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littlemisskookie · 8 months

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Crocodile Tears: Chapter 2

Crocodile Tears: Index Ship: Stoner!Reader | Stoner!BTS Description: You accidentally eat brownies with aphrodisiacs in them. Even worse one of your asshole friends catch you reading smut to cope, and decides to airdrop your collection of your dirtiest fantasies to the rest of the house. Just your luck. Warnings: Dub-Con, Degradation, Humiliation, Dom!Taehyung, Sub!Reader, A/B/O Roleplay, Choking, Headlock/Chokehold, Slapping, High Sex, Intercourse, Primal Play, Outdoor Sex, Kinkshaming?, Overstimulation, Creampie, Breeding Kink, Multiple Orgasms, Oral, Blowjob, Deepthroating, Edging, Really just PWP, Also Praise Kink somehow?,Taehyung has a ridiculously big penis, Taehyung is SUPER mean, like, very sadistic, lots of ABO names used a lot so if you don’t like that skip, Weed Word Count: 6,197 A/N: sorry for the wait. Here’s this!

You stepped out of the bathroom after cleaning yourself up, praying to god no one could smell the sin coming off you in waves. Jungkook provided no comfort, either, only giving a teasing grin as you stepped out. "Looking kinda wobbly, Y/N."

"Don't tease me," you hissed, trying to ignore the echoes of pleasure still residing in the pit of your stomach. Your hands roamed over your neck, faintly tracing at the marks Jungkook had left. You couldn't bear to stare at them any longer in the mirror, but one look at you and everyone would see what you were up to. "How am I going to hide these from the others?"

Jungkook shrugged. "Don't really see a point, honestly." You glared up at him, his lack of concern for your situation irritating you. A whining beep emitted from the laundry room you were previously in, and Jungkook's on the move. "I've got an idea."

Jungkook came back with an oversized hoodies, probably one of Namjoon's, straight from the dryer. You beamed up at him, grateful, reaching out to get it. He held it away from you, however, a sly tug at the corner of his lips as he stared down at you. "Nah ah, give me a kiss first."

You flushed at his words, quickly rising to your toes to reach him for a kiss, yanking the hoodie for your own as soon as your lips meet Jungkook's. He doesn't let it remain short, however, leaning into you and pulling you against him to kiss you deeper. He hums against your mouth, only pulling back when he felt you were wanting a bit more. "You wanting to smoke again?"

You're yanking the toasty fabric over your head as you contemplate the question. Jungkook had fucked one high out of you to replace it with another. Truth be told, though, you were still too anxious to return to the living room where the majority of the guys would be. You still couldn't face the predicament you were put in, and who knew what the afterglow you emanated would reveal to them. You couldn't risk it. "Do you know where I can find any? I don't want to be a bother to the other guys."

There seemed to be a knowing glint in Jungkook's eyes when you say that. "I think there's a bong on the back porch. Why don't you check over there?"

You were surprised that Jungkook didn't insist on coming with you, but figured you needed the break. Being around Jungkook was intense enough as it is, and you didn't want anyone to be able to tell right now that you two had fucked. Guys typically paid attention to that sort of thing, and with your different clothes and mussed up hair you were basically begging to be teased- in more ways than one as evident by the men you've encountered tonight.

You were not granted the liberty of being alone, however, when you stepped onto the back porch.

"Oh, Taehyung, sorry to bother you."

Taehyung was sitting on an outdoor sofa, bong in one hand and phone in the other. He ignored the woods before him, an acre or so of land that Namjoon's parents owned in addition to the house. He looked up from his phone to grin up at you, smoke curling around his lips. "Y/N! Come join me."

You obliged and sit down next to him on the couch, grabbing the bong and taking a hit from it. You enjoyed the feeling of the smoke filling your lungs and muddying up your mind, giving you a hazy high that rivaled that of an orgasm. Taehyung's droopy, red-tinged eyes roved over you, lingering your lips pressed against the top of the bong as you took a hit. He bit his lower lip, pinching the thick fabric of your hoodie and tugging you closer.

You shivered under his intense gaze, suddenly feeling too warm. The hot summer night suddenly made the amount of clothes you wore suffocating, but perhaps the added heat was due to Taehyung's stare. You ignored the lingering effects of the brownies, assuring yourself that was the reason behind your horny thoughts and need. You had just been fucked by Jungkook- but here you were feeling excited over Taehyung's bit lip and touchiness. You obliged, letting him pull you to sit over his lap, your back turning against the woods behind you.

Taehyung pulls the bong towards him, encouraging you to light the bowl. He takes a hit, inhaling for as long as he can before putting his hand on the back of your neck, tugging your face closer to his. For a moment your heart raced, thinking he was about to kiss you. As though knowing what you were thinking, however, he cruelly smirked, hand sliding towards your jaw. He squeezed your cheeks, forcing your lips to part open as he blew smoke into your mouth. You inhaled it, only closing your lips once Taehyung finished and moved his hand over your mouth. "Hold it," he commanded, eyes dark as he watched you. You obeyed, letting it settle into your lungs, catching your breath so it wouldn't travel out. You did your best to suppress any oncoming cough, and after a few seconds Taehyung removes his hand. "Breathe."

You let it pour out from your nostrils, disappearing into the air and it wisps around your face. Closing your eyes, you imagined yourself as a dragon, the smoke warning of the fire inside you. You didn't feel very intimidating right now though- Taehyung held that power. Then again, when did he not? You're glad you were told to breathe, smoke or not, as you would've been anxiously holding your breath now in anticipation of his next move. He only looks up at you, relaxed eyes peering up at you.

Weed was different from alcohol in certain ways. When you're drunk everything you're feeling comes pouring out. When you're high everything around you pours in. When you're drunk, everyone can see exactly how you're feeling and you're more transparent than ever. Being high, especially those who are good at it, made it far easier to hide your emotions. Taehyung was the type. You could never read his emotions or expressions when he was high, he was basically unreadable. Taehyung was always a little unpredictable like that.

He rubbed the fabric of your hoodie between his fingertips. "I don't remember you wearing this earlier."

"Got it from the, uh, laundry room." Not a lie.

"Oh? Why? It's summer, and it's so hot out here. Aren't you too hot in this?"

"I'm fine, really, I was cold earlier."

"Are you cold now?"

"Well, no-"

"Take it off."

You stared at Taehyung, eyes locking. He said it so casually, but the small smirk on his face being your only indicator that this wasn't as innocent of a request as you'd like to believe. "Don't want you passing out from heat stroke, do we?" He tugged at the hoodie again, impatient. "Take it off."

His words left no room for argument. With shaky hands, you reached for the bottom of your hoodie, lifting it. Taehyung's fingers slid from the hoodie down to your bare thighs, hands running over the exposed skin and brushing over the hem of your shorts, but no further. He licked his lips, watching the hoodie fly over your head. "Well well well, where'd these come from?"

You felt the heat rise to your cheeks as his fingertips lightly brushed over the hickeys Jungkook left, leaving goosebumps in his wake. "I- um, I can explain-"

"Who were you in the laundry room with, Y/N?"

As though a deer frozen in the headlights, you felt caught. "I..."

Taehyung's featherlight touches became more sure and firm, his hand as now curling around the column of your throat with unquestioning authority. "Be a good girl and tell me."

You gulped, feeling your throat move under the pressure of his palm, unable to resist holding in the secret."Jungkook," you softly admitted.

Taehyung hummed, his pointer finger lightly tapping against the temple of your neck. "Figures that asshole would go before me."

You gasped in shock, eyes widening as you realize just what Taehyung had probably been doing on his phone when you walked in. "You know?"

He flashed his teeth, a smile gracing his features as he took in your surprise. "Mhm. Jungkook showed me it, said you airdropped it to him. Big reader, huh?"

As though on instinct, you jerk your neck back out of embarrassment, wanting to hide your face in shame where he couldn't see. You lifted your hips, wanting to jump off his lap to run away from the situation of being confronted. Taehyung has none of it, however, and pulled your thighs down to slam down against him. It's now that you can felt his erection against you, his grip forcing you to grind down on his dick. "Now, where do you think you're going, huh? I haven't even gotten my fun yet." He chuckled in your ear, his ministrations suddenly less gentle as he roughly grabs the back of your neck, the action so similar to what he did before. He brought your face close to his, forcing you to meet his gaze. "Wanna guess which one I was just reading?"

You squirmed on top of him, holding onto his shoulders to keep yourself upright. Biting your lip and shaking your head in embarrassment.

"But I think you'll like it," he laughed. "In fact, I know you will. It's one of the stories you touched yourself to, isn't it?"

"I-It's mainly just f-fantasies-"

"Your little fantasies about having big alpha cock to finally satisfy you?" Taehyung laughs sadistically in your face as he sees you whine in embarrassment. "Oh yeah, saw a lot of those, baby. Getting fucking bred and knotted, you just wanna be someone's bitch, don't you? I was just reading one about a little omega who needed an alpha to help her through... what's the word they used again? Oh right... her heat." He pressed you down harder against him, gliding your hips over him. "I thought it sounded a bit familiar..."

"It was an accident, Tae. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"But it's what you want, isn't it?" His nose nudged against yours, lips so close to yours, barely brushing as though to tease you. It was akin to the hanging grapes in front of Tantalus, but you may actually have a chance of getting what you so desperately craved. "Little omega just wants to be stuffed by an alpha, huh?"

You shuddered, fingers curling against Taehyung's shoulders. "Y-you're not being easy on me!" you whimpered out of frustration.

"Mm, I'm not, am I?" Taehyung's nose grazed along the side of your neck, his breath tickling your ear as you shivered in his grip. "I don't think you want easy, though, do you?"

You sunk your teeth into your bottom lip, unable to deny his accusation. "No... I don't."

"Hm," Taehyung hummed, slightly satisfied. His hand slid from behind your neck to caress your cheek. He tilted his head, still not giving in. "Yeah? Wanna be my bitch?"

"So bad," you admitted, finally giving in.

Taehyung finally rewarded you, connecting your lips to his. Kissing Taehyung, to put it bluntly, was hot. He was slowing down at the parts that he wanted to drive you crazy, and overwhelming you the next second. You kept up as best as you can, Taehyung's kiss making you hornier than ever. You had no doubt that even without the weed or the aphrodisiacs, he would have been able to get you aroused with a mere kiss. By the time you're pulled back, you're breathless but wanting more.

Taehyung seemed to know how good of a kisser he was, his satisfied expression from winning taking over his handsome features. He wasn't done conquering, though. Far from it. "Strip."

Taehyung's bluntness was still alarming to you. "Here?" You were outside. Anyone could walk outside and see you guys. Sure, there were only woods outside and no nearby neighbors, so the only ones who would see you would be the boys. You were having issues of your own with them already, though.

You're brought to surprise when Taehyung's palm struck your face, stinging your cheek. "A good omega does what their alpha tells them to do," he growled out under his breath. "Don't you want to be a good bitch for your alpha?"

You nodded, tears springing to your eyes as you got to work. You lifted your shirt and shorts, but were unsure whether you should leave your underwear on. Taehyung answered for you, an impatient and irritated tone lacing his voice. His hand landed against your ass, smarting the skin. "Are you stupid? All of it."

You obeyed until you were completely naked before him. You were glad for the summer air warming the night, but felt horribly vulnerable being so exposed in the open. If anyone saw you, naked, on top of a full clothed Taehyung, what would they think?

(Part of you was really excited to find out.)

"Go on and spread your legs. Let me see how wet a real slut gets."

Your face burned with embarrassment as you hesitantly do as told.

“Look at me,” he commanded. Taehyung didn't seem concerned in the least. His eyes glazed over your naked form, appreciating and admiring the view before him. His hands ran over your thighs, but remained respectful. Taehyung would be good, for now. "Nervous, little omega?"

"J-Just f-feel so embarrassed-"

"I think you like it, though," Taehyung grinned, his hands venturing up your waist and to your breasts. He fondled you before attaching his lips to one of your nipples, sucking and licking at the bud while keeping eye contact with you. You wanted so desperately to close your eyes and look away from his dark, piercing gaze, but remembered his words. He let you go after giving a small nip with his teeth, making you squeal above him. "Think you like being humiliated and exposed like this. Slapped around and treated like a toy. You secretly love this." You whimpered as Taehyung's hand ran over your folds, still slightly swollen from Jungkook's earlier battering. "Jungkook did a real number on you, huh?"

Your knees buckled into the chair cushions as Taehyung's fingers rubbed circles against your clit. "He was real mean to you, wasn't he sweetheart?"

You nodded pathetically, accepting the sweet kiss Taehyung's offered to your pouting lips. "It's ok baby," he said comfortingly. "I'm gonna be even meaner."

He plunged two fingers inside, movements hard and deliberate, making you practically crumple on top of him. He waited until you're practically quivering on top of him to stop, pulling back. You blinked in confusion as he lit the bong beside the two of you. He lit the bowl, inhaling to let the smoke fill the clear glass. "I'm gonna give you a head start to run into the woods. You have until I clear this and come catch you."

"What happens if you catch me?" you questioned, trying to regain composure, already off kilter from his rough fingering that left a pleasurable ache in you. You knew you were going to be sore by morning.

"What do you think? I'm gonna fuck you full of cum right where you stand," he informed you, taking the first hit of the bong. He blew the air out with nonchalance, as though he hadn't said what he said."I suggest you get started on your head start."

You weren't sure you were able to process this at the speed it was going. You found yourself fumbling over your words, mind trying to keep up with what was happening.

"C-Can... Can I-"

"Can you what, sweet girl?"

"Can I at least put the hoodie back on?" You'd feel especially terrified if you had to run through the woods naked. The hoodie would be the only thing big enough to completely cover you.

Taehyung doesn't seem especially pleased by the idea, but relented, reaching down by your other discarded clothes for the hoodie. He tossed it your way, taking another hit. "Fine. Only because I don't want you to waste the rest of the time you have left. Otherwise I'd think you'd want someone to walk in on you being a slut on the back porch."

You quickly yanked the hoodie over your head and turn towards the woods. The light from the house and the full moon peaked between the leaves, acting as your only light. You were terrified, adrenaline rushing through you like never before as you dashed between tree trunks, leaves crunching beneath your feet as you tried to get as far away as you could. You felt the sweat against your skin on the thick material of the hoodie, and felt hot from the running. You weren't expecting to do a workout today. You shouldn't have dawdled so much. Taehyung probably had only one more hit at best from the bong before he was going to be hot on your tails.

You ducked down behind a bigger tree, catching your breath and hiding away in the shadows. You tried to quiet your harsh breaths, heart pounding as you listened in on the night. Seconds passed. You heard nothing but crickets. You let out a sigh of relief, but it was too soon.

It started off as a faint, distant sound. The crunching of leaves beneath shoes approached. You heard the sound of steps coming closer, a few yards away. "Come out, come out, little omega. I want to hear you scream for me."

You held your breath, mind racing as you heard Taehyung get near. Your heart pounded in your chest and the hairs on the back of your neck stood straight up. You peeked around the trunk to Taehyung, who was turned away, searching for you. Taking your chance, you leapt on your feet, running in the opposite direction towards the house. Wrong move.

Your anxiety peaked as you heard his footsteps get louder and faster the closer he got to you, his shoes causing the leaves on the ground to crunch loudly behind you, reminding you of your impending doom. You practically flew between the trees, dodging trunks and branches, not even looking back. You focused on the light from the house in the distance, a beacon you ran towards for safety. Your hair flew behind you, and you didn't dare look back to the man chasing you. You could hear him, though, his harsh pants as loud as yours. It was hopeless, though, as you were soon tackled, Taehyung's strong arms wrapping around you as you both fell on the ground with him on top of you. Luckily you weren't hurt, Taehyung's large body taking the blow as the two of you fell on the ground. It wasn't until Taehyung pinned your shoulders down to the grass that you were able to process what happened, the starry night sky and overhead branches spinning before you.

"Gotcha," Taehyung said with a breathless, triumphant- no, cocky!- smirk.

You thought of all the items that you guys would get high together, and Jungkook would have the tendency to want to wrestle everyone in the group in a high stupor. As a result, you had participated in a few matches and knew all to well what it was like to be pinned down by Taehyung. In your high wrestling matches he would simply want you to stop moving, however, in order to win.

Now, he was wanting to dominate.

His hands enveloped your wrists like cuffs, locking you to the ground as he trapped you between his thighs. He sat down on your upper thighs, giving you no room to escape. You twisted underneath his grip, body writhing as you tried to get away, hopelessly stuck. He was breathing harshly, pants escaping his lips, nostrils flared. He snarled at you. "Get this stupid fucking hoodie off." He roughly tugged it off of you, practically tearing the article clothing off of you. You crossed your arms as he grabbed the fabric, trying to preserve your decency when exposed to both Taehyung and the night sky. It was pointless, though, and soon enough Taehyung is gifted with the visual of your naked form. He lifts you up to put the hoodie under you, the fabric replacing the rough ground and patches of grass beneath you. He grins a big, toothy smile when he sees your naked body beneath him. "There's my pretty girl."

Taehyung harshly grips your hips and forces them up, practically folding you in half as he pulls your lower half closer to him. You're leaning against your upper back now, shoulders pressed into the ground, hips suspended in the air to Taehyung's mercy. His hand reached out to grip your face, forcing you to look up at him. The lights from the house in the distance softly illuminated his features in the darkness of night, the shadows only making his handsome features more mysterious. "Told you I'd catch you, little omega."

"I tried-"

"I know you did, baby," Taehyung assured, arm curling around your leg to hold you up, fingers brushing against your folds. "Fuck, you’re so wet, huh? You liked being chased down? Like being a little afraid?"

"N-No, I-"

"So you’re a dirty little liar too? I can feel how drenched you are, stupid slut. You like a little danger, huh? Like being forced down?" You gasped at the feeling of him spitting on your pussy, and before you can respond his mouth is enveloping you, tongue rapidly flicking against your clit. He hums, sending vibrations through your body before he detached. "You liked the idea of being pinned and fucked where you stood, huh? Helpless to do anything when I make you cum over and over again?" Your back arches at his onslaught of impossible questions, fingers curling into his hair as your thighs trap him in, his mouth once again on your cunt. Your eyes twisted shut as you moaned from the onslaught of pleasure. You're overwhelmed, trying to squirm away from his skilled tongue, but seeing as you were practically folded in half, escape was impossible. Tears of pleasure were brought to the corners of your eyes as he switched to a suctioning sensation, and soon you were riding closer to the edge.

"Oh fuck! I'm gonna c-cum-"

Taehyung lifted up, giving you a moment to breathe as you come down from your edge. You frowned in disappointment, Taehyung's fingers coming up to your clit to replace his tongue not doing enough to satisfy you. "You can only cum if you call me alpha."

You give him a wide eyed look. "Tae-"

"Not Taehyung." His deep voice and raspy growl left no room for argument.

Cowering under his gaze and desperate for release, you caved. "A...Alpha."

His smirk of satisfaction was almost worth it in itself, but when his lips enveloped your clit without hesitation, you knew there was no turning back. You moaned out the new pet name over and over again until you reached your climax, Taehyung's greedy tongue lapping up your release and everything you had to offer. His eyes were locked with yours, eyes trained on your expressions as he thoroughly wrecked you with just his tongue. You were left limp and tired, Taehyung still holding your hips up to properly access his meal. It wasn't until you were lifted fully back to the ground that you were able to feel the ache in your upper back from the pressure put on it, but given the much more pleasure able ache in your pussy, you'd say it was a fair exchange.

Taehyung didn't seem to be done exchanging, however.

His hand fisted your hair and lifted your face to his, his mouth crashing against yours as his tongue delved into your mouth. The taste of your cum on his tongue sent your mind into a tizzy. Your head was spinning, still shaking in his hold from the tremors of your orgasm. You did your best to keep up with his kiss, but he devoured you completely, making you submit with just his tongue once again. You let out a gasp for air once he finally pulled away, but his pink, swollen lips tempted you to go in for more.

"Time to return the favor, omega," Taehyung said, licking his lips. "Take my cock out, baby. You've earned a taste."

Your face flushed at the insinuation that you've earned the right to give Taehyung a blowjob, but something about how cocky and arrogant he was, with plenty to back it up, made you squirm under his gaze. Though he had practically ripped your clothes off your body with demand, your shaky hands were far more subservient and methodical when you were pulling down his pants.

You should've known Taehyung had an unusually- no, unfairly- large dick. The smirk that he wore once he saw the surprise in your eyes told you that he knew it, too. Your expression must’ve been one he was familiar with. You held it in your hand, surprised that your short digits aren't even able to completely curl around the shaft. Sick of your admiring and stalling, Taehyung delivers a swift slap to your cheek, drawing you out of your trance.

"What're you waiting for? Fucking put it in your mouth, bitch," Taehyung hissed, beckoning your lips closer to the tip. You did as you were told, obediently opening your mouth and offering a kitten lick to the tip. Gaining more confidence, you put the entire tip in your mouth, laving your tongue around it to provide stimulation as you began bobbing your head up and down. Each time you went down you tried to take him in deeper. Luckily for you Taehyung's fist in your hair didn't force you further than you can take, instead helping you find your rhythm as you started properly fucking him with your mouth.

Taehyung's throaty growls and moans were likely music to your ears. Every curse that escaped his lips, every praise directed at you, turned you on even more. "Such a good girl, letting Alpha fuck your mouth like this," he groaned, tilting his head back to gift you the view of the column of his neck, his Adam's apple bobbing along his throat as he swallowed. "Fuck, gonna let me fuck your throat, omega? Want that?"

You nodded dumbly, humming around his cock. Your eyes widened, tears pooling in your eyes as Taehyung suddenly pushed you closer to the base of his cock, his dick plunging deeper into your throat. His grip on your hair tightened, yanking your head and bobbing your mouth over him over and over again. You focused on trying to breathe when you were pulled further up to the tip, and you could feel the tears slipping down your cheeks already. You didn't want to stop, though. Taehyung's moans became later, his thrusts more sloppy and erratic as he used your mouth. "Fuck yeah, oh my god, such a good little slut..." he murmured, grunts emanating from his throat. "Mm, you love this, don't you? Love the taste of my cock, huh?"

Your were forced all the way down to the base of his cock, your nose pressed against his pelvic bone as his full length sheathed inside your throat. You gripped onto his thighs, nails digging in as you tried to keep your place pressed against his body. You looked up at him with tearful eyes, his dark, sultry gaze encouraging you further to please him. You could feel his cock twitch inside your throat as he stared at your pretty face. “Fuck, look what you’re making me do to you,” he growled, as though all of this were really your fault. It felt like he was close to busting at any moment. After a few seconds, you were pulled off of him, spit falling down to your chin and chest as you were separated. You gasped for breath, coughing from his rough usage.

"Mm, you did so well for me baby," he purred, thumb wiping away at your face as you stared up at him. He slapped his cock against your face, the wet smacks bringing a smile to your face.

"W-Why didn't you cum?" you sputtered out, panting.

"The only place I'm cumming tonight is in your little pussy," Taehyung clarified, catching his breath. He offered himself a few strokes, trying to calm himself down. "Now, present yourself so Alpha can breed you."

You felt the blood rush to your face with embarrassment, but did as you were told. "Yes, Alpha." Your hands and knees pressed into the hoodie below you, and you arched, presenting your ass properly for Taehyung's viewing pleasure.

His hands roamed over you, leaving goosebumps in their wake. He got closer behind you, bending over so his lips would be close to your ear. "You want Alpha's cock, baby?"

You nodded, shivering as his hand curled around your neck, and then his entire arm. His bicep flexed against your neck, holding you in a chokehold. "Yes!" You gasped out. "Wanna be a good omega for you. Want you to breed me. Please please please-"

Your begging was cut short when you felt the tip of Taehyung's cock against your entrance, and soon he was pushing himself in. One of your hands reached up to dig your nails into Taehyung's bicep, and he loosened his hold, letting you breathe. You moaned as you felt him slowly enter you, your slick from your previous orgasm allowing him to slide in. Had he not eaten you out before you doubted you would've been able to take such a big dick so easily. He hissed with pleasure, a deep moan emanating from his chest. “Fuck, knew you’d have the perfect pussy. You’re so fucking tight. Always knew you’d get this wet for me.”

"F-Fuck! It's too big," you whimpered.

Taehyung only cruelly chuckled in your ear. "Yeah? Can't take it? When you begged so much for it? Acting like you don't want it when you're so wet and keep sucking me in?"

It was true. With each word he was only getting deeper in you until he was pressing against your cervix. You felt so full, you weren't sure you could take much more. Taehyung pulled his hips back, beginning to fuck you. You clasped at the hoodie and the grass, gripping whatever you could on the ground below you, whimpering as you took the brutal thrusts.

Taehyung's moans were more delicious than ever, now enjoying your cunt wrapped around him. His deep groans and grunts were now directly in your ear, letting you know just how much he was enjoying using your body for his pleasure. He dropped you from the chokehold, letting your chest fall limply to the floor, your hips still raised. His fingers dug into your hips as he slammed you back into him, his hips digging deeper into your ass. His hands pressed into your back, making you arch further like the pliant slut he knew you were.

He snickered as he saw your expression, a grimace of pleasure and tear-brimmed eyes, your sobs of ecstasy only bringing him closer to the edge. It was almost comical to him. "You're really fucking crying because it's too much? You begged for this. You should've thought about that before you decided to act like a horny little slut."

"I-It wasn't my fault!" You whined out, barely able to let out a coherent sentence due to Taehyung's rough thrusts. "The br-"

"Don't go blaming those, Y/N. We both know you wanted me to breed you like this long before tonight," Taehyung snidely remarked, his words causing you to hang your head down in shame. It was true. So often when you would read your smut you'd think of one of the guys in the love interest's place, the mere thought of them doing such taboo and pervasive actions making your heart race even when you were alone. For it to be happening in real life? Unreal.

"I did," you admitted with a sob, biting back an unseemly groan as Taehyung's large hand slid around your waist and to your cunt, cupping your heat and letting his fingers run along your sopping wet folds. "I wanted this for so long. Wanted you so bad, Alpha."

"I know, baby, I know. I'm here now," Taehyung assured you, his unrelenting digits on your clit and the battering against your g-spot driving you closer to the edge. You let out a high pitched whine, feeling your orgasm building up again. "Alpha's gonna knot you like the perfect omega you are. You gonna be good and take it all?"

You nodded your head rapidly, biting your lip as you felt your high approaching. "Yes, please! Give it to me. Gonna cum for you, Alpha."

"Yeah? My selfish little bitch is gonna cum again before Alpha gets to even once, huh?" The hand that wasn't currently determined to contribute to your undoing fisted your hair, raising you from the ground and closer to his body. Your back pressed against his chest and you arched, the pain of his fist pulling your hair and the sweet feeling of his mouth adding more hickeys to your neck making your head spin.

"I'm s-sorry! I can't hold it anymore, please A-"

"Tch." He interrupted you with a rough shake of his fist, causing you to whimper in both pain and shame. You were unable to turn away from his unforgiving eyes, though, his grip stern and demanding. "I should've expected it from a horny slut who gets off to wolf-fucking. Thought you were a good omega."

"I am!" you persisted, thighs beginning to quake. Taehyung put more of his body weight on you, letting you feel the brutality of his thrusts as he tried to go as deep as possible, determined to wreck you with every fiber of his being. You started to be bent forward again, your back arching and your chest getting closer to the ground as you were folded to Taehyung’s whims. For particularly deep and sharp thrusts he’d stay buried in you for a few seconds longer, letting you feel his balls like pressing up against your cunt and making contact with the fingers playing with your clit.

"You are?" A throaty chuckle vibrated in your ear. "Then why are you about to cum all over me?"

That's all it took for your last bit of resistance to be put down, and you let out a sob as you came harder than before, your legs quaking as you struggled to hold yourself up. If it weren't for Taehyung's firm grip you would've crumpled to the floor in exhaustion. Taehyung didn't stop, though, your orgasm only driving him into a frenzy as he snapped his hips into you at an animalistic pace.

"Stupid little slut," Taehyung growled, thrusts getting sloppy as he berated you. You squealed in pain as he slapped your ass, his blows brutal and swift, sparing no mercy. "Bad omega, cumming on my cock without permission."

"I'm sorry, Alpha!" you cried out, lips trembling as you felt him overstimulate you from one orgasm into another. Your body was unable to resist the overwhelming pleasure Taehyung brought. "Ah! Please, fuck, cum in me."

"Yeah? Want my knot? Want me to breed you?" Taehyung questioned, his growls turning closer to rasps as he got closer to the edge. "When you've been nothing but a- fuck, ah- dumb bitch?"

"Your bitch," you gasp out dumbly, your mind flying far into the heavens as Taehyung continued to fuck you with vigor. "Yours, yours, yours."

"Yeah, that's right." Taehyung smiled, hand sliding from your hair to your throat, squeezing as he felt your walls spasm around him as you entered your next orgasm. It was enough for him to be driven to climax, his warm cum filling you up as deep as he could. "My bitch," Taehyung confirmed, nails slightly digging into the skin of your neck as he emphasized it.

You panted for breath as you felt his cock twitch inside a few more seconds, Taehyung giving every drop he had to offer. You almost did feel like you were being knotted, the sore feeling in your body and Taehyung's enormous size making you feel just like those omegas in the smut you read. Eventually he dropped you from his grip, letting you slump down onto the hoodie beneath you. You whined at the feeling of Taehyung slipping out, though kept your ass raised obediently.

Taehyung cursed as he saw his cum dribble out of your hole and down your folds, the white liquids practically glowing under the moonlight. "Fuck," he muttered under his breath, enjoying the sight. He offered a wry smile your way. "Good girl. You earned that."

#Taehyung #taehyung smut #smut #bts #bts smut #bangtan #crocodile tears #Kim taehyung #kim taehyung smut #v smut #v fanfiction #Bts fanfiction #bts scenarios #bts imagines #v imagines #Dom taehyung

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alackofghosts · 20 days

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got tagged by tumblr user @fourteenthz (loved reading about thesa, by the way <3)! thank you very much!

— B A S I C S

name: lil guy i'm very shy, don't worry about it

nicknames: none based on his name, as it's quite short already, but will also respond to a fond and/or slightly exasperated "hero"

age: 33 as of 6.55

nameday: 27th sun of the 4th umbral moon

race: rava viera

gender: cis man

orientation: gay

profession: adventurer

— P H Y S I C A L A S P E C T

hair: black, naturally wavy, very thick and soft

eyes: dark brown

skin: warm brown, freckles easily, especially his face

tattoos: none

scars: burn scar on his left shoulder from his fight with ifrit, another burn on his right thigh from nidhogg. a few other scrapes here and there. notable lack of any significant scarring from shb and beyond, because that's how i see astrologian healing working - he feels particularly strange about not having a scar from his fight with zenos in endwalker

— F A M I L Y

parents: he has not been back to his home village, for obvious reasons, so doesn't know - but assumes - his mother is still alive and well; never met his biological dad. but because he showed signs of. however the viera would call/conceptualise the inner beast, one of the women called in a favour with a wood warder who was also a warrior, to take him under his wing to train. said wood warder, however, was wholly at a loss what to do with a child, having never taken in a ward before and decided to seek out an old friend, who had since left the forest. ...long story short, he ends up being raised by an all-viera dalmascan resistance cell, who end up packing up and leaving with him in tow after almost being rooted out by garlean forces. he views most of them as Parental Figures and loves them dearly, even if some of them have scattered into the winds after he left to become an adventurer

siblings: he isn't aware of any biological siblings, but the village took a very communal approach to raising kids, so at the time he definitely felt like the other kids were his siblings, regardless of any blood relations. one of the men in the resistance cell was a 'mere' 30 or so years older than him, so he also counts more as a sibling than anything else in his eyes

grandparents: he has definitely met his maternal grandmother, but as with his mother, he's not been back home and doesn't know if she is still alive (but in all likelihood: yes)

in laws and other: THE TWINS. putting an exact name to what alisaie and alphinaud mean to him would honestly not be Good or Close Enough, but they are absolutely like family to him and a reason to keep on going. he also has a very sibling-like relationship with lyse, who is always ready and willing to match his energy, tag along for workouts and tease the hell out of him

pets: he befriends an amaro hatchling at the crystarium during shadowbringers and during a later visit, her handler notes that she's been looking glum without him around. he loves animals, but his living situation has been far too chaotic after becoming an adventurer to accommodate an animal (that isn't his chocobo, who, at least, is much easier to house) and hasn't felt particularly inclined to change that. but after endwalker, he finds himself actually wanting to change that and has the time to do it... so, with a little bit of help from feo ul, he has a little amaro friend with him now

— S K I L L S

abilities: war + drk + pld and all that that entails. skilled and formidable fighter, good at navigating/strategising through a fight on the fly, quick study (as far as fighting is concerned, anyway)

hobbies: working out (especially running and swimming), hiking, he's been learning to enjoy fishing after endwalker

— T R A I T S

most positive traits: protective, caring, insatiable lust for life

most negative traits: too willing to let other people do the talking for him, impulsive, stubborn

— L I K E S

colours: warm red, gold, the bright green of sunlight filtering through leaves

smells: fresh earth, cinnamon, a meadow in early summer, the savoury smell of the stew one of his dads used to make

textures: soft grass under bare feet, tree bark, skin on skin, the scratch of ardbert's beard

drinks: water, pineapple juice, lemonade

— O T H E R D E T A I L S

smokes: no

drinks: only socially, and even then it's fairly rare. he did drink a little more often as a baby adventurer, mostly because he simply had more opportunities to do so: mingling was useful and it wasn't uncommon to have a rowdy bar night to celebrate a job well done. he is a bit of a lightweight and tends to withdraw when tipsy/drunk, so he actually has more fun when sober

drugs: also no (unless we're counting medicine for this. he won't be refusing painkillers if he's in pain etc.)

mount issuance: his beloved chocobo, who he dotes on very much, especially because it was something of a dream to have when he was just a baby adventurer - he could not have afforded to buy or maintain one at the time

been arrested: he's got in trouble for those rowdy bar nights - he's not the type to start a fight, but if someone were to pick a fight with him or his friends, by gods, he will be finishing it. no serious jail time, more like being hauled off with everyone else involved to sober up until morning, though

#meme tag #i draw sometimes #sjddskjhs i feel a bit nervous

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bumblesimagines · 10 months

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Midnight Beach

Part 12

Request: Yes or No

Taglist: @nathan-no @hyubg @ash455

~~~

Sitting on top of one of the cargo boxes, he heard the squeal of the doors being pushed shut followed by them being locked. He stared at his dirty sneakers, trying to ignore that he'd just been locked inside a metal box with virtually no way of getting out. An engine started and the container moved, forcing him to grab onto the netting covering the cargo he sat atop. He swallowed and realized his throat was dry. He realized the Pogues hadn't said a single word in the past few minutes. He realized he was stuck sitting inside a metal box with no way of getting out.

Just days ago he'd been sitting on his bed with his laptop heating his thighs as he wrote a lengthy essay for one of his classes. He'd been a normal average teenager on Figure Eight with a normal average life. He went to school, got home to do his homework, and occasionally tagged along to parties hosted on the beach or at a lavish house. But now he wasn't. Now he was sitting in a goddamn metal box among other teenagers who looked oddly calm for such a strange situation. He knew all about the theft, breaking and entering on government property, and the occasional running from cops they did. But to sneak onto a cargo ship to rescue not only their friend but also retrieve a historic artifact? Oh, god, he should've stayed home.

The truck carrying the container stopped, metal clanks coming from above and on the sides. Suddenly, the container rocked, sending Kiara stumbling right into Pope's arm with a soft grunt. (Y/N) nearly fell from his spot, saved by his tight grip on the netting. He adjusted his position and pressed himself back against the secured grate beside him, pressing one hand against the warm metal wall. John B clung onto some yellow straps hanging from the ceiling, groaning quietly when his weight shifted on his bad ankle. JJ tumbled backward, falling onto the ground and hissing softly. He snatched two straps for himself and wrapped them around his hands, using them to stand back up and keep himself balanced.

Men shouted outside, calling out orders and instructions. The container shook one last time, almost flinging around the teenagers before it settled down, the smell of sea salt invading (Y/N)'s nose through the small vents near the top of the ceiling. They were on the ship. They were on the fucking ship. Literal stowaways. (Y/N) released a heavy sigh and leaned back against the box, watching John B creep up to the vent beside him and attempt to look out. Right as he tried to look, a hand slammed against the window and he ducked down, eyes squeezing shut. (Y/N) pressed himself against the wall and brought his knees to his chest, trying to make himself as small as possible in case the worker tried looking inside.

After a couple of minutes that felt like hours, John B peeked again and gave them a thumbs up. (Y/N) released a sigh of relief and his legs slumped. The wall behind him began growing hotter with the scorching sun glaring down at them so he scooted away from it, leaning forward to look out the vent. A light salty breeze went through, fanning his warming face and he relished in it. (Y/N) leaned closer to the vent, squinting through the small flaps. He only saw water for miles ahead. When had the boat started moving? How had they gotten into open ocean so quickly?

"Nice work, John B." JJ breathed, droplets of sweat beginning to race down his skin. Kiara wiped her hand over her forehead, muttering about the heat as she shed her coat. "You know these things lock from the outside, right? We're stuck in here like rats. In this death cage!"

"Okay, JJ, you're not helping."

"You don't have a lot of room to talk right now, Pope. You said you had an idea, but what happened to thinking ahead?"

"I find your lack of self-knowledge disturbing."

"Last I checked-"

"Oh my god, shut up!" Kiara shoved her leg between the two, scowling down at them. The two clamped their mouths shut immediately and lowered their heads, turning away from one another. "Pull it together, alright?"

"Kie's right. Arguing isn't going to get us out of here any faster." (Y/N) sighed and leaned away from the vent, rubbing some sweat off his eyebrow and turning to look down at the Pogues. "We... We should, uhm... check the workers. See if we can figure out how many there are and if they've got shifts. Maybe they'll have lunch somewhere away from here."

"Yeah... Yeah, that makes sense." John B limped to one of the vents, carefully climbing onto a crate and looking out in search of workers. JJ ripped the cap off his head followed by his jacket, carelessly tossing both things aside in a desperate desire to feel cooler. (Y/N) felt parched. He couldn't remember the last time he'd taken a sip of water, or a sip of anything for that matter. He sluggishly got off the crate and eyed the crates around them, hoping at least one carried some sort of refreshment.

"Hey, Pope, how do you kill a snake?" JJ asked abruptly and met Pope's blank stare.

"You go for the head."

"Exactly. But the head, in this instance, is the bridge. To take the bridge, we need maximum firepower. And I happen to know that there's an armory on this ship in case of pirate attacks."

"Pirate attacks..." Kiara repeated quietly and scoffed, rolling her eyes and standing up. "Killing everybody here is not a plan." She told JJ as she brushed past him, heading further into the container as JJ continued his ramble of gathering weapons and taking the ship by force. (Y/N) pinched his shirt between his fingers, shaking it lightly to get a bit of air on his chest and stomach. He took in a couple breaths of air and turned his head upon seeing Kiara moving things around out of the corner of his eye. His brows furrowed and then relaxed, noticing new sunlight pouring into the container from the spot in front of her.

"What'd you find, Kie?" (Y/N) asked quietly and walked toward her. A smile spread across his lips as he took in the large worn-down vent. The screws were partly loose and upon seeing them, JJ fished his pocket knife out and stepped toward it, beginning to twist the screws as Pope and John B joined them.

"The armory-"

"JJ, I don't know how else to put this but the armory is the shittiest plan I've ever heard. There are five of us, six if we count Sarah, versus a whole crew of grown men who definitely know their way around a couple weapons. As far as I'm aware, you and Pope are the only ones who've ever shot off a gun. We could hurt ourselves. We could hurt each other. And the minute Rafe gets his hands on a gun he's going to kill all of us. He might even go after Sarah." (Y/N) spoke, listening to the screws clatter to the floor. "Weapons add a whole other level of danger to this."

"He's right, J. Besides, I think you should stay here. I've got the cross to go after and John B and (Y/N) can go look for Sarah together." Pope shrugged lightly. Hurt flashed in JJ's blue eyes, his pale brows knitting together. (Y/N) reached out and gently grabbed his arm, rubbing his thumb over JJ's wrist and offering him a small smile.

"There's a chance we'll get caught when we go out there. If that happens, we need you and Kie to come get us. There can't be no rescue if we're all trapped." He spoke softly and JJ's eyes softened, though there was still a hint of hurt in them. He begrudgingly nodded and climbed off the small crate, grumbling under his breath and heading back to his previous spot. Kiara patted their backs and gave them a thumbs-up, watching them exit. John B went first, sticking out his upper body. His legs flew up and he grunted, wiggling out of the container. (Y/N) went next and poked his head out of the container, reaching down and planting his hands on the barrels below. He pulled the rest of his body out and hid behind the barrels, waiting for Pope to join them.

Once the three of them were out of the container, Kiara put the grate back on. No turning back now. Not until they had some sort of information or plan. John B took the lead, taking them around the container and toward a staircase. They headed down and he pulled open an emergency door to a ladder leading down deeper into the ship. (Y/N) followed, glancing over his shoulder to ensure Pope was still with them. They walked down the hall, feeling the cool breeze of the ac against their heated skins. (Y/N) kept close to John B, only stopping when Pope caught their attention.

"Hey, hey, I can't," Pope whispered to them, motioning toward a room (Y/N) and John B had breezed past without noticing. Looking inside, (Y/N) spotted a group of men drinking and chatting.

"Yo, man, I gotta hit the head. Might be a while." One of the workers drawled with a beer in hand, looking over his shoulder as he walked toward them. (Y/N) turned and gave John B a quick push, shoving him around the corner and down some stairs as Pope raced back down the hall they'd come from.

(Y/N) followed him down the stairs and into what looked like a laundry room. John B suddenly ducked back, bumping into him and bringing a finger to his lips before mouthing the words 'man' and 'armory'. (Y/N) immediately shook his head but John B only nodded in return, turning back up the stairs and reaching into the room next to the staircase. John B took a small blowtorch and motioned for him to get closer as he lifted it toward the fire alarm. (Y/N) went up the stairs as quietly as possible, ducking behind a corner with John B and waiting for the man in the laundry room to walk up and enter the other room.

When he left, they headed back down the stairs with John B grabbing the emergency axe from the wall. (Y/N) eyes flickered up to the sign pointing to the armory and they followed it, approaching a tall storage unit. John B busted the locks with the axe and the doors flapped open, revealing the guns JJ had spoken about.

"John B-"

"Just in case, Kook Prince." Just as John B reached for a pistol, (Y/N) spotted someone rushing at them from the corner of his eye. He immediately pushed John B out of the way and dodged the swing from the man, moving past him and picking up a fire extinguisher from the floor. John B ducked under the man's arm and when the man turned, (Y/N) slammed the end of the extinguisher against the man's face, hearing a crack and releasing it as the man fell to the ground in pain. John B grabbed his arm and pulled him along down a random hallway until they stumbled out onto a small deck and caught their breaths.

Lifting his head, (Y/N) heard two men speaking above them. "TJ got hurt. Said he saw two guys."

"Alright, let's get this place searched, then. Start on the port side."

"Shit." (Y/N) muttered. His head snapped in the direction of two familiar voices and he walked forward, looking over the railing. His heart skipped a beat at the sight of Sarah and... Ward Cameron. John B joined him, about to speak but the words caught in his throat at the sight of Ward. The father-daughter duo argued, shouting angrily at each other until Sarah stormed away and Ward followed.

"Was that..." John B couldn't finish his question, the name dying on his tongue.

"Yeah..." (Y/N) squeezed his eyes shut. "Ward's alive."

In the distance, at the end of the dock, stood the large white yacht otherwise known as the Druthers. He saw a faint figure standing on the deck, arms waving wildly and a familiar voice calling out to Shoupe. Ward Cameron. (Y/N) cursed again and hurried down the dock, seeing Sarah and her friends amongst the officers standing on the dock pleading with Ward.

Ward disappeared into the yacht and then, it felt as if all time stopped as the Druthers abruptly exploded into flames. Bits and pieces of the boat flew threw the air, littering the water and forcing the patrols on boats to halt. (Y/N)'s feet were heavy, keeping him planted on the dock. He brought a trembling hand to his gaped mouth, widened eyes searching the waters for any sign of the family patriarch. His eyes immediately flooded with ears and he staggered back, unable to find air as his chest constricted. Ward... Ward couldn't possibly be dead... No, (Y/N) had seen him standing on the deck just seconds prior. No, no, no-

A hand squeezed his shoulder and he flinched, spinning around to face Pope and an unfamiliar girl. Pope retracted his hand, a worried frown pulling at his lips. The girl behind him stared at him with narrowed eyes and (Y/N) didn't miss the knife tightly squeezed in her hand. Her gaze shifted onto John B and her features softened considerably, brows lifting in surprise.

"Cheese on bread.." She spoke in an accent (Y/N) didn't recognize, but the familiarity in her voice as she stared at John B told him they had likely met in the Bahamas. John B's eyes widened at the sight of her.

"Cleo?"

"So it is you. What are you doing here, man? This is my boat. I work here now after it got too hot in Nassau because of you and Sarah."

"I-I'll explain later. Right now, we gotta run." Cleo pursed her lips but nodded, tucking away her knife and stepping aside so they could lead.

The four of them snuck back to the container and Pope knocked against the grate, only having to wait a few seconds before Kiara pulled it away. Pope climbed inside, followed by John B and then (Y/N). (Y/N) raised his hand at Kiara to stop her from putting the grate back on and stepped aside so Cleo could enter. She slipped inside, cursing softly under her breath.

"Uh, who is this? John B-"

Taking Kiara by the shoulders, John B spoke quietly to her. "Relax, Kie. This is the girl from the Bahamas that saved Sarah and I, remember? The one I told you about?" Kiara wordlessly nodded, her tense shoulders easing up. Cleo settled down beside them, eyeing JJ as he put the grate back on. She remained guarded and even appeared a bit irritated with the situation. (Y/N) couldn't blame her. Her even knowing them could result in her losing her new job.

"So, uh, Cleo, these are my best friends: JJ, Kiara, and Pope. I've known them for years. They're like family to me." John B introduced each of the Pogues and Cleo nodded to each of them before she turned her attention to (Y/N) and quirked a brow. John B sighed quietly and motioned to him with a wave of his hand. "And this is Sarah's ex."

"Oh?"

"It's complicated." Understatement of the century.

John B and Pope sat down on some of the crates and began relaying everything they saw while simultaneously catching Cleo up on the situation with Sarah. (Y/N) plopped down on a crate of his own, rubbing a hand over his face and absentmindedly listening to the group talk. His muddled mind refused to stop for a moment. Ward survived. He played everyone on the island for Rafe. To save Rafe from being arrested and sentenced. The man who took on a fatherly role when his own father couldn't... selfishly chose to cover for a murderer and cause his daughter a breakdown. (Y/N) took in a deep breath.

"We're not letting Ward get away with everything again. Not happening. We're not watching this movie again, right, Pope?" JJ turned to Pope with a clenched jaw and curled fists, his chest heaving with anger. "You said we needed a win. And with her, we're going to the bridge, and we're gonna take it right now. You with me?"

"I'm with you, and I want to be one who takes the bridge."

"Alright. With Cleo's knife, we can go up to the bridge and hold it against the captain's neck, then we go on the intercom and make him tell the rest of the crew to meet up in the forward hull. Once they're in the same place, bam, we lock them in there, and we take back what's ours." JJ explained his plan and as much as (Y/N) didn't want to admit it, the plan had potential. Pope nodded and turned toward him, raising his brows.

"What are we thinkin', (Y/N)?"

"Well, we're gonna have to rely on whoever takes the bridge and the captain to do his part. Everyone will need to be alert. One distraction or one single fuck up, and we might be the ones locked up. Or worse. It's... It's a helluva plan, J. But I think if we all do our parts and we stick to our roles, we might just be able to do this." (Y/N) replied and reached over to Pope, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I think you'll be able to pull it off. But you'll need to trust Cleo and Cleo needs to trust us."

"I-" Before Cleo could finish speaking, banging sounds came from the front of the container caught their attention. The familiar sound of the locks being undone reached their ears and they turned toward each other with wide eyes. Cleo scrambled up toward the grate and took it off, wiggling through the hole despite their quiet protesting. They fell silent.

"Macias! This one's clear, sir. Nothing but tubing and plastic in there." Relief washed over (Y/N). A distant voice spoke to Cleo, too faint to make out. "Well, they weren't. Come on, we've got work to do. Move your bumper, man." The noise at the front stopped and they released a collective sigh of relief. Cleo returned to the grate and whistled for Pope. He climbed out of the container and off the two went, heading for the captain.

"You think they'll really pull it off?" Kiara asked quietly, sitting down beside (Y/N) and resting her head on his shoulder. Her curls grazed his arm, the sweat making strands stick to his skin. (Y/N) leaned his head against hers and closed his eyes for a moment.

"Yeah," He answered. "I think so."

It took about fifteen minutes before they heard the captain's voice over the speaker, ordering passengers and crew members to head to the tween forward hull. With the plan officially in action, everyone climbed out of the container and split up. Kiara and JJ went off down below to lock the crew in the forward hull while (Y/N) and John B searched for Sarah and a lifeboat. (Y/N) and John B entered one of the hallways, checking each room for any sign of Sarah. They jiggled door knobs and called her Sarah, heading deeper into the ship.

"Sarah?" John B called out as they headed down into a hot room full of machinery. He went to step further inside only for a hook to appear inches from him, followed by Rafe's face. John B's breathing turned shakey and he staggered backward. (Y/N)'s chest squeezed and he felt the hair on his body stand, his heartbeat beginning to pick up. His shoes felt heavy and the room temperature felt as if it spiked. (Y/N)'s clammy hands found John B's arms and he pushed the teen behind him.

"Go find Sarah." (Y/N) quietly told the brunette. Rafe's deranged eyes narrowed, his knuckles whitening as he tightened his grip on the hook. His breathing grew labored, jaw clenching and teeth baring at him.

"But-"

"Go!" (Y/N) barked at him and with a lingering glance, John B took off toward the staircase off the side of the room. Rafe's eyes locked onto him like a predator and he went to follow only for (Y/N) to step in his way. His hands shot out and grabbed onto the handle of the hook, pushing it back against Rafe and forcing him to stumble backward. A frustrated grunt escaped Rafe and he suddenly shoved (Y/N) back, making his grip loosen. He stumbled over his own feet and fell back onto the ground, groaning softly. He quickly rolled out of the way as Rafe brought the hook down near his head and used the railing beside him to get back up, pants escaping him in small bursts.

"It wasn't supposed to go like this, (Y/N)! We were supposed to be a team!" Rafe shouted in a mix of anger and desperation, lifting the hook up. "But you just had to go and join those fuckin' Pogues."

"I wanted the best for you, Rafe." (Y/N) breathed out, eyes pricking with tears.

"Why'd you leave, then, huh? Why'd you leave me?" The blonde asked hoarsely, taking a step forward and scowling when (Y/N) took one back. (Y/N) held onto the side of the railing, gaze flickering between Rafe's face and the hook in his hands. He couldn't see his old 'friend' anymore, no, all he could see was an animal itching to lunge at him, ready to tear him apart.

"I thought you cared about me." (Y/N) swallowed and continued to back up slowly. His body trembled lightly and every muscle in him wanted to recoil away from Rafe. The blonde sneered and brought the hook down on the railing, the clang of metal meeting metal making (Y/N) flinch. Rafe's chest continued to heave, droplets of spit slipping down his chin.

"I did fucking care for you! I took care of you when nobody else did! I watched out for you, I took you under my wing! I fucking loved you and you stabbed me in the back! You chose Sarah over me over and over and over again and I'm sick of it!" Rafe shouted at him, repeatedly slamming the hook against the railing with each word. Rafe wiped his hand over his cheek, hair falling over his eyes and mouth parted to suck in deep breaths of air. "You chose her... You..."

"I know... I... I know, Rafe. I'm sorry." His voice came out strained.

"You keep choosing her... and guess what? She'll always choose John B over you." (Y/N)'s legs stopped, keeping him rooted in his spot. (Y/N)'s eyes lowered onto the floor, unable to shake off the genuineness in Rafe's words. Rafe wanted to hurt him, to cut him with his words. But he said them with all the honesty in the world. And (Y/N) believed it. Sarah had done it before. She'd likely do it again. The tip of the hook hit the ground, dragging along as Rafe got closer to him. The pipe near them began to squeal obliviously, puffs of smoke slipping out from the crack in it.

"Rafe-"

"I'm still willing to forgive you, (Y/N)..." Rafe admitted quietly, his free hand raising up to cup (Y/N)'s cheek. The pipe began shaking wildly. "You can come with us. You can... be one of us. Those Pogues will never love you like I did.. like I do. They'll turn their backs on you the minute they don't need you anymore. You're not one of them. You're one of us."

"You don't hurt the people you love, Rafe." (Y/N)'s lips quivered as he spoke, raising his hands to shove Rafe away and step back as the pipe burst, a mix of smoke and fire shooting out from it. He turned and bolted up the stairs, hearing Rafe's angered shouts and screams booming from behind him. He ran blindly through the halls until he burst through one of the doors, colliding with the railing outside. He panted and looked over the water, spotting the lifeboat. John B and Sarah had already gotten on, arms outstretched toward Cleo and Pope who swam toward them and climbed on.

Fuck.

With nowhere else to go, (Y/N) climbed over the railing and jumped. The cold of the water shocked him, legs and arms kicking wildly until he got to the surface and gasped for air. He coughed up some water, slipping under again for a moment. He forced his body to work with him and resurfaced, his burning arms and legs trying to take him toward the lifeboat. Cleo caught sight of him and called out to him, leaning over the edge of the lifeboat and extending her arm out toward him.

"Come on, man! I gotchu!" She shouted reassuringly and when he got close enough, she grabbed his arm with both hands and pulled him closer. Pope reached over and grabbed his other arm, helping Cleo drag him onto the lifeboat. (Y/N) climbed inside and coughed, leaning against the edge and going limp against it. His head tilted back to look up at the bright sky above them as John B steered the lifeboat toward where JJ and Kiara were last seen. Sarah appeared in his vision, her hair appearing brown from being soaked. She delicately cupped his face, searching him for injuries.

"Are you okay?"

"Never better." He grunted, forcing himself to sit up. Sarah weakly smiled and pressed her lips to his forehead, a tear rolling down her cheek. (Y/N) wiped it away with the tip of his knuckle and chuckled softly, rubbing the side of her arm and turning his head to look out toward the ship. The lifeboat went around it as John B frantically called out for his missing friends until Cleo pointed them out. Kiara attempted to keep an unconscious JJ above water but in her weakened state, she kept slipping under. John B steered the lifeboat toward them and pulled up beside them, reaching in to pull JJ out of the water. Cleo and Sarah reached for Kiara and dragged her onto the lifeboat alongside JJ.

With everyone onboard, John B turned the lifeboat around and sped away only for the engine to sputter. (Y/N) looked toward the boat, seeing Rafe with a gun in hand pointed right at them. John B attempted to get the engine to work again as Kiara pleaded with the still unconscious JJ, begging him to wake up and attempting to stop the bleeding on his temple with her hand. (Y/N) kept his eyes trained on the eldest Cameron but Rafe never pulled the trigger, even when the engine came back to life and the boat continued its escape. JJ violently coughed up water and Kiara turned him on his side, rubbing his back until he was done. JJ slumped back and grinned up at them weakly. Pope turned toward the ship and watched the cross be heaved back onboard after his failed attempt to sink it.

"This shit ain't over."

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writing-envy · 9 months

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Writing snippet (Thrawn x Reader)

One time I was writing this for a bigger story, but now I don't really know what to do with it. Please tell me what you think; pointers and critique is appreciated!! ALSO, I was experimenting with an AU where Thrawn is an officer in the Republic, so bear with me.

Word count: 1,268

CW: mediocre writing, talk about intercourse, some bad words, break in (lmao), lack of ideas.

Clicks at the lock pad echoed in an empty hallway of an apartment complex in the upper levels of Corusant. The dimly lit corridor was devoid of any other residents, quiet and slightly menacing. Although you’d rather it remained that way, the less people saw you come in the better. Especially after the receptionist had been side-eyeing you for visiting at such strange hour.

It would’ve been far more suspicious to force my way in or even pretend to be a resident you thought. Still, not your best work. With that thought in mind you continued to fiddle with the door’s lock and after a few seconds, they opened to reveal the inside of the room.

The apartment wasn’t the most extravagant you’d ever seen; regular loft space, with neatly made bed, vacuumed sofa cushions that were lacking in pillows you’d usually see in the living rooms in holovid programs. The kitchen was presumed unused, the surface clean from any traces of cooking, but you could see the rags drying on the cabinets’ handles. They were wrinkled and with damp spots on them. Otherwise the apartment looked almost uninhabited, as if you’d walked in expected to be given a tour of the place by the real estate agent.

Considering Thrawn’s character, you’d expect nothing less; a spotless space for a thorough and focused person like he. And you had to admit, he had chosen a home with a great view.

The city-planet’s skyline was visible through the three big, connecting windows. The capital of the Republic was especially beautiful at this time of day. Or night, as it really was. You moved closer to admire the view; skyscrapers littering the surface, lanes of ships and speeders cutting in between them. The neon lights reflecting from the glass buildings, creating a mirage on the grey concrete structures at the base of them. From here you could see one of the tunnels leading to the lower levels, where such a sight exists only in the imagination of the inhabitants.

All so beautiful, but only from afar you thought as you moved away from the window, further into the apartment. For a second you debated looking around for any hidden weapons but finally deciding not to, you’d be able to sense them anyway if he were to use them. Which he wouldn’t you retorted yourself. You broke into his house already, going though Thrawn’s personal belongings would’ve only made him angrier.

Well, maybe I want him to get angry — . You stopped yourself before you finished that thought. Tonight you’re just here to talk.

With that you seated yourself on the armchair in the dark corner, with his thermal vision Thrawn would be able to spot you without a problem. As you sat there and waited, you pondered the events that led you here. If you were honest with yourself, you’d never expected to find yourself in a situation like this; sure, you’ve had hook ups with a few fellow Jedi, but never the ones you closely worked with. Especially not after you’ve left the temple five years ago. This was most peculiar, since you never would’ve guessed that Thrawn found you attractive or that you brought out feelings in him, other than annoyance that he displayed so frequently in your presence.

I suppose frustration is to blame. He got so frustrated with me that he fucked me on the floor of a supply closet. No big deal, not at all. Not that I liked it or anything, after all I’m just here to talk this out. Yeah, just to talk.

The weak defence of your actions that brought you here was interrupted with the sound of the door to the apartment sliding open and a figure emerging form the very hallways you stood hours ago. Have I been waiting for so long?

Just as he entered, Thrawn froze in the entryway, the door sliding shut behind him. A few beats of silence passed and then he spoke with a strained voice.

“I hope you know you’ve ruined any plan of attack you had by sitting exactly where I can see you.” He said, clearly stating that he could see where you were in complete darkness, where most people would fail to notice you. But then again, he’s not most people.

“It’s on purpose. If I’d been trying to kill you, you’d never see me coming.” You rebuked, dramatically. He only scoffed and for the first time since entering moved to turn on the lamp next to the sofa.

“I have a hard time believing that.” The sudden brightness and his comment caused you to frown at him. He was now sitting on the opposite of you on the sofa and looking around his apartment as if to determine if everything was in place, just as he left it. He continued. “Although nothing seems amiss I have to ask, did you search my home?”

“As if I’d find anything interesting here, no. Did you expect me too?”

It took him a second to reply as his gaze settled on you.

“No.”

This wasn’t a declaration of trust but of caution; he knows you’re not that stupid. At least he didn’t think that low of you.

“Why are you here?” His words came so suddenly and pointedly, you almost felt surprised he cut the chase so quickly. You wondered which version of the story he would buy; now you regretted spending this time pondering about dumb shit, you really should’ve thought about a better excuse than ‘just to talk’. A second later you answered.

“Would you believed me I missed you?”

The silence was deafening, really out of all the things you could’ve said, this is what you came up with?

“I believe you need to leave, I’ve had a long day and I’d rather go to bed than deal with you”.

The way he venomously spit the last part had you hesitating but you’d decided to proceed.

“Sorry, I just came to talk”.

“Really, I don’t want to hear it. Go home.”

An exasperated sigh ripped from your chest as you rebuked.

“I want to have sex with you again.”

That statement had him paused in the middle of the room, while looking at you like you had grown a second head. Clearly he whatever he was expecting wasn’t this. Thrawn stopped for a second just looking at you and any sigh of falsehood in your features. You were quick to follow.

“We don’t have to! I just thought… you know. Only if you’re okay with that.” All traces of confidence had dissipated, stumbling with words you continued. “I know I said that- you know- that there won’t be a second time. Well, I’m here now. So- you know- if-uhhh- you’re okay with that, I would like to have sex with you again.”

Oh the Force help me, what was the most embarrassing, dick hungry, pathetic proposal that had ever left my mouth. Any second now, he’s gonna laugh and I will die on the spot. Why did I say that?! I’ve never been more embarrassed in—

“Okay.”

Hold on. Okay?

You finally focused on his face. He was serious.

“Just like that? Really?” you asked trying to cover your embarrassment.

“Just like that.” He simply stated. Before you could react he was in front of you. He had a few centimetres on you so you had to look up to meet his red gaze. “Next time you try asking me to fuck you, just knock.” And just like that his lips were on yours, passionately kissing away your embarrassment.

#star wars #thrawn #thrawn x reader #grand admiral thrawn #writing #my writing #my fic #critique #ao3 #pointers are appreciated!#begginer writer

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briasfreespace · 8 months

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Black Artist Exploration: The Illustrious Janelle Monáe

photos sourced by @themakeupbrush

(Before we begin, Janelle is nonbinary and uses she/they pronouns, and therefore, she and they will be used interchangeably)

In each of her distinct eras as a musician, @janellemonae has not only risen to the occasion but brought something extraordinary out of their listeners. They make music for what they're going through and what they're looking for. At every stage of their career, they unboxed new characters and new stories. New challenges for her audience to address in themselves and furthermore liberate themselves from. Monae is not only looking to take up space but to nurture a community for all the arch-androids and pleasure seekers out there. She is a Sagittarius doing right by the stars, liberating people through new ideas and perspectives, and guiding us to the new age.

🤖🤖🤖🤖🤖🤖🤖The Wonderful Janelle Monae🤖🤖🤖🤖🤖🤖🤖🤖

Born Dec 1st in Kansas City, Kansas, Janelle Monae Robinson felt she was destined to be a star. They grew up in the church and theatre, always looking for new opportunities to show off their talent. They have described themselves on numerous occasions as ¨a free-ass motherfucker.” This free-ass personalities genesis started when she was young. Janelle often struggled with her early religious background which had an undesirable effect on her, into adulthood. She was once escorted out of church for singing Michael Jackson´s ¨Beat It.¨ The restrictions she often felt as a kid, is what helped evolve her into a liberated musician and adult.

After high school, they moved to NYC to study at the American Musical and Dramatic Academy for musical theatre. During her time there, she recognized that this was not the place for their talents to flourish. She explained to the Guardian´s Dorian Lynskey,

"I felt like that was a home but I wanted to write my own musicals. I didn't want to have to live vicariously through a character that had been played thousands of times – in a line with everybody wanting to play the same person."

She also acknowledged a lack of diversity drove her out of the school, and she made her way to Atlanta. This was the start of her career and where she would meet some very important names in Hip Hop and R&B. When they lived in Atlanta, they stayed in a boarding house and worked at Office Depot. She performed anywhere she could, including the library steps of Clark-Atlanta, Morehouse, and Spelman -all HBCUs. She would end up being fired from Office Depot, where says she was ¨pushing ink.¨ Ironically, she was fired for attempting to reach out to a fan on their computers. This was a push-comes-to-shove situation where she knew it was time to be all in.

Bria speaking: This exact fucking thing happened to me this year, and bitch, im still getting shoved. But I´m figuring it out every step of the way. For any of my creatives out there who are still trying to get their footing, Janelle´s story is for all of us.

The shove helped her create a song called ¨Lettin' Go,¨ off her 2003 demo The Audition, which brought her attention from none other than Big Boi. She would later be featured on OutKast´s Idlewild, and continued to be featured on a few other projects until in 2006, she signed to Bad Boy Records. This began the professional career of the artist Janelle Monáe.

The Era´s

Merriam-Webster defines an Era as a period identified by some prominent figure or characteristic feature or a stage in development (as of a person or thing)

Just to let y´all know, I am not going into intricate detail on these albums because we would be here all day. 😭

However, maybe I'll study the specific eras of artists in detail for another post, but not today.

The Android era, Cindi Mayweather, and Metropolis

In this era, everything is mechanic, robotic, and Black and white. This era begins with the first EP Metropolis: Suite 1 (the Chase). Here we were introduced to Cindi Metropolis, Janelle´s alter ego, who is an android from 2719. The records from this era, up to Electric Lady, introduce Janelle´s ideology, style, and most importantly the talent they have for world-building in audio and video. Archandroid and ¨We Are Young¨ (2011) were where I was introduced to them, and I have been a fan ever since. For more than half my life, I have loved her talent and their ability to step in and out of androgeny. There are features from Prince, Solange, Erykah Badu, and Miguel.

Dirty Computer and The Memory Librarian (2018)

Dirty Computer (2018) is my favorite era because this is the conclusion of all of the world-building she created in her previous era. This album is all about deconstructing ideologies imposed upon us through the hegemony otherwise known as the owners of the narrative. It´s about acknowledging the harm society has done to brainwash us into feeling shame about our sexualities and general expression. This is the era where Janelle would come out as bi-sexual, acknowledging her own shame around who she was becoming. I really recommend not only listening to the album but watching the film. They also co-wrote a book called The Memory Librarian, which is a collection of short stories that integrated the concept of Afro-Futurism -the integration of black culture and history into concepts of the future. Basically we been Black, will stay Black, and will forever be Black.

The Age of Pleasure and The Tig ole Bitties (2023)

This is the newest album of Janelle´s that caught her a lot of flack. She decided to show her breasts to the world, and many people were not so happy about this. I think her titties are pretty and most would agree. Unlike her earlier eras, this is where she completely omitted the outside world. She is talking about sex, seeking out sex, and partying after a time of the whole world being locked inside. This is where her ideas of liberation hit its pinnacle. You break out the system, and now time to party & fu...

Her influences

Janelle has cited Prince -someone who was a mentor and friend of hers, Sun Ra, Michael Jackson, Grace Jones (a recent collaborator), Quincy Jones, Pam Grier, Tina Turner, David Bowie, Parliament-Fundelics, Stevie Wonder (another collaborator,) Brian Wilson and so many more. Janelle is an artist who knows that to elevate, you need a background, you need a history. If you can´t name the artists before you, who will name you when you're gone. The moral of the story: Study your heroes and icons. You may even get to work with them one day.

Signing off,

B the Virgo

Sources:

For specific links from within the Wikipedia page, make sure you look at the footnotes. It was super duper helpful.

#janelle monae #sagittarius #virgo #music #black music #age of pleasure #dirty computer #black artist #magazine cover #Spotify

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unproduciblesmackdown · 10 months

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oh, Mordecai having some romantic feeling about Atlas is so delicious. Adds inherent internal conflict -- Mordecai's dad is dead, Atlas may have thought of himself as stepping into a pseudo parental role (even if it was only as a manipulation tactic). Mitzi helping Mordecai with new clothing is an almost familial act, but also he's competing with her for atlas's attention (which is romantic attention for mitzi)! Very fucked up, I love it. thinking about it feels like getting tazed.

right! all about the Drama and that [lol that would be very fucked up. i love it] element

like we Could just suppose mordecai peaced (violenced) out of lackadaisy based just on the Business considerations of marigold now being the sole large & relatively stable operation around, and that he's now moved to dig into things only because he's worried about, what, arrest for murder (which would have Been a concern re: "murder is a not insubstantial part of your job" the whole time, but)....but it's more Enriching if he gets personal character motivations that aren't solely practical concerns, so you gotta imagine that's how it really is

and like what's (so likely i just assume it's true, and) important is just that mordecai has some kind of very motivating emotional attachment to atlas out here, and given that he's not forthcoming about that and atlas is (a) dead and (b) also not forthcoming in his fleeting, mysterious appearances, any details have to be speculation, but aren't Needed to suppose that that emotional significance is there....i assume the most common theory re: wondering what atlas meant to mordecai is that mordecai was like "that's my dad" and ofc with the lack of specific info we can't say that's Not the case lol. it would also be hilarious anytime there's like unilateral [that's my dad] that is never acknowledged / taken on by that would-be dad lmfao....and ofc it's possible that atlas is the one with the unilateral [that's my son] especially by virtue of assuming the figurative role of Patriarch as less mere "is this my begotten son" and more "i'm a Man who is In Charge of this group of people. meanwhile mitzi and mordecai truly can get in on some "familial" dynamic like particularly on the basis of "people who are stuck together (in this house, in this job, in this group you're supposed to belong to all your life)" and their being Rivals re: atlas in one way or another making them like frenemies out here is great, and that now they are plausibly frenemies who are also the only people who can understand each other's depression is even better lmfao. still thinking it was mitzi (wife) asa (friend) and mordecai (???) at atlas's funeral for sure

meanwhile it's really not difficult to imagine that mordecai could feel some type of way about atlas when it's like, people are gay, it also Is difficult to imagine a More emotionally impactful introduction to someone / establishment of their role in your life than "thinking your own murder is imminent and even that atlas was someone about to kill you Now but then it turns out that this guy absolutely out of nowhere basically saves your life even though he just spared you a revolver"....i do generally assume that atlas related to most everyone around him in that opportunistic way, that, like in taking on viktor, atlas sees someone backed against a wall here, and if they can shoot their way out of it then he has this potential hire who now owes him their life and has that ability to fight their way out of a situation in which others are trying to kill them and still doesn't have any other options, and, like pretty much everyone, continues to have few options as they get involved in the organized bootlegging world, the other paths are closed to you....but, of course, mordecai may not have ever been confronted with that hypothetical reality of how atlas related to Him, and not really have pushed to make his Own hypothetical feelings about atlas manifest as more than like, being that ferocious little shadow, nbd just an important, fave employee, and of course there's atlas being married not long after....not some amazing situation, but regardless of any further specifics, we can presume that it's as big a deal as anything to mordecai that Someone is on his side at all and helping him out, even just on the level of like, on his side of "not dying" and helping him with "not dying," and he's taking what he can get out here, aren't they all

and just some more "wow. wild" visuals like, such as The Following peak dramatic introduction and how it's like okay you could at least imagine it Could be the kind of thing mordecai feels differently about than like [literally dadcore] lol

meanwhile always going "wow....wild" about this bit

just before he's also like "i'll kill you" at the suggestion that he was Romantically Involved with mitzi lmao....i do not imagine that mordecai was ever living with atlas but it's like, how much bodyguarding was done, to what extents. certainly could imagine him getting close enough to escort people to their homes, doors of apartments or hotel rooms, could imagine sometimes staying in those places too....real "why are you, as a man, aware of another man's living situation and the status of his marriage's deterioration" moments lmao. even when it's like, well yeah he's quite literally Close to atlas whenever being like a personal guard type situation, and presumably being privy to a lot re: business, and even some of the personal. and it's also a question of, supposing atlas did have a part in his own death, What atlas's motivations would be....evidently it wasn't great for lackadaisy that he died, or for mitzi, and what benefits could atlas reap directly by his dying when yknow then that'd mean that he was dead....gotta suppose if he Did go "look, most trusted employee who's already privy to a lot and maybe i also trust b/c i know you Care A Lot: you gotta kill me" it's more likely that he Was motivated more sentimentally than like ruthless business boy style out here. maybe mitzi wasn't living with him after some opportunity she pursued too far evidently fucked some things up, but atlas would still be like "well the things are already fucked up, and also i'll die to get mitzi out of some impending further consequences of it" maybe. maybe it was that atlas was just Sure he'd be killed, and so he had mordecai be the one to do it rather than live in suspense and not get to pick the time and place and be killed right off rather than hoping that enemies lurking around every corner both can & will make it a quicker less painful death

and it's like, hand to forehead, oh lord The Drama to suppose atlas told mordecai "okay. you gotta kill me :/" and mordecai is kind of in love with him or something and yet still has to go "okay :/" and then do it and then he and atlas's now-widow, who he kind of hates and is now the one other person who knows what went down and who he'll attend the funeral with, can be [hand to forehead] about it together....not like there's no drama in mordecai going "i have the worst luck re: my dads dying, ugh" in this scenario either lmao but it Could instead be like This and it Would be all the more agonizing. gotta kill this guy you love who you knew was never exactly gonna return that even beyond "i mean, to what extent did he Love his actual wife, even if it's a [nonzero] answer" and who would entrust you with this task b/c he not only knows you Could do it but that you Would....which also leads me to the postscript of this theory, that atlas also could've just leveraged that "however anyone felt about it presumably mordecai was Technically only ever Officially: atlas's employee of the month" and also basically made it a Professional Order to be the one to kill him. sure thinking about how mordecai repeatedly, including in his introduction, goes "it's really important for me to have a consistent and rigorous approach to Doing My Job that isn't based on going 'yahoo wippee i'm having so much fun' b/c I'm Really Not, i do not like any of this" like hmmm! might be the kind of important, emphasized perspective of a character who was like "yeah i had to kill my boss who i loved and i deal with that by being all-in on 'i don't do this because i enjoy it'" while others are like wow mordecai why don't you Seem to enjoy this either way more or way less? what a weirdo. and he's like, literally i just work here. anyways imagining the like "mitzi and mordecai hanging out in silent crisis together in the Depression Café immediately after mordecai killed atlas b/c atlas arranged that and both of them were aware of this and mitzi was married to him and mordecai was his right hand man and now their frenemies forever competitive status is that classic 'we might never even talk now but we'll just share a lifelong secret maybe, you know how it is' and in this scenario i also do imagine mitzi would be aware how mordecai felt, gayly. a ton of fun"

#lackadaisy #mitzi and mordecai murder mystery #for thee drama of it all...

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littlemisskookie · 8 months

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Crocodile Tears: Ch 2 Teaser

Crocodile Tears: Index Ship: Stoner!Reader | Stoner!BTS Description: You accidentally eat brownies with aphrodisiacs in them. Even worse one of your asshole friends catch you reading smut to cope, and decides to airdrop your collection of your dirtiest fantasies to the rest of the house. Just your luck. Warnings: (In future) Dub-Con, Degradation, Humiliation, Dom!Taehyung, Sub!Reader, A/B/O Roleplay, Choking, Chokehold, Slapping, High Sex, Intercourse, Primal Play, outdoor Sex, Kinkshaming?, Overstimulation, Creampie, Breeding Kink, Multiple Orgasms, Edging, Taehyung has a ridiculously big penis, lots of ABO names used a lot so if you don’t like that skip, Weed Word Count: 1.5k something A/N: sorry for the wait. Here’s this!

There seemed to be a knowing glint in Jungkook's eyes when you say that. "I think there's a bong on the back porch. Why don't you check over there?"

You were not granted the liberty of being alone, however, when you stepped onto the back porch.

"Oh, Taehyung, sorry to bother you."

He rubbed the fabric of your hoodie between his fingertips. "I don't remember you wearing this earlier."

"Got it from the, uh, laundry room." Not a lie.

"Oh? Why? It's summer, and it's so hot out here. Aren't you too hot in this?"

"I'm fine, really, I was cold earlier."

"Are you cold now?"

"Well, no-"

"Take it off."

You felt the heat rise to your cheeks as his fingertips lightly brushed over the hickeys Jungkook left, leaving goosebumps in his wake. "I- um, I can explain-"

"Who were you in the laundry room with, Y/N?"

As though a deer frozen in the headlights, you felt caught. "I..."

Taehyung's featherlight touches became more sure and firm, his hand as now curling around the column of your throat with unquestioning authority. "Be a good girl and tell me."

You gulped, feeling your throat move under the pressure of his palm, unable to resist holding in the secret."Jungkook," you softly admitted.

Taehyung hummed, his pointer finger lightly tapping against the temple of your neck. "Figures that asshole would go before me."

You gasped in shock, eyes widening as you realize just what Taehyung had probably been doing on his phone when you walked in. "You know?"

He flashed his teeth, a smile gracing his features as he took in your surprise. "Mhm. Jungkook showed me it, said you airdropped it to him. Big reader, huh?"

#Crocodile tears #bts #bts smut #taehyung smut #smut #taeyhung #kim taehyung #taehyung fanfiction #bts fanfiction

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sortyourlifeoutmate · 3 months

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I continue to hate polls. Polls, that is, not poles or Poles, those are fine. Polls though? Fucking useless.

Observe:

Oh? That so? How'd you figure that?

The King's College London study found 66% of children in state schools, aged six to 12, had a positive view of the royals, compared with 56% in private. Overall it found higher levels of support for the monarchy among children than among teenagers and young adults. The findings were based on questions for 2,000 pupils across 200 schools.

Wow! So from a sample size of basically fucking no-one, you discovered that children are more likely to approve of the shiny, sparkly kings and queens? Hey, maybe you should have asked them if they thoughts unicorns were real too!

It is not until the over-50 age range where a majority say the monarchy is good for the country, according to the long-running survey, which overall found 52% backing the royals. But this latest university study has looked at an earlier stage and found a majority of primary school children had a positive response to the monarchy, in terms of making them feel "happy", "excited" or "proud". On average, the study found 65% support for the monarchy from this representative group of primary schools, with the highest levels of 68% in faith schools.

I know it's important to verify things you just assume, but A) Fucking polls asking a handful of people and out of that extrapolating the situation for MILLIONS OF OTHER PEOPLE B) For your next trick are you going to poll water to see if it's wet?

But the big picture, according to lead researcher Dr George Gross, is to provide a more "nuanced" understanding of how attitudes shift over time. He says there has been a view that people become more "traditionalist" as they grow older and that is reflected in rising support for the monarchy. However, he says the latest findings in primary schools show a more complicated picture. "Our initial poll results certainly challenge the idea or consensus that the monarchy lacks support amongst younger people," says Dr Gross.

No! Your fucking survey demonstrates that children like the royals more than kids who have started to grasp the world! I don't want to talk down to five-to-ten-year-olds but they do not, perhaps, have a sufficient view of things to form an untarnished view on the position of the modern British monarchy! Or monarchy in general! You ever seen a fucking Disney film? Children have! How are you a doctor?

The support among children is closer to the most pro-monarchy age group, which is the over-65s.

There has ever been a curious link between those getting towards the elderly side of things and those on the very young. This is just another one. And, again, it's not complicated.

Dr Gross says it raises questions into what changes attitudes between the ages of 12 and the 18 to 24-year-old age group.

Does it?! Look out a fucking window, doctor! Read a fucking newspaper! Maybe try counting on your fucking fingers!

Royal historian Ed Owens said: "It is once these children hit adulthood that disillusionment with the monarchy starts to set in. The 18-to-24s have never been so sceptical about the benefits of constitutional monarchy." The royal author said this should be "set against a deeper disenchantment" about issues facing their generation, such as unaffordable housing and student debt, which he says means young people are rejecting the "political and social status quo", including the monarchy.

See? This guy gets it! It's not complicated!

Argh!

Anyway, I look forward to the next survey of two dozen random dickheads that can then be reported as conclusive proof of some shit that doesn't change shit for shit.

Fuck.

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blixarchiviumofwishes · 11 months

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You can't escape it.

The behavior I will call "human reaction to circumstance", is everywhere. It cultivates the way you think, respond to situations, evaluate them, etc, and the same for those around you. Of course everyone is different, and has been brought up and impacted differently by their surroundings.

What I find intriguing is an individual's response to a certain situation. Let's look at a few examples.

Joe is a teenage boy, just about to start his senior year of private highschool. Joe is well liked by his teachers, and earns good grades. He is also an athlete on the school baseball team. During the final game of the season, Joe strikes out, leading his team to a crushing loss, or so he views it. Joe's Coach tells him not to be bothered by it, he can try harder next year. However, the teenager beats himself up about it, saying he should have done better, he shouldn't have missed the pitch, and that it's all his fault, despite there being several strikes during the game.

Tyler is an older man searching for work. He's single, with only a widowed mother to take care of. Tyler has sent in multiple applications to many firms of varying fields. He believes he can master any field if someone just gives him a chance. When a few of his forms are rejected, he picks himself up and tries again.

Ann is a working mother of three, and has been married for ten years. She is very lenient with running her household, which leads to messes around the house, and her children leaving work undone. She makes several attempts to train them how to be responsible with the help of her husband, but the children always revert to their bad habits, leading to arguments and punishment.

I apologize if these examples are unrelatable or bland.

After reading the scenarios, ask questions. What led Joe to react to the team's loss the way he did?

Why did Tyler respond the way he did after getting rejected?

Why is Ann blatantly hypocritical?

"Human reaction to circumstance" defines how and why these people reacted the way they did. The University of New Hampshire provides a means of understanding this phenomenon with a simple acronym.

A - Activating event (usually imprinted in the memory): what happened in either of the subjects past that may have influenced their interaction with the people and circumstances around them?

It's possible Joe's parents have very high expectations of their son, and have strict boundaries on what is success and what is failure. Living under such conditions would either put Joe under constant stress, or desensitize him from their demanding mindset.

It is possible that Tyler was taught at a young age, either by more experience, or his parents that life won't always work out, and that he must keep trying, even when everything seems to be going wrong.

It is also possible Ann's parents never paid attention to their daughter's uncaring attitude when it came to cleanliness, and she, as a result, unknowingly passed it on to her children. Since her parents never saw a problem with her messes, she doesn't realize she's the reason her children are messy the way they are.

B - Belief: religion often has a part in how devoted a person is to success, or traditional values, such as persevering and cleanliness (or lack thereof.)

C - Consequences: How the figures presented deal with their situations based on what they've gone through in the past, and the events, good or bad, that follow as a result.

It all stems down to the mind. The mind is easily moldable, especially during vulnerable periods of our lives. Combined with your personality (influenced by experience to a degree) this creates this psychological reaction.

Thank you for reading, if you have any questions, don't hesitate to ask, I'll do my best to answer.

Please don't quote me, I'm not a trained Psychologist.

UNH PACS. “What Triggers Your Emotional and Behavioral Reactions?” Psychological & Counseling Services, 15 Feb. 2023, www.unh.edu/pacs/what-triggers-your-emotional-behavioral-reactions.

#psychology #mental health #study blog #just stuff #development #stress response

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emilykaldwen · 2 years

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(so I’m ranting a little at @inmydrcams and working this thought process out in two places lmao)

not me sitting here glaring at the lack of micro level development in Fire & Blood trying to figure out what to do for Abrogail. The marriage to Erwin makes sense for Corrynna (even though we technically don’t know how he’s a Lannister, IDGAF). While the odds of Erwin become Lord of Casterly Rock are INCREDIBLY slim, and with Corrynna being from a minor house, it’s a good match because her father is Hand of the King, the Strongs are a super good family, good marriage choice. etc etc.

(If Larys is going full Littlefinger vibes here - Arguably you could say that either the twins are killed off during the war so Erwin becomes Lord, or their children marry into that direct line)

After Rhaena's death, the lordship was granted to Ser Bywin Strong, the brother of Ser Lucamore Strong of the Kingsguard.

House Strong held Harrenhal throughout the remainder of the reign of King Jaehaerys, and throughout the reigns of kings Viserys I and Aegon II Targaryen. Following the death of Lord Lyonel Strong, along with his eldest son and heir, Ser Harwin, in a fire at Harrenhal in 120 AC, the lordship passed to his younger son Lord Larys Strong, who continued to hold the title despite losing the castle temporarily to Prince Daemon Targaryen during the Dance of the Dragons.

So here’s some issues:

1. After Lyonel and Harwin die, Larys is Lord of Harrenhal. Because he’s on the Council, he can’t be there. There’s nothing stating he gets married, so

2. Do we assume then that Corrynna and her husband go to take care of Harrenhal? Does Larys plan to pass the castle to her children on his death? What’s going on here? Because this entire show is about inheritance laws and it seems like every region/culture has their own inheritance rules.

3. There’s no mention that after Daemon (The Blacks) captures the castle he kills everyone (I’m assuming on behalf of his stepchildren). BUT THEN When Aemond (The Greens) retake it, he kills everyone BUT Alys Rivers.

Re: Alys Rivers. Plot wise it’s just ‘Harrenhal is cursed, lets give it to Alys, lets not look too deep into it’ (it’s not like GRRM was thinking show things, F&B is just him having fun with world building stuff and I appreciate that). So I’m GUESSING we’re meant to assume that Alys is using her weird magic and bewitched Aemond to kill the rest of the Strongs there?

So Aemond goes to take Harrenhal. Larys is for the Greens. Killing every other member of House Strong (and I’m assuming there aren’t that many) is... a weird choice when you look deeper into it because the Strong family have declared for the Greens (regardless of Rhaenyra’s oldest son biologically being a Strong, but legally and on paper, he’s a Targareyn).

So are we meant to assume that Larys’ sisters both died then as well before having any children? The only mention of them is that they were there in King’s Landing. No mention of names, if they too died with their father and brother, etc. And how does Larys deal with that because sorry, it’s fucking WEIRD if he goes ‘welp it’s all good that you killed the rest of my family even though we’re on the same side’.

Claire brought up that Harrenhal is cursed, this all fits vibes, I agree, but now I need to figure out how this situation works. Because down the line,

What is Larys’ motivation? What is happening? WHAT

(also why the fuck is Alicent ALONE. She should have ladies! Her sister in laws? Nieces? Cousins? this is why Abrogail is Alicent’s cousin cause fuck that)

#random post tag #when you wanna world build but the author (rightly) was like 'I don't need to explain all of this'#Also did you know Jenny of Oldstones was the one who said that the Prince Who Was Promised was gonna be from Aerys' line?#I thought that was interesting #ANYWAY #me trying to figure out what's up for my bb Abrogail

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mccdreamys-writes · 25 days

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smiles for miles – 25. my best colors

while the sky turned watercolor pink and gold and blue, and the stars all showed up one by one and we waited for the moon. - Ilse DeLange, Just Like The Moon

N O V E M B E R 1 2 T H 2 0 1 1

The house felt strangely empty without Alex's presence, the silence wrapping around me like a heavy blanket. I knew I had to get used to this solitude, a reality that came with her job—a part of her that I cherished deeply. She was more than just my partner; she was a lover of books, a seeker of justice, and most importantly, the woman who loved me.

Even though the house was quiet when she was away on a case, I held onto the belief that she would come back to me. It was like a mantra I repeated to myself in those lonely moments, a comforting reminder that helped me get through the weeks apart. And she always kept her promise, whether it was by my side in the hospital during my recovery or back home in what she affectionately called 'our house'.

But despite her efforts to make me feel at home in her space, there was still a sense of detachment lingering in the air—a reminder that this sanctuary belonged to her first, and I was just a guest. As I looked around the office she'd given me, I couldn't shake the feeling that it lacked the personal touch that would truly make it ours. "I need to do something about this," I mumbled to myself, making a silent vow to turn this space into a reflection of our life together.

The room felt pretty empty, with just the basics—a solid desk, a single chair, and a few unopened cases, each one hiding a story waiting to be told.

In the midst of this bare space, there was one thing that stood out—a photo sitting proudly on the desk. It was the same one Alex had given me back when I was in the hospital.

With a sigh, I sank into the chair, feeling the weight of my body sink into the worn upholstery with a soft thud. A quiet groan slipped out as I settled in, my back reminding me of the struggles I'd been through. Every move I made came with a dull ache, a reminder of how far I'd come in my recovery.

But despite the discomfort, I pushed through it. Today, I was determined to focus on the tasks ahead and the hope of better days to come, setting aside the pain to keep moving forward.

In my head, I held onto a simple but powerful belief: if I ignored something, it didn't bother me. This idea came from needing to deal with tough times. By not paying attention to the problems in front of me, I felt better thinking they weren't there.

For example, whenever my body hurt, I'd just pretend it didn't.

Living in Washington, I faced a strange situation. All my stuff, the things that meant a lot to me and held memories, were back in Alabama. We kept putting off going to get them because of work. So, they stayed far away, out of reach.

Without my things, I felt lost in the big city. Getting new stuff seemed overwhelming. I didn't know where to start. I wasn't used to shopping or figuring out what I needed. It was like being in a maze with no map.

Adding to my problem was not having a car, which was a big gap in my new life. Thinking about dragging heavy stuff through the busy streets, relying on taxis that never seemed to be where you needed them, just didn't seem worth the hassle.

Even though the internet made everything super easy, I still wasn't into it. Online shopping felt cold and distant to me. I guess I'm old-fashioned, preferring the real-world experience. There's something special about going into a cozy shop, smelling the old books, and feeling the pages between your fingers. It takes me back and makes me appreciate the simple things.

Being stuck in an empty house, the loneliness bouncing off the walls, made me really think. This place didn't feel like home without all my familiar stuff. It was like an empty shell, lacking the warmth and life that makes a home feel alive.

In the heavy quiet around me, I dug deep into my thoughts, finding comfort in reflecting on myself. What made me who I am? What kept me feeling like me in this lonely place?

As I pondered these big questions, one word stood out: poetry. It was like the backbone of who I was, woven into the very fabric of my being. Poetry, with its vivid pictures and rhythmic words, showed me my inner thoughts and gave me hope when things seemed dark.

In the big picture of my life, poetry was the colorful thread that tied together all my different experiences, making them into a story of finding myself and expressing who I am. It was the language I used to understand emotions, turning the tricky parts of being human into beautiful verses that meant something deep.

Filled with determination, I walked into Alex's office, the sound of my steps bouncing off the empty walls. In that familiar place, I looked for what I needed to make my own workspace feel alive.

I ran my hands over shelves and drawers, feeling the excitement build up inside me. Among the paint tubes and brushes scattered around, I saw the potential to turn my dull office into a creative haven.

I picked out what I needed—fresh paper, colorful paints, and a variety of brushes ready to bring my imagination to life. With each item carefully chosen, I set out to express myself, turning my office into a reflection of who I am.

Heading back to my own space, loaded with my tools, I felt powerful. No longer stuck in emptiness and loneliness, I was ready to turn the blank canvas of my office into something vibrant and full of life.

For three whole hours, I was completely absorbed in a world of colors and words. Every brushstroke and scribble was like a piece of my creativity unfolding. Time seemed to stretch on endlessly as I wrestled with turning the blank canvas in front of me into a mirror of my innermost feelings.

At first, I was nervous, filled with doubts about whether I could really pull it off. But as time went on, I let myself go with the flow of creativity. I trusted my instincts to guide me through the vast emptiness of the blank page.

After the first hour passed, I realized something important: I wasn't just an artist. What I was, was a storyteller. My art wasn't about pretty pictures; it was a way to tell stories and share emotions. This realization set me free from the chains of self-doubt and perfectionism that had been holding me back at the start.

Feeling free like never before, I let my hand glide across the paper, each mark showing the realness of my emotions. In that moment of letting go, creating became my refuge. Every stroke and scribble told a story of the thoughts and feelings swirling inside me.

As the last hour ticked away, I took a step back to look at what I'd made—a colorful collage of words and images that spoke volumes about who I was. Even though it wasn't perfect, each brushstroke and pen stroke showed how strong and expressive humans can be.

In the quiet of my makeshift studio, I worked tirelessly on the canvas, lost in the rhythm of colors and the secrets of my soul. Time seemed to slip away as I poured myself into my creation, barely noticing how long I'd been at it.

As I put the final touches on my creation, a feeling of contentment washed over me. It was the result of hours spent completely absorbed in making something special. But just as I stepped back to take it all in, the quiet of the room was shattered by a sudden presence behind me.

I jumped, my heart racing, and spun around to see someone standing there. The unexpected appearance caught me off guard, making me feel like I'd stepped into a strange dream where reality and imagination blurred together.

In my surprise, I gripped the paintbrush tightly, ready to defend myself against this unexpected visitor. For a split second, I even thought about using the paint as a weapon, a primitive response fueled by fear and shock.

But when I looked into Alex's eyes, a wave of relief washed over me, melting away the tension in my body. I sheepishly lowered the paintbrush, feeling a flush of embarrassment at my overreaction.

With a mischievous glimmer in her eyes, Alex couldn't help but laugh at my joke about self-defense. "I should teach you some methods of self-defense," she teased, her laughter filling the room.

I raised an eyebrow in playful doubt, a smile spreading across my face. "My charm is my weapon," I quipped, giving her a wink, knowing it would get a reaction.

Her smirk grew as she came closer, moving with a fluid grace. With a gentle touch, she reached up and wiped a speck of paint from my cheek, leaving a warm sensation in its wake. "Oh absolutely," she murmured softly, her voice sending a shiver down my spine.

As she leaned in, her breath mingling with mine, it felt like everything else faded away, leaving just the two of us in our own little world. With a gentle nudge of her nose against mine, she said everything without saying a word.

"Welcome back," I murmured, barely louder than a whisper as I closed the distance between us.

In that brief moment, it was like time stood still as our lips met in a soft, tender kiss. The feeling of her tongue tracing the outline of my lips sent a thrill through me, sparking a strong desire between us.

Her hands moved with eagerness, tracing the lines of my face and tangling in my hair as if she wanted to hold onto me tight. It was like she wanted to pull me even closer, as if being near me could satisfy the hunger she felt.

Every little thing felt more intense when she was close, from the sweet taste of her lips to the scent that surrounded us like a cozy blanket. Each lingering kiss sparked a hunger inside me, a strong desire that raced through my veins. It was like every part of me was tuned into her touch, every nerve alive with the excitement of being near her.

In that moment, I was completely lost in my love for her. I was captivated by how she made me feel, how good she tasted, how she stirred my senses and captured my heart. I treasured every little thing about her, from the way she touched me to the essence of who she was.

When she let go, I found myself gasping for air, my lungs craving oxygen like they'd been starved. Even though I was still buzzing from her touch, I managed to whisper, "Yeah, welcome back."

Her forehead rested against mine, closing the tiny gap between us. I felt her warm breath mixing with mine, a gentle touch that said more than words ever could. A soft smile played on her lips, filled with the same warmth I felt inside. "I'm so glad to be home," she whispered, her words a quiet melody that filled the space between us with contentment.

As Alex's eyes scanned over me, pausing on the colorful smudges splattered across my face, I could sense her curiosity bubbling just beneath the surface of her question. It felt like she wasn't just asking out of politeness; she genuinely wanted to dig deeper, to uncover the story behind my recent creative pursuits.

"What have you been doing?" she inquired.

In that moment, a realization hit me like a bolt of lightning. The painting I'd poured my heart and soul into, the canvas that held all my emotions and dreams, wasn't just mine anymore. It belonged to her now.

Though the painting was small, it held a world of emotion and meaning beyond its size. It seemed too small to contain the depth of feelings it was meant to represent—a reminder of the intricate nature of human emotions and the intangible essence of love.

Though the painting was small, it had taken up so much of my time and energy. I'd layered on paint after paint, each stroke a piece of my heart poured onto the canvas.

But now, as I held it, doubt started to creep in. Had I really put enough of myself into it? Had I managed to capture even a fraction of the love I felt, or had I fallen short?

Pushing those thoughts aside, I turned to Alex, offering her the painting with a hesitant smile. "It's not much," I began, my voice tinged with self-deprecation, "but it's yours."

I watched her closely, waiting for her reaction. Would she be disappointed? Would she feel let down? But to my relief, her eyes lit up with warmth, reflecting the love I felt for her. She reached out to take the painting, her fingers brushing lightly against the surface.

"Mine?" she whispered, her voice barely above a breath. "Really?."

With a small nod, I confirmed, "Yeah."

As I watched a single tear roll down her cheek, a playful grin spread across my face. "Is it so bad?" I teased, injecting a bit of humor into my words.

She shook her head, chuckling softly, her eyes shining with both amusement and love. "No, love," she replied, her voice filled with genuine warmth, "this is the most amazing thing I've ever seen."

Her use of the word 'love' caught me off guard, sending a rush of excitement through me. It was a term she hadn't used before, and its unexpectedness made my heart flutter.

Setting the painting aside, she pulled me into a tight hug, wrapping me in her warmth and affection. With each kiss, she conveyed a thousand emotions, each one a testament to her love for me. When the kisses eventually stopped, leaving a lingering warmth behind, I couldn't help but laugh at her display of affection.

"You seem to enjoy kissing me quite a bit," I teased, a grin tugging at my lips.

With one last passionate kiss, she looked at me with unwavering sincerity. "It's my favorite thing in the world," she confessed.

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clarklovescarole · 1 year

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August 1937: Reunited

August 1, 1937 – The Spokesman Review

Too many years stood between Clark Gable and his two wives to warrant marriage longevity. Clark was at the period of a man’s life when he wants to have a good time (or do they always?) Anyway, he can now afford to sow his gayety oats and prefers to do it in the nonmarital company of Carole Lombard.

August 1, 1937 – San Francisco Examiner

Those telephone conversations Clark Gable and Carole Lombard carried on while Clark was away on his recent hunting trip were a sore disappointment to all the little telephone operators who tuned in every night to listen. Clark and Carole got on to the idea right away and confined themselves chiefly to such topics as the weather and the latest previews. On one occasion, the talk was so dull, there was a very audible little sigh between here and Oregon from one disappointed listener. That trip of Clark’s was a “glass house affair” from the start. The towns all along the way tipped off the next town that he was headed in that direction and there was a regular reception committee on hand to greet him.

August 1, 1937 – Des Moines Register

They say Clark Gable keeps Carole Lombard’s dressing room looking like a florist’s shop.

August 1, 1937 – Democrat and Chronicle

Carole Lombard and Clark Gable seem to have run out of practical jokes to play on one another. They became very circumspect and sent Louis B. Mayer a huge birthday cake with “Happy Birthday” spelled across the top in gardenias and green leaves, but they admit this didn’t run true to form and was unworthy of them. “Too tame,” remarked Carole to one of her friends.

August 3, 1937 – The Dayton Herald

Carole Lombard, spotting two little girls hanging around the studio fence, bringing them onto the lot for Coca Cola and ice cream and letting them watch her do a scene…

August 4, 1937 – Chattanooga Daily Times

The gardenias sported by Carole Lombard are not the gift of Clark Gable, but the product of her own garden…

August 6, 1937 – Daily Oklahoman

Clark Gable’s synthetic lovemaking on the screen may have all the elements of true ardor, but it is nothing compared to what it is in actual life. Gable and Carole Lombard greeted each other recently in one of those long kisses when you no longer see on the screen.

August 6, 1937 – Des Moines Register

GABLE’S KISSES THE REAL THING

Don’t Believe It? Ask Carole Lombard

By Harold Heffernan

Watching the stars: Carole Lombard looked a little uncomfortable in the arms of Fredric March. It was one of the closing scenes for “Nothing Sacred” – a situation where, after reels of comic battling, the combatants have discovered love, not hate, is in charge all the time.

Director William Wellman complained about the lack of spontaneity and sincerity in this clinching close-up.

Meanwhile, the stage door opened and a tall, broad figure tip-toed in. No one even glanced his way. He stood in the shadow, a cynical expression on his face as he appraised the love-making antics of the two principals.

Finally, he stepped out into the bright rays of the arcs. “Hy-ya, Carole,” he called.

Miss Lombard looked up in surprise, rudely disentangled herself from March’s embrace, and bounded toward the visitor. Their arms encircled each other and their lips met in one of those long, lingering kisses that are frowned on by the Hays Office.

But this was not play acting. Clark Gable had just returned from his three weeks’ hunting trip in Montana. He had dropped into the studio to say hello to the girl friend.

August 8, 1937 – South Bend Tribune

Carole Lombard sitting on the floor at her house playing cards with Clark Gable.

August 8, 1937 – Omaha Evening Bee News

Don’t overlook Olvera Street down by the Mexican plaza where Carole Lombard and Clark Gable like to dine and see the puppet shows.

August 12, 1937 – Detroit Free Press

Carole Lombard Now Looms for ‘Gone with the Wind’ Part

Latest Rumors Cast Her as Scarlett O’Hara, with Clark Gable as Rhett Butler

By Mollie Merrick

Hollywood goes on talking about the probable casting for “Gone with the Wind,” whether individuals are bored are not. And I must say, frankly, that most people are still very much open to discussion regarding this novel.

Latest rumors to percolate from David Selznick’s studio say that Carole Lombard will be Scarlett O’Hara in the film; Clark Gable, if it is possible to get him from MGM, will do the part of Rhett Butler…

There’s really nothing to do but wait, after all, but it’s fun running these casts over and over and discussing the pros and cons regarding the artists who may bring this story to the screen.

August 13, 1937 – Bradford Daily Record

FRIDAY 13 JINX

Sepulcharal footsteps of Frankenstein sounded again here today as the screen colony went on guard en masse against the jinx of Friday the thirteenth. …

Hollywood isn’t superstitious, it’s just playing safe today.

Carole Lombard’s affairs will fall a day behind. She won’t make any decisions today. She’s even declined a date for dinner and the fights with Clark Gable, and that’s something.

August 13, 1937 – The North Bay Nugget

(Ontario, Canada)

IT’S ONLY RUMOR…

And while we’re mentioning movie stars, rumors have been running rampant lately that Carole Lombard and Clark Gable have been vacationing in this vicinity. We even heard, mind you, that they were at the Dionne Nursery one day this week to see the quintuplets.

However, we’re inclined to think that had they really been there, they’d have caused more furor than a mere rumor.

August 21, 1937 – Tulare Advance Register

(Snippet from article)

You Can’t Be A Star and Be Yourself

By Jeannette Meehan

There are no more natural people in Hollywood than Clark Gable and Carole Lombard. And of all the people in Hollywood a reporter would expect to be good sports and talk a little about their rom – pardon – their friendship, it would be Clark and Carole. But they won’t. Few people know why, but if they’d ask Carole they’d find out.

Shortly after they begin appearing together, a fan magazine story involving the two was published. The writer had obviously referred to a dated joke book. According to Carole, the “smart sayings” which were put into her mouth and Clark’s were covered with cobwebs. The story also said, right out in plain sight, that she called him “tootsie darling” and he called her “puddle duck.”

Well, Carole and Clark both ran for a shot of bicarbonate. They decided right then and there that as far as their friendship was concerned, no copy was good copy.

August 26, 1937 – Star Tribune

Clark Gable’s wife says she isn’t holding him for sentimental reasons, as many people think. She simple wants a chunky settlement, and Clark says nope…

August 28, 1937 – Los Angeles Times

Carole Lombard’s new Palomino riding horse, named Pinto, was a gift from Clark Gable…

August 29, 1937 – St. Louis Globe Democrat

When Carole Lombard and Clark Gable dine out they go for porterhouse steaks with garlic.

August 30, 1937 – Pomona Progress

Ross E. Cooper, trainer with have four horses here for William LeBaron, producer…In the two-year-old division he has two smart colts. Clarcarole, a contraction of two names, Clark and Carole, in honor of Clark Gable and Carole Lombard, will be a contender.

#1937 #clark gable #carole lombard #old hollywood

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97ft · 2 years

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[ # 𝟏𝟕 𝐁𝐔𝐍 𝐁𝐔𝐍 ]

⚠︎ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 | Smut, Dilf! Aged Up! Jungkook, Hybrid! Reader (oh wow???), Unprotected Sex, Daddy Kink, Size Kink, Bulging Kink, Cunnilingus (m), Overstimlation

"No, no, no, bunny, don't give me that" Mr. Jeon faked pouted down at you.

He pouted down at you who sat on the floor beneath him, clinging to his dress pant. "Don't fucking give me that look" he hissed between his teeth, bending down slightly to pet your head. Mr. Jeon sighed when only hugged his leg tighter as he attempted to walk to his room.

Picking you up off the floor, he set you down on his bed and cocked up an eyebrow. "Tell me what's wrong, bun" he said, narrowing his eyes at you while he held your hand. He knew something was up, he just couldn't quite put his finger on it. But he actually could physically put his finger on it.

His jaw dropped when he figured out exactly what it was. You'd let go of his hand and pull down your panties. A string of arousal connecting from it and a wet stain was all Mr. Jeon saw before his eyes reverted to your...situation. He should've known, his house did smell a little different than usual.

Arousal was smeared all over your heat, some dripped down to your ass. Mr. Jeon swallowed, hard.

"I...I already touched myself," you announced, your voice shaky. It was like Mr. Jeon's eyes bore into your soul. He knew about heats—just, he never experienced what it was like first hand. Well, he was about to. He's honestly surprised you haven't pounced on him—actually he spoke too soon. You couldn't stand the lack of action Mr. Jeon was giving you, it was too little. You wrapped your arms around his neck, smashing your lips onto his. Your teeth bit into Mr. Jeon's bottom lip. His hands wrapped around your waist as his other attempted to stable himself to prevent him from falling on the ground.

Your hand fondled with his dick in his pants, shuffling to unbuckle his belt. You sank to your knees before him, grabbing his dick out of his briefs. Giving the tip kisses, you looked up at him and batted your eyelashes as you took him down your throat.

The room grew hotter as you continued taking his cock down your throat causing Mr. Jeon to discard his blazer and button up on the floor. He was left in his dark blue dress pants and oxfords. Beads of sweat were forming on his chest and forehead—his styled gelled hair remaining untouched. "God, bun" he groaned out, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down.

One of his hands were holding onto the edge of his TV stand he was leaned against and the other entangled in your hair. Mr. Jeon hissed between his teeth when one of your hands had traveled up to massage his balls. "Fuck," he cursed, pulling you off his dick revealing a string of saliva connecting from your mouth. Your lips were wet with spit and precum. "Daddy!" you whined, looking up at him with your pretty eyes, ready to protest.

"No, bunny" Mr. Jeon spoke, his tone firm as he laid you down on his bed and spread your legs for him "M'gonna fuck you, you'll have Daddy's cum in that little cunt of yours, m'kay?"

You nodded your head as you watched Mr. Jeon remove the rest of any article of clothing left. He raised your lips up off the bed a little and shoved his dick inside of you.

"Daddy~ H-Harder!" you moaned out, Mr. Jeon holding your wrists with his hands. As per your request, Mr. Jeon's thrusts got rougher. You felt so full, as if his cock could split you in two. If that were to ever occur though, you would never mind. "My bun likes it when I f-fuck her dumb, hm?" he questioned, his stupidly handsome smile on his face. "Mhm!" you cried out, your nails digging into the palm of your hand. Mr. Jeon let out a breath of amusement as his hand traveled up to your ears, the action making you whimper when he touched your ear. "W-Wanna be fucked stupid b-by you."

Mr. Jeon's bottom lip was tucked in-between his teeth as he watched your tits bounce up and down with every thrust he gave. His eyes wandered down to your tummy, an outline of his cock railing in and out of you showing up clearly. His free hand rested on the area, feeling himself fuck you. "Oh, bun" he groaned letting go of one of your hands and making it stay at the area where you could feel him poking through.

Your moans suddenly rang louder in the room the moment you felt his dick through your tummy—your moans rang even louder when the tip of his cock kissed your cervix. "So damn small, bunny" he laughed through his groan, smiling like an idiot when you came all over his cock without warning. Your walls were fluttering all around his dick, chanting out his name in desperation.

Mr. Jeon's eyebrows furrowed, his goal is now to get himself to cum. He could feel himself getting dizzy until he finally shot all of his cum inside your hole. He pulled out, admiring the way his cum oozed out of your cunt. "Daddy~" you whined weakly, switching your position to have your ass all in the air with the top half of your body being pressed against the sheets. "S-Still need you...y-your cock" you stumbled, showing him your glistening hole.

He tsked, landing several harsh spanks to your ass. "Look at your sloppy little pussy, bun!" he smiled, as if nothing sinful ever happened as he pointed to the mirror behind you. Heat rushed to your cheeks as you looked behind you, your cunt covered in your arousal mixed with Mr. Jeon's cum. "Now, bun bun, you want Daddy to fuck you again?" he asked with a certain glimmer in his eyes.

"Y-yes, Daddy" you whimpered out "N-Need more".

Mr. Jeon held your arms behind your back as he pushed his dick between your ass. "What happened to your manners, bun? C'mon, show Daddy you deserve to be fucked. Say it, bun bun." Mr. Jeon spat, taunting you with his menacing tone.

"Please D-Daddy, n-need you to fuck me."

HOT DILFS IN YOUR AREA

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#bts smut #bts dilf #bts hybrid #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut #bts jungkook smut #bts x reader #jungkook x reader

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mull3ts · 2 years

Text

[ # 𝟏𝟕 𝐁𝐔𝐍 𝐁𝐔𝐍 ]

⚠︎ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 | Smut, Dilf! Aged Up! Jaemin, Hybrid! Reader (oh wow???), Unprotected Sex, Daddy Kink, Size Kink, Bulging Kink, Cunnilingus (m), Overstimlation

"No, no, no, bunny, don't give me that" Mr. Na faked pouted down at you.

He pouted down at you who sat on the floor beneath him, clinging to his dress pant. "Don't fucking give me that look" he hissed between his teeth, bending down slightly to pet your head. Mr. Na sighed when only hugged his leg tighter as he attempted to walk to his room.

His jaw dropped when he figured out exactly what it was. You'd let go of his hand and pull down your panties. A string of arousal connecting from it and a wet stain was all Mr. Na saw before his eyes reverted to your...situation. He should've known, his house did smell a little different than usual.

Arousal was smeared all over your heat, some dripped down to your ass. Mr. Na swallowed, hard.

"I...I already touched myself," you announced, your voice shaky. It was like Mr. Na's eyes bore into your soul. He knew about heats—just, he never experienced what it was like first hand. Well, he was about to. He's honestly surprised you haven't pounced on him—actually he spoke too soon. You couldn't stand the lack of action Mr. Na was giving you, it was too little. You wrapped your arms around his neck, smashing your lips onto his. Your teeth bit into Mr. Na's bottom lip. His hands wrapped around your waist as his other attempted to stable himself to prevent him from falling on the ground.

The room grew hotter as you continued taking his cock down your throat causing Mr. Na to discard his blazer and button up on the floor. He was left in his dark blue dress pants and oxfords. Beads of sweat were forming on his chest and forehead—his styled gelled hair remaining untouched. "God, bun" he groaned out, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down.

One of his hands were holding onto the edge of his TV stand he was leaned against and the other entangled in your hair. Mr. Na hissed between his teeth when one of your hands had traveled up to massage his balls. "Fuck," he cursed, pulling you off his dick revealing a string of saliva connecting from your mouth. Your lips were wet with spit and precum. "Daddy!" you whined, looking up at him with your pretty eyes, ready to protest.

"No, bunny" Mr. Na spoke, his tone firm as he laid you down on his bed and spread your legs for him "M'gonna fuck you, you'll have Daddy's cum in that little cunt of yours, m'kay?"

You nodded your head as you watched Mr. Na remove the rest of any article of clothing left. He raised your lips up off the bed a little and shoved his dick inside of you.

"Daddy~ H-Harder!" you moaned out, Mr. Na holding your wrists with his hands. As per your request, Mr. Na's thrusts got rougher. You felt so full, as if his cock could split you in two. If that were to ever occur though, you would never mind. "My bun likes it when I f-fuck her dumb, hm?" he questioned, his stupidly handsome smile on his face. "Mhm!" you cried out, your nails digging into the palm of your hand. Mr. Na let out a breath of amusement as his hand traveled up to your ears, the action making you whimper when he touched your ear. "W-Wanna be fucked stupid b-by you."

Mr. Na's bottom lip was tucked in-between his teeth as he watched your tits bounce up and down with every thrust he gave. His eyes wandered down to your tummy, an outline of his cock railing in and out of you showing up clearly. His free hand rested on the area, feeling himself fuck you. "Oh, bun" he groaned letting go of one of your hands and making it stay at the area where you could feel him poking through.

Mr. Na's eyebrows furrowed, his goal is now to get himself to cum. He could feel himself getting dizzy until he finally shot all of his cum inside your hole. He pulled out, admiring the way his cum oozed out of your cunt. "Daddy~" you whined weakly, switching your position to have your ass all in the air with the top half of your body being pressed against the sheets. "S-Still need you...y-your cock" you stumbled, showing him your glistening hole.

He tsked, landing several harsh spanks to your ass. "Look at your sloppy little pussy, bun!" he smiled, as if nothing sinful ever happened as he pointed to the mirror behind you. Heat rushed to your cheeks as you looked behind you, your cunt covered in your arousal mixed with Mr. Na's cum. "Now, bun bun, you want Daddy to fuck you again?" he asked with a certain glimmer in his eyes.

"Y-yes, Daddy" you whimpered out "N-Need more".

Mr. Na held your arms behind your back as he pushed his dick between your ass. "What happened to your manners, bun? C'mon, show Daddy you deserve to be fucked. Say it, bun bun." Mr. Na spat, taunting you with his menacing tone.

"Please D-Daddy, n-need you to fuck me."

HOT DILFS IN YOUR AREA

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#nct smut #nct dilf #jaemin smut #nct x reader #jaemin x reader #nct jaemin smut #na jaemin smut #nct hybrid

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notnctu · 3 years

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push & pull | kim doyoung

❀ slytherin!doyoung x hufflepuff!femreader ❀ genre - SLOW BURN, smut, fluff, a bit of humor (idk not rlly) ❀ details - hogwarts!au, fwb to lovers?, y/n is a player lol, jealous doyoung, mutual pining, doyoung is a lil mean ❀ word count - 9.7k ❀ warnings - explicit language, possessiveness (a concept of marking), dom!doyoung, angry sex?, slight dirty talk, penetration, fingering, praise kink ❀ synopsis - in which a prideful slytherin and an oblivious hufflepuff play a clueless emotion game of tug of war.

❝I thought Hufflepuffs are to be loyal, so why do you sleep with other men?❞

❝People say Slytherins are ambitious, so why didn’t you pursue me?❞ ❀ a/n - i changed the plot a little bit as i was writing lol but hopefully it still fits everything! i said this in the teaser, but i want to preface and say that the magic/marking is not canon to harry potter, and that the only thing im using are the sectional houses/subjects. besides that, everything is made up LMAO also pls b lenient with me, i read hogwarts!au but writing it is very out of my comfort zone and am very bad at creating anything magical

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Kim Doyoung, the Slytherin boy of your dreams, mindlessly and imperfectly steals glances your way across the dining tables and under several hundred floating lit candles. He sits huddled with his few posh friends that wear the same green and silver tie situated so tightly underneath their necks. And you, just looking as dazzling as ever, with your yellow and black tie hanging loose and a few buttons undone from your dress shirt.

He hates how easily you catch his attention and his ability to spot your figure in a dense crowd. You barely even look his way in public now, often distracted by a broad Gryffindor that tries to make flirtatious advantages at you. And when he thinks it can’t get any worse, it does… as you’re flashing your bright beautiful smile back at him and the shift in your body language.

“You’re staring again.” Yuta flickers between his friend and the subject of his focus.

Doyoung clears his throat, smooths his tie and physically turns his body away from the horrendous scene. “It’s very hard not to stare when she’s flirting with other men in front of me.”

“Does she do it on purpose?” The silver haired boy raises a questionable eyebrow and Doyoung reacts before he can speak.

He perks up and narrows his eyes at Yuta. “Purpose? Like to make me jealous?” Doyoung scoffs, laughs almost at the ridiculous thought. “The answer is no. We’re not exclusive, we’re nothing.”

“If you two are nothing, then why are you acting like you two are something? Get a grip, it’s practically sickening watching you fume over a ditzy Hufflepuff.” As Yuta prepares to bite into his delicious soft bread roll, it flies out of his grip, down the long table and onto another person’s plate.

Both boys are quick to stand to their feet and face each other chest to chest. Neither one of them is intimidated by the other, but their other friends around them are rather shocked by the sudden discrepancy.

Doyoung forcibly brushes off an imaginary dust off his good friend’s shoulders and draws a perfectly strained fake smile, knowing that others may be watching and he is a Prefect after all. But most importantly, you could be watching. “Call her that again, and your dinner won’t be the only thing that’s thrown across the table.” His threat is loud enough solely for Yuta to hear.

Yuta, with glaring eyes, picks up his dinner tray and walks off with his chin held high and a brisk in his stride. Doyoung clears his throat in the midst of the brief silence and out of habit, fixes his tie back in place. He takes a seat back down and the chatter at the table resumes, but he’s beyond embarrassed and disappointed at his loss of temper that everything drowns out.

Almost everything. He feels a light tap on his shoulder and out of annoyance, he spins around hastily and sharply snarls, “what?” But his eyes land on your fearful wide eyes and the slight cower in your stance, knowing that you caught onto his bad mood. And he’s half in disbelief that you’re approaching him right in the center of the Great Hall, that you’re standing so beautiful a foot away from him.

Instant regret and guilt fills his chest, his sharp eyes soften at your pout and the concerned furrow in between your brows. Nonetheless, he doesn’t have any words to say… he can’t get himself to apologize for his behavior.

“Do you want to walk to Herbology with me?” The quiver in your voice made you seem so small, so desperate for him, that he can hear the reactions of his friends. They’re laughing, at him, at you, at the whole scene that’s unfolding. He feels mocked, being a laughing stock isn’t something he’s very fond of.

His lips form a tight line, and in a snarky tone, “you don’t know your own way, Puff? Mind you ask your own Prefect to guide you.” Fuck. He tried to find the nicest way possible to brush you off, but his friends laugh a bit louder and intensely. And you didn’t like that one bit.

Your lips part slightly in a frown, an eyebrow raised and a hand on your hip. You look as if you’re ready to attack him, to jinx him, to probably pinch at his skin. But he knows you, and you’d do none of the above. Instead, you say the one threat that causes his heart to sink into the pit of his stomach, “don’t talk to me in class.” You’re slipping away from him as you pick up your pace, exiting all the commotion in the Great Hall.

He tries to hide the disappointment that stems from his chest, and his heart beats with an inexplicable dull pain. All he can think about is the twist of your expression and he’s gathering his things rather quickly to follow after you, without even a bid goodbye to his clique.

Without any knowledge of what you two do behind closed doors and the complex history that you two share, one may view your relationship as practically nonexistent; you two are strangers, barely passing acquaintances.

Doyoung does not approach you in the halls, in anywhere that necessarily has many witnesses. You smile at him, maybe even a wave depending on your mood, but no one questions it … as you wave at almost everyone who passes by you.

Classmates might see interaction during the one class you two share, if they pay attention close enough. However, you and Doyoung are much more to each other than passing acquaintances. Although he’s starting to see himself as another name on your list of individuals you sleep with, you are much more to him than you could ever know.

He’ll never forget the first time you two met. He was patrolling the halls for anyone lurking past curfew with his nose dug deep in his heavy book on magical creatures, when you walked right into him and caused the both of you to fall to the granite.

He was beyond ready to dock off points for whoever the rule breaker may be, but you took his breath away when you hovered above him and clasped your palm over his mouth before he can scold anyone. You looked a bit frazzled as your hair was all over the place and he noticed your minimal amount of clothing in the middle of a cold winter night.

He saw the signature Hufflepuff badge on your thin sweater and the sound of your voice completely threw him off his tracks.

“I’m so sorry.” You whisper at the stunned Prefect underneath you, whose body feels warm against your own. But your eyes remain frantically on the lookout for anyone else passing, despite the lack of light in the cobblestone hallway. You most definitely do not belong in this wing of the castle and knocking down a Prefect caused more of a problem in your escape route.

Quickly standing up, you lend your hand out for him to take. His long fingers accept your hold as he pulls himself up and dusts the dirt off his robe. His green emblem glows in the dim light and you’re internally screaming at the mess you just made for yourself. But you recognize his features: the sharpness in his eyes, the small curves of the corners of his lips, his neatly parted black hair.

“You’re in some deep---”

“---Kim Doyoung.” The boy freezes at the sound of his name and he blinks at you, curious as to where you know of him. Being a Prefect has its small perks of popularity, but he didn’t expect for it to go this far. “Y/N, we had brooms together.”

As he repeats your name and examines your pretty features, a light bulb goes off in his head. “The clumsy Hufflepuff that fell off her broom in the highest altitude?”

“If that’s how you remember me by.” You smile proudly, and he scoffs at how someone could possibly hold pride in something so silly. “It’s nice to see you around, you’re a Prefect! Wow! That’s incredible.”

“And you’re still as clumsy as you were a year ago. Falling all over the place.”

“Unfortunately, some things don’t change! But you certainly have.” Doyoung looks at you with hooded eyes and a cautious gaze, but you’re so outlandishly bold despite swaying with your hands behind your back. “Please, don’t take that the wrong way. I meant it as a compliment! I used to have a tiny crush on you, baseless, but you helped me catch my broomstick and I’ll never be able to forget that.”

Doyoung, unknowingly, lights up at your shameless confession and takes another good look at you. You're much more mature now, and if he stared into your alluring gaze any longer, he’d be completely mesmerized without the need of a love potion. “So you liked me over a meaningless chivalrous act?”

“I liked you because you were charming and yes, perhaps I am someone who finds attractiveness in men who are chivalrous. There’s nothing wrong with that.” You bat your sweet eyelashes at him so endearingly, and he’s a blushing mess all over the place.

Doyoung has had anonymous love letters passed on from his friends, but they were all Slytherins who yearned greedily to be associated with his status. So knowing that a Hufflepuff, with an innocent youthful approach to love, festered some form of infatuation with him does flatter him quite well. “I’ll let you go.”

You’re about to exhale an exasperated sigh of relief until Doyoung continues, “under one condition.”

“Okay, I’ll do anything.” Your gleaming eyes sparkle like stars paired with the night sky.

He rolls his eyes at you, “don’t be so quick to jump at conditions without hearing them first.” Doyoung groans and you passively brush off his comment.

“If it’s harmless, I’ll do it.”

And in the dead of the night, where only you two stand in the middle of an empty cobblestone hallway, Doyoung requests, “I want to see you again.”

Although that night marked the beginning of your friendship, public interactions were still scarce and this was mainly on the fault of Doyoung. The times you met were late nights past curfew where he was stationed at and he grew to enjoy your wondrous personality. This boy grew up in a Slytherin bubble his whole life, no one outside of his house ever dared approached him … at least, not with the warmest smile as yours.

You were everything he was not, but he liked it so much. You were a half that completed his whole, and there were growing pains he couldn’t confide in anyone else. Surprisingly, you knew his imperfections more than he did himself and yet, you still wanted to be around him to encourage him. Not to mention, you had a sudden growth in other parts of your body and formed into your features very beautifully.

He wasn’t the only one who noticed, as there were more male counterparts who smiled at you, talked about you, fawned over you. And he felt something heighten inside of him along with his existing romantic feelings, and that he began seeing you in a new light.

With you experiencing new things, like hand holding and being showered by love letters on Valentine’s Day, it was wrong of him to fester such envy over the ones who publicly adorned you. He was so blinded by his hot headed rage that he completely missed the fact that you never accepted anyone who confessed, maybe the hand holding, but everyone else was a complete rejection.

All this time, you had been waiting for him and when you two shared your first kiss together, you had an assumption that Doyoung was going to finally confess that he felt the same way. But he never did. You two did, however, further your relationship into something more intimate and taking each other’s virginities opened a whole pathway of possibilities --- none being one where you two end up officially together.

He was the first to sleep with someone else, that was his first of many mistakes that he was going to make in his relationship with you. It also became the drop of the needle for you to start seeing other people as well, to explore what Doyoung couldn’t offer, to rid yourself of the feelings you had for a boy that didn’t seem like he wanted anything more.

Chivalry was dead and Doyoung believed that the innocent youthful Hufflepuff love had disappeared from within you.

As his present day runs after you, you’re abruptly stopped by a Ravenclaw for a small chat. Damn you Hufflepuffs for being friendly and social. So, he rushes past the two of you and into the classroom to await for your arrival. The quick shade of green flashes by your side and you’re fuming incredibly at how Doyoung continues to play you like a harp.

When you slide into your assigned seat next to him, he goes off like a canon. Doyoung starts spewing backhanded excuses and endless shameless rambles about his behavior. “I told you. Don’t talk to me during class or I will jinx you. Won’t be able to talk with your tongue stuck to the roof of your mouth.”

“You’re not going to jinx me.” With a subtle flick of his wrist, your chair is pulled closer to his. “And if you were to do so, you wouldn’t do something so cynical.” Yelping at the abrupt usage of his magic, you’re irritably pressing your ink into your journal with a newfound annoyance.

“You’re right. I’d turn you into a duck, so at least, you’re still cute to look at.” The mindless scribbles on the paper make no sense in your head, as you’re primarily zoned in on the disrupted energy you have about your Slytherin companion. These ill feelings make you almost sick, wanting to shut out any bad replay of the moments before and forgetting about the attention you seek so much from Doyoung.

“For you to successfully cast a jinx on me, you must make eye contact first.” His finger lifts your chin and you’re eye to eye with his lustful dark stare. Doyoung licks his lips, a shine shimmers from his saliva, and he’s tempted to bring you into his chambers for an intimacy he’s been craving. “My, oh my. You’re looking very charmed today.” A grin curves up and taunts you, and you’re blinking away down at the table.

“Doyoung, we’re in class. Please, focus.” Your desperate whisper turns into a whine once his cold hand slyly smooths over your bare knee.

“Are you free later tonight?” Doyoung peers over at your side profile and your skin feels soft at his fingertips. He’s imagining your intoxicating scent mixing with his sheets, your light playful kisses along his neck, and gripping onto every naked part of you. For a whole minute, he’s forgotten that he’s in class with other no name individuals and a boring professor. He has tunnel vision whenever he’s with you.

“I have an arrangement.” The grip on your knee tightens at your quiet answer. An arrangement.

“The Gryffindor who had leafy greens in between his teeth?” Doyoung treads lightly, because you’re both well aware he’s made harsher insults than that. He retrieves his hand and picks up his pen as if he’s never touched you.

He sees your head shake out of the corner of his eye, you’re rolling your lips together sheepishly. There’s something odd about your stance and he’s growing a bit more curious…. A bit more spiteful at how closed off you are being. There’s something you’re hiding from him. “Then, who?”

“Is there something you’d like to discuss with the class, Mr. Kim? If not, I’d like for everyone to head over to the greenhouse.” As the class slightly snickers and the classroom empties, you and Doyoung are stopped by your professor.

Professor Sprout, wearing her worn out Dragon hide gloves and a thin lined smile, shoves a potted plant into Doyoung’s hands, “behave, you two. Your conversations are never very secret when spoken aloud.” She gives both of you a warning before proceeding out along with the rest of the class.

Doyoung scoffs at the absurd encounter and rolls his eyes. “Ah, you’re getting me in trouble with you now.”

“I’m sorry, Doyoung. It’s better that you don’t know.” You say this every time, when will you realize that keeping your hookups a secret only causes him more agony? He catches your wrist as you both exit the corridors, he barely ever has you alone now. And to say the least, he fucking misses you.

“Spare me some of your time after class.” He’s disgusted by himself, knowing that his eyes are begging for you to say yes. Him, a highly admired Slytherin, has settled for scraps and if anyone knew, they’d never let him live.

Your hand gently clasps over his and when you look up with your starry eyes, something inside him feels at peace. “Did you miss me?” He gulps at your question and blinks at you like a deer in headlights. If said by anyone else, he would not hesitate to snap his fingers into a malicious spell. But you ask the million dollar question so sweetly, there’s no taunt… there’s no mockery in your tone. It’s full of genuine curiosity.

So, he answers you with part of his heart that you know too well. “Unfortunately.” His body falls slightly in defeat, and suddenly the potted plant is alive in his hands. It’s wailing a dangerous and annoying loud cry, completely ruining the moment.

Doyoung quizzically ponders the monstrous green plant and its magical capabilities puzzle him, possibly reminding him to pay more attention to the actual curriculum than on your unbuttoned shirt.

Moreover, your giggle surprisingly calms him in this stressful situation and you lightly pat his hand that’s still gripping your wrist. “I’m all yours after class.”

Taking the wretched plant, you hurry off toward the greenhouse to find someone to diffuse the crying creature. Doyoung laughs in disbelief at your comical animated figure running around with a pot over your head and shouting for any student to help you. So you’re not paying attention in class either?

Doyoung takes you to your favorite place, despite the rule that you’re not allowed access to it. The Prefect Bathroom remains spotlessly clean and fresh paired with an immediate scent of rosewater and wild honeysuckle. The white polished marble gleams prettily under the twinkling diamond chandeliers and you’re twirling enthusiastically in the center of the large undressing area.

He observes and smiles widely to himself at the sight of your happiness and cute giggles. It’s always a risk to have you use their bathroom, but he is always abusing his privilege to seek your enjoyment that he truly doesn’t care about anything else. Your morality has beaten him enough and he’s heard plenty about his wrongdoings, yet here you are… sweetly dancing in the one place that’s absolutely wrong. Perhaps, you two have rubbed off a little too much on one another.

“I can never get sick of this place.” As you plead to Doyoung to cast a bubble bath, you’re already stripping out of your skirt. He shields his eyes to give you some privacy and recites the charm to run hot dazzling water in the ginormous pool. A nice soothing bath is exactly what you two need after a stressful day playing in the dirt.

“This is your favorite place.” says Doyoung with a matter of fact edge to this tone.

“It’s my favorite place because I only get to come here with you.” You jump on his back and he hoists you up by your thighs. His heart skips a happy tune. “I refuse for you to tell me the password, even if you do wish for me to enjoy the simple pleasures of a bubble bath.”

“You and your right and wrongs.” With eager hands, you’re loosening his tie from around his neck. “You stripped so fast that you’re going to get a cold.”

“It’s going to get steamy really soon. Plus, I know you like me best without any clothes on.” Your hot breath tickles the shell of his ear and a blush scatters across Doyoung’s cheek. Button after button, his open shirt exposes his toned build. He sets you on the edge of the elevated step before the bath.

Doyoung smirks at your nakedness and your hot lustful expression. Leaning in until he’s practically breathing against your lips, he stares straight into your eyes. “My Puff knows me best.” And dives into you with all his soul. Fruitful drags of his lips along yours, his long tongue enters your mouth. His large hand carefully caresses your cheek to pull you further into the kiss, noses pressing into skin and with a desire to never part.

His heart swells lovingly, kissing you feels like the best thing in the world. There are no tricks, no spells, no recited charms, but you are more than magical. The same surge of energy runs through his veins, but unlike his impressive ability as a notable wizard, he can’t control it. You make him lose control. As meticulous and cautious as he is, you’re the first thing he doesn’t think through.

Your needy hands push off his dress shirt and he hurriedly unbuckles his belt. When you break the kiss, he automatically pouts and pulls you back in for one more lingering peck. “Are you going to scrub my back for me?” You smile, dragging him closer to the overflowing bathtub.

Large puffs of white bubbles spill from the rims and disappear with your every step. It reminds you of sea foam that washes upon the shore, with a floral fragrant that fills your lungs. “That’s quite an intimate gesture, but yes.”

After removing all his garments, he joins you in the large pool of glossy bubbles and the clouds of steam that rises from the water suffocates him warmly. He sits with his back against the wall and eyes unwavering on your alluring expression.

The bubbles do a great job at covering your breasts, but his sneaky hands snake under the water to grip them. Doyoung grabs a full tit and thumbs over your erect nipple, all while he holds the most sensual gaze with you. Slowly, you naturally end up in his hold and your wet back relaxes against his chest.

The beating of his heart is too loud and surely, you can feel the way it jumps out of his chest. Doyoung attaches his lips on your skin and as you’re melting at his harsh suckling. However, you perk up and snap out of your dazed arousal at the realization of his purposeful licks. “You’re trying to mark me?”

His hand continues to rub and twist your aching nipples. The sensation stimulating the growth of pleasure to sprout below and your mind to wander.

“Possibly.”

A lovers’ mark is the ultimate testament of mutual love. Engraving the skin with your beloved’s Patronus, wherever the giver chooses to mark. Love emblems are meant to be something sacred to the couple, a way to make someone completely untouchable to everyone else. Not only does the symbol glow with an iridescent shine whenever love is felt, it also numbs any romantic feelings for all others besides the partner.

Besides the use of possessiveness, it’s a beautiful way to discover one true love since the engraving of their Patronus shows up on the skin under the conditions that both individuals must be madly in love with one another. And if it doesn’t end up forming, the receiver is left with a bright, sparkling star hue in its place before fading away completely. If it does appear, it fades when both fall out of love.

“Doyoung--” His name falls from your lips as a moan and he’s running down to explore the beauty between your legs. “--can’t do that unless you actually want to commit to me.”

“I am committed to you.” The more your neck cranes off to the side and exposed to him, the more he wishes to etch the symbol of his love for everyone to see. A hand is hooked under your thigh to keep your legs spread open and you’re gasping at the slight pressure from the water.

“Romantically committed to me.” You remind him, but your train of thought is cut fairly short as Doyoung begins rubbing circles on your needy clit.

“You’re afraid of it showing up?” He’s lathering your breasts with bubbles and dragging his long finger along your slit. His greediness overtakes him and with wandering hands, he’s gripping every part of you that they can reach. Doyoung’s guilty pleasure is always going to any form of physical affection from you specifically. When he finally gets ahold of you, it’s hard for him to let go.

Your warm skin is delicate and smooth beneath the very tips of his fingers and every exploration of your terrain makes him feel inexplicable explosions of fondness. Perhaps, you’ve captivated him and although he believed it would take something as extreme as the Amortentia to have him falling for someone, you did it as easily as being yourself. His better half.

So, he’s impressed by your genuineness and how he’s willing to give up parts of his reputation to unapologetically be himself around you. No one else matters, nothing else matters, but why must it be so difficult to tell you that?

“I’m afraid of it not showing up.” You’re more than convinced that Doyoung has confused his strong sense of lust with love and there would be no possible way his Patronus would appear. It’s better to save the embarrassment for the both of you.

Spinning in his arms, the water twirls to the curves of your body and he’s admiring parts that expose above the surface. He’s matched with your beauty before him, resemblance to the stained glass window that situates above the large bathroom.

However, the doubt in your statement finally reaches his ears and he’s grabbing your ass as you settle over his thighs again. His furrowed eyebrows bring together a rather upset expression --- lip pout and all.

“Why wouldn’t it show up?” Doyoung puzzles, bringing your arms to wrap around his neck. Leaning into him, your pruney fingers trace his smooth chin and he notices your quick flicker between his eyes and his lips.

While your gentle kiss reassures him of your subtle endearment, your next words do the opposite. “You tell me.” All you do is push him away with your vague doubtfulness, like you’re constantly testing him and using his poor guessing skills to your own advantage. He can pull you close after any altercation he wants, but you push him away in any emotionally romantic sense.

“You’re rather mischievous and mysterious today,” Doyoung squeezes your ass and smacks it lightly, causing ripples in the water. “I liked it better when you told me everything you felt.”

Suddenly, his fingers poke at your entrance and his other hand drops in between your legs again. Your mouth opens in shock when his long fingers enter slowly and he enjoys the pleasurable contour of your reactions. “Like this, for example.” The pad of his fingers working rapid flicks against your sensitive bud. “How does this feel?” His whisper dances across your shoulder, landing a kiss at the end of his question.

Your moans echo in the lavish bathroom, bouncing off the marble walls and encouraging Doyoung to keep a steady pace. There’s no worry about how loud you may be, Doyoung charms every room before every lustful encounter. This allows you to let go, let free, let him know how he makes you feel.

He curves his fingers into you, pumping and dragging into your tightness until you’re practically screaming. He only has one thought, as his eyes trail down your intoxicated needy figure, how beautiful you are as a moaning mess under his control. Your head is thrown back, eyes are squeezed shut and opening them to see nothing but tiny yellow starlight.

Dainty kisses line your exposed neck line and his ego swells with so much pride. Doyoung has mastered every flick of his wrist to have you under his trance, spewing nonsensical words and forgetting anyone else that exists. He gives your erect nipples harsh licks and with a faint drag of teeth, the sensation pushes you to your end.

Sporadic pleasurable convulsions cause your legs to close around Doyoung’s hands, but the strength of his knee keeps them apart. “Doyoung… I’m going to free fall.”

Leave it up to you to beautifully announce your climax. He snickers, applying more pressure on your clit and a rubbing motion against your walls. “I’ll catch you.”

Moon crescents embed into his skin as you’re holding onto him with your whole life. As your scream hits every octave, the massive collection of bubbles that cover the surface of the bath fly and splatter every corner of the pristine room.

White and wet bubbles drip down from the walls, falling from the diamond chandeliers, and coating every steamy mirror. Doyoung’s eyes light up from the chaos, making sure you’re riding out your high for as long as he can provide.

Your body trembles with euphoria, falling forward into Doyoung’s chest and squeezing around his lazily pumping fingers. For a brief second, your mind is wiped and nothing in the world feels better than being in this perfect moment with the one person who’s Patronus you hoped would etch your skin.

If one possesses feelings that are practically unbearable to contain, one should confess… right? For all your life, you’ve lived by this statement. Friends do not hear the end of it and most surely, one should follow their own advice… right?

So why do you yearn for Doyoung in your gaze as he stands across the Great Hall as if he doesn’t know of your existence? As if he wasn’t kissing you in the Prefect bathroom a few days prior?

It’s not an understatement to say that you catch the attention of almost every person in the room, but the one head that refuses to turn your way… the one who’s looks you wish to steal… is the one person who looks right through you.

Feelings have become a nuisance ever since the first time you confessed to him and it was worse than landing on cobblestone after falling off your broom. The reason why you’ve buried them deeper than any chamber is that you’re positive that the prized Slytherin would rather be with another, preferably one from his own house.

While you try to remain optimistic and playful for the time being, you’re simply replaceable to him. He can barely care to acknowledge you in public when Gryffindors boast about you in their arms like winning a trophy. You’ve kept good relations with every Ravenclaw you’ve slept with. You’ve kindly rejected every romantic gesture another Hufflepuff has offered.

But if there is one thing you’ve learned about him is that he’s lived in his Slytherin circle for as long as he lives. And it will stay that way. You’re his sweet Hufflepuff that he’ll push away at no cost, then pull you back in secrecy.

Now if one feels as if they’re wasting their time, one should leave… right? Wrong. Kim Doyoung has skewed with your morality… and your feelings remain loyal to him since the day he confessed to see you again.

“Lemon-drop, I’ve been looking all over for you.” An arm slings around your shoulders and the notable red and gold tie is the first thing you see. Jung Jaehyun, Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, flashes his deep dimples at you. “Walk with me.”

He extends his palm out for you to take and your friends painfully elbow your sides to wake you from your hesitation. Taking his hand, you get up from the dining table and follow him out the Great Hall.

Doyoung sees the scene unfold before him and rolls his eyes at how Jaehyun’s dimples are all it takes to have you wandering off with him. Despite every wicked intent to follow you two, he heads out in the direction of the dormitories to fume in his room.

“It’s such a nice and sunny day today.” Jaehyun runs a hand through his luscious brown locks. You both exit into the front courtyard as other students are scattered on the lawns mingling with one another. When you peer up at the sky, the sun is barely seen past the layers of clouds.

“Jaehyun, is there something you needed to speak with me about?” His laughter roars, full of hefty song and amusement.

“Listen, lemon-drop. I like you and I have a feeling you feel the same way. I want to mark you if you’d let me.” Jaehyun smirks and just as he brings your hand up for a kiss, you gently let go. “Am I coming off too strong? We don’t have to do it today, I just wanted to see if it would show.”

“Jaehyun, you’re going to find an extravagant person one day. A person who is going to know all your favorite castle balconies to swing from and how you like to be kissed on the nose.” His ears grow a bright red and for once, his gaze drops to the ground. “I am, unfortunately, not that person for you so I must kindly reject your confession.”

As you turn on your toes, Jaehyun lightly holds your wrist to stop you. “But, you know all those things about me. Is there anything I can do to prove that we belong together?”

“I know them because I care enough to remember things you tell me, not because I loved you enough to observe these things about you. I give you my word that there is nothing you can do to prove me otherwise.” The corners of his lips dip downward and you’re running to the one person that will erase this sad rejection from your memory.

When you’re scanning the Great Hall for any sign of him, he’s not there and it leads you to his only hiding place. Doyoung loves to shut himself out from the rest of the school whenever he gets the chance. However, a lost Hufflepuff wandering outside the entrance of the Slytherin dormitories is rather an odd sight to see and you haven’t had the chance to form many connections from this house.

The sparse amount of Slytherins you know aren’t going to be passing by, unless with some stroke of luck, someone will be kind enough to open the door for you. Every person passes by you with questionable stares until a silver haired boy blinks at you with wide eyes.

“Who is it that you’re trying to see?” He asks abrasively, but softens his tone when he realizes that you mean no harm.

You bid him a small grin, “your Prefect.”

“And what for?”

“There is an urgent matter that involves him and he’s practically unreachable when he’s hiding away in his private room.” The boy narrows his eyes at you, but beckons you to follow him down to the Slytherin dungeon.

Excitedly, you hurry behind him and whisper over his shoulder, “what’s your name?”

“Nakamoto Yuta. No need to tell me yours, I’ll doubt he’d want me to know.” He spits and then, mutters the enchanted password to reveal the large green common room. “Come this way.” He leads up the boys’ dorms and walks briskly. Although you never mentioned a name, Yuta seems to already know who you’re here to see and it makes you wonder how he must know.

“Open up.” Yuta stops and knocks at the wooden door, Kim Doyoung written in a fancy penmanship on the center. “You have a guest.” He looks your way before rolling his eyes at Doyoung’s irritated tone through the other side.

“Tell them to leave.”

“He wants you to leave.” Yuta repeats, mostly to satisfy Doyoung’s nag.

“That’s fine. Thank you for bring---” The door swings open abruptly and Yuta almost loses his balance. Doyoung frantically turns his head side to side to comprehend what he is seeing. His ears felt deceived, hearing your voice through the door, he had to make sure it wasn’t you.

But you stand before him and Yuta. Here you are approaching him whenever he least expects it. “What are you doing here?”

“I came by to see you. I’ve been here plenty of times.”

“What are you doing bringing her in?” scolds Doyoung and the other boy shrugs carelessly.

“What was I supposed to do? Let her bat puppy eyes at several other Slytherins and have her telling everyone who passes her that she came here to see our Prefect? It was also getting cold out.” Yuta mumbles, but finds great entertainment at seeing how frazzled Doyoung has gotten by your presence.

“It was a bit chilly.” You admit and Doyoung groans, pulling you into his room and shutting the door on Yuta. “Thank you, Yuta.” You whisper through the crack between the door frame.

“It’s too risky for you to be searching for me around other Slytherins.” Doyoung paces the room and you notice his tie is loose and shirt is unbuttoned around his neck. “Why are you here?”

“A Gryffindor blew me off. I thought I’d come and see you with all the free time I can get.” Taking a seat at the end of his neatly made bed, your legs swing adorably and Doyoung almost doesn’t hear you.

“Jaehyun? Does he think he’s too good for you or something? That cocky dimple Gryffindor, with the draw of my wand---” Doyoung whips out his intricately customized Dragon Heartstring, and you’re on your feet to calm his temper down.

“Will you put that thing away? I’m here for you.” Your giggle warms his tight chest and puts out the fueling flame for anyone who dares to hurt you in any way. “It’s not a big deal and it’s not the first time it has happened.”

Doyoung uncomfortably clears his throat and withdraws his wand. Buttoning up his shirt, he fixes his tie back in place. To say the least, your words erupted his festering jealousy and this may have been a small tipping point.

Before you had entered, he was so frustrated with himself and you. You can just walk away with another man without a second thought, in front of him too. He remembered the soft feeling of your body and how he’s not the only one who’s needy hands ran their course over you. That may be the one pain he can never get rid of.

“I never understood why you give other men the time of your day when they just brush you off undeservingly.” He stings and you’re slightly surprised at his sudden attack. When you respond in silence, he continues.“I thought Hufflepuffs are to be loyal, so why do you sleep with other men?”

Crossing your arms, your weight is barred on your left leg and there is a shift in your overall mood. With an eyebrow raised, you sass him back, “People say Slytherins are ambitious, so why didn’t you chase after me?”

Doyoung swallows hard and blinks at you speechless. A clammy hand runs through his black strands as he tries to find any possible explanation without confessing his feelings. If he had a plan to confess, it would never be in the middle of an inquisition with you.

“I guess you didn’t think before acting on your desires.” And how he hated how correct that statement is. He doesn’t ever think whenever he’s around you. All his actions are conducted with his emotions and the feelings that overtake him.

Doyoung scoffs, rolling his eyes at your rash comment. “Aren’t you supposed to have the strongest morality among all the houses?”

“Sleeping with multiple men isn’t morally wrong. There’s nothing wrong with it…” The slight hurt from his question is difficult to ignore, but you must remember one thing if you want to protect your heart on your sleeve. This is nothing serious to be bickering over. You two aren’t anything serious, so why feel the need to squabble over nonsense? “... it would only be wrong if someone liked me and wished to commit to me.”

Your eyes meet and Doyoung blinks at you with wide eyes. His Adam’s Apple bobs as he gulps again, completely whiplashed at how the conversation has turned. “And if that’s the case and you like me, would that make you jealous, Doyoung? That’s why you’re trying to poorly attack my character?” He’s never heard such a strong taunt in your tone and he’s baffled by it, slightly aroused, but shocked.

“I don’t like you.” His voice is small and he pouts his lips at you. Doyoung crosses his arms and perhaps, his sad expression reveals a little more than it should have. Your heart softens at his ridiculously cute response, had you expected something much more angry and vindictive.

“Then this conversation is over, right? I’ll be on my way now. I have herbology.”

“We have the same class.” He grumbles, grabbing his robe from his desk chair.

You open the door to make your exit, “but since you don’t want to be seen with a Hufflepuff, I’ll go ahead first.” When you stumble out into the hallway, a recognizable face brightens at your appearance.

“Haechan! Hello, I haven’t seen you in a while.” You’re cheering and Doyoung chews the inside of his cheek. His pride is left at the door and along with all the things that hold him back from you, he doesn’t want to push you away anymore.

“My favorite Hufflepuff, are you just leaving?” Haechan walks up to open his arms, wishing to embrace you in the longest hug. However, Doyoung quickly takes you by your hand and rushes past him.

“She came to walk with me to class. Bye Haechan.” And Haechan is left standing in the middle of the hallway, confused and watching your backs as you’re both briskly walking out the common room.

Doyoung looks back at you, “you think I’m going to let you walk out of my room and have another Slytherin walk you to class? Don’t be so foolish.”

But you are foolish. Your heart beats foolishly and loudly for Kim Doyoung. And may you be foolish enough to wonder if his heart does the same for you.

And it does. Foolishly. Loudly. Lovingly.

You both wonder if this vicious cycle will ever meet its end. Doyoung pushes you away by ignoring your existing relationship, but pulls you back into his embrace as if it never happened. You push him away by running off with other men, but come back to him as if he’s the one person you’re loyal to.

But on this particular night, after mass circulation of rumors reaches the ears of the lovesick Slytherin, Doyoung is pulling you away from your huddled group of friends in the middle of the long corridor hallways. Without any greeting, any spoken words, he’s dragging you to his room right in front of everyone to see. His hand around yours like it was two days prior, but with an expression so grave on his sullen face.

The silence between you two brings no comfort, but you don’t dare say the first words. Doyoung, finally, approached you first in public and it is possibly for a greater reason. Perhaps you’ve done something horribly wrong, and the moment you two step into his room that you’ll hear a mouthful.

However when he closes the door to his room, your hand immediately drops from his embrace and he turns to face you. There is a darkness in his eyes, one that light cannot touch, and his lips are tight in a line.

There is an eerie silence that fills the dark room and the murky windows paint the area an ominous green. Doyoung focuses on your confused, yet adorable expression. “Why did you lie to me?”

The door catches your slight stumble and you’re blinking cluelessly at him. “About what?”

“Jaehyun.” He breathes the name in spite and aggressively loosens his tie. “He didn’t blow you off. You rejected him and he’s telling everyone it's because you’re in love with someone else.”

You scorn at such a ridiculous rumor and for the fact that it’s even made its way around to Doyoung. Another realization hits you. All it took for him to approach you in public is a meaningless rumor.

So in response, you laugh and it mocks him further. “This is not a laughing matter, y/n.”

“I’m sorry, but why are you so upset at that? Fine. I did lie to you, but I never told Jaehyun I was in love with anyone else.”

“Are you in love with someone else?” Doyoung says with balled fists at his side. There is a mixture of anger and sadness running through his veins and he’s so sick of feeling this way.

Your hesitation speaks for you, “It’s better that you don’t know.”

“You say this every time and it does nothing to ease my conscience.” Doyoung throws his hands in the air and stares at you with sharp eyes. “Is that why you were afraid that my emblem wouldn’t show up? Because your heart belongs to another. Yeah, I heard Jaehyun wanted to mark you too.”

Men and their constant want to prove something to themselves with their marks. Everyone has a twisted reality of markings now. There have been many others who have tried to mark you, feeling as if lust would be enough to suffice its appearance. As one's Patronus is special to their own protection, a beloved’s Patronus mark holds the same value.

You’re quite at a loss for words, “I was afraid that it wouldn’t show up, not because of myself, but because of you.”

Doyoung points at himself in disbelief. Him? He loves you more than anyone he’s ever encountered, even if you didn’t know it. “I wouldn’t have almost tried it if I wasn’t sure of myself.”

“You don’t love me, Doyoung. I don’t even know if I can even say you romantically like me.” Those words hurt the both of you and it lingers in the room for longer than you’d like.

“Do you think I fuck you meaninglessly like all those other losers you sleep with?” Doyoung steps forward, pulling you into his chest and admiring everything he’s fallen in love with. A pain spreads across his heart as he thinks of you with another person, of someone else kissing you, of someone else making you happy.

“You really don’t feel it in the way I kiss you?” He asks once more and your own stare drops to his shoulder, a bit ashamed to maintain eye contact with such pained eyes.

“And if I did? How would you explain that? That you are actually in love with me?” Your questions pelt him like rocks. As he pushes you on his bed, you pull him down with his tie.

Doyoung drinks you up like fresh water, a crisp and refreshing love that encourages him to reach heights. His hand cups your face and his feather touches reminds you of his gentleness. Your lips taste like sweet honey, dripping and coating him with a sticky sugar.

He’s happier with you and he’s the happiest kissing you. Perhaps, it’s hard for him to express with words, but he’d always hope his actions speak louder. So, his lips press against yours with a whirl of passion and every good feeling that grows in his chest.

The collar of his shirt is wrinkled in your fist and you’re holding him as if you’re afraid of him letting go. Doyoung runs a hand down your torso and lifts the end of your skirt up. A warm hand pushes your legs apart and a finger presses your clit through your cotton panties.

Your mouth opens into a moan and he takes this opportunity to shove his long tongue inside, lapping with your own. As a wet spot forms on your panties, he pulls them to the side and gathers the slick to gently rub your erect clit. His name is lost and muffled in the kiss, but you tap at his chest.

When he breaks away and halts all movement, he looks down over you with a fire burning in his dark orbs. And a confession falls from his swollen lips, “may I mark you?”

“And if it doesn’t show up?” Though, you’re wishing to the most powerful wizards that it does or else your heart would shatter into a million pieces beyond repair.

He bites his lip and every possible outcome scatters his thoughts. It’s too hard to concentrate, so he doesn’t at all. He focuses on your pretty lips and the way you look at him like he’s the only person that matters. “Then, we’ll deal with the consequences later.”

With your quick nod, Doyoung attaches his lips to your neck and harshly sucks at your skin. For the most part, it’s a pleasurable feeling and sends a shiver down your spine. So, he licks and nibbles until he can barely breathe. Your faint scent of patchouli and ginger intoxicates him, wraps him up in a fuzzy coziness that is unmatched.

Your hands unbutton his shirt and a final gentle bite seals his mark. If the love is reciprocated, the emblem would take a moment to form. Doyoung is rather hopeful and excited, as he’s never seen his Patronus before. “You look beautiful.”

“And you look dazed as if someone charmed you.” You giggle and kiss his red lips.

“You’re quite the powerful one, my Puff.” He smiles against your jaw before proceeding to your mess down below. He gives your aching clit a few licks, which cause your body to twist and turn at the sensitive sensation.

“Please, I haven’t felt you in so long.” Whining and tugging at his hair, Doyoung leaves a lasting kiss and gets up to remove his pants.

“Did you miss me?” Doyoung raises a suggestive eyebrow and cocks his head to the side in mockery, a smirk growing on his face.

You reply with a silly response that only he knows and causes him to chuckle, “unfortunately.” And he’s finding every way not to confess his endearments for you.

His dick stands tall and proud against his abdomen, giving it a few jerks as he watches you strip out of your own clothes. You turn around and sit on your knees, with a slight tilt forward and the arch in your back to accentuate your ass.

Doyoung rolls on the protection as quickly as he can. His hands lightly smack your cheeks and slowly enters your dripping hole. His hands grip your hips as he slides deeper into you, both being moaning messes at the delicious feeling.

“Have you always been this big?” You look back at him and to which he devilishly smiles at you.

“You know just the way to fuel my ego,” when his length is fully buried inside of your tight walls, he wraps an arm around your waist and a hand on your tit. “After all the times you’ve been fucked, your pussy is still as tight as ever.”

Doyoung slams hard into you, showing no mercy and causing you to jolt up. He takes every frustration, every feeling of anger, every ounce of jealousy into his thrusts. “But you take me so well, darling. I’ve never seen someone as pretty as you.”

His compliments cause your heart to soar, despite the soreness you’re beginning to feel in your pussy. He’s relentless, bottoming out until his tip is practically in your guts. “Just like that, baby. You’re the only one who fucks me this good.”

He blushes under the low light and leans forward to kiss the top of your head. “My Puff, you’re so sweet to me.” The loud squelch of your tight pussy gripping his dick fills the hot room, “and so wet.”

You’re shamelessly dripping on his green velvet blanket and Doyoung picks up his speed. Your knees give out as you fall face forward into the mattress, hands in fists from the incredible pleasure of every hit. Your ass now in his full view and every tingle of magic lights up in his veins.

Your throat is raw from screaming and moaning, Doyoung holds your hips steady to thrust into a new angle. Automatically, your body twitches as his tip hits your special spot and he’s well aware that you’re close to releasing.

And with his fast thrusts, he asks you an intimate question that is fueled by envy and rage. “If I fuck you the best, then why do you sleep with other men?”

There are no thoughts in your mind to even give him a white lie, to mask the truth of your actions. He’s fucking you into an oblivion that it’s hard to even focus on anything besides pleasure. The books on his shelf begin to tremble as you’re crying out, “I- I don’t know! Fuck, please… ! I’m tipping over.”

“Answer the question or I will stop.” He’s absolutely cynical and you have every reason to believe his threat. Doyoung lifts your limp body upright, against his torso and an arm secured around your middle as before. His hand snakes to your clit, rubbing feathering circles over the neglected bud.

Nonetheless, his single action paired with his tip grazing harshly against the particular spot causes your legs to tremble. “Do you want me to stop?” His threat rings in your ears when you still left him without an answer.

You’re so close, you’re starting to see white. So, you say what your heart tells you and the truth falls from your lips in a loud confession. “Because I wanted you to love me instead! I fucked them to forget about my love for you… fuck, I’m--”

“I’ve got you. Let go of yourself, baby.” Doyoung slows his hips when your walls squeeze around him sporadically. Every book flies out and hits the opposite wall, clattering the floor with heavy academia. However, he repeats your proclamation endlessly in his mind and his heart surges with the most intense romantic desires.

“I do love you, y/n.” He whispers, cumming into his rubber and simply holding you tightly. He lets go of every prideful arrogance in his body, tossing the lame reputation he always tried to hold onto. He didn’t need that if it meant losing you. Doyoung chuckles to himself for being an obvious cliché, announcing one’s love in the midst of a lustful act. He pulls out and gently tucks you into the covers.

Breathless, you’re finally realizing his confession. “You do? Are you sure?” Any subtle movements has your aching lower half in pain, so you settle with resting on his plush pillows and await for him to join you in bed.

All this time, from beginning to now, you’ve been oblivious to his yearning looks across the Great Hall. The intensity of his kisses had been lost upon you completely as you had convinced yourself that he was incompatibly of loving you back. Even now, as you lay in slight doubt, you’re wondering how you managed to have everything fly over your head.

When he discards his used protection and with a quick flick of his wrist, every book finds its original place on the shelf again, he enters the warm covers. Your arms wrap around his neck and you’re admiring each other’s expressions in the low light. He spots the notable twinkle in your eyes and his thumb lightly rubs your cheek.

“If the symbol of my Patronus doesn’t show, I promise to love you harder until it does.” Doyoung leaves the softest, most loving kiss on your lips. He’s more than thankful for the lack of light as he’s bashfully red all over his cheeks.

“Usually, people just give up.” Your voice is harsh, possibly from the deafening screaming of pleasure prior.

Doyoung shakes his head. He’s made too many mistakes in this relationship with you. Sleeping with another. Ignoring your existence. Being too prideful to be seen with another house. All these incidents have made him feel nothing but ugliness and distraught, and pushed you away further than how much he is able to pull you back.

He loves you. He’s in love with you. He’s fallen for you recklessly as you did off your broom the first encounter. You’re everything he’s never been and never will be, yet you don’t care. You’re by his side, despite his spitefulness and you never miss a beat. That innocent youth approach to love, oh how he wishes it never faded, and though he thought it did, it didn’t. You remain true to your character when he fights with himself internally.

“That would be a mistake and I can’t afford to keep making them.” A glossy sheen over Doyoung’s regretful eyes, but you pull him closer and you refuse to let his eyes wander.

A tired harmless sigh escapes your lips and a dreamy haze overcomes you. Besides the reminder of needing to use the bathroom flashing in your mind, there is nothing else you want to dissect. Feelings are too complex to discuss at the moment and the resolve has already passed.

Regardless of the marks appearing, you’re content with the night and for the rest of your days. Kim Doyoung, the Slytherin boy of your dreams, loves you back and the power of that alone beats any spell in those dusty old textbooks.

“Why can’t we lay here forever?” Your heavy eyelids fall slowly and your voice grows small.

Doyoung kisses your shoulder, then your neck. “That’s impossible. I can’t give you forever.” He mumbles against your skin, sending vibrations across your throat.

“You are my forever.” Doyoung halts and is left speechless as a white glowing entity catches his eye. And the absolute perfect outline of his Patronus sits underneath your jaw, brightly shining with iridescent brilliance --- he makes out the outline: a White Swan, representing his love for you. Doyoung smiles to himself and hopes for it to never fade. Perhaps, he can give you forever.

some fun critical questions to think about hehe -

why do you think y/n lied to doyoung about jaehyun confessing? why do you think yuta helped y/n enter the Slytherin dormitories? what is the meaning behind the White Swan Patronus? Why do you think y/n continued to like doyoung after all this time?

there are no right or wrong answers, just something fun to have you thinking a little more about the fic haha if you want, you can send me an ask about it :) but overall, no pressure and thank you for reading! please leave me some feedback if you can! happy new year!