooking under her chin and tilting it up so she can’t escape his gaze. The way her cheeks pinken under his stare, the subtle heat exuding from her eyes; at last, he can see it.

(You can feel it too, Florencia? This burning sensation, gripping your heart like a vice yet you crave its hold? Please, tell me you do.)

With a gentle, charming smile, he leans in as close as the gate lets him, cupping her face and feeling the warmth of her skin through his gloves.

“Would you mind accompanying me for today, my lady? There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you for a long time.”

The way her eyes glisten, with heat and with hope, is a sight that Blanc knows he will never forget. Caressing her soft cheek with his thumb, they stare into each other’s eyes, the clarity of his thoughts daunting yet freeing all at once as he lets her look into his soul; as he lets her see what his honest feelings are.

#ikerev #ikerev fanfic #blanc lapin #tawny's ko-fi fics #oliver being the voice of reason #....albeit quite harshly grksdnflkd #I gotta say though..was not expecting to like writing for Blanc so much :3

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orchidbark · 1 year

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Service with a smile! (for @hellabigclaws)

#furry #lion #anthro #bunny suit #furry art #traditional art #my art #lace & bunny girls commissions #commissions

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wuffsky · 7 years

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Post-Con Depression

I don't really know what I want to say here. It's Monday night or Tuesday. Whatever you want to call 4:37AM. I did more drugs on Friday night than I've ever done at once in my life. Alcohol, pot, mushrooms, 2 different hits of molly, one possibly laced with speed... I'm surprised I didn't die. I drank on Saturday, but I'm still currently recovering from Friday. I never want to reach that level again. This ain't a hangover. I put my sexuality on display on Friday. I had sex for a total of almost 4 hours. Stole the girls off men's arms (not because I was smooth, but because I was high as fuck and overly forward. I made out with my friends and I don't even remember it). What I do remember is when I started to come to. I was still riding my multiple highs, and I ended up with a friend of mine in the trippy/cuddle room. The one who gave me most of the harder drugs. I remember barely comprehending the room. Cheetah print was popping out at me from the ceiling. Neon balloons littered the floor along with a mess of legs and bodies. Blankets, soft things, condoms, and fetish lists decorated the blacklit room. We found a spot on the floor and collapsed into a puddle. We took turns laughing at nothing and feeding off each other's high. I swear we morphed into a single person. I laid on his chest while he had his arms around me and kissed the top of my head. It was perfect. It wasn't sexual. It wasn't even romantic. It was just two people that think the other person is dope. My roommates were on the couch on the other end of the room. It was strange seeing such constant fixtures in my life in that room. My friend grabbed water from somewhere and I almost drank the whole bottle. I felt a little more alive and less like solid, squishy cosmos. We decided to go out for a smoke. As we opened the hotel door, the cold air hit me and ruined the still image of the city I grew up in. I remember shivering something fierce, and my friend offered me his jacket, but I declined, because although I was cold, the cold was reminding me that I was human and not invincible. It was reminding me that even though it was 4 in the morning, and the streets and city were still and silent, that laying in the middle of the cold street would be a terrible idea and not like you see in romance movies. However, it managed to sober me enough to think I was coming down. I cut my time short and said my goodnights to the other people who had popped out for a smoke. I looked at my friend, who had blacklight reactive paint all over his face, and was wearing a blacklight reactive bunny hood I made, and he gave me a kiss as we parted ways. I made it to my room, without my shoes, and I was back to being a living embodiment of drugs. I spent half an hour watching my pupils dilate in the bathroom and thinking about how weird my face and hair looked. I took some pictures, but deleted them. I wish sober me could have seen them, and not the pictures I don't remember sending to an old friend. I uncomfortably tried to fall asleep in my high state for hours. I legitimately wondered if I'd ever be sober again. Eventually I drifted off, and my night ended. Saturday was full of recovering and pacing myself, so although it was good, it wasn't nearly as interesting. All this to say that my post-con depression has had me thinking tonight. I woke up this afternoon feeling like hell. Just low as can be. Thinking about death, the whole lot. But I knew it was temporary, so I pushed forward, showered, didn't eat, and got to work on my commissions. In real life, you gotta keep making that money to live. It doesn't help I lost $50 at the con. So 5:00 comes around, my man's wake up time, and he doesn't get up. I figure he needs his sleep after working the night before and set a late alarm. 6:00 comes around. Nothing. So I continue working and tell myself that when 7:00 rolls around, I'll pop in there and wake him up with some cuddles and kisses. Skip the bratty morning I usually give him. Make us both feel a little better. 6:39pm I get a text, which read, "Seriously. Second time you've done this in a row. When you unplug the one thing to try and turn off the LEDS and it doesn't turn off, plug that shit the fuck back in, since obviously that fucking cord wasn't the fucking LEDS since you had to unplug another cord. You know this because you had to unplug a second fucking cord". I had not touched any other cord aside from the LEDs. The other cord was his phone charger, I later learned. I understand why he was upset, and the fact he thought I did was whatever, but amplified by my fragile state, the way he spoke to me snapped me in half. I teared up, and I was angry. The man I want to be my husband was talking to me like my ex, and I felt physical pangs of sadness, confusion, and anger ball up in my chest and stomach. I told him to not get pissy with me over something I hadn't even done. He told me he didn't know what to think, because I had "lied about minor things in the past", which, again, I hadn't. I told him I was unstable from the weekend and he told me he was too. That was the end of that, and I stopped working. I curled up in the fetal position on the couch and played Zelda to pick me up. He stayed in our room for a while. Good hour and a half at least. My mood got worse and worse, so I mentally left myself behind and became Link, for a time. One perk of having mental health issues; I can do that on command. I didn't react when I finally heard him come out of our room. He came over to me, looked over at my haphazardly tossed project, and I turned to look at him. He bent down and pressed his face to mine, leaving it there for a few moments, silently saying he was sorry and that he wasn't in a great place. He stood up straight again, and inched away a bit. "Come to me," he said. "Take your game with you". So, slowly, I did. Some time passed, and we went upstairs so he could go to work and we could both grab food. We said our I love yous and all that jazz, and I told him not to work too hard tonight. A little while after he left, he texted me "I'm sorry for today. I promise I'm gonna do my best for you, and to not repeat this shit while I recover. This weekend took out more from me then I ever would have expected". I openly cried a little, but wrote back that it was fine and that I understood. I'm overreacting and attaching everything to things that have happened to me in other relationships, but it sent me in a downward spiral. Even as I type this, I'm down and out. I started thinking about my friend from Friday. How something so simple, like tripping balls and laughing with me in a room full of people, while giving me the occasional forehead kiss, was so goddamn nice. I wished it had been my man that night, but I laughed about it then, because I knew he would never just do that. His party persona wouldn't allow it to ever naturally happen. Never have I once tripped with my man where he isn't bouncing around putting on a face for everyone else or trying to fuck someone. Never have I once even drank with him where we just laughed together or collapsed into a puddle at any public party space. Instead, I wonder if I'm being clingy, or annoying, or being a cockblock. I think these things about my own boyfriend. I feel like that's wrong. Instead, I pick him up and get him to safety when he's passed out, even if he's wronged me that night. I feel selfish for wanting him by my side. I get told I am selfish for wanting to have sex with him when other women are prospects. Like I'm not good enough. Gotta have that new meat. Gotta get get that prize, because that seems to be how self esteem works for men. Because the girl who loves you can just fuck right off when you have the option to fuck literally anyone else. At the end of the day, I always tell myself I don't deserve more because I'm hard to handle and my shit is so fucking scattered that it would take a miracle to have it together. All I want to do is do right by him and make him believe I'm worth it. It's so goddamn hard to find the line of what's just in my head and what has truth behind it. I've gotten so used to being treated like shit in the past that I feel like he treats me like gold. But then I look at my friends, poly or not, and they're with their partners at parties or social events. They don't think twice about it. Then there's me, bawling my eyes out on new years because I found mine in a room under the stairs in my own house with his fucking pants off. Nevermind New Years being important to me. Nevermind claiming him for myself that night months in advance. I get to be the girl that's openly crying over her boyfriend at 2 in the morning at that party you went to. I guess that's what I get for falling in love with the life of the party. Why do I even try to be happy?

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