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#liquidation proceedings
if-you-fan-a-fire · 3 years
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“A BRIEF STAY,” Daily British Whig (Kingston, Ont.). February 20, 1911. Page 1. ---- Travers Only Six Hours in Penitentiary. ---- TAKEN TO TORONTO ---- AT MIDNIGHT SATURDAY BY INSPECTOR DUNCAN. ---- Warden Platt Did Not Have Him Clipped - Sensation Over Travers' Removal From Jail - Said He Was Threatened. ---- W. R. Travers, the ex-manager of the Farmers’ Bank, is again in Toronto, and he paid a few hours’ visit to the penitentiary here on Saturday afternoon, and then  was taken back to the Queen city to give further evidence in the bank case in which many prominent men are involved.
After Travers’ arrival here on Saturday afternoon, Deputy Severs took him to the Randolph hotel for dinner, and then to the penitentiary. Owing to the good judgement of Warden Platt, Travers was not clipped or put into prison garb on his arrival as he might have been. The warden had no official notification that Travers was to be immediately taken back to Toronto, but he learned of the fact, so he delayed putting the newly-arrived prisoner through the routine that follow's entrance to the penitentiary, and in so doing he did a considerable for to have sent Travers immediately back to Toronto clipped like convict would have been decidedly hard. 
Travers remained in the office of the chief keeper until the evening, when Inspector Duncan arrived from Toronto with an order of the court for the production of the prisoner. Warden Platt on receiving the order, handed over the bank man to the inspector, who brought him into the city, and took him to the Randolph hotel, where he kept him until midnight, leaving for the west on the 12.25 a.m.. train Sunday.
Travers was well aware that he would be recalled to Toronto, and his entrance to the big prison did not so unnerve him as it would probably have done had he been mitering it to come forth only when he had completed his term of four years and seven and a half months, which will be the equivalent of his six year's sentence, deducting good behavior time and the six weeks he has already served in jail. 
The order to return Travers was made by Judge Winchester, chairman of the general sessions of the peace, who demanded his return as a material witness in the case against Col. James Munro, president of the defunct bank, who is to charge of signing false returns regarding the banks affairs to the government of Ottawa.
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nymphantasia · 1 year
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I tried to make @saintjosie 's "rustic loaf" recipe
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c0nnverse · 6 months
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🤔
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Red Lobster was killed by private equity, not Endless Shrimp
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For the rest of May, my bestselling solarpunk utopian novel THE LOST CAUSE (2023) is available as a $2.99, DRM-free ebook!
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A decade ago, a hedge fund had an improbable viral comedy hit: a 294-page slide deck explaining why Olive Garden was going out of business, blaming the failure on too many breadsticks and insufficiently salted pasta-water:
https://www.sec.gov/Archives/edgar/data/940944/000092189514002031/ex991dfan14a06297125_091114.pdf
Everyone loved this story. As David Dayen wrote for Salon, it let readers "mock that silly chain restaurant they remember from their childhoods in the suburbs" and laugh at "the silly hedge fund that took the time to write the world’s worst review":
https://www.salon.com/2014/09/17/the_real_olive_garden_scandal_why_greedy_hedge_funders_suddenly_care_so_much_about_breadsticks/
But – as Dayen wrote at the time, the hedge fund that produced that slide deck, Starboard Value, was not motivated by dissatisfaction with bread-sticks. They were "activist investors" (finspeak for "rapacious assholes") with a giant stake in Darden Restaurants, Olive Garden's parent company. They wanted Darden to liquidate all of Olive Garden's real-estate holdings and declare a one-off dividend that would net investors a billion dollars, while literally yanking the floor out from beneath Olive Garden, converting it from owner to tenant, subject to rent-shocks and other nasty surprises.
They wanted to asset-strip the company, in other words ("asset strip" is what they call it in hedge-fund land; the mafia calls it a "bust-out," famous to anyone who watched the twenty-third episode of The Sopranos):
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bust_Out
Starboard didn't have enough money to force the sale, but they had recently engineered the CEO's ouster. The giant slide-deck making fun of Olive Garden's food was just a PR campaign to help it sell the bust-out by creating a narrative that they were being activists* to save this badly managed disaster of a restaurant chain.
*assholes
Starboard was bent on eviscerating Darden like a couple of entrail-maddened dogs in an elk carcass:
https://web.archive.org/web/20051220005944/http://alumni.media.mit.edu/~solan/dogsinelk/
They had forced Darden to sell off another of its holdings, Red Lobster, to a hedge-fund called Golden Gate Capital. Golden Gate flogged all of Red Lobster's real estate holdings for $2.1 billion the same day, then pissed it all away on dividends to its shareholders, including Starboard. The new landlords, a Real Estate Investment Trust, proceeded to charge so much for rent on those buildings Red Lobster just flogged that the company's net earnings immediately dropped by half.
Dayen ends his piece with these prophetic words:
Olive Garden and Red Lobster may not be destinations for hipster Internet journalists, and they have seen revenue declines amid stagnant middle-class wages and increased competition. But they are still profitable businesses. Thousands of Americans work there. Why should they be bled dry by predatory investors in the name of “shareholder value”? What of the value of worker productivity instead of the financial engineers?
Flash forward a decade. Today, Dayen is editor-in-chief of The American Prospect, one of the best sources of news about private equity looting in the world. Writing for the Prospect, Luke Goldstein picks up Dayen's story, ten years on:
https://prospect.org/economy/2024-05-22-raiding-red-lobster/
It's not pretty. Ten years of being bled out on rents and flipped from one hedge fund to another has killed Red Lobster. It just shuttered 50 restaurants and declared Chapter 11 bankruptcy. Ten years hasn't changed much; the same kind of snark that was deployed at the news of Olive Garden's imminent demise is now being hurled at Red Lobster.
Instead of dunking on free bread-sticks, Red Lobster's grave-dancers are jeering at "Endless Shrimp," a promotional deal that works exactly how it sounds like it would work. Endless Shrimp cost the chain $11m.
Which raises a question: why did Red Lobster make this money-losing offer? Are they just good-hearted slobs? Can't they do math?
Or, you know, was it another hedge-fund, bust-out scam?
Here's a hint. The supplier who provided Red Lobster with all that shrimp is Thai Union. Thai Union also owns Red Lobster. They bought the chain from Golden Gate Capital, last seen in 2014, holding a flash-sale on all of Red Lobster's buildings, pocketing billions, and cutting Red Lobster's earnings in half.
Red Lobster rose to success – 700 restaurants nationwide at its peak – by combining no-frills dining with powerful buying power, which it used to force discounts from seafood suppliers. In response, the seafood industry consolidated through a wave of mergers, turning into a cozy cartel that could resist the buyer power of Red Lobster and other major customers.
This was facilitated by conservation efforts that limited the total volume of biomass that fishers were allowed to extract, and allocated quotas to existing companies and individual fishermen. The costs of complying with this "catch management" system were high, punishingly so for small independents, bearably so for large conglomerates.
Competition from overseas fisheries drove consolidation further, as countries in the global south were blocked from implementing their own conservation efforts. US fisheries merged further, seeking economies of scale that would let them compete, largely by shafting fishermen and other suppliers. Today's Alaskan crab fishery is dominated by a four-company cartel; in the Pacific Northwest, most fish goes through a single intermediary, Pacific Seafood.
These dominant actors entered into illegal collusive arrangements with one another to rig their markets and further immiserate their suppliers, who filed antitrust suits accusing the companies of operating a monopsony (a market with a powerful buyer, akin to a monopoly, which is a market with a powerful seller):
https://www.classaction.org/news/pacific-seafood-under-fire-for-allegedly-fixing-prices-paid-to-dungeness-crabbers-in-pacific-northwest
Golden Gate bought Red Lobster in the midst of these fish wars, promising to right its ship. As Goldstein points out, that's the same promise they made when they bought Payless shoes, just before they destroyed the company and flogged it off to Alden Capital, the hedge fund that bought and destroyed dozens of America's most beloved newspapers:
https://pluralistic.net/2021/10/16/sociopathic-monsters/#all-the-news-thats-fit-to-print
Under Golden Gate's management, Red Lobster saw its staffing levels slashed, so diners endured longer wait times to be seated and served. Then, in 2020, they sold the company to Thai Union, the company's largest supplier (a transaction Goldstein likens to a Walmart buyout of Procter and Gamble).
Thai Union continued to bleed Red Lobster, imposing more cuts and loading it up with more debts financed by yet another private equity giant, Fortress Investment Group. That brings us to today, with Thai Union having moved a gigantic amount of its own product through a failing, debt-loaded subsidiary, even as it lobbies for deregulation of American fisheries, which would let it and its lobbying partners drain American waters of the last of its depleted fish stocks.
Dayen's 2020 must-read book Monopolized describes the way that monopolies proliferate, using the US health care industry as a case-study:
https://pluralistic.net/2021/01/29/fractal-bullshit/#dayenu
After deregulation allowed the pharma sector to consolidate, it acquired pricing power of hospitals, who found themselves gouged to the edge of bankruptcy on drug prices. Hospitals then merged into regional monopolies, which allowed them to resist pharma pricing power – and gouge health insurance companies, who saw the price of routine care explode. So the insurance companies gobbled each other up, too, leaving most of us with two or fewer choices for health insurance – even as insurance prices skyrocketed, and our benefits shrank.
Today, Americans pay more for worse healthcare, which is delivered by health workers who get paid less and work under worse conditions. That's because, lacking a regulator to consolidate patients' interests, and strong unions to consolidate workers' interests, patients and workers are easy pickings for those consolidated links in the health supply-chain.
That's a pretty good model for understanding what's happened to Red Lobster: monopoly power and monopsony power begat more monopolies and monoposonies in the supply chain. Everything that hasn't consolidated is defenseless: diners, restaurant workers, fishermen, and the environment. We're all fucked.
Decent, no-frills family restaurant are good. Great, even. I'm not the world's greatest fan of chain restaurants, but I'm also comfortably middle-class and not struggling to afford to give my family a nice night out at a place with good food, friendly staff and reasonable prices. These places are easy pickings for looters because the people who patronize them have little power in our society – and because those of us with more power are easily tricked into sneering at these places' failures as a kind of comeuppance that's all that's due to tacky joints that serve the working class.
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If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:
https://pluralistic.net/2024/05/23/spineless/#invertebrates
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6esiree · 1 month
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Getting Dared to Call Them Daddy
Summary: You get dared to call Alastor, Lucifer, and Husk daddy.
Warnings: Swearing, slightly NSFW (but it’s mostly suggestive?) A little bit of rubbing on Lucifer’s part. MINORS DO NOT READ!!!
Alastor:
You and Alastor weren’t exactly acquainted with each other. You found it hard to talk to him, the way he always smiled making him incredibly hard to read. That’s why you never bothered him—well, until now, because Angel Dust had dared you to do the unthinkable. “Call him daddy,” he whispered, watching as the expression on your face contorted into one of horror, “I dare ya to call the Radio Demon daddy.”
You couldn’t back out, not when you had told Angel that you weren’t a pussy upon agreeing to play Truth or Dare. And fuck, you weren’t! This is what you said to yourself as you walked over to the bar, watching how Alastor nursed a drink. Fortunately, Husk was on break, so whatever happened next would stay between you, him, and Angel, who watched in anticipation from the parlor with a shit-eating grin.
“Hi,” You said, tentatively stepping behind the bar to help yourself to some brandy.
Alastor hummed, acknowledging your presence as he set down his glass, which was empty. You observed the way he looked at you, his eyes half-lidded and the smile he always wore on his face more relaxed.
He proceeded to tap on the empty glass with his claws, silently asking you to pour him another drink. You did just that, feeling yourself become less nervous as you realized he was drunk. Fuck, it was now or never, you thought.
“There you go, daddy,” You said, making sure to set the glass down at the last part.
Alastor’s hand froze on the counter, his claws barely grazing the drink in front of him. You continued serving yourself your own drink as if nothing had happened, which only served to further confuse the poor man.
“What was that, darling?” Alastor asked, the usual static behind his voice suddenly absent.
You set the bottle of brandy down and picked up your glass, quirking a brow at him as your lips settled on the rim. You tried not to wince when the liquid traveled steadily down your throat. God, brandy was gross.
“What was what?” You asked, hoping he didn’t hear the way your heart-rate picked up.
“You said something as you gave me my drink,” Alastor said, his ears twitching.
“‘There you go, your brandy?’” You supposedly repeated, innocently blinking at him.
Alastor was drunk, he knew that, but he swore he heard you utter something else. However, considering that he was unaware of your dare and that you had never bothered him in the past, he had no choice but to believe you.
“My, I am hearing…strange things,” Alastor shook his head, picking up his drink as you stepped back from the bar, “My apologies, darling.”
“Don’t worry about it,” You said, smiling at him tenderly before turning away to shoot Angel a threatening look, who was struggling to stifle his laughter.
Alastor remained in his seat at the bar, his face forward but his eyes following you until you left his line of sight. It was at that moment that he decided that this would be his last drink, the way his face flushed and his pants tightened as the seemingly false memory of you calling him daddy circulated his mind solidifying his decision.
Lucifer:
The day Lucifer visited the hotel, you were immediately captivated by him. Just like his daughter, he did not live up to his hellish title; it’s no wonder Lilith relinquished her halo, his way of being triumphing the looming threat of eternal damnation. You would have done the same, you admitted to Angel Dust during a game of Truth or Dare, never anticipating that he would weaponize this information.
“Go and call the big boss of Hell daddy,” Angel said, a wicked smile on his face. “I dare ya.”
You stared at Lucifer from the parlor, observing the way his back slightly arched as he leaned over the bar. Fuck, this was not going to be easy, and Angel knew that. The last thing you wanted to do was give him the satisfaction of winning the game, though. So without further thought, you stood up and made your way to him, flipping off Angel as he chuckled behind you.
Lucifer straightened his back upon hearing someone approaching, the grip on his glass tightening when you graced his eyes. He had only interacted with you a few times, so naturally, he was nervous. Plus, you decided to sit right beside him when nobody else was at the bar. It was a strange choice that you had accidentally made, but you couldn’t scoot over without causing any offense.
“I—uh—hello?” Lucifer said, coughing in a poor attempt to cover his stuttering.
“Mind if I join you?” You asked, leaning over the counter to pour yourself a drink, Husk absent due to the late hours.
You almost sighed in disappointment as you realized Lucifer’s choice of liquor was whiskey, but it was too late to back out. You had already popped open the bottle, observing how the amber liquid steadily collected in your glass as you poured yourself a drink. Throughout all of this, you could feel Lucifer’s stare on you, his mouth slightly agape while he seemingly debated his response.
“No! No—of course not,” Lucifer quickly said when you sat back down, adding the next part with a nervous laugh, “I must have looked pitiful for you to come over here, huh?“
You held your drink against your chest, shaking your head at his question.
“Oh my goodness, no!” You said, placing a hand on his shoulder in reassurance, but it was only for a split second, “Not at all.”
Apparently, you had taken Lucifer by surprise, the way he knocked down his drink a testament of that. His face flushed in embarrassment as you whined at the sensation of whiskey dripping down onto your lap. The worst part is that you looked like you had pissed yourself, the amber liquid coating your crotch and running down your thighs. Ah, fuck, but you couldn’t get mad at him.
“Fuck! I’m so, so sorry!” Lucifer yelped, getting up from his seat and jumping over the bar to get a rag.
The man was in a state of panic, so much so that he failed to realize what he did next. Instead of handing over the rag to you, Lucifer crouched down and tried to dry the whiskey off of your lower half, practically massaging you through the denim of your shorts. You could only stare at him in shock, trying to keep your legs shut as he dragged the rough material back and forth against your crotch.
It wasn’t until halfway into the act that Lucifer became aware of the compromising situation he had inadvertently designed. You looked down at him through your lashes as his hand stilled, watching how his eyes stared blankly through your stomach. He probably felt like an idiot, and while you didn’t want to further embarrass him, you decided to take advantage of his flustered state.
You slightly parted your legs, immediately snapping Lucifer out of his trance. Before he could stutter out an apology, you reached down and grabbed ahold of his jaw, forcing him to make eye contact with you. He blinked, an unreadable expression on his face as your hand slithered down the column of his throat, feeling the way it bobbed underneath your palm in anticipation.
Of course, you remembered a certain spider was watching from the parlor, so you didn’t do anything inappropriate. In fact, all you did was hook your fingers under Lucifer’s bowtie, encouraging him to stand up until he was at level with your face. You savored the way his ragged breaths fanned against your lips, but only for a bit. Smiling, you relinquished your grip on him.
“I’ll forgive you,” You said, watching how relief washed over Lucifer’s features, “So long as you let me call you daddy.”
“Oh, fuck me,” Lucifer said without further thought.
You blinked, definitely not expecting such a response—but hey, you weren’t complaining. When Angel howled in the background, tossing his head back with a hand over his heart, Lucifer jumped back and began to profusely apologize, unable to believe how little self-restraint he had. You tried to assure him that everything was alright, but the way he practically begged you to fuck him haunted him as he laid in bed later that night, reliving the scene in his dreams, albeit a more explicit version.
Husk:
Husk hardly ever spoke to you, but he indulged in your presence nonetheless. You were the least intrusive individual he had ever met, a trait which was incredibly lacking among Hell’s population. That is why on the rare occasions you got drunk together, he revealed something about himself, chuckling as you listened in awe. His favorite thing to do was play cards with you, though, especially as you had a taste for the typical Vegas experience before your death.
You and Husk weren’t close, however, just closer than most of the residents were with him. Still, Angel Dust suspected the old man harbored a soft spot for you, observing the way his pupils dilated whenever his eyes settled on you. So like a true menace, he decided to utilize the worst tactic possible to confirm his suspicions: a game of Truth or Dare.
“I dare ya to call ol’ whiskers daddy,” Angel said, his gold tooth glistening under the dim light.
You felt your heart plummet into your stomach, the very thought of calling Husk something…suggestive frightening you to the core. You had spent a long time trying to build whatever you two had, so was something as silly as a dare worth risking destroying that?
When Angel said that he knew you’d pussy out upon noticing your reaction, all your worries immediately vanished; you weren’t going to lose to that fucker, not when he looked so smug. Unfortunately, the need to prove him wrong was only enough fuel to get you to the bar.
“Somethin’ the matter?” Husk asked as you took a seat.
Your body language gave you away, but even if you tried to hide how nervous you were, Husk had a knack for reading people. Plus, he knew you enough to know that something was up with you.
“Ah, no, just came over here for a drink,” You said, nervously wringing your hands on your lap.
“What d’ya want?” Husk asked, unconvinced but also not going to push you on the topic, “Somethin’ sweet?”
“You know me so well,” You said, offering him a smile.
“‘Course I do,” Husk chuckled, whipping up a cocktail for you and sliding it across the counter in no time. “Here ya go, doll.”
You accepted the drink, bringing the glass to your awaiting lips, closing your eyes and sighing in content as the salt on the rim mixed with the fruity concoction. Husk never failed to make something as putrid as alcohol taste good, and he knew that, a pleased look on his face as he absorbed your reaction.
When you opened your eyes, you swore he had a look of adoration in his face, but perhaps that was just you. Anyway, as you allowed the alcohol to do its job, you thought about clever ways to call Husk daddy, albeit in vain. Fuck it, you were just going to have to say it, and if he reacted poorly, you could just blame Angel.
“Is it to ya likin’?” Husk asked, settling a hand on his hip as you finished your drink.
You looked up at Husk, face flushed as the alcohol warmed you up…that and the fact that you were about to say something that would most likely shock him. He quirked an eyebrow at you, anticipating your response; but instead, you stuck out your tongue, lapping at the few grains of salt that had collected on your bottom lip. When his eyes dilated at the seductive action, you decided now was the time to strike.
“Sorry, it was just so good,” You said, perching your chin on your palm as you added the next part, “Thanks, daddy.”
Husk had opened his mouth to say ‘You’re welcome,’ but when you called him daddy, he was only able to muster a squeak. You never thought that an old man with a rich baritone voice was capable of producing such an adorable sound, but here you were, biting your lip as you tried not to react. Husk was already pissed, though, especially as Angel laughed unapologetically from the parlor. But at least you would make up for it soon, the sight of you writhing underneath him from overstimulation compensation enough.
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onlyswan · 10 months
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summary: in which you make jungkook’s world spin and you tend to… make him a little too dizzy.
> idol!jungkook x reader / est. relationship, fluff, angst / word count: 7k
> content/warnings: yea shirtless jungkook should be a warning… one (1) spank then he kisses it better, also gives a kiss to that lil bow on oc’s undies >:( + a flashback of oc crying and him getting stressed out bcs oc is a careless brat fr
> in which masterlist!
note: hehe i’m here <3 this drabble is basically just oc in a mood and jungkook being the sweetest bf ever 🤨 idk how it got this long either heh it didn’t feel that way at all while i wrote-edited? but i hope u enjoy and i’d love to hear ur thoughts 🥺 reblogs/feedback are appreciated !! <3
“oh my god- fuck!”
you cover your mouth in shock, squeezing your eyes shut and flinching at the ear-splitting sound that bounces off the walls of the apartment.
jungkook is rendered frozen, eyebrows furrowed and jaw slacked, staring down at his shirt largely stained by the chocolate milk you were walking around with after brunch.
“damn…”
his eyes are irritable when they communicate with yours.
“baby! really? did it have to be the white one?”
but seconds later, they become worried and calculating — wandering all over the tiled floor, and then your bare feet infront of his slides-clad ones, surrounded by shattered pieces of ceramic.
the collateral damage. an unforeseen tragedy.
suffice to say, jungkook woke up this morning blissfully unaware of the turbulent storm threatening to make a playground out of your mind. it’s craving to feed destruction, and here he is living with you under the same roof, an unfortunate casualty from your antics.
the hand-painted mug, wet from the condensation, slipped away from your hands when you accidentally collided with his tough build at the intersection of the living room and the kitchen. this… wasn’t part of the plan. the plan was a little spill and this is a landslide.
“that was expensive too.” you utter wistfully, chest deflating as you release an exasperated breath. “sorry. i’ll clean up everything. just stay there and i’ll- when did i last see the broom-”
his doe eyes grow two times its size when you start looking around the apartment in search of the broom, and perhaps something you can use to pat yourself and jungkook dry, causing your feet to unconsciously shift on the treacherous ground.
“ba-baby! don’t move! you’re going to hurt yourself. are you crazy?” he interrupts you with a hiss, voice stern as his hands curl around your arms to hold you steady. “it’s okay. this is nothing, i’m not mad… just stay still, understand?”
you nod slowly as he lets go, eyebrows knitting together to convey confusion when he starts pulling his shirt over his head, revealing miles of bare skin and planes of defined muscles on a perfect silhouette. perfect because it’s jungkook.
alright… to see him half-naked wasn’t one of your intentions, but you’re definitely not one to complain.
“tsk, i think i need to shower again.”
figuring that the internet has a solution to every problem one could think of, jungkook has decided to accept the horror that has happened to his shirt. what was it again? salt? vinegar? baking soda? powder? fuck it, he’ll search for it later.
he throws caution to the wind by using it to wipe his damp torso, brushing it over his tan skin glistening with a sheen of the liquid that you wittingly spilled. he winces at the uncomfortable stickiness that could be felt across his stomach, but he can’t help but to laugh when he sees how it further accentuated his abs.
and if only you were in a chipper mood today, you would be laughing along with him. would’ve taken over cleaning him up, apologized with a kiss on his waist. too bad you’re not.
eventually, he gives up on erasing on the feeling, proceeding to fold the shirt in halves.
“what are you doing?” you snap, putting on a guise of harsher irritation over your dreamy stares at your boyfriend’s glorious physique. “are we just supposed to stand here forever like idiots?”
“what is this? why are you so grumpy today?” he questions with a frown, patting your cheek with the soft cottony fabric because the splash managed to reach your face unbeknownst to you.
and then he bends down to place the folded shirt infront of your feet, looking up to you with his galaxy-filled eyes to say, “here- come on. stand here while i clean up.”
you stand isolated on the safe zone he created, childishly pouting with your arms crossed over chest as you wait for him to pick up your slippers in the bedroom.
the simple answer to jungkook’s question is you’re bored and in a bad mood. the more complex answer would be you came up with a one-man game you can only win if you successfully piss your boyfriend off, but you’re too scared to pull off anything that will legitimately make him upset with you.
because the last time you made him angry, it hasn’t been… that long ago. he’s been keeping a closer eye on you since then, and you’ve been trying to be good. keyword being trying. after all, you did lost his car key… at a beach three hours away from home. you searched the entire shore — retraced your steps, made your knees and palms bleed digging through the rocky sand, curled up by the waves to wallow in self-blame and the smell of salt-air defeat. you were nearly in tears as you listened to the call ring for what felt like an eternity, unsure if he already wrapped up the company meeting he mentioned to you the day before.
you still remember the desperate words you greeted him with instead of ‘hello’.
“babe, promise me you won’t be mad.”
“____, you didn’t even tell me you were coming here! care to explain that to me first? huh?”
your name, and not ‘baby’? heavens above have mercy; you’re fucked.
jungkook presses the heels of his palms over his eyes to alleviate the dull throbbing of his head, breathing heavily to compose himself, but he can’t disguise the frustration deeply embedded in his voice.
“you scared me!”
not yelling, but tone evidently very upset with you. somehow, that makes you feel worse.
“i had to make up an excuse infront of everyone and drive here fast. i was so worried of you being here all alone when it gets dark!”
“it’s your car so i thought i had to let you know right away. i’m sorry.” you chew at your bottom lip anxiously, eyes brimming with tears as you barely muster up the courage to observe how he’s handling this.
your heart pounds louder in your chest when he finally looks down at you, guilty and gloomy, sat on a wooden bench painted yellow. it drops to your stomach when you see the sullen expression painting his face a light shade of red.
“where did you lose it?”
you open your mouth, but no words come out. you can only manage to point at the shore with your disoriented eyes, and he traces the direction with his. the majestic orange sky where the sun descends below the horizon fails to be recognized by your foggy, distracted minds.
it’s silent for a few beats, then he huffs, breathing out a sarcastic chuckle before burying his face in hands.
“baby, please. please. are you sure you’re not pranking me right now?”
“no! do you think i’d joke like this? i really tried my best to find it!” you sniffle, roughly wiping away the lone tear that escapes your eye. you’re almost too humiliated to continue talking, volume falling a few notches above a whisper. “but the waves were getting stronger.”
he vehemently shakes his head, rendered speechless and stuttering, malfunctioning. he doesn’t think he has ever imagined this type of scenario before. “this is crazy. really… this is unbelievable… how did this even happen?”
he exhales loudly before removing his hands, revealing a calmer exterior. be that as it may, his skin is more flushed, all the way to his ears and down to his neck, where his veins have become noticeably prominent.
“i mean, what else can we do about it? i’ll request for a new one.”
“but are we just going to leave the car here?”
“did you leave anything in there?”
“i left my bag, but…” you pat the pockets of your skirt to check if your valuables didn’t meet the same fate as the car key. “i brought my phone and wallet with me.”
he nods. “then i’ll call a towing service.”
you pout.
“it’s such a bother.”
feeling exhausted after burning a concerning amount of energy in search of the missing item, you stand on wobbly feet to loop your arms around his waist.
maybe it’s to coax him into forgiving you. maybe it’s to make yourself feel better, nuzzle your face on his chest to drive away the anxiety weighing on your shoulders. but as it’s being lifted off, so is the barrier withholding your salty tears.
“i’m so careless. i’m sorry. i’m sorry. i should’ve drove my car instead.”
“ye- no, that’s not…” he cuts himself off with a sigh.
he puts an arm around you, pushing his hair back and repeatedly carding his fingers through it out of habit.
“seriously, baby… you stress me out so much, do you know that? you’re always wandering around places you’re not familiar with… this is secluded. it’s dangerous. you could get hurt if you bump into the wrong people… really, i’m just relieved it’s not yourself that you lost this time!”
the recollection of old flashbacks playing in his mind like a movie reel elicits a throaty chuckle from him, low and rough, the vibrations of his chest rudely awakening the butterflies in your stomach.
“you couldn’t even send me a text. you didn’t turn on your location. i would’ve lost my fucking mind again… did you even thought of that? or is that what you wanted, huh? baby? you enjoy driving me crazy like this?”
and the confession tucked inside his scolding obliterates any coherent thoughts in your head, causing you to lose control of your whirlwind of emotions.
“this isn’t fair. you said you won’t be mad.” you wail out in response, tears fiercely leaking from your eyes akin to a rainstorm. “i didn’t know this would happen!”
he clicks his tongue, gingerly caressing your wet cheeks with his thumb, then with the rest of his fingers, and the paw of his jacket, because the streams just seem to have no plans of ceasing. his wide eyes worriedly scans your tear-stained face, heart squeezed painfully by the restrained sobs forcefully ripping themselves from your throat.
“shhh, shh. don’t cry- don’t cry. i’m not mad, i was just worried about you.”
“jungkook, you’re lying.” you whine. “don’t lie to me. i don’t like it.”
he slowly blinks at you, head hanging low as to compose his thoughts before he reconnects with your eyes. a faint smile tugs at the corners of his lips before his tongue unconsciously sweeps over them, its tip catching the silver ring piercing through his skin to play with it.
a moment of silence, thick with restlessness and anticipation, harder to breathe with the unique smell of the salt-air entering and leaving your lungs.
you feel small under his stoic gaze. you want to sit back down and cry harder.
your boyfriend is mad. your boyfriend is infuriatingly hot even when he’s disappointed in you. you need to dig a hole in the sand and live there forever. after everything, these are the only thoughts left running in your head.
“okay, fine. you lost the key of our car in the ocean, ____. but what if someone already found it by chance?” he cocks his head to the side, briefly peering at the road behind you.
he knows that it’s no use. even if he does see the white jeep wheeling by, is he supposed to assume that he can outrun it by some heaven-granted miracle?
“what then? hm…? what else can we do? i guess it could be getting stolen right now and we don’t even know. you parked so far away.”
god, please, not your favorite car.
“it’s not only the car. i still have important documents left in the compartment too.” this only dawns on him now, judging by the look of distress written on his face. he suddenly slaps his thigh, and you flinch a little. “fuck! i should’ve cleaned sooner!”
“then you are mad.” you arrive at a conclusion, chin wobbling as you sniffle. “about a lot of things.”
you resist the urge to stomp your feet. you want to throw a tantrum so bad. tell him that he shouldn’t be keeping such things in the car in the first place, that he owns a safe for fuck’s sake, but you know you can’t get away with shifting the blame because you messed up horribly in comparison.
“i get it. i’m sorry… i take full responsibility this time.”
“shit, baby.” he deeply sighs.
it becomes quiet again. he just looks at your face with knitted eyebrows, not saying anything more, and you try your best to cut off your crying, not to act conscious, but your eyes still fall on the sand. they stay there for a few beats to avoid the intensity of his gaze.
he almost sounds pained when he finally speaks. “how can i stay mad at you when you’re crying?”
he tilts up your chin, and your glassy eyes, sparkling with a new wave of tears, look at him beseechingly.
the setting sun. an eternal witness to a brand new day of humans being humans. it kisses your skin with its golden light, bathing your figure to radiate an angelic glow that drives him to consider once more that you could just be an enchanting character across dreams and the year is still 2017.
you sniffle again, brushing off his hand. sometimes you despise that jungkook brings out messiest, most unstable side of you. you know that he practically signed up for this, and he will always love you the same, love you even more. but that doesn’t take away the fact that you’re so embarrassed.
“but i’m not crying just to make you feel bad, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“yah, that wasn’t what i meant?” he frowns, eyes softening at your reply. “of course. i know that.”
the cracks in your voice, he seals with a soft kiss on your lips, tender and swollen caused by the onslaught of your sharp teeth.
“anyway, i can take care of replacing it. i mean, it’s not like it can get stolen just like that, right…?”
he sounds rather nervous convincing the both of you.
“but i’m most worried about you. i can lose everything but you.” his tattooed arm pulls you closer, casting aside the tension by leaving not even an inch of space between your bodies. he tenderly rubs your back to console you, and another kiss is granted to your temple, his soothing voice slightly muffled as his lips stay glued to you. “did i make you cry? i’m sorry, baby, i’m sorry… it’s okay. things like this can happen.”
“no, i’m sorry.” you aggressively shake your head and he carries on with wiping your cheeks, the back of his hand brushing off the tears that drip across your chin. he dries his hand on the hem of his jacket only to get it wet all over again.
“let’s just learn from this and move on. promise me that you’ll be more careful next time, okay? you can do that, right?”
jungkook does scold you every now and then, but although you stress him out, he would hate it if he’s not the first person you call when you’re in trouble. he would hate it if you act nonchalant and secretly cry when you’re hurt. but most of all, he can’t imagine a life in which you don’t make his world spin, much as he tends to get too dizzy at times.
your defiant hum makes his tense shoulders drop in disappointment.
“there should be a bus stop somewhere, i’ll just go home on my own. i don’t want to keep stressing you out.”
you will yourself to break free from his embrace, dragging yourself away to leave behind a trail of footprints in the sand, and he knows he’ll be running after you today, too.
“oh? you better stop right there!” he warns with a hand over his hip.
you become smaller and smaller in his eyes with every tick of the clock, much like how the sun is gradually getting swallowed by the ocean.
“i’ll get angry for real if you disappear from my sight. really, i’m not joking!”
angry? what a joke. you know that he’d cry blood searching for you if you get lost.
“oh? you’re really not going to stop?!”
jungkook’s voice fall on deaf ears, except that of the dog leashed to a tree that stands infront of a humble home. it seethingly barks at him from many meters away.
“fucking shit. i need alcohol.” he chuckles to himself, rubbing his tired eyes. “____, i swear, you’re getting too stubborn these days. what should i do with you?”
but you’re too far away to hear him, and so, he answers himself.
“eh, it is what it is.”
the wind blows with a quiet whistle, deadly as it fuels the roaring waves.
“AH! nuh-uh!” he exclaims, jaw dropping in alarm when he sees an urgent reason to chase after you, putting those leg days at the gym to good use.
you jump, a squeak leaving your mouth when out of nowhere, a solicitous palm smooths over your behind, sliding down to the back of your thighs to hold down your rippling skirt.
but you’re determined to be unyielding, eyes shooting daggers at jungkook. “leave me alone. i can do it myself.”
“baby, isn’t that a little rude? is that how you say ‘thank you’?”
“thank you. now let’s go our separate ways.”
and just like that, you’re walking away again.
“shit.” he curses quietly through gritted teeth, pulling at his hair. “babe, please come back… i’m sorry! i didn’t mean that!”
“jungkook! how many times do i need to tell you to turn off faucet properly?!”
you’re hot on jungkook’s tail as he makes his way to the laundry room beside the kitchen, carrying a laundry basket over his hip. he’s still shirtless, only clad in a different pair of shorts after a quick shower.
“the bathroom sink was close to overflowing! again!”
“i know what you’re doing.”
“what? what am i doing?”
the basket touches the ground, standing beside the dryer, and then he turns to face you, eyebrows shooting up. “picking a fight with me won’t work today.”
“why?” your tone borders on a whine.
“what do you mean ‘why’?” he laughs in jest. “why? why do you want to fight with me so bad?”
“i don’t know.” you exhale loudly, rolling your eyes and shrugging. “just because!”
“well, that’s not very convincing, is it?” he teases you with a grin, proceeding to open the dryer to dump the fresh laundry in the basket. the clothes you wore in the past week once again soaked up the sweet, floral scent the people around you distinctly recognizes to be your own and jungkook’s.
“i know, but i’m done playing now. you’re not hearing me.” you close your eyes in frustration, recounting the other times you had to say these exact words. “you’re going to flood our house.”
“okay, okay. i won’t forget to double-check it from now on. i promise.”
“sure, that’s what you also said last time.” you indignantly scoff, crossing your arms over your chest. “i’m not turning it off for you anymore. if we get flooded, i’m leaving you. i’m moving out.”
your threat puts a halt to his movements for a split second before he’s adorably replying in a sing-song voice. “then i’m going with you.”
“no, you’re not.”
and it doesn’t come as a shock to you that jungkook doesn’t take ‘no’ for an answer.
“huh! good luck trying to stop me.” he slams the door of the dryer shut, standing up straight. “it’s not easy getting rid of me. you know that.”
he walks to the middle of the room to get a good view of you at the entrance. with the other resting on his hip, he lies his palm flat over the counter, outstretched arm cascading with varied colors of ink in sharp lines and swirling curves.
fuck, he has to know what he’s doing — flexing his muscles like that, not playing fair.
“aigoo, look at you glaring at me. you want to fight?”
and you’d feel intimidated by his challenging stare, the quirk of his eyebrow, his teeth sinking on his bottom lip… only if he didn’t blink to rake a stare over your body, lingering on your smooth legs that couldn’t be covered by your mere underwear. only if they didn’t flicker back to your face, and only if he didn’t smirk like a lovesick fool.
“so cute.” he chuckles. “you’re totally my type.”
“shut up.” you roll your eyes at the random compliment. “i know, i already get that a lot.”
his smile then fades, not so thrilled with the reminder that it’s so easy to fall in love with you, and therefore anyone would die to take his place. he knows that they hover around you like moths to a flame when he’s not there. well, he really can’t blame them, can he? you’re so fucking attractive.
“what does that mean…? who else is saying it, huh? tell me. i think i have a few guesses.”
“does it matter?” you stare at him blankly, which then turns into a piercing glare. “jungkook! i was just talking about you not paying enough attention. look at you proving me right!”
the stomp of your feet on the floor tells him that you’ve reached a level of frustration near to inducing a flood of tears.
oh, he truly got called out, huh?
“i’m sorry- i’m sorry. i admit that. i’m sorry, my love. i was just joking around. i’m listening well now.” he winces guiltily, beckoning you to be where he is. “come here then.”
“i don’t want to.” you stay rooted in your spot. “who do you think you are?”
“m-me…? i’m your boyfriend. boyfriend!” he points at himself, index finger repeatedly poking his bare chest to emphasize his point. his arm then drops to his side. his doe eyes widen as he breathes out a sigh of disbelief. “oh, i’m really getting upset now?”
you bite back a smile. the sweet taste of victory.
you can’t be the only one, can you?
“aish, i see you’re having your way again.” he chuckles, taking it upon himself to cross the distance between you. his hands find purchase on the curves of your waist, and every nerve in your body turns into a live wire. “let’s just go out today. do you want to practice boxing at the gym with me?”
didn’t he just watch you do arms day this morning? does he think you have the same stamina as him? you make a face of disapproval and shake your head.
“shall we go to a rage room again then? break more stuff?” he playfully sticks his tongue out, and you glare once more.
for the record, you loved that mug.
“boring.”
“and fighting with me is fun?”
you purse your lips into a thin line. “well, it’s not boring.”
“of course.” he laughs, softly squeezing your waist, pads of his thumbs mindlessly tracing shapes over the fabric of your top.
all of a sudden, he’s tugging you closer to envelope you in his embrace, voice slightly muffled as he sweetly talks. “are you mad at me for real? i’m sorry. sorry, sorry, sorry. sorry. i’ll really be more mindful of the things you remind me about, i swear… i don’t like fighting. it breaks my heart when you cry.”
what is this five foot ten man with bulging biceps, tattoo sleeve, and piercings doing here in the crook of your neck — affectionately nuzzling his face on your skin and telling you in a baby voice that he doesn’t like fighting?
you don’t know, but you feel good.
and his bare body is so comfortingly soft and warm.
he draws back for a kiss but his nose and lips only graze your cheek when you turn away, and you don’t see the sadness that flashes across his face.
“so what i’m hearing is… you don’t like fighting with me because i’m too sensitive? is that the truth?”
“no!” he perks up to interject without hesitation, shaking his head. “but i don’t think that’s a bad thing anyway… being sensitive.”
but you admit being a crybaby. you cry when you’re angry.
that’s when jungkook distinguishes the glint of mischief swimming in your irises. he feels dizzy after having his heart drop to his stomach.
“no. no, no.”
his mirthful grin returns, revealing his perfect set of teeth.
“ahh, i’m stressed!” he closes his eyes, throwing his head back, chest puffing up when he breathes in then out. “i knew it. no, i’m not falling for this trap!”
then he flees the room carrying the laundry basket, leaving you doubled over and covering your mouth to silence your giggles of amusement.
“i’m hanging the laundry now!”
“how dare you walk away from me?!”
“you can’t follow me!”
“i’m not.” you scoff, purposely bumping your hips against his. “i’ll vacuum the living room.”
“where are you going? gym?” you genuinely begin to sulk, watching your boyfriend slide into a baggy pair of bleached denim pants. “are you leaving me here?”
he avoids your inquiring eyes, ignoring you as he pulls up his zipper and does the button. you pout when he walks further away to pull out a black shirt from the clothing rack.
“is that it? are you tired of me already?”
he tosses its hanger in the basket where you discard the empty ones before wearing the final piece of clothing, covering himself fully for the first time today.
you sigh, feeling dejected. “you don’t love me anymore?”
and jungkook needs to physically restrain himself so he won’t grab your face and say ‘i love you’ over and over again until he runs out of breath.
you leave the closet to follow him to the bedroom, where he sits on the edge of the mattress to put on his socks.
you stand by him, patience quickly running thin. “hello?”
he brushes away the non-existent dirt on the left sock before switching his legs to put on the right one.
“did i turn invisible?”
your eyebrows furrow in disappointment. this isn’t how fighting works. you need a reaction at the very least.
you tug at the sleeve of his shirt, starting to get annoyed, already planning your exit if he continues this act. “you’re hurting my feelings. you’re not even going to look at me?”
he mumbles, and you almost fail to piece his phrase together. “can’t, you’re too pretty.”
his big brown eyes faintly glimmer with hope when he looks up at you, puckering his rose-tinted lips and making kissing sounds.
your sweet and clingy boyfriend, he’s making this too difficult.
a tsunami of affection washes over you, and it becomes impossible for you not to crack at his cheekiness then. “jungkook, you’re impossible!”
atleast he tried to shoot his shot.
“tsk, see? i thought so!” he grumbles, snapping the elastic band on his ankle. “just want one kiss.”
he disappears into the closet again.
he returns not a minute later, unceremoniously placing a white bucket hat on your head before tugging it down to obstruct your vision.
“hey!”
you hastily take it off, scowling at your laughing boyfriend who turns out to be already wearing a black bucket hat of his own.
“you’re bored, aren’t you? let’s go out, have some sun.”
“no.”
you reply exactly as your boyfriend predicted you would.
jungkook captures your wrist to slip his credit card on your palm, folding your fingers over it, but they aren’t enough to hide the black rectangular thing you can use to buy the world with if you wanted to. your amusement spills out as giggles, brighter as he pushes your hand to your chest so you have no other choice but to accept it.
he scrunches his nose, face only inches away from yours as he persuades you with his natural charm. “what if we go shopping, hmm?”
“thanks babe, but i can’t think of anything i want right now.” you sniffle with teary eyes, flipping the card and holding it between your longest fingers as muscle memory takes control.
“then just keep it incase you see something you want.”
he kneels on the floor out of the blue, and you eye him curiously, your fingers automatically tangling with his silky locks before making a loose fist.
“here, put some pants on. hurry-” he presents your pair of faded gray cargo pants.
you tug at his hair lightly, which prompts him to lift his head. you scrunch your nose cutely, giggling. “i’m spoiled.”
“ey, so what if you are?” he brushes off your observation with his satoori accent, blithe tone listing down reasons. “i love you. i worked hard so i can do these things for you. we moved in together so we can take care of each other.”
and you want to cry. you truly do. your face began to feel warm after he said that he loves you, but the tears never make it past your lash line when his big palm lands a loud smack on your ass, skin-to skin.
“but i do think that you are a brat. does that count for something?”
it catches you by surprise, and a scandalized gasp escapes your mouth as you feel the sting spreading across your skin.
“shut up! give that to me.” you roll your eyes, stealing the pants from his grasp.
“see, that’s what i’m talking about.” he chuckles lightheartedly. “get dressed then.”
his fingers dig in the soft flesh of your thighs when he pulls you closer to kiss the tiny little ribbon on your underwear, heart-shaped lips pressed to you so firmly you can trace their outline bleeding through the thin fabric and onto your skin. “mmm-mwah!”
and then you feel them there next, where it still hurts, a softer kiss in comparison to soothe the sting he left behind.
your heart is beating so loud you can feel it in your throat, feeble knees nearly giving away to crash and break.
who does that so casually? who the hell does that?
oh, right… jungkook. of course.
you raise the white flag today.
perhaps he will flood the apartment tomorrow, and you can stay angry longer then.
“what’s taking him so long?” you mutter absentmindedly to yourself, lost eyes scanning the park in hopes of getting a glimpse of your boyfriend and his classic jungkook outfit, but he’s still nowhere to be seen.
your sour mood makes a reappearance.
to your credit, taking you out and then asking you to wait here without telling you where he’s going is rude, and you’re lonely and jealous of the couples around you having a picnic. not to mention that the clouds have uncovered the sun and you’re burning.
this scene also leads your brain to wander to those cliche flashbacks in a film or a show where a parent lies to their child that they’ll come back, and then they doesn’t. it’s always, always at some sort of park.
oh, for fuck’s sake, why are you wasting your time giving this a lot of thought?
too bored and antsy to sit still, you finally decide to text jungkook.
to: my baby love
i'm gonna look for food. do you want anything?
orrr is that what you're away buying 😥
WHERE ARE YOU
why didn't you just take me with youuuu
?
please me lonely :(
[sent 1 photo]
a black cat !! is sleeping on my shoes!! 😭
i miss you :(
are you almost done
i hate u
whatever i'm going. call if you still remember that you're someone's bf i guess.
jungkook crosses the street like an excited puppy, long pretty hair bouncing as he practically skips his way to the area where he left you to wait.
only to be greeted by a complete stranger.
his radiant beam fades into a hue of confusion.
the bench is now occupied by a woman chugging an energy drink after running laps around the park.
they lock eyes for a split second. he averts his befuddled stare to pretend that nothing happened, walking past her with a bouquet of sunflowers until he settles down two benches away.
he wears his bucket hat again only for him to throw it aside with a sigh, messing with his hair to release his frustration. of course you left. he can only snort to himself while he reads the last message you sent. you’re so cute. he knows you’ve never been keen on having to wait, but he didn’t expect himself to take so long either.
not wanting you to be upset with him another second longer, he instantly decides to call you.
his forehead creases when his phone vibrates, informing him that he typed an incorrect password. he tries again, slow and deliberate, only for the same thing to happen, and he begins to feel nervous.
what the fuck?
okay, calm down, JK. one more time.
he freezes as the same words flash on the screen. his tongue pokes the inside of his cheek as he feels the irritation bubbling up inside of him.
“why is it like this…? what’s your problem? what am i touching wrong?”
you return to the park more carefree than before. since jungkook is god knows where, you decided to have a picnic on your own. you had to buy a new picnic blanket, though. you can’t get the one in the car because he has the key. but just to be petty, you hope that he figured it out from the text notifications he got when you used his card.
oh, there he is looking angrily at his phone.
you halt on your tracks, instantly pulling the brakes on your feet when you recognize your boyfriend from your peripheral vision. you slowly chew the remaining tteokbokki in your mouth.
he’s holding his phone… and he hasn’t called you yet?
“wow, did you seriously forgot about me?”
upon hearing your familiar voice, jungkook’s features soften, not having to squint at the sunlight either because you’ve kindly blocked it with your back.
“where did you even go? i didn’t see you!”
the password-protected device that’s been giving him a headache for the past ten minutes is abandoned in the depths of his pocket.
“baby,” he utters airily as he stands on his feet, reaching out to hold your forearm. “i’m sorry. i took so long, didn’t i…? i went to buy you flowers but they didn’t have tulips anywhere. anywhere. every shop said someone bought all of them!”
he scratches his head with a sheepish grin, revealing the bouquet he’s been concealing behind him.
“i got you sunflowers instead… they-” he points at them, eyes flickering on the bundle of yellow flowers he’s offering as a gift. “they’re not bad. i think they’re pretty too. you like them too, right?”
sunflowers are pretty. after all, it used to be your favorite in middle school, mostly because it’s the first flower you received from an admirer… it was for your birthday and you felt like you died when it withered, heavily on-brand for a young heart drawn to romance. excluding that, everything has changed. it’s a typical saturday and beads of sweat have formed on your lover’s forehead after running around under the sun. you think you can keep them alive longer this time around.
“i like you the most.”
and then he receives his gift in return, that particularly sweet smile of yours he only sees when you’re so giddy.
his heart flutters wildly at your following actions.
“kiss.” you adorably demand, copying his pout earlier when he was asking for a kiss.
but unlike you who left his wish ungranted, he crosses the distance to plant a kiss on your lips. he pulls away a mere three inches, muttering to confront you. “but i thought you hated me?”
“who said that? that wasn’t me.” you feign ignorance, eyes so wide as to mimic being confused. you carefully take the flowers into your embrace, subtly exchanging it with the paper bowl you’re holding. “thank you, baby… here, do you want tteokbokki?”
he goes for the fish cake first, poking it with the stick and popping it in his mouth. you find yourself too absorbed in admiring the sunflowers one by one to sense your boyfriend staring at you, thinking to himself, you’re always worth the effort and this overpriced tteokbokki is pretty damn good.
“i turned on my location like i promised i would. did you see?” you mention without looking at him, acting laidback, still too shy when anything related to the incident is brought up.
he awkwardly smiles. no, he didn’t, unfortunately. he’s still fucking locked out of his phone.
you whimper when he pinches your cheek. “good job, baby.”
jungkook removes his head on your stomach to lie down beside you on the red picnic blanket. his hair touches his face and he tucks them behind his ears for the millionth time today.
“will you type my password for me?”
you take his phone without question, putting yours over your chest for the meantime. you successfully unlock it within a second, experienced fingers nimble after years of typing on the daily.
“here.” you hold it out for him without looking, picking up your own phone to continue scrolling through trending topics. however, seconds pass and the heavy weight on your hand has yet to be eased, so you wiggle it to catch his attention. “hey, it’s done.”
he gasps, gaping at you in bewilderment. “how did you do that?”
“you changed it again last night, remember? because i told you our anniversary isn’t a good idea.”
shit, right. he added a new one to the list of passwords that he uses for everything. he totally forgot about that. you’ve taken over every working brain cell that he has in his body.
“baby, this is your fault!” he groans, finally snatching away his phone. “ah- i wanted to throw it away. i didn’t know what was wrong with it. i was seriously so close to crying!”
that bad? was he about to get all his data wiped out? your poor baby. you laugh out loud at his reaction, belly aching as you roll over to wrap your arm around his waist and bury your face on his side.
“anyone can guess it if they try hard enough.”
“but that was the trick, you know? they’d think it’s too easy. they wouldn’t even consider it!”
“that doesn’t mean they won’t try it!”
“ah, i don’t care. i’m changing it back.” he stubbornly pouts, falling back on the blanket.
you want to cuddle. he feels a tug on the sleeve of his shirt and he immediately understands. he allows you to use his tattooed arm as a pillow. it envelopes you entirely when he reaches for his phone to type with both hands, and you automatically snuggle with him closer by resting your head on his chest.
“fine. do what you want, you dummy. you better not leave your phone lying around.” you mutter, heavy eyelids fluttering shut as the wind blows to softly caress your face. “and don’t take more pictures of me sleeping.”
“you’re sleeping? i thought we’re going to the mall.”
“we are. i’m letting you rest before you carry shopping bags.”
“ah- wow. thanks, baby.”
you don’t how much time passes, a minute or ten or more, but falling into a deep sleep proves to be impossible with the cacophony of sounds you’re surrounded with. you’re resting somewhere away from the crowd, but there’s still the hiphop music from a bluetooth speaker, honking of vehicles… and the main culprit, jeon jungkook scrolling through tiktok on your phone and bookmarking videos for you to watch later on. you can hear his giggles louder than his heartbeat, feel them make his body vibrate throughout.
so, you give up. you open your blurry eyes with a tired sigh, blinking to readjust to the brightness. he feels your movements, your nose brushing against his neck, and he squeezes you to his side, dutifully stroking your head to remind you that you’re safe despite being in a public place because you’re with him. you kiss his cheek to show your appreciation.
you end up harmonizing with his giggles when you do decide to join him, nearly tearing up at the sight of a cat riding a motorcycle toy on the screen. a little while later, your fascination is then stolen by fiddling with his tattooed hand — tracing the veins, the lines, the tattoos; pressing the faded heart like it’s a button connected to the beating one in his ribcage; grazing the rough areas of his palm calloused by lifting heavy weights.
and as you do so, you mull over the house by the sea you’re saving up for. how much longer will it take? should you check out more locations? do you tell jungkook? that it’s your back-up plan, a place where no one knows your name, just like how this city once was. it’s where you would run to, where you would build a new life if the time comes that this one falls apart, too. if not, if not, if not, would it be so bad to wake up beside you with an ocean view when he’s sixty?
fuck, you don’t know anymore. it shouldn’t be this hard— not anticipating the worst, but still being prepared for it. you despise being an adult.
you do it absentmindedly, taking off one of your silver rings and slipping it into each of his fingers to see where it would fit best… he knows you’re only entertaining yourself, but feeling it in his ring finger still puts a lump in his throat.
“are you proposing to me?”
“this is your right hand, silly.” you tease your stunned boyfriend, sticking your tongue out. “if you want me, come and get me.”
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rashomonss · 1 year
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The brothers and the Human Realm
a/n: so ik ‘jealous much’ won the poll but it’s still not done yet so have this instead!
context: a part of me still finds lessons 40-43 funny because the brothers have never really been to the human world that much, and they don’t really know how certain things work. Take the slow cooker and ice cream truck for example. So these are little headcanons I have for when all of y’all are together in the beginning of their stay in the human realm.
enjoy <3 , also these are in no specific order
you all are hopeless…
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Solomon and MC would so fuck with the brothers while being in the human realm.
For example they’d take Lucifer to the shadiest mexican restaurant possible then after they finished eating they would tell the waiters it was Lucifer’s birthday and watch the Avatar of Pride sit there with a big ass sombrero on his head as they sang happy birthday to him.
MC later took a picture and sent it to Diavolo who then made it his lock screen.
Satan and Belphie tried to electrocute Lucifer by throwing a toaster in the bathroom while he was in the middle of a shower. This happened after the fact you told them not to put water on the toaster because it could electrocute someone. 
Beel ate an entire bottle of ibuprofen liquid gels because he thought they were hard gummies.
Beel also ate the food and cake shaped wax candle melts you had bought for Asmo as a gift
Beel lastly ate your whole brand new container of melatonin and it knocked him out for 15 hours straight. Needless to say Lucifer was very concerned for his wellbeing, and Belphie soon questioned if you had anymore.
Belphie and his brothers were never taught stranger danger, because who in their right mind would be a danger to them in the Devildom?
So after you had explained to him what an ice cream truck was he vowed to go to one with you.
However when a creepy old man in a white van offers him candy he believes it to be the same as the ice cream truck so he gets in the van.
When the brothers relay this information to you, you begin to lose your shit explaining how that was not in fact an ice cream truck he got into but instead a kidnapper van.
The brothers don’t know how to eat certain human world foods.
Such as a banana, watermelon, mango, pineapple, kiwi, avocado, cherry, dragon fruit, papaya, onion, etc.
So when you first buy one from the grocery store and leave it out before cutting it they automatically think it’s some weird shaped human food and bite into it eating the skin or seeds and all.
After they tell you about the weird but delicious taste of it you ask if they cut it or spit out the seeds before eating it, and when they reply with a puzzled look and a no your heart drops.
Thank god they’re demons. You then proceed to buy the same thing again this time cutting it up in front of them so they know what parts to eat of certain things.
Expanding on the cherry part, did y’all’s parents ever tell you not to swallow watermelon or cherry seeds because if you did a cherry tree or whole watermelon would then grow in your stomach??
I know mine and some of my friends parents would tell us that when I was younger to make sure we didn’t swallow any seeds.
If they didn’t then oh well, anyway…
Continuing with Solomon being an ass, he would so tell something like that to the brothers. If he happened to see Beel swallow a cherry whole he would then proceeded to tell Lucifer not to let him do that.
And when the oldest asks why Solomon would then go onto explain that if he swallows cherry pit then a cherry tree will then grow inside his stomach.
Of course this freaked out Lucifer so for the next hour he tried getting Beel to spit out all the cherries he ate.
You would have to organize their fridge and pantry in the new house because they don’t know which human world foods need to be refrigerated or not.
After you arrive at the house you spent a good three hours explaining to them not everything can go in the pantry because some of it will spoil after you open it.
Then you proceed to gag when you pulled out an expired chunky milk container from the pantry.
They find the concept of drive thru or fast food places astonishing. The fact that you can just order wait in a line for a few minutes in your car then get your food is crazy. They do however all panic though when you get to the front and they don’t know what to order off the menu.
Car washes are also something they found themselves favoring. You would turn up the music as you slowly pulled in and joked by telling the brothers you were going on a ride of sorts.
Which in turn shocked you when they did believed you as the car wash stared. Each of them were staring out the windows with starry eyes as different colors of soap were thrown on your car.
You laughed to yourself as they all admired the way the soap blended together, Asmo and Mammon found themselves taking pictures of the whole thing. While Belphie was telling Beel how this looked like a starry sky.
And Levi went on to tell Satan how this reminded him of an anime scene. Lucifer also found himself sitting quietly in the passenger seat enjoying it too. (Lucifer is a certified passenger princess, fight me on that)
Each brother questioned you on how this was possible and you replied with smile. After the car wash was over and you drove through the dryers they all asked if you could do that again, to which you replied smiling “maybe some other time”.
Lucifer watered the fake succulents and plants you put around the house for two weeks straight until you said something.
They love watching true crime documentary’s to the point you’d have to physically pull them away from the tv.
It happened one afternoon while a few of them were relaxing in the living room and you were looking for a channel to watch.
Deciding there was nothing interesting on you put on an old true crime documentary and began watching it. As the brothers heard the story of the crime from the tv they each became immersed in it.
Telling you things such as “how could humans do that to each other?” or “wow humans are more brutal than we thought” or even adding in their own comments on how they could have made the crime worse.
It became a guessing game between all of them to figure out who killed who during each episode you watched.
Much to everyone dismayed Satan was the one who won every time.
Meanwhile while they were all immersed in the tv you noticed Lucifer standing behind you, arms crossed also watching tv. You told him to sit down and watch with all of you but he denied, claiming he wasn’t really interested in stuff like this anyway.
Yet he never moved from that same spot each episode.
Each of the brothers have made something explode in the microwave.
Lucifer stained it red when he went to reheat pasta, but he put it in for to long and it exploded. Mammon overfilled his ramen thus causing it to leak then explode.
Satan and Levi also happened to be reheating takeout at the same time, but both of the containers were styrofoam and exploded. Levi got annoyed and Satan threw the microwave at Lucifer.
Asmo put some skincare product in there because he found something online about a certain hack, and it exploded causing the microwave to smell like burnt strawberries.
Beel put too much food in the microwave causing it to all melt together then explode.
Belphie put a coffee in there to reheat and it exploded, but he was too lazy to clean it up so he just left it. Lucifer was then next to use the microwave and got coffee all over him.
You made all seven of them watch the entire twilight series as a joke but ironically they all actually enjoyed it.
Satan even went out and bought the books, and finished all of them in about 2 hours
Bonus
Solomon distracted Diavolo for 3 hours straight by making him watch 5 minute craft videos.
Diavolo then proceeded to break things to try these said crafts which caused Barbatos to have a meltdown.
Barbatos destroyed an entire sidewalk because he saw two rats run across it into the sewer.
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Don't touch her
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Pairings: Mattheo Riddle x hufflepuff!reader
Warnings: Swearing, violence, blood, tw! abuse, bullying, and my shitty writing
Summary: Y/n has two older brothers in Ravenclaw. Both are little entitled shits that love treating their sister like shit. When Mattheo finds out when they take it too far... Well, we all know what he'll do.
A/n: @victoriapedroza thank you for requesting! Im sorry if u didn't want me to make the reader a hufflepuff, I just thought it was a good idea. It's not my best, but do let me know what you think of it.
-
Y/n smiled happily as she saw Mattheo waiting for her after class.
"Hi love," Mattheo smiled as Y/n came to a stop in front of him, he pecked her lips before taking her hand in his as they walked down the corridors to the Great Hall for lunch, "How was class?"
"Great! I helped Hagrid with the nifflers and one of the babies gave me a gold coin. Have you ever heard of anything like it? A niffler giving instead of taking something shiny. I feel honoured," Y/n smiled brightly.
Mattheo felt a warm feeling bubbling in his chest as he watched her smile brightly.
"That's amazing, baby," He said kissing the side of her head.
"What's also amazing is that I heard a certain someone won the potions competition again," She smirked as she eyed her boyfriend, "Another vial of liquid luck that is going to collect dust?"
"Why would I need liquid luck if I have my lucky charm right here?" Mattheo smiled as he brought their hands up to his lips and kissed the back of her hand.
"You're cute, you know that?" She smiled kissing his cheek, "Oh! I completely forgot I have herbology next. I have to go get my books. I'll see you at lunch. Tell Pansy that she has to finish that story that she told me earlier."
"I will," Mattheo smiled before kissing her, "Now hurry back."
Y/n smiled at him before she hurried towards the hufflepuff common room. When she rounded the corner she bumped straight into someone.
"Watch where you're going!" She looked up and saw Gavin and Phillip, her two older brothers. Phillip was the oldest and Gavin was only a year under him. (Btw, the years might not make sense. However we're here for the story, not math)
"Oh, it's you," Phillip said.
"Sorry, I was in a hurry. I have to get my her-"
"Yeah, we don't care," Gavin said interrupting her.
Y/n stood up and brushed her robes off, "No need to be rude," She mumbled.
"What was that?" Phillip asked harshly.
"Nothing, forget it. I'm going," She said and started to walk off before she was pulled back and pushed up against the wall.
"You've been lucky until now, you little bitch," Phillip spat, "That little boyfriend of yours has always been around. Where's he now, huh?"
"Let me go," Y/n begged, tears threatening to fall.
"Aww is little Y/n going to cry?" Gavin said mockingly.
Phillip then laughed, "I'll give you something to cry about," He said before he threw her on the ground and she landed against one of the pillars. He then proceeded to kick her in the stomach.
She went to grab her wand but Gavin stepped on her wrist. She cried out in pain.
"Don't even think about telling anyone, or you're dead," He spat before the two of them walked away.
Y/n had to move quickly to get to the common room and back to the Great Hall, all the while making sure there was no evidence, just so that Mattheo and the rest don't get suspicious.
"You took a little longer than expected, love," Mattheo said as she plopped down next to him, "Everything alright?"
"Yeah, just had to look for it," Y/n said, "Room's a bit of a mess."
"As always," Mattheo said chuckling.
Y/n smiled at her boyfriend and kissed him before pulling away and looking at Pansy who was in front in of her explaining the story she had told earlier. Just behind her, on the other side of the hall sat Gavin and Phillip who were both glaring at her.
She immediately turned away.
-
It was a few days later the bruises on Y/n's hip and wrist got worse and were sore. So, sore that she couldn't move without cringing in pain. Something she had to do internally because she couldn't show it, she didn't want Mattheo or anyone else to find out.
Thank Merlin, it was winter, or they would've gotten suspicious if she wore a long sleeved shirt.
She sat with the rest of the Slytherin gang in the Slytherin common room. She was allowed to be there. She insisted on getting permission instead of sneaking in all the time and risk getting caught and getting detention.
"I'm so ready for the weekend," Enzo said, "I can't wait to get fucked."
"Fucked as in fucked or drunk and high?" Theo asked.
"Both," Enzo said.
"I could do with a drink right now," Pansy said.
"I can help with that," Y/n smirked as she stood up. Mattheo glanced at her confused, and as she stood up her shirt lifted slightly and he could see the big purple bruise.
Y/n then pulled two bottles firewhiskey from her bag.
"Holy fuck," Enzo laughed as he took one of the bottles from her, "Hufflepuff's becoming one of us."
"Shut up, I just thought we needed something to make us feel better," She smiled as she sat back down.
She went to open the bottle but her wrist pained. Mattheo watched as she struggled and saw the bruise.
"Looks like I'm not strong enough, you want to help me babe?" She asked smiling as she held out the bottle to him.
Mattheo took the bottle from her and opened it. Deciding to ask her later and not in front of everyone.
Later then came as Mattheo was walking Y/n back to the hufflepuff common room.
"Love," Mattheo said.
"Yeah?" She replied looking over at him.
"Why are their bruises on your wrist and hip?" He asked.
Y/n's heart began to quicken.
"Uh," She said before laughing nervously, "I was holding a bag that was stacked full of books. I was cleaning my dorm of course and then I bumped into the table. Guess I'm a little fragile."
Mattheo nodded, not believing her. She knew Mattheo didn't believe her, and she was glad he didn't asked anymore questions.
-
Y/n once again forgot her book in her room, and the same thing happened last time. She bumped into her brothers.
This time, she didn't submit to defeat like she has always done. This time, she pulled her wand out.
"Ohh, someone's brave," Gavin said as he pulled his wand out.
Y/n looked around to see if anyone was coming. Why was the hall always empty when she runs into them?
"Just leave me alone," She said as she started to back away.
"How could we? You keep bumping into us. You need to stop running down the halls, forgetting your books," Phillip said.
"We should teach you something about that," Gavin said.
"Like... this!" Phillip then shot a spell at her but she deflected it.
Then Gavin shot a spell and she deflected it.
Soon both started shooting spells trying to disarm her. She couldn't take much because it wasn't long before her wand was thrown to the other side of the corridor.
"Now, you should know not to pull your wand on your older brothers," Phillip said, "Crucio."
Y/n fell to the ground and screamed in pain. Gavin walked up to her and started kicking her. He even threw in a punch. In her face.
"Alright that's enough," Phillip said and all the pain stopped.
Y/n felt like she could breathe again and coughed for air, and there was blood when she coughed.
"Oh that's fucking disgusting," Gavin cringed.
"Come on, let's go before someone comes along," Phillip said before they vanished down the corridor.
That's the last thing she saw before she passed out.
"I wonder what's taking Y/n so long?" Pansy said. Lunch was almost over and Y/n stilled hadn't returned.
"I'm going to go find her," Mattheo said as he stood up.
"See you guys later then," Theo said before Mattheo walked out of the Great Hall.
He rounded the corner and at the end he saw someone lying on the ground.
"Y/n," He realised as he ran over to her. She was beaten up badly. He gently picked her up before running to the Hospital Wing.
-
"Who would do such a thing?" McGonagall asked Dumbledore as they stood in front of the hospital bed that Y/n was laying in. Mattheo sat next to her, he refused to move until she woke up.
"There are many that envy her," Dumbledore said, "But none that would hurt her like this."
"Well obviously someone did, we have to find out who. There is no place for bullying in this school," McGonagall said before they left.
It wasn't long after that, that Y/n opened her eyes.
"Shit," She said as she realised where she was.
Mattheo's eyes shot up, "Hey," He said once he saw she was awake, "I'm here."
Y/n turned her head to him, "Hey," She said.
"Love, who did this to you?" He asked, "Don't lie to me this time. I know when you lie."
Y/n sighed, "Gavin and Phillip," She said, "They've been doing this for years. Gotten worse and worse."
"Why didn't you tell me?" Mattheo asked.
"They're my brothers. I'll never escape them," She said.
Mattheo remained silent. He only remained calm for her, but he wasn't going to hold back the next time he sees them.
-
A week later Y/n was healed. Mattheo never left her side.
They were all sitting outside under the big tree in the courtyard. It was a peaceful day.
However that peacefulness didn't last long because Gavin and Phillip arrived.
Mattheo glared at them before he stood up from his where he sat and walked over to them.
"Oh dear," Y/n sighed as she watched Mattheo punch Phillip.
"What the fuck dude?" Gavin said before he himself got punched.
"Don't you ever fucking touch her again," Mattheo said as he kept throwing punches at Gavin. Phillip tried to pull him off but instead got himself landed under Mattheo receiving multiple punches.
"We should probably stop him," Pansy said.
"Nah, this is fun," Y/n said.
"What in Godric's name is going on out here?" McGonagall asked as she rushed outside. Mattheo got up and glared at the two boys whose faces were covered in blood.
"Just making sure these two never hurt touch their sister again," He said.
"They're the ones that hurt her?" McGonagall asked and Mattheo nodded, "I'd like to see you two in my office the second you're out of the hospital wing. You'll also get 3 months of detention. Every day."
McGonagall then turned to Mattheo, "As for you Mr Riddle. Five points will be taken from Slytherin for your act, but 25 points will be rewarded for standing up for your peers," McGonagall gave Y/n a wink before she disappeared with the two bloodied up boys behind her.
Mattheo walked back over and sat down again before pulling Y/n into her arms and kissing the side of her head, "That'll teach them never to touch my girl ever again."
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if-you-fan-a-fire · 1 year
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“Application of Solloway Dismissed in Montreal,” Ottawa Journal. February 15, 1933. Page 1.  --- MONTREAL, Feb. 15.- Application of Isaac W. C. Solloway to suspend judgments of the Superior Court appointing G. T.. Clarkson, of Toronto, as joint liquidator with J, A. Turcotte, of Montreal, in the winding-up of the affairs of Solloway. Mills and Company. brokers, was dismissed in Practice Court today by Mr. Justice Boyer. Soiloway also asked that judgments transferring the winding-up proceedings to Ontario courts and transferring the records there be suspended. Mr. Justice Boyer refused to suspend the judgment until opposition entered to them by Solloway had been argued.
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yzashaven · 7 months
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okay but… we need more needy dom scara.
like imagine he overstimulates reader because he gets so needy and whiny that HE’S THE ONE CRYINGLIKEEEEEOEEOWWEMSSOWKWOA
toes curling😋
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꒰ ♡— fem!reader︰not proofread︰breeding︰desperate scara?︰overstimulation︰cum overflow !! ꒱
꒰ general﹒taglist ꒱ @yukiitaooo @scara6 @kana-de @ciarchivez
[ PART 2-ISH ]
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"one more, one more—fuck... g-gotta breed you so bad... please..." scaramouche pleaded, grinding into you as he was hitting your g-spot, thrusting once again soon after. incoherent babbles and whines were continuously being drawn from you as you felt his cock twitching inside you for the umpteenth time that evening. "you feel so good, so fucking good~" his face was buried in your shoulder as he held you close, the feeling being too much for him as it had him shed a tear from his eye as he felt himself about to cum hard once again—adding to his fluids that overflowed from your abused hole, coating your swollen clit in it as well as the liquid began to drip down onto the bed. he pulled back to observe your figure; body shuddering due to the overwhelming amount of pleasure, chest rising up and down rapidly as you were panting heavily, eyelids on the verge of closing shut as you felt extremely tired. he grips your thighs and spreads them apart, proceeding to whisper a soft 'sorry' to you as he slowly pushed his cock back inside your cunt, "i just can't seem to get enough of you, baby~"
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riki-dazed · 2 months
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jake accidentally stumbles upon you and your boyfriend, riki, getting busy inside a practice room
!! NSFW !! pure smutty filth😭· wc: 1053 · requested
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Riki's hand wrapped itself around the front of your neck, his fingers pushed upwards at your chin as he forced your gaze to meet his in the mirror. His breath hot against your ear, erotic sounds slipped past your lips as you took in the image before you. He continued to rut into you from behind, the sight of his desperation alone had your knees wanting to buckle but the grip Riki had on you ensured your body stayed upright for him. The image reflecting back at your boyfriend through the mirror had his mind in a complete daze, you looked so explicitly delicious to him. So shamelessly desperate for him to completely ruin you as you panted Riki beside his face, and boy did he ruin you.
You had just awoken from a lengthy nap on one of the sofas in another room, all you wanted to do was check if your boyfriend was done with his solo practice session, he had been going for hours on end. Being pushed up against the mirror in the practice room was the last situation you thought you'd find yourself in at three in the morning, but you found no reason to complain about it.
"My needy baby," You choked out between rugged moans, your eyes still burning into his through the mirror. "Couldn't even- even wait until we got home,"
He groaned at your words, his thrusts becoming faster and harder as his grip around your neck tightened ever so slightly. He was a complete and utter vocal, loud mess. It was just how you liked having him, dangerously needy.
"Need to taste y-you so bad," Riki groaned, his hands swiftly spun your figure around, a hushed gasp escaped your mouth as you had suddenly found your back being pushed against the cool mirror.
Your eyes scanned down his torso as you took a moment to admire the way his damp tank top clung to his glistening skin, your gaze settling upon his hand and how it was pumping at his girthy length. You took your bottom lip between your teeth, the sounds of his pleasure was music to your ears.
Riki dropped onto his knees in front of your fucked-out figure, his siren-like eyes had almost rolled into the back of his head at the sight of your dripping core inches away from his drooling, open mouth. The poor boy was hypnotized by you. His free hand wrapped itself around the back of one of your soft thighs, right under your ass. He proceeded to pull you into his face hungrily. Riki didn't waste another second as he began relishing in all of your juices, your jaw falling open at the intensity of the feeling. Both of your hands found their way into his hair as you pulled his head closer into you, you were seeing stars. He was always so good at eating you out.
He hummed against your clit, his tongue dominating every inch of you, "Tastes so good,"
Riki continued his actions as your gaze suddenly fell upon the door to the practice room, a wicked smile found its way across your lips at the realization. You definitely remembered shutting it completely closed behind you earlier, yet it was now left slightly ajar. You let another moan escape your lips, one slightly louder this time, perhaps on purpose.
The knot within your stomach grew as a tightness, in which engulfed your chest, began to make its appearance also. You tapped at Riki's shoulders, urging the boy to stand up. You assumed he must've been close too. You were tired, you didn't want to leave a mess behind on the wooden flooring that would need cleaning up. His tall figure stood up, a hint of confusion played behind his eyes as he looked down at you. His red, plump lips parted, chin glistening with remnants of your liquids. You pulled at his tank, his face ending up not even a full inch away from yours. 
Your voice was barely above a whisper as you spoke against his wet lips, "Baby, can you cum inside me? Please,"
"Fucking hell," Riki completely crumbled before you as his lips engulfed yours, the innocent tone behind your voice had sent his mind, and dick, into overdrive.
With his tongue fighting against yours, he pushed himself back into your dripping, overly sensitive core. He couldn't even get a single thrust in before he began to twitch inside of you, his climax had also triggered your own.
Riki held you close to his body as he filled you up, cries of pure pleasure continuously escaped his mouth between grunts. Your eyes peeked over his shoulder as you began to come down from your own high. Your fingers played with the hair at the nape of Riki's neck as you continued observing the entry, one of your eyebrows raised, you noticed how the door was suddenly closed shut again.
"It's almost four, we should get going," You spoke quietly as you escaped Riki's grip, he nodded in agreement before he pulled his sweats up, you checked your outfit in the mirror.
Riki let out a hushed gasp as he pulled you through the door behind him, his hand in yours. He stopped in his tracks.
"Hyung..?"
The both of you were met by a quiet, flustered Jake, who stood with his back against the wall beside the door. His cheeks were flushed, the obvious shade of pink that covered his skin had caused a small smile to find its way onto your face.
"I-I thought you were at the dorm," The flustered boy stumbled over his words, "I'm sorry,"
"Instead of watching next time, just ask us to join," A hint of playfulness could be heard behind your voice, your words had caused Jake's breath to hitch. The poor boy wasn't completely sure if you were joking or not.
Your boyfriend's eyes widened at your comment, though, he couldn't help but let out a quiet chuckle as he shook his head. He loved how much of a little shit you were too.
"There's cameras out here," You added, whispering towards Jake's direction. You looked back at the door to the practice room briefly, and then at his groin. "You should probably go take care of yourself in there."
...
Copyright © 2024 riki-dazed. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED | Do NOT edit, copy, translate or repost any of my work without permission.
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hoesformatt · 20 days
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overstimulating subby matt 🫣.
mattblurb mattblurb mattblurb contains: smut
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“please, let me cum, i’m begging you—” matt relentlessly begged for his release, gripping on my wrist for me stop but I continued to stroke him. His whines got louder while I enjoyed the flustered look on his face, he looked so cute and pathetic. “you can cum” He exhaled as I watched his legs shake and his tension from his stomach came out in warm sticky liquids. I still proceeded to hold his sensitive cock, beginning to jerk it in my hands with his natural lubricant. My hands glided along his length, earning bitchy whimpers from him. Rubbing my thumb in circles on his tip drove him crazy, making him grip my thigh in exhaustion. I wanted to stroke him dry with his climax was awaiting and I could tell from his mindless mumbles “too much, too much, please, please” He acted like a virgin boy who’s never been touched before, His eyes filled with ecstasy rolled back as felt his second orgasm overcome his body, breathing heavily. I let go, right as he was about to cum, edging him. He took my hand in pulling it towards his cock for me to hold it.
blurb taglist: @cottoncandyswisherz / i take blurb reqs 😵‍💫
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anantaru · 9 months
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neuvillette flickers over your neck with his lips open as you slowly make yourself comfortable on his lap— his body reacts promptly, trembles when he feels you, his mind rewires when he hears you.
evidently, it's the sweetest treat in this entire wide world when you get on top of him in such ways, with his slacks painfully tight and his erection almost tearing through it— the power you held over his emotions and the way his body reacted, he welcomed it. undeniably it‘s not something he was used to, yes, but he trusted you, from the bottom of his heart, loved and longed for you.
and the man, in his ethereal glory, seems deeply pleased with your proceeding reactions— because call to mind, neuvillette tends to become warmly excited and euphoric whenever you show him that he was doing a good job, touching your little cunt just the right way, targetting your puffy clit with slow, ethusiastic rolls of his fingers.
and please recognize, you really had no damn idea on how fucking difficult your wet, little mewls could make him, his limbs trembling and driving him up against the wall, allowing that it wasn't his turn on taking pleasure, this is about you and his growing erection simply had to grind against your clothed ass for now— if it weren‘t for the near possibility of him cumming just from that.
your thighs begin to violently clamp down around his strong wrist, and he has been moving back and forth into your hole for a while, thick veins surfacing on his arm and becoming stronger the more he pumps into you.
his movements are constant, his long fingers working wonders on your warm, embracing cunt, whilst the grip on your legs twisting down around his arm was tightening further. neuvillette notices immediately when he stares at you, with that smouldering look setting fire on your cheeks, he‘s shameless, mouth watering, eyes panning from your lips, to your exposed collarbones and lastly, to where his fingers toyed around with your pussy, your warm, squelching sex oozing onto him and slicking him up.
fuck, how desperately he wanted to taste you, leave your juices on his tongue until it’s melting into his saliva.
when at last, the beaconing pressure that had been stepping up inside of you was on the evident brink of crashing down on your tottering frame, your transparent liquids grippy and cluttering up his digits as he fucks three fingers into you, tainting your velvet walls with his maddening trace.
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©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify
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henneseyhoe · 13 days
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Daddy’s Money.
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Lewis Hamilton x BLACK!FEM!Reader.
WARNINGS:lil bit of nasty smut, brief one sided relationship, lewis being pussy whipped, reader is heavily implied to be a gold digger(she is but shhhh! let her rock frl), daddy kink, money making reader hornayyy(me asf), not edited(idc rn i’m sleepy), there MIGHT be plot holes(again, i’m sleepy) and das it i think.
ps. also i’m ngl i wrote this halfway lazily, i just wanted to get back into writing sooo yeah.
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The arrangement was really an accident (at first). You were hired to fit and dress the man after practically begging for the job, needing the money to jump start your fashion career since your father had cut you off the month prior. It’d take nearly five years to do so, but with someone as easy going as lewis, time would fly fast.
Eventually he grew fond of you, and you of him..him a bit (a lot) more than you actually. Months after getting hired he began bringing you around for things that wasn’t about his style, things that someone would do for a budding romance. You didn’t mind either, it was working in your favor getting the extra hours to do nothing. You didn’t mean to snag a sugar daddy, a famous one at that, just like you didn’t mean to fuck him before the met gala, damn near making him late. It just…happened; Which is what you’d say to judgy bitches.
You also didn’t mean to point out that midnight black bag (and a few other things) you had been wanting when shopping for him the week after the met. Those things mysteriously showed up on your door step two days later to your surprise. You were beginning to think he was a little generous…so you tested something out.
“Ugh! Wouldn’t this look so good on me?”
You pout as you held the designer dress up to your body. It was originally intended to go to another woman they paired him with for an event, but seeing it up against you instead was all he had to see before he told his assistant to inform the woman she’d be wearing something else. In awe, you proceeded to wear that dress to the event that night, easily gaining eyes from guests and earning yourself a name as Lewis’s “sexy ass stylist” online when the pictures taken of you went viral.
Later on that night the dress was being ripped apart from the back and thrown to the floor by you know exactly who, him doing everything in his power to get to what was underneath.
You couldn’t tell if your pussy was good or if he was just that whipped for you after that night. Either way, you were having fun.
Before you could snap your fingers, whatever you were THINKING of wanting was at your fingertips. He had more money than he could spend, and you had no problem helping him find what to do with it! It was only fair, ya know, for his sake.
The first time you realized he was really wrapped around your little iced out finger was the last time you had wanted for anything for long.
“I could have anything I want? seriously??”
You looked to him in shock, the man shrugging as he debated on a pair of versace shoes. “Have at it, love” He responded simply with a quick endearing smile to you before waving over an assistant to help you. You felt like a kid in a candy store.
^Also the last time you referred to him as anything other than daddy when not in public, (or at least not noticeably to others in public).
He was liquid when you called him that. soft putty in your hands, ready for you to shape him into anything you desired.
“Come on, daddy. Don’t you wanna see your name in diamonds on me? Don’t you wanna mark me? claim me?”
You taunted him in a seductive tone as you rolled your hips onto him. You flipped your hair to one side of your shoulder so you could look back at the work you were putting in, Lewis staring back at you with hearts in his eyes and his bottom lip tucked into his mouth. Both of y’all’s jeans were halfway down with your pretty brown ass perched up for him to see the tip of his long dick teasingly slide between your lips and into your honey coated walls repeatedly. He was right there on the edge, you could feel it and you hadn’t even sat all the way down on him yet.
Really it was either say yes to the chain or be left to make himself cum, he understood that completely. As he nods eagerly in agreement, you plopped your plump self down into his lap and he came as fast as police in white neighborhoods.
By the seventh month of being together your closet was every woman with a fashion sense dream. Designer galore (and not the ugly shit neither). He got you designs that wasn’t on racks yet but straight off a runway, things that fit perfectly to YOUR body. (Seeing that he was getting to know it so well..He could probably draw a map of you with just his damn tongue.)
You began getting way more noticed by his fans and friends, not only for suddenly having a thing for wearing expensive clothes and jewels, but for also being close with Lewis. Dating rumors had started to run amuck. The first plan was to deny, deny, deny but it was hard to do that when you were wearing his name on your neck, hiding the chain under your shirts or wearing it backwards so no one would see the name plate.
But the chain wasn’t what caused the dam to break. It was when you posted bags and gifts with flowers, a card attached that had a heartfelt and flirty handwritten poem on it, forgetting to even scribble out his name. Fans and close friends were on the fence, some of his associates madder than an ant colony in the rain and some fans confused on where the hell you even came from and where you got off on gold digging. The clothes and jewelry were finally starting to make sense and you gave the saying “Look like money” a new meaning.
Lewis was quick to come to your defense in interviews, you had never seen anyone get so nice nasty or petty in your honor. He was witty and quick with comebacks, his polite tone masking rude comments at any interviewer that dared to have an opinion about you that he didn’t like. He made sure as everything went on online and your name trended for the second time that week that you didn’t lack reassurance ever.
“Look in the mirror and let daddy know who’s it is”
He pulls you by your braids up to the direction of the reflecting headboard, your back pressed against his chest as his hips met your ass with a hard smack. After hours of pleasurable “reassurance” there wasn’t a spot inside you that his dick didn’t hit, a place on you that his tongue didn’t lick. The chain you had asked for a bit ago clinked freely against your chest and a fucked out evil smile grew on your face as you look him in the eyes through the mirror. “It’s yours, daddy. you know it’s all yours” You would reply before your walls gushed around his dick.
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Fans who prayed on your downfall weren’t so happy when they got the news that you two married two years later in Greece. The wedding was private, but it was no secret that a fortune was spent and that didn’t make the gold digging comments better. (Even though your father paid)
Those comments followed you into your fashion brand era and though you chose to be mysterious about private life and yourself in general, (for obvious reasons) you felt it was only right to defend your honor at least once.
Like the great actress you were, you did what white women around him had been doing to you since the beginning and threw on the waterworks, crying in front of any watchful eye when the rumors were brought up with your amazing husband by your side comforting you immediately. How dare they say such things about THEE Lewis Hamilton’s wife?? THEE Y/N Hamilton???
Your newly grown fan base called it blasphemy. There wasn’t an online blog on beyoncé’s internet that went untouched when having something to say about you. Everything they said was untrue! You had your own money, your own brand, (funded by your husband) and your own name.
“They’re so mean to me”
You pout as Lewis carefully takes off your heels and kisses the top of your feet before standing and caressing your cheek. “You know how the media is, and I know nothing they say about you is true. I’ll have my team take care of it, okay?” He reassured and you smile, mentally noting to suck his dick before bed. As if you were rewarding a dog for jumping through a hoop, being soft and on your side at all times was Lewis’s hoop, and he had better jump through every. single. time.
To be fair, there may have been some superficial motives behind the building of this relationship (on your side at least) but he genuinely did grow on you, and that was before you knew he was a trick, that part just made it deeper.
You were in shock when he asked you to marry him originally, so much so that you refused the first time because it scared you. You avoided him for an entire week and refused to go to work until you realized you had grown so accustomed to being around him that you could barely function. Apart from the fact that you were opening doors by yourself and eating dinner alone, you hadn’t noticed how much you liked talking to him, being with him and simply in his presence.
Materials aside, you loved him, you were in love with him. Infatuated just as much as he was with you by now and you came too long of a way to be scared off.
In reality you telling him no wasn’t gonna stop him from perusing. He knew you were gonna be his wife for a long time now and nothing was gonna get in the way of him finding you (and he kinda duped you with the whole falling for him thing anyway because he knew what half of your motives were and played his role well), you just found him first and made him pop that question again, which that time you happily said yes to.
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im-poe-dameron · 5 months
Text
THE HEART OF A SHIP
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a/n: this fic is a result of wine and rewatching the force awakens. honestly my brain always short circuits whenever oscar isaac comes on screen. so i had to do something. it was meant to be small, but i literally couldn't stop writing so it became this. it's an idea that has been lingering in my head for awhile, i just had to let it simmer for a bit. and now it's fully cooked.
summary: you and poe were inevitable. two asteroids set on a course to crash into one another. a celestial event that would happen whether you wanted it or not. you just never expected it to happen so soon.
word count: 3.4k+
pairing: poe dameron x f!reader
warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, alcohol consumption, love confessions sort of??, poe being romantic as fuck, p in v sex, guided masturbation, biting, sex in an x-wing, sex in a public place, unedited but we live and die by the fucking pen.
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Intoxicating.
That was the only way you’d describe him. The only word that ever did him justice. He was the human embodiment of an Antakarian Fire Dancer. You got hammered on it one year after two glasses of the amber liquid, proceeding to forget half the night yet eager for more. Nothing could describe the man before you better. It simply wouldn’t do him justice. He was the itch beneath your skin that you could never satisfy, the reason you stood there now.
A glass of that amber liquid in both hands.
He’d disappeared from the celebration. An hour in from congratulations and happy faces, you watched him leave when no one was looking. And you did nothing to stop it. You knew he wasn’t one to relish in the joys of battle well done. Always intent on focusing towards the next thing—the next fight. It’s how you knew Leia would make him General, why he was so good at leading, at keeping the people he loved safe.
“Leaving without saying goodbye is rude, you know.”
He jumped slightly where he stood, his back to you, a holopad in one hand and a tool in the other. Of course he’d be here, fixing his X-Wing in silence. His own little ritual. You couldn’t count how many times you found him here after a fight, finalizing the last few checks before he caught some sleep. If he slept at all. Poe always seemed to be on the move no matter the time of day—a constant in the Resistance even when everyone else seemed to have lost faith.
“I said goodbye,” he joked, head turning slightly to see you come around, the holopad getting traded for a glass. “Just couldn’t see you in the crowd.”
You smiled. “You’re a shit liar Dameron.”
“I know.” He took a sip, winced, and laughed—the sound practically lighting you up inside. Igniting you like a fucking lightsaber.
“What’s the damage report?” 
“Nothing I can’t fix.” He glanced back at the scraped up hunk of metal he loved more than anything. The amount of care he put into keeping her going was admirable—if a little insane at times.
But he was right. The damage was nothing he couldn’t fix.
“Are you sure you don’t need help?” The smile still played on your lips, eyes alight and aiming to start something you wanted him to finish.
Poe caught onto it quicker than you expected. He could see it before you followed him out of the celebration. A promise that lingered in the air from months of longing looks and timid words. Something inevitable and real. So much so that you were willing to bet everything that he felt exactly the same way you did.
You wanted each other. That was clear from day one. But doing something about it became difficult when war was a constant and lives were put in peril on the daily. Poe didn’t want to leave you broken beyond repair if he never made it back. Just as you didn’t want to do the same to him.
The fucked up thing about it though was Poe would mourn you either way. He’d live his life half a man if you never graced him with your presence again. If you weren’t around to smile at him from across rooms and laugh at his shitty jokes. He was pretty sure he’d already started. Being away from you was like a poison he constantly had to take, a pain he didn’t want to endure. And if it were up to him…he’d choose you every time.
No matter the consequences.
“You ever been in an X-Wing before?” he asked, trying to see past the bits and pieces of the ache that hurt you both.
You rolled your eyes and Poe felt his chest tighten. “You know I haven’t. I’m not pilot material.”
“Sounds like bantha shit to me starlight.”
The name you’d heard so many times before echoed differently to you now. You wanted to break through its meaning and find the promise within. The antidote to this fucking ache that stuck to your chest. You wanted to rip it out and grind it up. You wanted to finally take what you desired, relish in the feel of calling him yours without the pain of knowing what came next. The both of you were trying to save your emotions—protect yourselves—but there was no use.
Poe had found a home in your heart and he was there to stay.
“Come with me.”
When it came to him you had no choice but to listen, following dutifully behind in a haze of want. He climbed up the ladder on the side of his ship, plopping down into the seat with the grace of a pilot who’d done it a million times before. The movement now muscle memory at this point. Whereas you clambered up—buzzed on one drink—nearly falling into the cockpit. He grabbed your arm at the last minute, helping you slowly maneuver your way in, until you were perched on this lap.
The seat was barely big enough to fit him let alone you as well. And yet…you’d never felt more comfortable. He pulled you back slightly, hands pressed to your hips, chest snugly placed against your back. With every intake and exhale of breath, you felt him move. Felt his body shift. If you focused, you knew you would be able to feel his heartbeat. The rhythmic thump you’d grown accustomed to.
“Now—“ He precariously balanced his glass on the dash. “Your hands go here.” Covering your hands with his, he showed you how he’d position himself if he were flying. The cold touch of the buttons and knobs beneath your fingers sent electricity up your spine. “These are to shoot.” Another shift. “And this is to aim.”
You sucked in a breath. “Seems complicated.”
“Not at all.” His fingers slid up your arm, chin coming to rest on your shoulder. You tried to remember how to take a single breath. “You just have to understand how the ship works. How she moves, what she likes.”
Your breath hitched, body leaning into him more, and finally you felt it. The wall holding both of you back crumbled to the ground. All that remained now was the will to finally do something about it. So you let his hands guide you, watching in anticipation as they moved to your own body, pressing your palms into your stomach.
“There’s always a heart of a ship,” he murmured, moving your hand down. “A pilot guiding the way.”
“Poe…”
"After all, we've got to guide the ship back home." A soft whimper left your lips, your nails digging into the meat of your thighs to contain yourself. If the cockpit of his ship wasn't so fucking small, you had no doubt you'd be spread on his lap, lips connected to his already.
He grinned, his lips brushing across the back of your neck. “For me…” He stopped right above the hem of your pants, your fingers aching to finally delve down further. “That’s always been you.”
The alcohol had all but burned out of your system from how warm you were. His touch guiding yours seemed to have lit something in the base of your stomach, causing it to spread outwards. And you needed more. Your head fell back against his shoulder, eyes fluttering shut as he pressed your hand beneath the coarse fabric of your pants. The feeling of him cupping your mound—using you all the while—sent a jolt across your body; a soft moan falling free past your lips.
“Maker starlight,” he said, his voice hoarse with desire. “You’re so fucking wet.”
He wasn't wrong. You could feel yourself dripping the longer he spoke, his words affecting you more than you anticipated. Ever since you first met, Poe always held a power over you. A reminder that no matter how many times you tried to rid yourself of him, no matter what you did...he would remain burned into your soul. He'd be part of you until you drew your final breath in this galaxy.
"It's cause of you," you gasped, your fingers and his sliding through your slick. Running along the lips of your cunt, skimming past your clit entirely. "Oh—"
The scrape of his teeth along your neck nearly did you in entirely, the plea hanging off the tip of your tongue in anticipation. He was toying with you. Playing you like a fucking instrument and listening to your melody. Drowning in the sounds you made—the ones he dreamed of. If there was a life after this, a fated place he could go to rest, he'd want it to be here. Crammed into this cockpit with you on his lap, the feel of you sliding through his fingers and the echo of your voice breathing his name sweeter than the alcohol you had handed him earlier.
Poe would do whatever he could to make this moment last just a minute longer.
"Need you."
He kissed the junction where your neck and shoulder met, fingers still guiding yours through your own heat. "I know you do starlight. But you're gonna cum for me like this first." Your sweet little gasp ripped him a part. He had to squeeze his eyes shut to stave off nearly coming in his pants. "Let me guide you."
You nodded and spread your legs as wide as they could go in the cramped space. It wasn't very far, nor did it give him space to do what he really wanted to do to you, but it would have to do for now. The noise of the celebration in the distance only grew louder as people consumed more alcohol, the joy bleeding into the air. But you couldn't give a shit at that moment about why they were happy, or even what occurred before today.
You were lost to the depths that Poe pulled you into.
Heat spilled between your fingertips, a sticky mess starting between the two of you, but that seemed to only drive him forward. He pressed down, sliding your fingers into you with ease, his delving in right beside you—stretching you in a way that had your back arching. Wrapped his arm around your waist, he kept you still, his chin set on your shoulder and chest heaving with controlled breaths. A way for him to keep the last bits of his sanity as he felt your walls clamp around his fingers.
"Fuck baby," he grit between clenched teeth. "You really did need me huh?"
Nodding, you felt him press even further, fingers searching for something.
"You're gonna make a mess on me." Pumping his hand, he felt your body shudder—your mouth falling open as a ragged moan echoed in the ship. "Gonna take me so easily. I'll slip right in."
You burned from the inside out. A searing heat pulling tight across your body until you could nothing but fall into it. There was no fighting against that aching bliss, no running from what you wanted, what you dreamed of. Poe was intent on breaking you apart right there on his lap, and he'd watch with a smile on his face as you spilled yourself between the rough pads of his fingers. As you made a fucking mess on his lap.
"C'mon baby," he muttered, curling his fingers forward and nudging against something blinding. You cried out, hand grasping at his wrist to either pull him away or keep him right there. You couldn't tell at this point. And he smiled. "Is that it?" Rubbing against the spongy patch along your walls, he felt your entire body lock up, a whimpered sob breaking from your chest. "Yeah. That's fucking it."
You tried to warn him, his name a garbled echo of nonsensical letters on your tongue. But he already knew. His hand sped up, practically pushing your fingers out of the way as he gave you everything you wanted. Poe was certain that he wanted this more than you, that deep down he needed to know that you came because of him. That he was capable of turning you into a sobbing mess.
The echo of his pained grunt was loud in your ears, his hips pressing up into you to relieve the pressure of need he felt, and that's what did it. The knowledge that he was as gone as you were. That he had always wanted you.
Your walls fluttered around his fingers, a splintered moan falling past your parted lips as the pleasure spilled over. And he buried his face into your neck, a broken sound of his own muffled by your warm skin. He fought against finishing, biting into your shoulder as he worked you through your release. Adamant to make this last for you—to drag you to the Maker and back with a sated smile on your face.
Eventually you couldn't take it anymore, pleasure bleeding into pain, and you dragged his hand away. A breathless sigh of his name shooting right to his cock.
Without knowing it you had broken him for anyone else. Obliterated his ability to ever see someone the way he saw you.
You and your beauty. Your ability to render him speechless, breathless, and at your fucking mercy. For so long he was the ship lost in space with no sense of direction to lead him back to something real, a purpose. But then you settled into his heart. You became his pilot, guiding him through the never-ending void of space. You kept him afloat even as the weight of the galaxy threatened to drag him down, happy to watch him crash and burn in as so many others had done before.
"That was new," you giggled, hand reaching back to run through his hair.
He smiled, his heart twisting in his chest and fingers still covered in your slick coming to grip at your hips. "To think..." Pressing your ass down against his hard cock, he felt the breath hitch in your chest. "We could have been doing this the whole time."
"W-What a loss," you breathed, that now familiar all encompassing need filling your veins once more.
As if he knew your body so well already, he began to pull at your pants, helping you strip yourself to the best of your ability. The soft clinking of his belt echoed loudly in the cockpit and for a moment you were sure that people in the distance could hear it. But that thought quickly left your mind the second you felt the hot skin of his cock pressing against your lower back—his precum wet and sticky now smeared against your skin. Saliva filled your mouth, the ache pulling at your chest, clawing its way to the surface.
You didn't simply want him. That was too small of a word to explain the feeling in your body. You breathed for him. You lived for him. Poe was the blood that streamed in your veins, the reason your heart beat the way it did. Because it beat for him.
"Say you want this," he grunted, grinding against your skin, his fingers digging in harder than before. Until blood nearly pricked at the surface.
"Yes." The word was out of your mouth before he could even finish speaking. "Maker, I've wanted this for so long."
A growl hit your ears, his nose pressed into your back as he lifted you slightly, and you felt like you would rip to shreds if he didn't hurry. The head of his cock pressed against your entrance, sliding into you with slippery ease. And you pressed back against him, desperate to feel him sink into you fully. To be stretched out around his cock. Poe choked on his breath when your warm heat encompassed his throbbing length so suddenly, nearly throwing him off the edge entirely.
"Fuck starlight. You're gonna have to give me a second."
Your lips curled up into a grin. "Yes, General."
For a moment Poe could only process the breaths he took, the word entering his already blank mind. It wasn't until a searing heat shot up his spine at the sound of his title leaving your lips, did he fully understand. His hips pushed up into you, forcing him to sink just a bit deeper. You clutched at the side of the ship, your eyes fluttering shut at the feeling. The position had him pressing right along your walls, the underside of his cock grinding blissfully against you.
"I used to think you had no idea." He pushed you up slightly until his cock was halfway out and he glanced down, moaning at the sight of him covered in your slick. Only to pull you back down hard. Your choked cry was like music to his ears. "Didn't know what you do to me. How my whole fucking body belonged to you."
"Poe—"
He repeated the movement, smiling at the noises that came free. "But I was wrong."
A pressure quickly built in the base of your stomach, threatening to destroy you. And you chased it. Meeting his thrusts, you fucked yourself on his cock, hands pressed to the dash in front of you and back arched to find the perfect angle that made your toes curl in your boots. Ragged breaths filled the space, accompanied by broken moans and stunted grunts. Each one louder than the last as you both took and took and took, until the very edge of bliss mounted in your bodies.
He gripped the back of your neck, hand fisting at your hair as he pulled you back roughly against his chest. And you fell into it. Whining his name when he grinded up slowly, your walls clamped down around his cock. You could barely see straight through the burn of tears that glazed your eyes, a fucked out expression painted perfectly on your face. And Poe wished he could see you from where he was, catch a glimpse of the way your eyes rolled back, neck on display for him to bite.
"You know exactly what you do to me, starlight." His mouth fell open in a silent moan when his balls drew up painfully, cock throbbing along your walls. He quickly shoved his hand into your slick, fingers locating your clit with ease.
"Maker—" You heard him bite out your name like a prayer he couldn't get out fast enough. A plea for you to give him everything you had, everything that made you who you were. "I'm— Fuck I-I'm—"
"Yes," he groaned, using his other hand to cup your chin and pull your lips to his. Finally kissing you after years of dreaming it would happen. "Fucking give it to me baby."
His tongue licked into your mouth, swallowing every sound you made with ease. The feel of his lips against yours shoved you towards your release. A muffled cry of his name echoing in his mouth as your body went taut, thighs quaking as you gushed on his cock. He choked, mouth open and panting against yours, following you instantly and spilling into your cunt—filling you until you were sure it was dripping out of you and gathering at the base of him.
"Yours," he sighed against your lips, thumb running along the top of your cheek. "'M yours."
The twist of your heart brought you down from your high, your eyes fluttering open as he stared at your kiss swollen lips, the way his spit smeared along your bottom one. You expected him to take it back once he slipped out of you. Surely this was nothing but a dream, a moment in time that may never happen again. But in his eyes you saw devotion. You saw the inevitable future that was always bound to happen.
"Me too."
He smiled, nose brushing against yours. "Guess we're stuck with each other starlight."
"That doesn't sound too bad to me, General."
He tsked under his breath, fingers coming to grip your chin—brown eyes flashing up to meet your gaze. "You're causing trouble."
You grinned, grinding on his softened cock that was still buried deep in you. "And if I am?"
The feeling of his cock twitching inside you, slowly growing hard with interest. "Hands on the controls baby." He nipped at your bottom lip. "You know what to do."
A soft flutter filled your stomach as you followed his direction. Taking the lead in a dance that you were now familiar with. With Poe everything came with ease, as if you'd gone through it with him hundreds of times over. And guiding him home was just the beginning.
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chlorinecake · 5 months
Note
HARD THOUGHT WEQOWEWOOWOEO
Jungwon insisting to give you a bath bcs you're sick
(His favorite partt in washing you are your tits, the way his hands brush against your hard nipples,and his hands slowly make his way to your cli—)
Under The Bubbles | Y.JW
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contains established relationship, reader not feeling well, boob play, nudity, kissing, use of pet names, hickeys, fingering, slight overstim, shared bath, not proofread, 1.1k words
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As the evening started to wind down, a floral fragrance filled your senses as Jungwon ran a warm bubble bath for the two of you.
Walking from the bathroom, he snuck up behind your slightly cold body as you laid on your side on your shared bed. Stroking your arm gently, he woke you from your slumber.
He kissed your shoulder, whispering against your skin, “I can tell you haven’t been feeling like yourself lately… is everything alright, love?”
“Hey, Wonie,” you said in a sleepy voice, turning over to face him. “I’ve just been feeling a little sick is all,” you smiled, despite how terrible you were feeling physically. Still, Jungwon’s presence always had a way of cheering you up.
“Aww, my poor baby,” he cooed, running a hand down your hips, “Hmm… Maybe a warm bath will help soothe your symptoms…”
Your cold hands rested on his neck before you answered, “Yeah, that sounds nice,” you let out with a weak yawn, wrapping your legs around Jungwon as he carried you to the bathroom, closing the door behind him.
You didn’t expect for him to stick around, especially not considering how he’d just gotten out the shower himself not too long ago.
He proceeded to strip of his clothes before you, hopping in the bath first.
You couldn’t help but get lost in the sight of his broad shoulders and back muscles, which appeared even more defined in the dim bathroom lighting.
Taking off your clothes, you joined him shortly after, sinking into the water and relaxing immediately at the warmth and comforting scent of grapefruit and lavender.
Lathering up a loofa, your boyfriend lazily yet carefully gave your upper body a gentle washing, admiring you in his heart before pulling you into lap to enjoy the water a little more intimately.
You were pressed up against his chest, his slight hardness resting at your lower back. “You’re enjoying this too much, aren’t you?” You teased, caressing his calves.
“Yes, but why wouldn’t I? I’m always happy to make my beautiful girl feel better,” Jungwon replied with a whisper, playfully nibbling on your ear.
You let out a sound at his action, whining his name as you melted into his touch, “Wonie~”
“Yes, baby?” He said, reaching for the loofa again to lather your tits. The sight of bubbly suds decorating his veiny hands made you feel dizzy on top of all the other sensations. “What is it, kitty?” He pressed, “Don’t get all shy with me now...”
The loofa slipped from his grasp, bubbles fading into the water as his thumbs circled your nipples, ever so often pinching them to elicit a lewd sound from you.
“Fuck,” you moaned weakly, feeling yourself grow needier as you spoke in a hazy voice, “what’re you doing to me?”
“I’m helping you get cleaned up, of course. What else would I be doing?” He smirked in a deeper voice than usual, eyes narrowing with lust as his hands traced your frame, nestling between your thighs before prying them apart, both your knees meeting the sides of the tub.
His left hand continued to massage your tits as his right hand reached for the bottle of body wash, drawing a line with the cold liquid against the base of your thigh. The contrast in temperatures sent shivers down your spine.
Reaching for the loofa, he scrubbed your thighs in circular motions, kissing down your neck as your eyes fluttered, lost in his touch once again.
Splash. The loofa was back in the water, swimming dumbly as his skilled hands trailed to your pussy, fingers running over your clit at an agonizingly slow pace as if savoring the contact. You bucked your hips, craving more as he giggled at your obvious desperation, “How’s this feel? Under the water, I mean.”
You always liked how Jungwon asked for approval whenever he touched you.
“It feels nice,” you said in a breathy voice, already way too effected by him, “but you don’t have to be so gentle.”
“Yeah?” He asked, squeezing your sensitive bud between his ring and middle finger. “But you’re so weak baby,” he whispered, left hand gripping at your neck where he had just left a few marks earlier, “I don’t think you can handle any more than this.”
Your thighs trembled slightly, his fingers moving at an increased speed around your clit, making you clench around nothing.
“Wonie~,” you whined again, guiding his wrists a little lower. He immediately knew what you wanted and dove his fingers past your entrance, barely penetrating you before you started moaning.
“Is this better for you,” he asked, now using his left hand to rub your clit as his right hand hit at the right places inside you, curling at your sweet spot.
Your high started to approach you quickly.
“Mmm, yes baby, please don’t stop,” you practically begged, eyebrows screwing as the pace of his ministrations remained fast and skilled, your mind going blank with pleasure before your back arched, walls sucking his fingers in as you came all over his them, nipples bold and erect.
“That’s it, kitten. Come for me… it’ll make you feel better,” Jungwon said while leading you into overstim, finally slowing down his fingers as your chest started to heave aggressively, the bath water rocking with your movements.
Turning to face your boyfriend, his lips met yours with the sweetest kiss, fingers slipping out of your heat with ease under the foggy water.
You could feel that he was completely hard now, and wanting to return the favor, you pushed through the wobble in your legs, unplugging the drain before turning back to kiss him on the cheek.
“Hey, the water’s still warm? I thought you might’ve wanted to stay in a bit longer before we leave,” he said, lips daring to smirk at how flushed your face looked, all because of him.
Reaching for the clean bath towel hanging on the rack, you sat on Jungwon’s lap, drying his slightly damp hair while your boobs met the front of his chest now, the slick water causing your core to slide against his neglected member.
“____,” he started with a stutter, clinging to your hips with his hands as the water drew even lower, “I say we finish up in here and then take this to the bedroom, yeah?”
You found it cute how even in moments like this, Jungwon tried to seem as though he had complete control over his emotions, even though deep down he was going crazy with the sight of you on top of him like this.
The sight of his love marks on your naked flesh.
“I like that idea,” you whispered seductively, trailing a finger over his plump lip, “you deserve a reward after treating me so well.”
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✧ Thank you to everyone who reading this quick little fic !! And another thanks to the anon who requested this piece because what the heck, I loved the idea so so much 🥺 including the other requests they sent me, but y’all won’t see those til later huhu !!
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