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strangunddurm · 3 years

Text

The Cabin

Masterlist

Pairing: Clyde Logan x fem!reader

Word Count: 6.8k

Warnings: PinV sex, unprotected sex, self pleasure, fingering, masturbation, alcohol consumption.

Please accept my offering of my vision of mountain man Clyde.

A hike in the woods was meant to calm your mind and let you focus on yourself for a while; a sort of cheap alternative to going to a spa. However, you were anything but relaxed, and focused on everything except just yourself.

You were lost. Despite spending hours on YouTube trying to learn how to navigate, you had still taken the wrong turn and didn’t notice until it was too late. Thankfully it was the beginning of autumn, so it was still warm outside, and you didn’t need to start worrying about getting cold just yet, despite the sun slowly descending across the horizon.

The crappy phone which you had insisted didn’t need replacing had died long before you realized just how lost you were. You had a particularly bad habit of never charging your phone and it was coming back to bite you in the ass.

You had taken a, supposedly, easy trail. ‘Beginner friendly’ was the description your friend had given you when you asked for tips. You were cursing them mentally in your mind now, their definition of ‘beginner friendly’ was obviously vastly different from yours.

It had been hours, or at least it felt like it. You were steadily making your way through the granola bars you had packed. Your version of survivor mode consisted of trying to eat everything you could see due to anxiety, instead of saving it in case you’d be out here for hours.

It was the same rock you had passed a while back, you were sure of it, convinced that you were officially just walking in one big circle.

You hadn’t seen anyone else out on the trails which were surprising.; you figured trails were usually always packed with curious adventurers.

The snap of a branch pulled you out of your inner monologue, causing you to freeze and your heart to painfully contract in fear. You were sure that this was the moment you would die; a rabid coyote was surely bound to attack you at any moment. Were there even coyotes in West Virginia? You didn’t want to find out.

Turning around to see what it was that had made the sound wasn’t an option in your mind, it really wasn’t. Turning around would, in your mind, mean that you were accepting being mauled to death and despite your sometimes negative output you wanted to live for a while longer.

“Please, please, please don’t be a coyote… pleas-“ You let out a loud scream as a hand grabbed onto your shoulder, instinctively jabbing your elbow back to connect with the somewhat soft stomach of someone who was very much not a wild and crazed animal.

Whoever was behind you let out a low ‘ouff’ sound from your attack but did not seem overly affected otherwise.

“Sorry!” It was a man’s voice, judging from the deep tone of it. You whirled around whilst simultaneously attempting to take a step backwards, resulting in you falling to the ground ungracefully. There was definitely no chance you could run away from him now if he turned out to be less than friendly.

“Who are you?” You shuffled back against the ground, trying to put some distance between the two of you in naïve hope. The stranger, noticing your distress, put his hands out in front of him whilst taking a few steps back, increasing the distance between the two of you.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare ye.” You surveyed him sceptically as he apologized. He looked like he was a nice person, but that only went so far, anyone had the ability to look nice. He blended into your surroundings, lacking the bright colours you were wearing; it was obvious that he did not share in your desire to want to be seen. He also looked like he was much more used to the woods than you were (not that it was hard).

“Are ye okay?” His question made you realize that you hadn’t replied, and you were still lying there like a seal on the ground. You stumbled up onto your feet with a huff, grabbing a stick that was laying by your hand just as you thrust yourself up.

It was a small stick, definitely incapable of causing serious bodily harm but you hoped that if you were desperate enough, it could poke out an eye. Or at least scratch it.

You held it out in front of you, wielding it like a sword. It was hard not to miss the smile that flew across the stranger’s face. You were most likely a funny sight, a flustered and oblivious city girl waving a twig. But you felt like King Arthur waving Excalibur and that was all that mattered. One lonely girl pumped full of adrenaline could do a lot of damage with a twig and a mean right hook.

“What do you want?” You spat. A tiny voice inside of you told you that you were being ridiculous. Here he was, a nice man probably just concerned over seeing you wander through the woods, obviously lost, so close to nightfall. But the devil on your other shoulder told you to trust no man, to kick him where the sun doesn’t shine and take off like a bat out of hell.

“I just wanted to see if ye were okay; it gets cold out here at night.” He still had his hands up like he was getting arrested. You considered his words carefully. You weren’t okay, you hadn’t planned on staying out until nightfall. All you were going to do was hike to the top of the mountain and go back down, but apparently, you were too incompetent to even perform that simple task.

“I called out a couple of times, but ye didn’t seem to hear me.”

“Oh,” You dropped the twig at the revelation. It explained a lot; you were after all notorious for getting lost in your thoughts and turning deaf.

“Sorry.” You said sheepishly as you lowered the stick to your side but still grasped it tightly (just in case). You sent him a small apologetic smile even though you didn’t owe him one.

“So, do ye need help?”

“Hmm…” Did you need help? You glanced around you, surveying your surroundings again. It was a lot closer to dark than you were comfortable with. The granola bars were all gone, you didn’t have anything warmer on than the fleece jacket you had dug out from the back of your closet. You had no way of contacting anyone and you were not competent enough to build anything close to a working shelter for the night.

You eyed him again as you thought over your answer. He seemed nice enough, he reminded you slightly of a big, burly bear. He was a behemoth of a man, standing tall and wide with dark hair and eyes, but there was some kindness there that made you feel as if you could trust him.

The thing that eventually won you over was his hand, it was obviously a prosthetic now that you were focusing on him. You hoped that a prosthetic hand meant that it was much less likely that he could grab a firm hold on you.

Clyde Logan wasn’t a very talkative man. If you were to google ‘mountain man’ he would pop up as one of the image results. The modern version of course, accompanied by the usual camo gear. You had always had a weakness for the lumberjack flannels and the thick moustache that tickled his lips had you wondering what it would look like drenched in your juices.

But it would be stupid attempting to seduce the grumpy man that had saved you from certain death, right?

He knew so much about the woods and the dangers that were surrounding you, making you realize just how stupid you were to be out there alone. But of course, he didn’t offer you all of this information on his own. No, you had to practically force the words out of his mouth, but thankfully you were the Master of Babble, and he was eventually forced to answer if he ever wanted you to shut up.

You were making your way to his cabin that was apparently just over a mile away. Clyde was leading the way with you practically walking on his heels trying to keep up with his long strides and sneaking looks over your shoulder in paranoia to see if anyone was following the two of you.

Clyde had said that it was too late to return to your car seeing how late it was. Apparently, you had walked in the completely wrong direction from the start and were now a couple of miles away from civilization. He had graciously offered you a sleeping spot in his cabin over the night with a promise to help you back first thing in the morning.

It was picturesque, Clyde’s cabin. Nothing less than what you expected of the man, and surprisingly a lot cleaner than what you had assumed from stereotyping.

“This is so cute!” You admired, sending a small smile up to Clyde with a tilt of your head. He almost looked embarrassed over your praise, only responding with a small huff as he took his shoes off and walking toward the kitchen area.

It was a studio type of situation. Everything was in one room: the small kitchenette, tv-area, and makeshift bedroom. Clyde had flipped a switch which turned on a light that illuminated the entire cabin in a soft glow.

“There’s a bathroom over there.” Clyde gestured to a door on the left, and you couldn’t help peaking in. You hadn’t expected a fully functional bathroom at all, seeing how you were in the middle of nowhere but here it was. And you were so grateful. Going potty in the woods was not on your bucket list.

“Are ye hungry? It’s nothin’ much but I have some sandwiches that we can eat.” Clyde ran his fingers through his hair as he asked the question nervously when you came over after your brief tour of the cabin.

“A sandwich would be great, thank you!” You took it gratefully from his hand as he offered it to you before plopping down on the couch.

You were a lot hungrier than you had though. Your stomach rumbled loudly as you unwrapped the sandwich and taking a bite.

“Have you had this for long?” You said after you had finished chewing your first bite, gesturing with your hand wildly to the cabin.

“Couple of years.” Clyde didn’t look at you as he responded, focused intently on his own sandwich.

He left it at that, not elaborating any further and you didn’t want to cross the obvious boundary he had drawn, so you stayed quiet.

You were never good with silence and awkward situations. When others were perfectly comfortable with silence you just had to talk. Googled had diagnosed it as a symptom of anxiety but you had never actually built enough courage up to actually have a evaluation.

“Do you like to read?” You had taken notice of the overflowing bookcase he had. It was hard not to, it was perhaps the biggest piece of furniture he had, spanning the length of an entire wall.

“Mhmm” Honestly, the hums he would do to answer your questions made you soaked.

“What’s your favourite?” He looked as if he was considering your question, leaning back into his seat and looking up at the ceiling for a moment.

“It would have to be In Search for Lost Time by Marcel Proust.”

“I love that book.”

“Is that so?” You nodded your head with wide eyes, happy to have found a subject to talk about. You loved books, yes, but to be honest you had never read that book. But you were hoping you could wing it enough so that Clyde wouldn’t notice.

“What’s your favourite part?” Okay, so maybe you hadn’t thought it through. You couldn’t hide the small wince you did at his question.

It would’ve been better to have said nothing at all, you just really wanted Clyde to like you. You didn’t know why; it wasn’t like you were ever going to see him again. It was just that there was something about him that made you want to kneel and say, ‘please daddy’ and you didn’t know how to get there with someone so reluctant to talk.

“Ye tryin’ to impress me?” He must be a mind reader.

“Oh, no I just-“ You trailed off, unsure over what to say that would not make you seem as desperate.

He stood up, watching you as he made his way around the room, but he wasn’t moving toward you; instead, he disappeared through the front door without a word.

You deflated like a balloon as the door shut behind him, sinking into the cushions and cursing yourself. Why were you so desperate to impress people? The answer was simple because you were you and you had an irrational need for people having to like you.

Clyde wasn’t gone for long. He had simply gone out to fill up on the firewood for the fireplace that you had neglected to notice before.

“It’s supposed to get below 30 here tonight.” Was it rude to say that you were impressed with how easily he did things despite only having one hand? It wasn’t that you expected him to not be able to function at all, it’s just that you were barely functioning yourself with two hands.

It had already started getting just a tiny bit colder, enough for you to have curled your legs onto the couch, leaning on the armrest with a blanket thrown over you. The cold was a fiend that you would never get along with.

“I’m sorry.”

“What are ye sorry for?” He looked truly bewildered over your words, stopping what he was doing and looking up at you from his crouched position.

“I shouldn’t have lied.”

“’S okay.” He continued with starting a fire. “We’ve all told a white lie.”

“That’s true, but I’m usually better at playing it off.” You joked and he shared a chuckle with you.

It was cozy once Clyde got the fire started. He turned off the lamp in the ceiling, muttering something about preserving a battery, opting to turn on another by the bed and then settled back down. He was sitting next to you this time, not across from you in the chair as previously. You could practically feel the heat radiating from his skin, he was so close. The couch was small, only a two-seater, but you suppose that he didn’t need much more seeing how he was only one person.

Clyde crowded your personal space. It felt like he was everywhere around you, suffocating you (but in the best way). He slung his arm over the back of the couch, just barely grazing your back. You were surprised with how forward he was being but decided not to question it too much, figuring he might take it wrong and shy away.

“Yer not from ‘round here are ye?”

“Is it so obvious?” Of course, it was obvious. You told him where you lived and there seemed to be a small glint of recognition in his eyes.

“Ye should get a guide next time, one of the rangers will take ye for free.” It was surprising how caring he seemed to be.

“One of the rangers?” You didn’t want a ranger to show you around the next time.

“Mhmm”

“Can’t you take me?” You diverted your eyes from his face as you asked the question, feigning being shy. You let them trace down his sculptured-by-God body, double-checking for a ring on one of his fingers. There was none, or well you assumed that it wasn't a wedding ring. It didn't look like one, it had more of a class ring vibe to it.

Clyde didn’t respond immediately. He was studying you, analyzing every crevice of your face it seemed like.

It was impossible not to get lost in his eyes. You tried really hard not to at first but gave up way too quickly. You wondered if he knew just how attractive he was. He had to have several ladies running after him, desperate for a getaway in his cabin in the woods.

“Do ye want me to?” He finally asked. It was obvious that he had tensed up at your question. His back was rigid, he was sitting as straight as you had ever seen a person sit.

“Maybe…” You were subconsciously leaning closer toward him, inhaling as much of his sent as you could discreetly. It was very vampire-like of you.

He smelled just as you thought he would. Like pine trees. There was just the smallest undertone of sweat and it drove you wild. It wasn’t usually your scent of choice for obvious reasons but on Clyde… On Clyde it was as if he had been doused in some kind of pheromones that made you completely drenched and mad with want.

You thankfully stopped yourself before you could release the moan that was bubbling in your throat. Who in their right mind moaned to a stranger that they hadn’t even touched over the way they smelled? (Only counting people that weren’t high or drunk, of course).

It was a battle getting you to lean away from Clyde again, but the rational part of your brain thankfully won. You had to dig your nails into your thighs, trying to pinch yourself through the fabric of your pants to bring you back to reality and gain some self-control.

“I’ll take you.” He promised with a nod, looking as serious as always. You wondered if he always wore that expression with everyone. You hadn’t been able to coax a lot of smiles out of him, despite categorizing yourself as a fairly hilarious person and having cracked some jokes on the walk to the cabin.

You sent him a small smile in response, feeling relieved not to have been rejected. That would’ve been embarrassing.

He surveyed you for a while more before finally asking if you wanted a drink.

The makeshift bar cabinet that he had was surprisingly well-stocked. Too well-stocked for him to be a raging alcoholic. You questioned him curiously about it. Finding out that he was a bartender was a welcomed surprise. You challenged him to make a drink you had never heard of, and he was quick to deliver.

It was delicious, making it easy to pay him compliments over his talent.

“I own a bar, ‘s called Duck Tape.” It was clear that he was proud over his business, with the way his chest seemed to almost swell with his words.

You told him about your own job, not exactly sharing the same enthusiasm seeing how your job was one of the main reasons for why you needed a stress-relieving hike in the first place.

You’d always been a lightweight. It was no secret; you had an uncanny ability to be able to get hammered on one glass of alcohol. Google told you that it could have something to do with your liver, but you did not want to go to the hospital to find out.

You neglected to think about this small fact when you asked Clyde to make you a drink and you were now suffering the consequences. You were drunk, or at least somewhere over the border of tipsy.

Clyde seemed to have relaxed from the alcohol as well. He was much freer in letting a laugh leave his body which had caused you to jump at first in surprise at the boisterous sound.

He had shuffled closer to you, or was it you that had shuffled closer to him? It had happened without either of the two of you noticing but you didn’t try to move away once you did.

You didn’t speak about anything of significance, not really. It was all nonsense, but you never wanted it to stop. Eventually, you mutually decided that sleep was a necessity if you were going to have the energy to get back to your car in the morning.

“Ye can take the bed if ye want.” Clyde motioned over the back of the couch toward the bed in the corner of the room. You glanced over at it, gnawing at your lip as you considered his proposal. Would it be inappropriate to say that you wanted him to share the bed with you?

The bed was too small for it to be shared in any way that wasn’t intimate which was exactly what you wanted.

You assumed that Clyde was as interested in you as you were of him. His hand was dangerously close to your knee as it sat on the seat of the sofa; if he moved his finger less than an inch it would graze your skin.

“Where would you sleep?” You feigned innocent.

“I’ll take the couch.” He knew what you were doing; you could see it in his eyes. They had grown even darker than before and were hooded as they watched you. It was easy to get lost in them, they were the most expressive eyes you had ever seen.

Both of you knew that neither of you would sleep on the couch that night.

There was a flurry of hands and all of a sudden you were in his lap, grinding down, lips connected to one another.

Clyde was a great kisser. Scratch that. He was amazing. He knew exactly how to make you completely drenched from just a few nibbles and strokes of his tongue against your own. He was a natural (Or a player, but you somehow got the impression that he didn’t lure innocent people to his cabin on the regular for a quick lay).

You could feel how hard he was despite the layers separating his bulge from your core. Hard and large and it made you dizzy to think about.

Clyde was taking his time running his hands up and down your waist, his right hand grabbing here and there, never moving under your shirt despite your obvious eagerness. A roll of his hips elicited a moan from you.

Your own hands weren’t shy in their movements; they were grasping onto his broad shoulders, holding on to the fabric as you tried to pull him closer to you.

He separated his lips from yours with a chuckle.

“Eager, are we?” His crooked grin was panty-dropping worthy.

He trailed his lips down your neck before you could reply, suckling gently over your pulse point.

The moan he pulled from you echoed around the room as you tilted your head to the side, allowing him more room to roam.

Your hands tighten their hold on his shoulders. You had always been extra sensitive around the neck and the combination of his lips and the tickle from his moustache was enough to send you into overdrive.

“Clyde…” You breathed out his name shakily, feeling tingles start to travel from your hands and up your arms from the excitement.

He hoisted you up surprisingly quickly from the sofa, causing you to let out a shriek in surprise.

He was strong. Of course, he was strong, you shouldn’t have expected anything else but still…

He carried you toward the bed, setting you down unceremoniously on the edge. You had to grab a hold of the sheet so as not to fall over.

“I want you to strip.” There was no room for arguing in his voice, and it was exactly what you needed. You didn’t want to have to think about your actions.

He was watching you intently, waiting for you to do as you were told, causing you to frantically reach for the zip of your fleece, pulling it down your arms and then throwing it mindlessly away from you.

Your shirt was the next thing that came off. Clyde’s gaze followed as your shirt revealed more and more skin. You didn’t miss the way he bit his lip hungrily.

Your bra wasn’t perhaps the sexiest thing you owned but you weren’t exactly expecting to be in the situation you were when you headed out that morning.

The bra joined the other items a bit slower. You wanted to drag it out; was it mean that you wanted him to have to suffer just a tiny bit?

You were basking in his obvious admiration of your body as you slowly slid the pants down and stepped out of them, leaving you in just your socks and underwear.

Perhaps it wasn’t the sexiest you had ever looked, but it was the sexiest you had ever felt, and that was the important part.

“Panties too.” He had started palming himself through his pants, huffing out small groans of satisfaction here and there. It had made you drenched and you did not doubt that it was obvious to him just how aroused you were.

You were finally standing there in front of him, completely bare, socks and panties having been removed. His eyes ran over every inch and crevice of you that was visible in the low light.

He was still fully dressed, having just unbuttoned his pants so that he could force his hand down to tug at himself.

“I want you to lay down and touch yourself.” Touch yourself? Couldn’t he do it? You opened your mouth to argue but one look from Clyde made you snap your mouth shut again.

The comforter was soft against your skin as you laid down on your back. You were shy as you separated your legs just enough so that you could slip your hand in between your legs.

The first touch was electric. You had never felt such a reaction from simply touching yourself. Sure, you were an expert in getting yourself off, but it never felt quite like this, not this good from so little.

You circled your bud, applying just the right pleasure that caused you to moan. Your eyes fluttered shut involuntarily, getting lost in the feeling building in your belly.

“Open yer eyes.” He had moved closer, a lot closer, with surprising stealth as you hadn’t heard even a low scuffle of feet. His eyes were commanding the attention of your own as he scolded you.

You withdrew your hand automatically from yourself, moving it up to rest on your belly, thinking that he must want you to stop. You were wrong, however, for his eyes snapped down to watch it and he scolded you once again.

“I didn’t tell ye to stop.” He only moved away once more when he was satisfied with your continued movements.

He walked over to the single chair by the living room table, dragging it with him back over to the bed, placing it by the end where he would get just the right view of you working yourself.

He pulled his pants down before sitting down with a huff. He had gone commando. You let out a whimper of need at the sight.

Clyde Logan was the owner of the most perfect cock you had ever seen. It was so heavy that it had barely been able to bob against his stomach, despite his sitting position.

You arched your neck, trying to get a closer look. It was swollen and huge and pink at the tip. His thumb was working over the head, smearing the precum that had leaked out.

“Ye stopped.” It was a statement, and he didn’t need to give you further instructions for you to once again start moving your hand between your legs.

You let it travel further down this time, to collect some of your wetness with two fingers before bringing it up to your mouth and tasting yourself. Sweet and tangy.

Clyde didn’t make a single sound to let you know if he was affected by your actions, so all you could do was assume that he was, and that was enough to spur you on.

You brought your hand back down, inserting a finger slowly, testing the waters. You were more than ready, your walls giving way easily to the intrusion.

A second soon joined the first and you set a steady rhythm, pumping them in and out with a squelch as your walls clenched around your digits. Your other palm came up to massage at your breast, twisting the nipple between your fingertips.

Your chest heaved with your moans that were penetrating the air. It was hard keeping your eyes open with the overwhelming pleasure you were feeling but you had to stay focus, you didn’t want to miss a second of seeing Clyde slumped from the pleasure of his touch as he fucked into his hand.

“I want ye to make yerself cum.” You were more than happy to give in to this demand. Your fingers were moving urgently inside of you, and your other hand moved on from your breast, coming down to pinch at your clit and then rub tight small circles over it.

The heat that had been steadily building inside of you, blossoming in your stomach, was slowly taking over your entire body now. Your toes were beginning to curl, and you were fighting your eyes from rolling backwards in your head.

And then, it all became too much for you and you let go and the best part of it all rolled over you like tidal waves, washing through you, soaking you with that post-orgasmic glow.

You let your fingers slowly slip out of you, letting your arms fall to your sides as you watched Clyde get up. You didn’t know if he had come, having been too focused on yourself, but it didn’t matter, he still stood at full attention.

Your mouth practically frothed at the sight of him, you could turn rabid from the need that you had for him. A whine slipped out of your mouth, an arm lifting up to reach out for him, needing to touch him.

He came close enough so that your fingers could just barely brush against the fabric of his pants that he still insisted on having on.

Rage took over your body. It was an irrational rage, why did he still have them on? You wanted them off and you wanted them off now. You had to see him, all of him, before you went insane from the deprivation. Was it even possible? To lose your mind over not getting to see another person naked? You certainly thought so.

You sat up, leaning on one of your shoulders as you looked up at him with a glare on your face.

“Take them off.” He was thoroughly amused by your attempt at a demand. You didn’t achieve quite the same rumble in your tone that he had which left no room for arguing, but still, he conceded and pushed the pants down his legs until they were low enough to be kicked off.

His shirt followed soon after, almost hitting you in the face as he threw it carelessly toward the corner of the bed.

You couldn’t help but admire him. A work of art, good enough to be hung in the Met, that was for sure.

You got on your knees in front of him, the height from the bed aiding you in being just tall enough so that you could place kisses on his chest- You placed the first one in the middle, right over his sternum whilst looking up at him.

Your eyes stayed locked as you planted another kiss over his heart, the next on his right pec, and so forth. They circled around one of his nipples, letting your teeth give it a small nibble before pulling it with you just a bit before releasing it and letting it revert to its original state, hard as a rock.

It was starting to get more and more obvious just how affected Clyde was getting, his arousal much more prominent, if that was even possible. You could feel it against your skin, you didn’t want to touch it just yet, dragging it out for as long as you could.

You enjoyed watching him become more and more flustered by your actions. His chest was heavy with each audible breath, cock tapping against your lower stomach, begging to be touched, but you kept your hands away. They were holding on to his thighs, caressing them in small movements that were making their way toward his cock at snail pace.

“Ye gon’ tease me all night?” You let out a laugh at the ridiculous accusation. If anybody had been the one to tease, it was Clyde.

“Are you going to tease me all night?” You threw the question back at him, biting your lip with an innocent smile.

He growled. He actually growled and you could feel how it caused a trickle to roll down your leg.

“Didn’t yer mammy or daddy ever teach ye not to talk back?”

“They didn’t actually” His eyes had steadily grown darker and darker as the evening progressed and were now on the border of black.

He smashed your lips together, grabbing a hold of your face with his right hand with a bruising grip. He kissed and nipped at your lips before pulling back and pushing you back onto the bed.

He was quick to follow you onto the bed as he guided you to lay on your back, spread eagle, with him kneeling between your legs. His hands were on his hips as he watched you. You squirmed under his gaze, trying to create some type of friction anywhere that would aid in bringing you closer to another release.

His kisses started on your inner knee, building their way up at a torturous pace. He didn’t leave a kiss between your legs; instead, he just hovered there so you could feel his hot breath tickle you before continuing.

You were practically sobbing for more when he finally made it to your lips.

“Please, you have to…”

“I have t’ what?” He looked completely serious as he looked down at you, balanced on one hand. He was expecting an answer from you, and you didn’t know what to say. You obviously wanted him to fuck you but for some reason, you were too shy to say it.

“Mhm… thought so,” He hummed before dropping down to his elbows pressing his entire body onto you.

You could feel all of him. His skin was electric against your own and you could feel his length brushing over your clit. He rolled his hips in a small wave and you arched your back from the moan that escaped you.

It had all built up so much that the smallest touch from him could cause you to completely fall apart, despite the orgasm you had had. It was because it was different when Clyde was the one that touched you; your own touch was nowhere near adequate in comparison.

He rolled his hips again, this time applying just a bit more pressure and you couldn’t help but to widen and draw up your legs slightly, wanting to give him easier access.

“I didn’t tell ye tha’ ye could move.” You were trembling from need at his words. You needed more; couldn’t he understand that?

You were reluctant as you started to bring your legs back down, but he (thankfully) hooked his left arm around your leg, stopping its descent. He hoisted it up to rest by the side of his hip as he simultaneously sat back upon his haunches.

“Do ye need me inside of ye?” Your head had started nodding before he could even finish the sentence, causing a wicked smile to spread across his face.

“I need t’ be inside of ye too.” They were the most glorious words you had ever heard.

His right hand gave a tug at his cock, but it didn’t need any more preparation. It was hard and as ready for you as you were him. He grabbed a hold of base, stabilizing it as he dragged it through your sweet and slickened folds before slowly slipping inside.

Your walls easily gave way for him as he finally pushed in due to your overflowing arousal. He stretched you as wide as you would go with little pain and raw pleasure. You were clenched tightly around him, walls squeezing him in a vice grip, trying to draw him in even deeper.

You could feel yourself grow more and more manic in your need as he sunk deeper and deeper into you. It was as if all other senses had disappeared and all you could focus on was his powerful thrusts that were drilling into you.

He kept your right leg at his hips, whilst his other hand was hoisting your left over his shoulder after just a few deep thrusts.

You choked from the warmth that spread through your body from this position. He was deeper than you even knew you could take him. The head of his cock tapping at your cervix with every drilling thrust but there was no pain, only excruciating pleasure that made tears leak from your eyes from happiness.

The carnal need was as fervent within Clyde as it was you. He couldn’t take it slow; his thrusts were forceful and intent on driving you to your next orgasm as quickly as he could.

“Fuck, ye feel good.” Clyde hissed. “Such a sweet an’ tight little pussy.”

Your eyes could barely focus on him, only catching small glimpses of him with his hair plastered to his forehead from the moisture that was collected there. Your hands were grasping onto the duvet, needing something to hold onto in desperation.

His thrusts were precise and well calculated; he hit that spot inside of you over and over again that made you let out guttural moans.

But he enjoyed torturing you and he suddenly came to a halt, retracting from you completely.

“Move over.” He helped to guide you in your haze. Your own movements were thankfully still quick despite your barely lucid mind as you shuffled to the side, and he laid down on the bed.

Clyde’s hand was supporting his base, helping it stand tall, ready for you to penetrate yourself onto it. You threw your leg over his hips to straddle him. You hovered over his cock, looking down to see how you were dripping on to him.

You didn’t stay there for too long before mounting yourself onto it, dropping down with a pant as you engulfed him within you.

The pace you set was frantic, chasing climax. Your hands came down to rest on his chest to better help you push yourself up and down his cock. The sound of your skin slapping against his echoed around the room, driving your wild.

He was a sight for sore eyes underneath you. Lost in the madness and wild from it all. His desire and pleasure were so clear on his face from the way his mouth was parted and the way his eyes admired you, following your every movement.

He used his right hand to help you ram down onto him again and again.

You got on your feet, gaining better leverage than you had had before on your knees, bouncing up and down. You were so, so close; you could feel your orgasm simmering there underneath the surface, you just needed a small push to get there. And Clyde delivered that small push.

“Yer such a good girl, takin’ me so well. You just love bein’ fucked, don’t ye?”

Your walls clamped down on him, legs shaking as you came to a stop, being unable to continue as you fell forward onto his chest, overwhelmed by the pleasure that filled your body.

He received you in his arms, letting his hand caress over your spine as you continued to slightly convulse from your orgasm.

“Such a good girl” He crooned in your ear with a kiss and tug on your lobe.

Clyde wasn’t as sweet when he pinned both your arms to your sides with one of his, holding you in place as he started slamming his hips up into you, chasing his own pleasure.

The sounds that came out of your as he rammed himself in over and over again were indistinguishable. You were gushing around him, your entire body vibrating from another orgasm, but he still didn’t let up. His hips were starting to stutter, however, thrusts being off-pace as he pounded into you.

And then a sharp thrust was accompanied by a husky cry as he ejected deep inside of you. He managed to pump into you a few more times as your walls milked him, your mixed climaxes collecting at his base.

You were exhausted, unable to move so he stayed there, deep inside of you as he grew flaccid.

You thought it was a fuck for the history books.

#clyde smut #clyde logan fanfiction #clyde logan x you #clyde logan #clyde #clyde x reader #clyde logan smut #clyde logan x reader #adcu fanfic #adcu fic rec #adam driver #adcu community #adcu fanfiction #adam driver character #adcu #oneshot

188 notes · View notes

silverrstarrr · 3 years

Text

extra hand

Update note: Happy spring break loves! Here's a smut I never finished but I still wanted to post it. I'll be taking break from writing eren. I recently started simping for geto Suguru from jjk so😩

Okay, so this is my first smut. I'm just experimenting and playing around with things. I WOULD LOVE CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM, but don't bash me bc I'm a little sensitive and then go off 🥲. Song? Um, don't get mad at me but killshot by Magdalena b. slowed n reverb and no guidance remix, slowed n reverb.😕🦴

Pairings: erenxf!reader, smut!

Warnings: fingering, swearing, idk??

"Fuck!"

You tossed your phone onto the nearby bed in the spawn of annoyance, watching the mobile device bounce up a few times, then settling down into the soft comforter. Why were you irritated? It was because he hasn't texted. Eren Yeager haven't texted you back.

Your relationship with eren was a toxic one. You weren't the type to romanticize or fetishize "toxicness" but here you are, putting yourself in one.

Eren was your boyfriend, well, ex-boyfriend? The both of you used to talk, met at a dumb frat boy party. This should have raised red flags immediately but you guessed the alcohol was to blame for it.

You guys had a small heated makeout session in one of the corners, away from the crowd. Sadly your friend was vomiting all over the place and had to take your leave.

Slowly you started seeing each other on campus and exchanged numbers. He'd always flirt with you, crack small jokes and was a good listener.

Sometimes he made small gestures and teasing comments that made the tension between you two, very heavy.

You started talking to him more than usual. you were sure eren only gave you his number to call you anytime he was in the mood, which happened often. It was obvious he's been with other women before cause, phew, he knew how to put it down.

Despite being fuck buddies, he was always down to chat and talk about things. You adored everything about him. How unkempt his hair was, the way he'll always ask how you were feeling and was willing to help you–his beautiful jade eyes.

Anytime you were upset with him, he always knew how to catch your attention again. From all this, you caught feelings. Real bad. But eren didn't feel the same, well so you thought.

Eren was walking around campus with another girl, arm slung around her shoulder, him whispering sweet nothings in her ears as you watched her face get red and started laughing. He even took you on small dates to restaurants and hanged out at his dorm.

You stood there dumbfounded. He played you. You guys were never a thing, you didn't understand why you thought you'll be different, he's a fuck boy after all.

He hit you up later that night, wanting to have a sesh in his car. Your emotions were spilled all over the place. you messaged him back questioning about the girl he was with. You sounded so desperate and you hated it.

From the way you were texting he knew you've caught feelings and automatically cut you off.

You were shocked, you hoped for him to just clear things up and tell you those overly used line: "she doesn't mean anything". You know, what most guys tell their girlfriends after being caught cheating.

But that was 4 months ago. He recently got in touch with you two week ago. How dare he just try to slide back into your life as if nothing happened? you were beyond pissed but you still messaged him back anyways. What the fuck? You're just going to get hurt all over again. You guys were chatting for a good week and decided to meet at his dorm.

"Hey y/n, long time no see, huh." He said

you clicked your tongue. "So you just ghost girls out of nowhere and hit them back up whenever you feel like it?" you were absolutely irritated, you wanted to punch his stupid face.

Eren rolled his eyes and let out a tiresome sigh. "It's whatever, get over it. I messaged you back, correct? You should be happy."

He was high. You could already tell by the way he smelled and the reason why he texted you out of the blue.

"Fuck you, Eren." You stormed out of there with your blood rushing. You were so angry but wanted to cry so much. "Whatever"? Was he serious?

You immediately called an uber and went home.

You rented out an apartment with one of your friends from high school. They were out most of the time so you never really saw them.

Automatically, eren was blowing up your phone with text messages. You didn't answer them, and kept him on delivered.

Which didn't last long because early on, on Tuesday, you messaged him back.

He was obviously upset you left him up and dry for a week but got over it.

Now, you're here. Waiting for his reply once again, your last text message was three days ago. It was currently Saturday night, 6:48 pm.

He hasn't responded since Wednesday. Was he going to ghost you again? Maybe he found another girl to mess with? bzzt bzzt You instantly whipped your head back, and stared at your phone's now lightened screen. You had a notification,

From eren.

Unlocking your phone, you checked what he sent.

"Can you come over?"

"pls?"

You read, then reread, then read again. He wanted you to come over? he's doing it again. He's fucking doing it again. He responds three nights later, what the fuck.

You didn't respond at first. Just staring at the open conversations.

You guessed eren saw that you read his text and three dots appeared on the lower left, he was typing.

"y/n, I know I fucked up but please can you respond at least?"

Your thumbs swiped against the keyboard.

"say what? what do I owe you a response for?" You sat down on your bed as the blue bubble sent.

"my phone got messed up, I dropped in it in the rain on my way back from practice. It cracked really bad"

You studied the screen not knowing what to say. You couldn't tell if he was lying or if it was true. But it did rain on Tuesday, so his story wasn't completely untruthful.

"I'll be over in 10"

That's it, you gave in to him. You're just setting yourself up again for another heartbreak.

You decided to prepare yourself. This was going to be a long night

—

You had your jacket on as you stepped out the door. It was still winter, luckily the piled up snow died down.

You quickly jogged to your uber and entered inside. the driver took off shortly after you came in.

The drive was pretty short, he was only ten minutes away. you wished it was longer, so you could lecture yourself for the decision you made.

You hoped out the car and went inside the boys dormitory. His dorm was on the left wing, so you proceed towards that direction.

Eren shared a dorm with Armin, you hoped he was there just in case a heated argument happened because you had a feelings one would come.

Arriving at the hall where all the rooms were at, you walked down the hall checking the numbers, so you'll know which one was his.

You despise that you remembered it as you stood in front of his door.

You pulled out your phone to shoot him a quick "here" to notify your arrival.

Not too long after, a tall brunette opened the door, he immediately grabbed your wrist and pulled you inside.

The room was dim and dark, other than the dark purple LD lights.

You felt your back make contact with the door behind you, he snaked his free hand around your waist. He pressed his lips against yours, you could feel his impatience as he tilted his head slightly to the side to deepen the kiss.

He pulled away ever so slight and licked the bottom of your lip asking for entrance, so intoxicated by his lust you simply obeyed and parted your mouth slightly. His warm tongue slipping in exploring every inch of your mouth.

You ran your other hand over his black t-shirt trailing up to his neck soon afterwards interlocking your fingers in his brown locks. Although the kiss felt rushed it still made you melt, and gave a small throb down in your area. You slightly tugged on his hair earning you a groan into the heated kiss.

The butterfly’s in your stomach were going on a rampage and your heart was beating out of your chest. He slightly pulled away from the kiss, a string of saliva connecting your mouths together.

"...eren," you moaned slightly.

He was looking down at you, you were so stunning beneath him—face already flustered from one kiss. he wanted to here his name once more.

traveling down to your neck, he started showering it with wet kisses, and continued traveling down. He reached your collarbone and gave it a small bite, as the skin turned red, your grip in hair grew tighter. You were a mess, already ready feeling slick in between your legs as you rubbed them together, desperate for any sort of friction.

eren slid his hand upwards from your waist to your shirt, his soft hands grazed your bare skin—rubbing slowly, sending shivers down your spine.

you released another breathy moan as he continued at your neck. Hearing you moan was a blessing to him, he couldn't stop thinking about you ever since your last encounter.

He wanted to defile you, run his hands all over your body, touching placing only he knew he had access to—having your fingers intertwined in his long locks as he heard dumb founded mewls, begging him to stop teasing and give you what you wanted.

He pulled himself away from your neck, leaving you stunned at his sudden stop.

" why'd you st-" you were cut off by the jerk at your arm once again. He was taking you to his room as you trailed behind him, not saying a word.

Reaching his room, he pulled you inside, his lips crashed against yours once more, he kicked the door with his foot and closed it, locking the knob.

Your mind was fuzzy, you felt so heated and felt your pussy clench against nothing. You wanted him so bad, his impatience was rubbing off of you. But you couldn't bring yourself to tear away from his mouth, his lips felt so soft against your own. It made you feel wanted by him again, as if he never ghosted you and needed you this whole time.

Your back touched the soft mattress of his bed as he climbed on top of you, you were going haywire. you gave in to him with no obligation whatsoever and was dominanted in response. you can't say you didn't expect this from the moment he decided to text you.

His hands slithered up your shirt, pushing it up, grabing a hold of your breast through the bra. you smiled at his eagerness to touch you, how long has he been like this? using your elbows to support you, you raised your upper back from the bed as his other hand came around and unhooked your bra.

The butterflies in your stomach wouldn't stop, the warmth from his body felt attonishing against your own. sloppy kisses smothered across your lips, each break releasing a moan from one another, hearing throughout the room.

You laid back down as his hand large hands began fondling with your breast, your nipples were already hard from all the foreplay.

Eren hips started to grind against your pelvis,

"Fuck..." he moaned out, his face was already red, blushing like a dumb teenage virgin.

You break the kiss and sat up to remove your shirt, eren gave you space to do so–moving back a little. You tossed it on the floor, on the otherside of the bed, along with your bra, which was sitting next to you since eren took it off. You knocked you shoes off as well.

You immediately leaned towards eren wrapping your arms around his neck, lips already on his own, making him fall towards your direction—giving you a chance to wrap your legs around his waist. Your back made contact with the mattress once again and you moved your hips, grinding your heated core against his crotch.

"Dammit y/n...fuck, I can't stand this...when you do this to me."

Eren followed the same action as you. Releasing small moans and you both continued to dry hump one another.

You tugged at his shirt, wanting him to take it off. You didn't like it when you were the only bare and he knew this, a small chuckled erupted from his throat as he got on his knees–hands grasping the hem of the shirt, tugging it over his head.

You laid there in awe, he still kept his shape after all these months. You guessed those practices were really paying off. Your hand trailed up his torso, feeling his sculpture chest beneath your palm. His skin was so soft, you drifted your hand back down, passing over his abs.

"You like what you see?" he said smirking down at you.

"Shut up." you spat out.

Eren moved back down to your chest and took a hold of your breast, bringing his mouth to your nipple–while his other hand supported his weight. He gave it a long lick eyes flickering up at you, checking your reaction. His mouth was warm, his heavy breath touching your skin while he decided to play with your nipple.

You released small grunts as his red tongue swirled around your perked bud, closing his mouth then releasing it—leaving kisses and bite marks all around your breast. You were prepared for all the purplish marks you'll in the morning, you prayed you had your ointment at home.

Using his other hand, he slid his hand down your stomach, earning another moan from you. His touch felt so ethereal, this was what your body was craving for all these months.

His hand slid past your joggings, making contact with your cotton underwear. He dipped his fingers between your lips, gathering the slick that was leaking from your heat. His fingers brushed against your clit, as you moaned his name,

"eren—hnng, stop teasing—"

His only response was a smirk as he released his lips from your nipple with a wet pop sound.

"look how wet you are for me, hm? what happened to that attitude that you're so keen of?" his index finger continued to rub against your entrance, your clit getting some friction in the process. His middle finger plunge into your hole, sliding is easily from the lubrication of your wetness as he began pumping his finger in a steady motion, each stroke going deeper and deeper, stretching you out.

"nnghh—fuck eren..." your voice pitched at a higher tone for a moment.

you haven't felt like this is a while, his long digit fitted perfectly into your hole.

"hm? look how tight you pussy has gotten without me, can't wait to feel you around me."

Eren pulled his finger out, using his index to spread open your lips, then gathered some more slick as both fingers went inside.

He was prepping you up for his length, since you haven't had sex in a while. His fingers started to scissor you, both spreading out in your core—stretching you out even more.

Your hand immediately went for his hair and tugged at it with a grunt, eren moaned at your aggressiveness with his brunette locks.

"s-stop...mfhh." another soft mewl escaped your lips.

Eren pulled out his fingers and rested them in your panties.

"Stop?" He knew what you meant, he always does. his eyebrow turned to an arch, waiting an answer.

"m'didn't mean for you...to," you couldn't form a sentence, your mind was so hazy from the heated atmosphere between you two. you wanted his touch again, you hated the feeling of you clenching around nothing.

eren gave your chest a few pecks, then one at your neck close to your jaw.

"use your words, y/n." man, he was enjoying this too well. He missed this part of you so bad, having you a complete mess under his touch.

"I want you inside of me." The last word was spoken in a lower tone, you were embarrassed. Never knew you'll hear those words come from your mouth again.

"Good girl." He bought his fingers up to his mouth as he sucked on them, swirlying his pink tongue around his digits while directly making eye contact with you. Releasing them with another wet pop, he start to work on his joggers.

Moving off of you, he swing his legs to the edge of bed, pullng down his gray sweats as it hits the floor–slides it across the floor. He did the same with his boxers.

You did the same, taking off your bottoms along with your damp panties, placing it over with your other clothing.

erens cock slapped against his abdominal, precum already dripping from the slit of head.

He gave himself a few strokes, groaning loudly as he shifted back to your direction. Settling between your legs, he uses his hand to trace his pink tip between your folds, slipping between your lips constantly—gathering lubrication.

"m'mfgh...stop teasing eren," your chest was heavy with anticipation, you wanted him inside you so bad. His free rest on your bended knee, his fingers drawing circles.

"shhh, y/n—I know." He coos.

Finally, he dipped his cock into your seeping hole as your velvety walls draw him in–not giving him a chance to adjust from tight you were. You both moan in unison, feeling contentment, getting what you guys wanted you at last.

" hnng, you're so tight...shit," erens eye closed shut while he pushed the rest of his length inside you. Even after stretching you out with his fingers, you were still tight and eren enjoyed every second of it.

Once he was in all the way, his cock was a snug fit—he waited for you to adjust so he could move.

Your chest now heaving up and down, you give a little nod—signaling it was okay to move. Drawing his hips back, he slid out of your core completely and immediately thrusted forward entering back to your wet core.

Eren began thrusting into you at a steady pace as his both of his hands grabbed your legs, resting them behind your knee.

You knew it'll be a long night.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

update note: HAHAHA IM BACK GUYS MORE FANFICS. I'm finally on spring break 😭

#x reader #anime #attack on titan #eren headcanons #eren x reader #eren yeager #eren yeager x reader #aot x black reader #eren jeager x reader #eren jeager #eren jeager headcanons #armin x black reader #eren aot #eren yeager smut

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fanficbitch · 3 years

Text

Aaron Hotchner // The Set Up

I sit at my desk like I do every morning in the BAU, just typing on my computer. Aaron was obviously here before I got here, but everyone else is slowly trickling in. “Hey pretty girl,” I hear from behind me. I turn to see Morgan setting down his stuff at his desk.

“Hello hot stuff,” I fire back. He raises his eyebrows at me then sits down.

“Do you know if we have a case yet?” he asks me.

“I think Hotch mentioned something about us having a few days here,” I say.

“Well, that’s a change of pace,” Morgan laughs. I go back to my computer and continue my work. Reid and JJ come in in the meantime, but they go straight to their desks.

Suddenly, Penelope comes bursting into the bullpen. “What’s up babygirl?” Morgan asks as she runs past him.

“Not now sugar,” she tells him as she runs straight to me. “Y/N,” she says breathlessly.

“Yeah Penelope?” I laugh.

“I just met the most perfect man for you,” she says and my stomach drops.

“Oh really, where?” I ask.

“At the coffeeshop down the street. We just started talking and I immediately realized he was the perfect guy for you,” she says. “So I took it upon myself to set you two up on a date.”

I glance in Hotch’s office to make sure he isn’t listening. Sure enough, he is busy writing something on his desk. “You know, I’m so busy-,”

“I’m not taking any excuses!” Penelope shouts. “I already gave him your number, and here is his,” she says and hands me a slip of paper. “He also has my number so if you don’t call him, I’ll know.”

I look at the number and sigh. I know there is nothing but the truth that will get me out of this. But I’m not ready to reveal that yet. “When is this date?” I ask and Penelope squeals.

“Tomorrow night at Capital Grill,” she says then gives me a hug. “You’re the best! Well, actually I’m the best because I set this up!” she says then runs off to the batcave.

I shouldn’t be surprised. Penelope is always trying to set someone up with someone else she finds somewhere. There is just one very important person I need to tell about my date: my boyfriend.

**********

It just so happens that Aaron was planning to spend the night at my house tonight. I didn’t get any time to talk to him during the day, so I need to break the date news to him.

I spit my toothpaste into the sink then glance through the open bathroom door at Aaron who sits in my bed reading a book. It’s okay, this is totally normal. He’ll understand.

I turn off the bathroom light then slide into bed next to Aaron. I lean my head on his shoulder and wrap my arm around his. Aaron stays silent, but a small smile grows on his face. “How was you day?” I ask. He sighs then sets his book down on his nightstand.

“Well, I did a lot of paperwork and went through some past cases. It was pretty busy,” he says. “What about you?”

“Yeah, I did a lot of paperwork too,” I say quickly.

He raises his eyebrows at me. “Are you okay? You are acting a little funny.”

I pull my hands back from his body and sigh. “I have a date tomorrow night,” I tell him. He raises his eyebrows again in confusion. He scratches his forehead then turns to me.

“I thought that this relationship was relatively serious,” he says slowly.

“It is, it is,” I reassure him. “It’s just that Penelope came up to me saying she had the perfect guy for me and basically forced me to say yes. And I couldn’t really say no since we aren’t telling anyone about this.”

“I suppose that is a fair point,” Aaron says. “Where are you going?”

“Capital Grill,” I say. Aaron smiles then turns off the lamp on his nightstand.

“Well at least you’ll get a free meal out of it,” he says.

“So you’re okay with this?” I ask carefully.

“Well, no. But it doesn’t sound like you have a choice,” he says then lays down. “Goodnight.”

I sit there, a bit stunned. I guess I’m happy that Aaron is okay with this, but I expected a little more hesitation when I told my boyfriend I have a date with someone else.

**********

I wait at the bar of the Capital Grill sipping a glass of white wine. I got here a little early because I was a bit nervous. The fact that Aaron is completely fine with this date isn’t helping ether. I would think that my boyfriend would care a little bit that I am out with another man. “Y/N?” I hear from behind me.

I spin in the chair to see a tall man with brown curly hair. “Yes, and are you Peter?” I ask and he nods. I stick out my hand and shake his.

“It’s so nice to meet you,” he tells me. “Can I show you to our table?”

“Lead the way,” I smile and follow him through the dimly lit restaurant. We land at a table for two in the corner of the restaurant. Peter pulls out my chair then pushes me in once I sit down. He smiles at me once he sits down across from me.

“I have to admit, I’m not one to go on blind dates, but your friend was very insistent,” he says.

“Yeah, she can get like that,” I chuckle.

“But now meeting you, I am so glad that I said yes,” he says. Heat rushes to my cheeks although the color is covered by the darkness of the room. I am left a little speechless. I don’t want to miss lead him, but I don’t want to be rude either.

“Thank you,” I smile then sip my wine.

“So, your friend mentioned that you work for the FBI. Tell me more about that?” he says.

“Well, I work in the behavioral analysis unit which basically means I analyze killers.”

“Wow, that is incredible. Your work is so-,” Peter says, but I stop listening. A person to my left catches my attention. I see Aaron barreling towards our table with focus on his face.

“A-Aaron?” I ask.

“Who is this?” Peter asks.

“Um, it’s my boss,” I say and Aaron raises his eyebrows at me.

“That’s it? I’m just your boss?” he asks. “I’m sorry to break this up, but you are on a date with my girlfriend,” he says and Peter’s eyes widen.

“I think I’m gonna go,” Peter says then leaves the table.

“I’m sorry,” I say as he walks away. Aaron sits down in Peter’s seat. “Aaron, what in the world are you doing here?”

“I couldn’t let you go on a date with another man,” he says.

“Well, it didn’t seem like you cared,” I say.

“Of course I care,” he whispers. “You are the best thing to happen to me since Haley died. I know weren’t planning on telling the team for a while, but I think we are going to have to if this keeps happening.”

I sigh. “At this point, I don’t care who knows that you’re my boyfriend.”

“Good,” Aaron smiles. “Now let’s get out out of here.”

I hold out my hand which he takes. “Take me away.”

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imaginedxlan · 3 years

Text

Pike (George Weasley)

a/n: i have an addiction. i’m sorry. take this platform away from me. anyway ENEMIES TO LOVER BITCHES.

You’ve always hated George Weasley. You can’t quite explain why, but the two of you have had bad blood since the moment you met freshman year. it’s nothing either of you said or did, just the general presence of the other always set something off in the two of you. however, you weren’t going to give up partying at his frat just because you hated the red haired boy.

warnings: alcohol & cussing, unconsensual touching but it isn’t graphic(not by george obv), mentions of sex and assault/sexual violence, violence and fratboy!georgie

i’m very serious when i say do not read this if you’re easily triggered or impacted by the theme of sexual assault. there is nothing graphic in this fic but i know it is very easy to be triggered by even the smallest mention. if you ever and i mean EVER need someone to talk to about anything pertaining to the topic, my messages are always open. dealing with sexual assault in any form is one of the most traumatising things a person can go through. please never hesistate to reach out if you’re struggling. i love you guys so much, i never want to go suffer in silence.

if you or someone you know if struggling with a rape or sexual assault, you can call 800.656.HOPE (4673) to be connected to a sexual assault service provider in your area. all my hugs and kisses to you all, i love you with all my heart❤️

saturday nights on campus are nothing short of lively for you and your friends. whether you’re testing your fake ids at every bar on the main street or dancing in a sweaty frat basement, there’s never been a dull weekend.

pike has always been your favorite fraternity to attend . you’d become close with some of the pledges on your floor your freshman year and have become obsessed with shutting down every function they hold at the house. there is one part of pi kappa alpha, however, that you could do without. george weasley.

the six three, red haired monster has been getting under your skin for an entire year now. since you met in your first semester of freshman year, you and george had never been on good terms. between the constant teasing from him or your drunk screaming matches that you’ve initiated almost every weekend, it’s safe to say that you two need to be kept as far away from each other as possible.

your friends have never understood the feud. they’ve always described george as one of the nicest guys they’ve ever met. he takes their coats at the door of every pike party to hide in his room to keep them safe from the drunk kleptomaniacs or vomit that inevitably spews from the mouth of a freshman girl. he’s always kept an eye out for your friends, but when it comes to you he swears if murder was legal you’d be six feet under by now.

as you and your friends got ready in your shared apartment for the night ahead of you, the annual pike’s peak ski themed party, you loathe the fact that you’ll be forced to see him again. you wish more than anything that he wasn’t so close with your friends, but alas, he is.

“y/n, can you please promise me something?” Angelina pleads, making you pause your makeup routine to look at her as if to say ‘go on.’ “no fighting with george tonight, we all need one night when the two of you aren’t at each other’s throats.”

if only it were that easy. there have been times in the past when angie and katie have convinced you to play nice with the boy, but he always ends up starting some type of fight with you.

“angie i’ve told you, i have no problem ignoring him for the good of the group,” you reiterate the countless times you’ve tried to prove to the girls that you’re the bigger person. “it’s him you should be talking to, he always starts it.”

katie sighs, already imagining the screaming match that will ensue tonight. “well if he starts something just walk away, easy as that.”

you mull it over for a minute. as much as ignoring him will make it seem like you’ve run out of insults, your vocal chords could use the rest this weekend. you agree to try and keep your mouth shut around george.

the three of you zip up your obnoxiously bright ski jackets over the black sports bras and jeans you’re wearing. you loved pikes peak, you could put in virtually no effort and still look like you spent hours getting ready.

the pike house is already buzzing with the bass of whatever mix oliver wood put together for the party. it’s not a pike party without ollie behind the dj booth. the high that you’re on as you walk past the pledges fades as your faced with george weasley.

just ignore him.

“look at my most beautiful groupies,” he says with a smile, scanning over angie and katie. “and...whatever that is.”

you can already feel your cheeks heat up with rage and your fists tighten. you take a deep breath and repeat katie’s words just an hour ago, ‘walk away.’ you roll your eyes at the boy and move your way through the party, eventually taking your spot next to ollie behind the dj stand.

“well hey there miss y/n,” ollie greets you, resting his headphone around his neck and pulling you into a hug. “half expected you to be beating weasley to a pulp by now.”

you laugh at his honesty, everyone expects some huge blow up between you and george within the first few minutes of a party. “trying something new, ignoring him for the night. can’t tire myself too much.”

ollie just smiles and goes back to the music. you’re adding songs to the queue and laughing along with him. you almost forgot how much you missed spending time with him, most of your interactions with the boy group ending with a fight with weasley without even being able to talk with the other boys.

across the room, george is watching you actually enjoy yourself and is fuming. he’s so used to being able to get under your skin, so you blowing him off was a major knock to his ego. he thrives on your reactions to his teasing, feeling like he doesn’t even have a purpose at this party now that you’re ignoring him.

you eventually leave oliver behind the booth and find angelina and katie, luckily they’re now where near george, rather dancing with his twin. you’ve always liked fred, but your constant arguing with his brother makes it hard for you to have any sort of friendship with him. this is the first pike party you’ve been to all year that you’re genuinely enjoying yourself. dancing with your friends, drinking without a care. the night is actually starting to look up.

you tell angie and katie that you’re off to the bathroom, the beers and seltzers finally catching up to your bladder. as you make your way through the crowd of people, you finally make it to the bathroom which is in the furthest corner of the house. before you can reach for the handle, someone is grabbing at your wrist.

“let’s go to my room.” the boy slurs, you turn to see a tall boy, far taller than you. you recognise his face but don’t know his name.

“no than-“

“i wasn’t asking,” he cuts you off and grabs your hip with his other hand. “come on i know you want to.”

“no just get off of me!” you yell trying to push his hands away from you but his death grin on your body doesn’t seem to be loosening. using your free hand you start beating the boys chest and that seems to just make him angrier. “you’re hurting me! just get off, i’m not coming to your room!”

even though you feel like your screaming the loud music seems to drown out the noise from anyone who could come and help you. even though the boy is obviously stronger than you, that doesn’t stop you from continuing to hit him in the hopes that his drunken state will take him off of you. your efforts are to no avail as his mouth connects with your neck, sucking harshly, making you scream out again. your head is thrashing, continuing to attempt to free yourself from his grasp.

“no! stop get off of me, please!” you shriek, tears beginning to stream down your cheeks. before you can realize what’s going on the boy is ripped from you and pinned up against the wall. you don’t even look to see what’s happening, just trying the catch your breath.

“she said no!” you immediately recognize the voice. george weasley. he fist connects with the boys jaw, almost knocking him unconscious as he’s still pushed against the wall. “what the fuck is wrong with you pucey! don’t you ever fucking touch her again!”

george still screaming as the boy you know realize is adrian pucey, is wailing in pain as george’s fists continue to meet his body. you don’t want to watch this anymore so you grab george’s hand before he can hit adrian again.

“stop, please.” it’s softer than you wanted it to come out but george still hears you. he drops adrian to the ground and takes a hold of your shoulders. even in the dark he’s examining your face for any sign of adrian’s abuse, his eyes land on the growing bruise on your neck and his fingers lightly trace over the mark. his other hands goes to your face, using his thumb to wipe the stream of tears.

“are you okay?” he asks quietly, eyes still trained on the hickey adrian unconsensually left on your neck. “i would’ve killed him.”

“why are you doing this, weasley?” you step back from him, crossing yours arms over your chest. “go on and tell everyone how you had to pull pucey off of me. how i was crying like a little baby. how helpless i was, i know that why you’re here.”

a flash a hurt crosses his face, he shakes his head. “is that really what you think of me?”

“of course it is, you’ve never given me a reason to think anything else,” you reply, wiping the remaining tears from your cheeks. “just leave weasley, i can’t take whatever’s going to come out of your mouth, not tonight okay? i could’ve handled this myself.”

“yeah you were doing a great job of handling it before i came it,” he scoffs and goes to walk away, kicking pucey one last time for good measure, but stops himself. “would you just stop arguing and follow me?”

you go to protest but figure you’re not in any mood to argue with him. he reaches his hand out to guide you through the sea of people but your arms stay folded against your chest. he rolls his eyes and leads you up the stairs and into a bedroom. you’d never been in his bedroom before. he goes into his closet to pull out a sweatshirt and tosses it your way.

“i’m not wearing this,” you tell him, throwing it back at him and he groans at your stubborn attitude. “why am i in your room, weasley?”

“does the word thank you not exist in your vocabulary?” he asks with a bitter tone. “i don’t care if you wear it, i’m leaving.”

he slams the door behind him and leaves you by yourself again. you look in the mirror on his wall at the disheveled sight looking back at you. your mascara collected under your eyes from your tears, the dark hickey from pucey on your cheek, bruises forming on your wrist and hip. you thought you had cried all the tears out before but seeing the damage he had done pulls sobs from your lips. you’re shaking at the memory of what happened, the thought of what could have happened. you collapse on george’s floor.

almost immediately the door swings open. you’re hoping maybe george told angie or katie and they were coming to take you home but it’s just george standing there. he never left his door, seeing pucey attack you like that made him fear that it might happen to you again. he quickly shuts the door behind him and crouches next to you as you struggle to catch your breath.

“hey, hey what’s going on you were fine a few second ago,” he tries to read your face but it’s hidden in your hands. “look at me, y/n, please.”

you lift your face to look him in the eyes. your puffy eyes and red cheeks make his heart sink. this is the first time he’s looked at you and felt something other than utter annoyance. you look so sad.

“i-i’m so s-scared,” you stutter through your speech. “if you hadn’t come he could’ve, it would have turned into -”

“don’t talk like that,” he begs you, still staying a bit of a distance from you. “i was there, i stopped it. you’re safe now.”

once you calm down he pleads for you to lay down and get some rest. you finally take the sweatshirt from him and wrap it around your body. he leans down to crouch in front of you, your eyes still welled with tears. he pats your head and goes to leave. in reality he would be posted outside the door for the rest of the night, but he’d never tell you that. As he shuts off the lights and opens the door, you squeak out a plea, “can you stay? please.”

george hesitates, he knows showing any kind of compassion for you in this moment will inevitably put a rift in your strict enemies only relationship. the one he’s been so set on keeping since he started developing feelings for you last semester. the only way he could keep you close while also concealing his feelings was to pick those fights with you every weekend. this would change everything.

however, seeing you curled up in his bed, shaking under his blankets, your eyes wide with fear broke something in him. he let out a deep sigh before closing his door again and locking it behind him. he stands in place for a minute, unsure of what to do from here.

“george,” you call out, voice cracking. you hadn’t called him by his first name in months. “thank you.”

“you haven’t called me george in a while.”

“shut up, weasley,” you immediately reply, making george chuckle. he decides to sit on the edge of his bad facing you, watching you continue to shake as sporadic sobs come from your frail frame. it’s breaking his heart. He eventually comes up to lay beside you, careful not to touch you. partly due to the fact that he knows you’re probably traumatised by pucey’s attack on you and also partly due to him knowing he may not be able to control himself from taking you in arms until you stop your terrible shaking.

it wasn’t george that first moved closer, it was you. you weren’t sure if it was the fact that he just saved you from a potentially life shattering situation or the fact that his room felt like subzero but you wanted to be close to him.

“why is your room so cold?” you ask with a shiver. “i feel like i’m in the arctic.”

“don’t be such a baby it’s not that cold,” he scoffs, giving you the same tone he always has. something in you is disappointed, partly hoping that maybe this changed something. maybe you were overthinking him being so doting on you tonight. of course things wouldn’t be different. why would you want them to be? what he did tonight he would do for any girl in thai party. while you don’t get to see that side of him, angie and katie have always talked about how protective he is, you just never thought it would extend to you.

“why’d you help me?” you ask, staring at him dead in the eyes. his breath hitches, he’s not sure why. he would do it for anyone, no questions asked. he’s never been the guy to look the other way when a girl is hurting, but what was he doing all of this for you. surely he wouldn’t bring just anyone up to his room, he wouldn’t stay if they asked.

“i wasn’t going to let pucey hurt you like that, i wouldn’t let him do it to anyone,” he replies, hoping you’ll be off the topic from now on.

“you would’ve killed him if i hadn’t stopped you.” george thinks back to the moment. how angelina had pleaded for him to find you after you’d been gone for so long. how he heard your cries over the music, you screaming no. how pucey had himself attached to you and the rage bubbled over in him.

“would you come off of it?” he asked sternly, fearing if this conversation moved any further he would be confessing that he’s never actually hated you. “i forgot how annoying you were for a second there, i’m getting out of here.”

your heart sinks at his words. you were already in shambles and he decided to be his same old asshole self. it hurt. you immediately sat up and watched as he grasped the door handle but didn’t turn it.

“classic, something gets hard and you’re running away,” you spit at him. you needed someone there, you needed him there, and he was running off. “go on weasley, be the little bitch you are, run off and tell everyone how big bad george weasley beat up pucey just to leave me up in your room where he could for sure do it again.”

“you just love running that fucking mouth of yours don’t you?” george snaps, his face beginning to heat up. this is always how it starts. his tone is playfully arrogant until it switches completely. “you think i would just leave you in here where anyone could come in? are you really that stupid? i would’ve staid outside the fucking door all night if that’s what it took for you to sleep after ehat happened, i just can’t be in this fucking room with you.”

you roll your eyes at how dramatic he is. as if staying in a room with you for one night would kill him. in his mind, however, it might. seeing you curled up in his bed, in his clothes, begging for him to stay, it’s all too much for him to handle.

“yeah sure you would. you wouldn’t go chasing after your brother the second he called that some girl was asking for you. this is all for show, you’re trying to make me seem like the one you can’t coexist with you,” you shout. “then everyone can blame me for this stupid fucking fight we’ve been having for an entire year. you can be the innocent one, that’s it isn’t it?”

george can’t believe how blind you are. how you’ve failed to notice that every time you get up in his face to yell at him he loses his breath. that you can’t see that teasing you is his only way to keep you coming back to pike. that he almost killed pucey because he likes you. he so painfully likes you.

“you’re an idiot you know that?” he yells, taking his hand off the doorknob. “seriously how dumb can you be? you really think i’m doing all of this for my image?”

“then answer my fucking question, weasley,” you spit at him, becoming angrier every minute that he won’t admit his own obsession with how everyone perceives him. “why. are. you. helping. me.”

every word comes out dripping with the venom of your rage. getting george to admit he’s a self centered, self serving asshole will give you all the evidence you need to show katie and angie that this feud is his fault, not yours. he begins to pace around the room, hands going to his hair as he looks deep in thought. your eyes never leave him, watching as he slowly unwinds in front of you. it’s happening, he’s going to admit it.

“you want to know why? you really want to know why i’m doing all this? why i dedicate my fucking saturday nights to fighting with you? that’s what you really want?”

“that’s what i asked isn’t it?”

“because i fucking like you, okay?” he shouts, making your heart stop. your jaw is practically on the floor, this is not the confession you were expecting. his face softens along with his tone, “i like you.”

he’s quiet, almost inaudible over the muffled bass of the music coming from downstairs. you face hasn’t changed, your brain is empty. your completely unable to move. you begin to shake your head after a minute, repeating the words ‘no’ and ‘you’re lying.’

“fuck this,” george finally speaks up, going back to reach for the door. “have a nice life, y/n, don’t bother coming back here after tonight.”

“george stop!” you yell which makes him stop in his tracks. his first name again. it makes his heart ache. he can’t get involved, he can’t fall into your trap. he continues to make his way to get as far from you as he possibly can. “george i mean it! stop running away from me.”

you’re now off the bed, following close behind him. you’re swimming in his sweatshirt, the material falling just below your knees. you don’t know why you suddenly have the urge to touch him, to be with him but it’s there. him threatening you to never come back made your chest tighten, not because you’ll be missing parties, but you’ll be missing him. memories of your screaming matches flood your brain, the absolute high you’re on as you’re staring up at him after shouting something offensive his way. the way you can never seem to catch your breath when he’s around you. the fact that you continue coming back, knowing he’s going to hurt your feelings in some way or another, because it means you’ll be with him. as toxic and backwards as it seems, you’ve never hated george. you were utterly obsessed with him. when you finally reach him, grabbing his hand to stop him fleeing, his whole body snaps to turn toward you. he looks wild.

“what could you possibly have to say to me?” he shouts, making you step back. his words are fueled by anger and hatred. when he sees you back away from him, he immediately regrets his tone. “come to gloat? to make fun of me? save it, y/n. i don’t want to hear it.”

you don’t say a word. on the crowded staircase of your drunk classmates you do the last thing you could have ever imagined doing with george weasley. you kiss him.

he’s completely taken aback, freezing in his place as soon as he feels your soft lips against his. one hand is wrapped around the back of his neck and the other is holding his cheek. eventually, reality hits the boy and he’s pulling you into him by your hips. you wince in pain from the tender bruise aching on your hip from pucey’s hands and george immediately pulls away to see if you’re alright.

“god, i’m sorry, i’m so sorry. i didn’t realize he hurt you so bad,” he starts to ramble on, keeping his hands off of you to keep from hurting you. “y/n, i’m — i just — i don’t know what to say.”

your hand is still on his face, your thumb stroking over his cheek bone. you can’t believe you had just kissed the boy you had sworn to hate for the rest of your life. pulling your hands away from your body you take a hold of his that are hovering inches away from your hips. you move they to lay against your waist and move yours to return to his face. you lean yourself back up toward him again, capturing his lips for the second time tonight. he didn’t hesitate this time, pulling you closer to him.

as soon as you pull away from each other, you’re soon walking back to his room hand in hand. he closes the door and flicks on the lights. being with him now feels astronomically different. the tension that once plagued any room you two shared has melted away.

“i didn’t want to pressure you into doing that,” he says softly, his palm resting on your cheek as the two of you sit only inches from each other on his bed. “especially after what pucey did to you, i’m sorry. i shouldn’t have been so harsh.”

you stop him from spiraling any further into a pit of blame. “i feel safe with you georgie, i wouldn’t have stayed in here with you, kissed you, if i didn’t. you know i’d be the last to admit this, but you saved me, i owe you one.”

a small smile tugs on his lips. he can’t help but feel his heart hammering against his ribs like it’s going a thousand miles and hour. “consider the debt repaid,” he replies, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. “i don’t think i would’ve ever been able to face you after tonight if you hadn’t come running after me.”

your smile mirrors his, unable to contain the butterflies in the pit of your stomach. the two of you just stare at each other for a while, trying to imprint this moment in your memory forever.

“can i kiss you again?” he asks, his lips so close that you can feel his breath against yours. you nod against his forehead, silently begging to feel his warmth again.

kissing george is like nothing you’d ever felt before. you spent your entire life kissing boys that meant nothing to you, this feels like home. his tongue slips into your mouth, exploring every inch of you, memorising how you feel as if you’ll be stolen from him at any second. he’s thought of this exact moment for months, every time you fought, every time he spoke to you, he imagined what it would feel like to have you like this.

“still feels like a tundra in here,” you tell him after you pull away. he takes you by your good wrist and urges you to lay next to him, his arms wrapping tightly around your body wishing he would never have to let go.

“better?”

“better.” you reply, letting you hand rest against his chest, feeling his heart beat. “this is not how i imagined this night going.”

“neither,” he says, running his fingers up and down your side. “never thought i’d get to hold you like this.”

your cheeks heat up, not from your usual rage but from the sudden rush on nerves. you don’t know how to act around him when you’re not about to beat his face in. he gently pulls your face from where it’s hiding in his chest to admire you. he presses his lips softly against yours, then moves to either cheek, then to your forehead.

“what happens now?” you ask, suddenly hit with the realization that you can’t go on with the feud that’s been bubbling between the two of you for the past year. you’ll have to tell your friends that you don’t hate each other anymore, that you did the unthinkable and kissed george weasley.

“i don’t care,” he says simply. “we could continue fighting until my dying breath, i just don’t want to be without you. ever.”

“what a little sap-fest you’ve become,” you tease holding yourself up on your elbows to get a good look at the boy. “who knew the george weasley could be so sentimental.”

“oh shut up,” he nudges your shoulder, pulling his arms from around you to rest behind his head. “you’re the one who kissed me, y/n, you started this.”

you let out a giggle, resting your head against his chest. you talk for hours about everything and nothing at all. eventually you hear the music die from downstairs, your phone buzzing with texts from angie and katie worried sick about where you ran off to. you tell them you’re fine and you’ll explain tomorrow. it’s an unspoken assumption that after all these months of fighting, you’ll be sleeping in george’s bed, cuddled up to him like you have been for the last few hours. you turn from your phone to see him stripping his shirt from his body, going to pull his khakis from his body and your heart stops.

“george i-” you start, not being able to form a coherent sentence. “i’m sorry but i can’t do anything like that, not tonight, not after what happened.”

his face turns down in worry, swiftly pulling a pair of sweats from his drawer to cover his bare legs. “oh my god, no y/n that’s not where i thought this was going at all. i usually sleep without a shirt on but it that makes you uncomfortable i can put one on. i’m so sorry i wasn’t even thinking.”

you sigh in relief, of course he wasn’t going to ask you to do anything like that after what he saw. you can’t believe you assumed that of him.

“no, no i’m sorry i know you would never,” you reply, rubbing your face between your palms. “i’m just on edge.”

he sits next to you, already holding a pair of boxers for you to wear and places them in front of you. he runs his hands up your arms. “don’t apologize to me, you’re allowed to be on edge after that. i should’ve been more conscious of that. i can go to the bathroom while you change if you want, unless you want to stay in your jeans.”

you shake your head, pulling the denim off your legs and replacing them with george’s boxers. you’re safe with him, you remind yourself.

“thank you, george,” you say quietly. “for everything.”

“i’d do it again, a hundred times over if i had to,” he tells you, pulling you into his arms to hold you. “do you want to talk about it?”

you shake your head no and he nods. he lays the two of you back and pulls his blankets other you. your head lays against his bare chest, feeling the most secure you have in your life. george’s breath eventually steadies as he slips into a deep sleep. it’s the easiest he’s ever been able to fall asleep, feeling completely comfortable with you in his arms. you fall asleep soon after him, the arms of george weasley and the walls of pi kappa alpha lulling you into the sweetest dreams.

#george weasley #george weasley imagine #frat boy george weasley #george weasley modern #weasley twins #weasley twins imagine #george weasley x reader #george weasley x you #harry potter imagine

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freaky-writer-writes · 3 years

Text

TBHK x reader | Mitsuba headcanons

Character: Mitsuba Sousuke

Fandom: TBHK

Pronouns: They/them // Gender neutral

Warnings: Mentions of death, slight angst (?), manga spoilers

A/N: I recently rewatched TBHK with my friendo because I finished reading the last chapter and cannot wait for the next chapter/season 2 eek /pos. Anyways I’m like really obsessed with Mitsuba? He’s a precious bby like sjdhbe. I’m gay for him Istg /hj.

Summary: What dating Mitsuba Sousuke would be like, and how did you handle his death, and confessing!!

• Ah yes

• Here we go with the angst~

• I would say that you and Mitsuba were really close, and still are!

• He would let you hold his camera and sometimes take pictures ACKDH

• You’re the only person he’s actually being nice to and not going full attack/tsundere mode

• Of course, he does that sometimes but you know that he don’t mean it

• Actually, you think it’s quite cute!

• Literally everytime you flirt with him, he would try to insult you and be a fucking tsundere aaa

.........

......

• He seemed like a very nice guy the first time you met him

• He’s the one who asked you to be friends (of course)

• When both of you slowly got closer and closer, he slowly also showed his real self

• Aka bullying you, insulting, etc.

• Though you knew why

• He have told you before why he has to act more nicely

• You thought it was understandable, and quite sad

• So whenever he insulted you, you really didn’t get too much thought into it

• Then the winter came

• Oh boy

// Manga spoilers starts here, and angst!! //

• It was his mother’s birthday

• When he told you at school, you wanted him to give her some flowers you bought for her

• You and his mother were actually close, despite you being his only (possibly?) first best friend

“Sure, I’m also gonna make curry, she loves it.. Maybe I can put the flowers in a vase on the table for decoration, thanks, (Y/N).”

“Of course! You know how to make curry right? You don’t need my help?”

“I’ve made curry before, I don’t need help, it’s gonna be fine.”

• That was the biggest cap ever

• Anyways

• I actually cried at that chapter-

• You were in call with him when he was making curry

• It seemed like he did fine

• You just had to remind him of a few things

• “Where’s the potato’s?”

• “Agh, crap I forgot them. Should I go out to buy some? The grocery store is not that far away.”

• “It’s fine without it, there’s no need. Besides, it’s cold outside and dark.”

• “It’s her birthday, I have to do it. I’ll call you back when I get home”

• “No, wait-“

• Before you knew it, it all ended

• You believed in him, maybe he would be fine

• Right?

• Though, you never received a call from him after that

• But when his mother called you, telling you about the news, you broke down

• You were devastated, and sad and frustrated

• Only if you could have done better

• Only if you were there to stop him instead of just telling him through a stupid call

• “You dumb dumb, everything just for the stupid potato’s...”

//Manga spoilers and angst end!!//

............

.......

• After a few months has passed, there was a new rumor going around saying a voice of a boy would grab your hands by the entrance of the school asking “Do you remember me?”

• You didn’t really think much about it, considering being rumors spreading around the school like everyday

• But when you arrived at the school enterance to place your shoes, there it was

• You saw a shadowy figure grabbing your arm and saying the following words: “Hey, do you remember me?”

• You were panicking, you shut the locker up and pushed the figure away from you (just pretend you can touch Mitsuba even though he’s a ghost JAHDBE)

• Then you saw a slightly tall boy, pink hair, feminine look, with a school uniform

• “The hell?!..” You realized who it was, you walked slowly towards the boy to get a closer look

• “M...Mitsuba?!” You said in relief and jumped on top of him, so happy to see him

• “Hey!! I get it I’m a cute little ghost but that doesn’t give you permission to touch me, you pervert!”

• “It really is you! Dear god, aren’t you dead?!!” Not caring about what he said, you looked at him in the eyes with tears of happiness streaming down your cheeks

• “I am dead, idiot. Can you get off me now? You’re going to make my clothes wet.” He exclaimed, rudely

• You nodded as you wiped off your tears

• After everything got settled and explained, you thought it was nice to have your best friend back

• You loved him a lot, he was so dear to your heart

• By loved him, you still do

• You both hanged out a lot again

• He would sometimes join your classes and keep you entertained or just insult you for whatever god knows

• Though you liked that he would be with you

• It was nice being with your ghost friend again

• You were so goddamn happy Istg

• Anyhow, after a few months, you decided to confess

• It was dumb asking someone like him out, besides, he’s a ghost

• You knew it would never work, considering him being a ghost

• But it would never hurt to try though, right?

• But little did you know, Mitsuba actually also has a crush on you

• He's just.... Not the type to show it correctly kind of-

• You notice that he blush a lot whenever he's around you, but didn't really give in too much thought to it

• He never had the urge to confess unlike you, he was too scared and nervous

• He got so suprised and happy when you asked him though, but he of course still acted like a tsundere

• You met him in the usual place, the rooftop after school

• Both just chatted and chilling iykyk

When you suddenly go "Hey.. Uhm... Mitsuba? I was meaning to tell you something."

"What is it now, (Y/N)?"

"I don't know how to put it but... I like you, like a lot."

"Of course you do, I mean who wouldn't like an adorable cute ghost like me?"

"No- I'm serious. I like LIKE you."

*A moment of silence then he started harassing you about it for a moment*

"Hah. Anyways, that's... Very unfortunate. Yeah, yeah... I like you too I guess, it's nothing much.."

• Your heart go brrr

• Anyways, you got so happy and started hopping around and hugging him

• "H-Hey!! Just because I said that doesn't mean you can touch me, you pervert!"

• You know he likes it depending on the facial expression ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

• Overall, you both are the cutest couple!!!

• No one really knew about it except Yashiro, Kou and Hanako (Of course)

• I mean, no one could really understand except them-

• Yashiro be like "All these ghosts, and I still can't get a boo-"

• AHAHS ANYWAYS

• Y'all would probably wait a little for kisses until you both get comfortable

• BUT when you do kiss, it's so cute and wholesome

• They're pretty short, wouldn't go THAT far

• Short but passionate if you're feeling up to it though hehehsjbe

• It's pretty much just a peck on the lips, although you COULD get into a make out session but that's rare-

• He would act like a tsundere after kisses

• "Hahaha!!! I know you just fell in love with me because of my cuteness, and now you just want to attack me like this! You big pervert!"

• But he adores the kisses on the inside

• It warms his heart

• ALSO YOU GUYS CUDDLE LIKE A LOT

• Literally wherever no one can see both of you

• Just cuddle

• He's the smol spoon obviously

• He likes being held by you even though he's not good at showing it

• He's the big spoon though if you're feeling down or something like that

• He doesn't mind being the big one either, it just kinda fits him more yk?

• Anyways,, I will probably make a part 2 of this because this is getting WAY too long ^^;

#TBHK #Toilet bound hanako kun #TBHK x reader #TBHK fanfiction #Mitsuba sousuke #Mitsuba sousuke x reader #Mitsuba x reader #Sousuke x reader #Mitsuba Sousuke fanfiction #Fanfiction #Slight angst #Fluff

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shreddedparchment · 4 years

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A World of Our Own Pt.06

Broken Hearts

09/20/2020

Pairing: Bucky x Reader Word Count: 6,012

Warnings: violence, blood, suggestive themes, language

A/N: I’ve been so excited for this chapter for so long. Probably just one or two more chapters after this. I hope you enjoy it! If you happen to reblog, thank you so much for helping me spread my work. xoxo

Ryan’s chuckle is infectious, and you can’t help but laugh along with him as he leans over to stoke the flames of your campfire.

It’s warm. Cozy by the roaring ocean waves that bring with it a cool briny breeze.

“Don’t laugh at me. It was very traumatizing.” Ryan demands, putting the large stick he’s been using to poke the fire aside before leaning back against new palm logs that he and Bucky had chopped for seating.

Even though you’re meant to sit on them, all of you seem to prefer to sit on blankets you’d stitched together from clothing too worn to use anymore.

“I feel bad for the shark. It has probably never seen a naked man before in its life and you’re out here dangling your bits all over its face.” You tease, shaking your head as if you really disapprove of him.

“Wha-?!” Ryan gasps, mouth wide open as he struggles to find a comeback.

“I was mindin’-” he takes a lengthy pause. “-mah own business-”

He places his hand on his chest as he pauses again, the wheels in his brain working quickly to come up with his excuse.

“-when this very large an’ scary fish comes out of the depths an’ charges me. I was the one scrambling ta get back ta shore. I was the one who was given a heart attack. Not the bloody shark!”

“Well, why were you swimming so far out?” You ask him, chuckling again and feeling your cheeks warm with embarrassment at the memory of watching him run out of the water screaming at the top of his lungs, “Shark! Shark! Shark!” completely naked.

You’re not ashamed to say that there was nothing there that wasn’t worth looking at, but it was only an afterthought that you now think of as opposed to noticing in the moment.

You’d turned around instantly and gasped, completely confused as to why he was running towards you naked until you’d heard what he was saying.

“Should I start the fish?” Ryan asks, reaching for the folded leaves beside him where you’d put the cleaned fish when the sun had still been out.

It’s very obvious that Ryan isn’t answering your question.

Both you and Bucky have been watching him closely over the past month, since he’d first shown up completely wet, wondering where it is that he goes when he swims.

It wouldn’t make you so suspicious if he weren’t randomly disappearing when he takes these swims. He waits until you and Bucky are busy, distracted, then wanders off without a word.

Bucky has made you swear not to follow him, afraid of what Ryan might be capable of if he is up to something and is suddenly caught.

Problem is Bucky also refuses to leave you alone anymore, so he doesn’t get to tail Ryan either.

Until Ryan chooses to answer your question, neither of you will ever know where he goes.

“Sure.” You nod, then reach to place the metal sheet that Bucky had made for cooking food without having to deal with embers and ash on the fish.

Ryan separates each fish into one leaf on its own then places them on the thin sheet so that they might bake.

The two of you work in silence for a bit, sitting across the fire from each other, you steal glances at him, and he returns each look. He smiles, his expression kind and so trustworthy that you think in moments like these that you and Bucky might be wrong about him.

“Ryan?” You begin, hesitant.

He smiles to encourage you.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.” He nods, smile vanishing as his face becomes a little more serious. Confused as to why you think you have to ask.

“Why don’t you talk about your son?” You wonder, now having said the words your mouth keeps going. “You drop this bomb and then never mention him again. I wasn’t sure whether you didn’t want to talk about him, so I never asked. If you’d prefer not to, I understand. There are things I’d rather not talk about to. Everyone is entitled to their secrets. I just—a kid is such a big part of who you are, right? Not the only part of you, obviously but he’s your son. You must think about him all the time.

“Who did you leave him with? He must miss you so much. I’m so sorry that you’re stuck here, with us, instead of home with your boy.” You sigh, and your breath shudders.

You smile at him awkwardly, realizing you’ve rambled on nervously.

“Sorry.” You offer, “I kinda just go off when I’m nervous.”

Ryan’s face is the picture of relaxation, however. He’s not smiling, but he doesn’t look upset that you’ve asked.

“I’m sorry.” He shakes his head and you’re certain that he’s going to tell you he doesn’t want to talk about it, but then… “To be perfectly honest, I wasn’t really sure that you or Bucky cared to know about Conor.”

“His name is Conor?” You gasp, smiling already like an idiot as you start to imagine a mini version of Ryan. Sandy blonde hair, lovely eyes, light skin.

“Aye, wee tyke is only five but when he talks to you, he sounds much older.” Finally, he smiles, the admiration of a father pouring out of him as he thinks about his little boy.

“Does he look like you or his mother?” You wonder, eager for details now that he’s talking.

“He looks like his mother. Almost my exact opposite. Dark hair and skin. Perhaps a bit lighter than his mother but he’s her spittin’ image. Dark eyes too. Just as beautiful.” Ryan says, a bit more forlorn than before.

Your own smile falters, wondering if maybe he and Conor’s mother are no longer together? Jeez, you really hope that he isn’t still married and flirting with you the way he has been. Not that you blame him being stuck on an island with no other women, but still.

Ryan seems like the type of man to devote himself completely.

“Is she-?” You offer, just to see if he’d like to open up.

He meets your gaze, holding it for a long moment before he tilts his head a little as he makes his choice quickly.

“Grace died. Just after giving birth to Conor. Conor almost went with her, but he pulled through and we have made a go of it, I think.” He gives you another smile. “I think he’s happy. Or was, before all this.”

“I’m so sorry, Ryan. I’m sure Conor loves and appreciates you very much.” His story is tragic, and your heart truly breaks for him.

“Thank you. Gettin’ back to him is the only thing that matters now.” He nods, looking more at ease. “It feels good to talk about them if I’m honest. I havin’ really spoken about it ta anyone other than mah parents. That’s who Conor is with, by the way. You were wonderin’ earlier.”

“You can always talk to me. About anything.” You assure him.

His smile grows wider and any sorrow left in his eyes vanishes as he looks down at the cooking fish before giving his head a minute shake.

“What?” You ask, your own voice shaking with the hint of laughter at the amused expression on his face.

“I was just thinkin’ about how unfortunate it is that you’re taken now. You would have made him a proper step-mom maybe.” His bold words stun you.

At a loss for what to say, you can only seem to focus on the way your neck begins to burn.

Ryan clearly enjoys watching you squirm for the two second that he has to do so before Bucky’s voice breaks the tension.

“Keep that up and you’ll lose your room.” Bucky warns, a playful note in his voice but really you can hear how serious he is.

“I just got it.” Ryan protests, looking towards the hut down the beach.

Bucky worked so hard on the build, elevated and sturdy with each brick placed with care and somewhat expert precision. The gambrel roof, which Bucky chose so that you could use the extra space to hang clothes and food away from where animals might find them, is tall and thatched with the fronds you’d worked so hard to tear and resew to keep the hut safe from the elements.

The hut is split in two down the center with two entrances. When you face the hut, the left side of it is taken by Ryan, a flight of bamboo stairs leading up to the curtained entrance. The right side belongs to you and Bucky.

“Stop flirting with my girl then, and I’ll let you keep it.” Bucky threatens, this time it’s clear he means it.

Ryan holds up his hands in defeat as you turn to devour you freshly bathed Bucky. In jeans and a t-shirt, he looks almost as if he’s ready to begin his day but instead of being productive he drops his dirty clothes into the handmade basket you’d woven with the extra strips of palm fronds then moves towards you. He takes hold of your face, tilting it back so that you might look up at him.

He leans down to look at you, smiling pleasantly.

“Hi.” He tells you, voice deep and penetrating.

“Hi.” You reply. “You smell good.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He leans down and kisses you, lips so sweet and fresh you could really just do this all night. He holds it for a few moments before he begins pushing you to scoot forward.

You move as he wants you to, looking back at him as he sits himself behind you, legs spread wide before he pulls you back to sit between his legs which he props up on either side of you. His arms wrap around your stomach and while your happiness quadruples with this unyielding affection he seems to shower on you lately, you can’t help but notice the way Ryan looks away, a small twinge of bitterness in his expression.

It’s just the island. You tell yourself, certain that if you all weren’t stuck here, you wouldn’t be so lucky as to hold the attention of two very beautiful men.

Although you’re certain, you can’t help but wonder if Ryan really does like you. Is it possible?

~~~~~~~~~~

Time doesn’t stop. Not for you stuck on this island. Not for Bucky, torn from the promise of a new life. Not for Ryan who misses his son and is losing more and more time with him. With time is taken all hope that you’ll ever be rescued but the three of you refuse to speak the words aloud.

In silence, there is the illusion of hope and you cannot afford to let it go.

Days roll into weeks and the three of you try to keep your spirits up. It’s easier for you and Bucky, you assume. Finally, being with him has changed very little and so much all at once.

The biggest change is your sleeping arrangements. The hut has been built for a while now. Two months it feels like, going on three. Six months going on seven since you three have been trapped here.

With the hut came privacy, the adobe wall that splits it in two gives you and Bucky the luxury of cuddling as you used to in the fuselage without the worries of being accidentally disturbed.

Because of this, in the morning Bucky’s warm kisses trail along your cheeks, your neck, onto your collarbone raising tingles in all the right places before he finds his way up to your lips.

His arms wrap themselves around you as hey lays himself over you and you raise your leg to hold him close.

“Good morning.” He whispers and your eyes open, devouring the beautiful image of him. Clean and dry. Not a drop of sweat on his perfect skin whereas your own is dewy and you’re in need of a morning swim.

“Good morning.” You whisper, your body burning for him.

It doesn’t help that you can feel him pressed against your thighs, stiff and awake with the morning.

With your lips suddenly dry, you run your tongue along them, wetting them as your breath hitches when he rolls his hips from side to side as he adjusts himself over you.

You know that he doesn’t mean it to make your blood boil, but it does and you snake your hands down to his waist before your fingers worm their way underneath his t-shirt and gently tickle his smooth skin.

“What are you doing?” He asks you, a smile in his voice as he raises an eyebrow but hold you closer.

“I don’t know.” You shrug, licking your lips again.

He huffs a laugh, cool air raising goosebumps along your neck.

“I think you know.” He counters, amused by your attempt to seduce him.

“Then why ask?” You reach down, sliding your hand down underneath the waistband of his underwear, breath catching in your throat at the swell of his bum.

“Y/N,” He pleads, a small hint of a chastising tone to his words. “We can’t.”

“But I want to.” You whimper, tired of begging. It’s been so long since the two of you have been together. For what feels like forever now.

“So, do I, kitten. Trust me.” He wiggles his hips, probably just trying to get comfortable but he inadvertently eggs you on, proves his point by pressing his erection against you—accidentally of course.

“Then…” You try it even though you know he’ll say no. Even though this argument has failed so many times. “…I can just-I’ll give you something and you don’t have to give me anything back.”

“I could never do that.” He argues, his face contorting a bit more. The hints of anger rising.

“Then we can just stop there, Bucky. We’ve got control, don’t we? I wanna suck your co-”

“Jesus, Y/N.” Bucky rolls off of you, sitting at the edge of the low bed with his elbows on his knees as he looks across the hut to the opposite wall, his breathing a little heavy.

You sit up, blinking away the tears of rejection because you know he doesn’t mean it in that way. You know what his worry is because it’s you’re worry too.

“I’m sorry.” You move up behind him, hugging him around his chest and resting your cheek against his solid back.

The rapid rate of his heart tells you how much he wants you even if he can’t see to let himself show it. You take solace in that as you splay your hands on his chest, breathing in the scent of the coconut oil you’d infused into the handmade soap you’d worked on several weeks ago.

“I…you know that we can’t.” He frets, still upset.

“I do.” You shake your head. “I’m just-”

He hears the sob trapped in your throat and he turns so quickly you nearly fall over but he’s there, holding you tight against his chest, hands caressing the back of your head as the other wraps around your shoulders.

“I want you, kitten. Believe me. I do. If I could be sure that we wouldn’t mess up…You were the one that set this boundary.” He reminds you, pulling back to look at you as shame overcomes you.

He’s right of course. You’d told him that you didn’t want to sleep with him until the two of you could be sure that you wouldn’t get pregnant. Not here. Not on this island. There was too much that could go wrong. Too much danger for a baby, not to mention birthing one here with no doctors in case something went wrong.

No, you couldn’t do it and so you’d both agreed.

But…

“I didn’t think we’d still be here.” You huff, burying your face into his chest to hide your embarrassment.

Bucky breathes a little more lightly, almost laughing again at the shift. This conversation has gone from up to down and right back up.

“I know, babe.” He whispers, resting his chin on your head as he strokes your back with both hands. “To be honest, my patience is also wearing thin.”

You pull back quickly, searching to get a look at his eyes to see if he might be lying. He isn’t and it does make you feel better that you aren’t the only one struggling with this abstinence.

“I don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to wait.” He confesses.

“Me neither.” You sigh. “But you already knew that.”

His face breaks into a smile and you’re calm again, happy to see that beautiful expression on his handsome face. Silver blue eyes all crinkled at the corners.

You reach up to touch his hair, giving it a decent appraisal. “You need another cut.”

“I think we should go shorter this time.” He nods.

“Like a little higher than your chin?” You touch the spot, but Bucky shakes his head.

“No, I mean, short.”

You gasp. “Bucky, I don’t think I trust myself to do that.”

“I trust you.” He counters but you shake your head.

Nope. You’re not going to risk butchering his lovely locks.

“I won’t do it, Barnes.” You frown.

“Stubborn ass.” He glowers.

“Fuck you.” You retort.

“Not yet.” He teases.

“I hate you!” You spit at him, because you can already see the laugh coming at that unfair statement and you shove away from him, moving towards the clothes you’ve got packed in one of the salvaged suitcases to pull out your favorite pair of jean shorts and a plain red t-shirt.

He’s laughing as you dress and doesn’t stop when you’re gone.

Making your way down to the campfire, you search for Ryan, half expecting to find him cooking fish for breakfast but he’s nowhere to be found.

As Bucky joins you, dressed in the same t-shirt with his own favorite pair of jeans on, you place your hands on your hips and look towards the stretch of water where the cockpit had once been visible.

It seems to have sunk to the floor now that the tide has risen and fallen so many times, taking the plane with it.

“What’s the matter?” Bucky wonders, lifting his foot onto the trough he’s been mixing more clay in again, working on something secret that he refuses to let you in on just yet.

“I’ll tell you when it’s relevant. Right now, it’s just a precaution. Trust me, okay? If I need to bring it up, I will.” Then he’d gone back to lining the outside of the hut with metal sheets from the plane before sealing them over with clay.

He laces up his boot but watches you as he works.

“He’s gone again.” You shake your head.

“He hasn’t tried anything.” Bucky ponders. “If he was going to hurt us, he would have done it by now.”

“I know, it’s just…” You bite your lip.

“He is hiding something.” Bucky agrees, this conversation having played out so many times. “But I think he also wants some distance from us. We’re probably annoying to be around.”

“We’re not that bad anymore.” You argue.

“Oh yeah?” Bucky whispers, his lips suddenly at your ear.

He kisses it, slipping your lobe into his mouth as your eyes shut to the pleasure the gesture raises.

“You’re not making this any easier.” You sigh but turn to look at him and without hesitation pull him down to meet your lips with his own.

The kiss is a frenzy, heated and eager as your hands grope and cling as Bucky’s also press and pull against the flesh of your hips and ass leaving burning bruises behind.

Out here where you might get caught is the safest place to be this affectionate. Where you can’t take this any further than this passionate kiss.

“Do ya really have ta do that so early in the mornin’?” Ryan’s voice cuts in, interrupting just as you both intend.

Bucky pulls away first, letting the smack of your kiss echo before giving you one devilish grin then marching back to the trough.

“Sorry.” You turn to Ryan, hoping your expression is rightly chastised. “Fish?”

Ryan holds it up to indicate his catch then moves towards you to hand it over for cleaning.

You settle down beside him on your usual stump, pulling out your makeshift knives and gut the fish with the precision of someone who’s done this everyday for half a year. Ryan gets to building a new fire, gathering as much of the ash for you as he can for when you decide to make more soap.

While you work, you watch him, stealing glances at the subtle downturn to the corners of his lips.

The longer he works the more he seems to wallow.

Once the fish is settled over the fire, you turn in your spot to focus your attention on him.

“What?”

Slightly startled, he turns to you with wide eyes, all traces of the depression he’s been in gone.

“What?” He sounds confused.

“What’s the matter with you?” You clarify.

“Oh.” He sighs and shakes his head.

You know you can guess. “Conor?”

“Aye, Conor.” The sadness returns to his face and your heart gives a painful lurch for him.

He must miss his son so much.

“He’s probably startin’ school this month.” He laments, stoking the fire.

“It’s his first year?”

“Aye, I hope he isn’t scared.” Ryan hopes.

“I’m sure he’s just as brave as his dad.” You offer in comfort, giving Ryan as kind a smile as you can muster.

“We’ll get off this island, Ryan. Someone will come. Even if it’s by accident. Even if it’s years from now. You’ll be with Conor again.” You hope, because even though you want it to be a promise, you don’t know.

Ryan’s face contorts, agony ripping through him for one quick second before he meets your gaze and reaches out to take hold of your hand.

“I think…” Bucky begins from the trough, Ryan’s hand freezing mere inches from your own.

He takes it back and clears his throat, the look of pain vanishing from his handsome face before he looks to Bucky just as you do.

Bucky’s gaze is focused on the horizon, the ocean waves unnaturally gentle. It’s a beautiful day.

“What is it babe?” You call, trying to pull Bucky out of his thoughts.

He turns his furrowed brow back to the two of you, “I think we might have to move to the cave. Soon.”

“The cave?” You rise, glancing at the fish to make sure they’re not burning. “The one Ryan was in when he landed?”

Ryan sits back, a perplexed gaze fixed on Bucky.

“Yeah. Do you think you can show me where it is?”

“Why would ya need to go there?” Ryan reaches out to stoke the fire once again, pulling his gaze away from you both.

“Bucky?” You worry, moving towards him as he straightens up and wipes his hands clean to take your hand as you reach him.

“We won’t need to go there yet.” He assures you, wrapping his metal arm around your waist to pull you into his side. “It’s just a precaution.”

“A precaution against what?”

“It’s hurricane season. The hut is…I’m not exactly an architect. I’ve done what I can with what we have but that hut is not meant to withstand a hurricane. When it comes down to it, we might be able to take shelter in the fuselage if we have to but with the three of us, the cave might be a better option. How did you hold up in the caves during that first storm?” Bucky gestures to Ryan.

Ryan spares you both a glance before nodding. “There was minor flooding at the back jus’ before the exit by the jungle but otherwise it was dry and safe. It’s not a bad plan.”

“Then you’ll show me where it is?” Bucky insists.

“It’s not hard ta find, but sure. Tomorrow morning?” Ryan turns to him.

Bucky nods leaning down to press a kiss to your head.

The memory of that initial hurricane just after you’d crash landed here fills you with worry. What if you do have to go through another one and this one is worse? How likely is it that you’d die from a storm before you get rescued?

“Don’t worry, kitten. I’ll keep you safe.” Bucky whispers, reaching up to stroke your cheek with the back of his hand where there is no clay.

“I wish you didn’t have to shoulder so much.”

“Taking care of you is never too much.” Bucky smiles. “I kinda look forward to it actually.”

“Why?” You wonder, absolutely confused.

“Because I do. Don’t question it. Just accept it. You’re never getting rid of me.” He teases.

“Even when we’re rescued?” You turn to face him, wrapping your arms around his waist.

“Especially when we’re rescued.” He wiggles his eyebrows at you once, then starts to lean down towards you for a kiss.

“I’m going for a swim.” Ryan announces, breaking the little bubble you and Bucky are in.

Without ceremony, Ryan moves straight for water headed towards the crash site without even feigning a different direction.

This draws both yours and Bucky’s attention as both of you are well aware that Ryan has still been swimming out to the cabin, but he’s taken such great care to go at it in roundabout ways. While strange, you guess that he must be more upset about Conor than even you could tell.

Your mind replays the agonized look he’d given you before when you’d promised him that rescue would be coming. Maybe he could tell that it was only your hope?

“He misses Conor. He should be starting school soon.” You explain.

“Mm.” Bucky nods, accepting your explanation.

“If there were any photos, he would have found them already, wouldn’t he?” You wonder, curious to no end about your new friend.

Sure, you have suspicions, but after so much time spent with him, you’ve both accepted him as a part of your life here. Ryan has your trust. And though you know it was given reluctantly, Bucky’s too.

“Maybe he just can’t bear to give up. I know I wouldn’t.” Bucky looks down at you, giving you a squeeze.

“If you had a son?” You ask.

“I’m not opposed to the idea.” Bucky stuns you, pulling you to look at him with his words to see how serious he might be about it. “With you. When the time is right.”

Your heart is pounding. Your mind is reeling. Bucky wants to have kids with you?

“You promise?” You gasp, so shocked your voice is mostly air.

“I love you.”

You smile, loving the words that spill from his lips.

“You do?”

Bucky smiles then chuckles, reaching up to squeeze the back of your neck, and you know that he’s telling you the truth.

~~~~~~~~~~

“You smell good.” Bucky sighs, holding the blanket open for you as you take off your shoes and slip into the bed and nestle into Bucky’s arms. “Good bath?”

You can hear the exhaustion in his voice. He’s been working so hard to fortify the hut for smaller storms that might hit.

“Yes.” You hug him, cuddling in against his side as he drapes the blanket over you.

“You’re wearing your shorts?” He checks, and he’s right.

You’ve chosen to sleep in your second set of shorts, dark gray cloth instead of jeans and your tattered blue floral dress.

Because you don’t answer, Bucky adjusts to look down at you, forcing himself awake.

“Kitten?”

“I’m just…I want to be ready if we need to go short notice.” You confess, shutting your eyes and refusing to look at him. You don’t want him to see the fear.

“Ready for what?”

“Anything. Hurricanes.” You admit and wish you could throw away this fear.

You’re almost expecting Bucky to chastise you for your worrying but instead he settles into the plane cushion bed again and cuddles you closer.

“That’s smart.” He approves. “But we won’t have anywhere to run until tomorrow morning. Ryan has to show us the cave first.”

“Can I come?” You’re already drifting off, voice weak and slurring.

Bucky’s is the same, both of you exhausted from the day’s work.

“You kidding? I’m not letting you outta my sight.” He mumbles, his breathing getting heavier.

You almost smile but sleep takes you and your mind is overcome with dreams of thunderous clouds.

~~~~~~~~~~

For a moment Bucky isn’t sure what he’s hearing. He can feel you stirring to the sound in his arms and he tries to hold you tighter.

You were so scared before, the look of terror in your eyes at the prospect of being caught in a storm worse than the one you weathered before.

He wants to make sure you feel safe and secure with him. He’ll protect you from weather and predator, whether that’s animal or stupid fucking Ryan.

You tug away from him hard though and the sound…a humming…no, a loud thumping. It’s hard to place as he tries to both understand the sound and also figure out why you’re no longer lying beside him.

“Y/N?” He searches, sleepily pushing himself onto one elbow as he hears you bolt for the door.

Suddenly he’s wide awake and he can hear you rounding the hut to the other set of stairs on the other side.

He pulls his boots on quickly, sliding his feet in and lacing them with nimble fingers loosely.

“He’s gone!” You cry out, the pure panic in your voice as the sound overhead suddenly makes sense to Bucky.

A helicopter! It thuds loudly, motor whirring and buzzing and blowing sand everywhere while whipping trees back and forth.

Bucky springs form the hut and sees you already racing towards the trees where you can see the chopper headed.

He passes you quickly, easily. But he doesn’t stop because he knows that you would never forgive him.

Bucky runs faster than he’s ever run in his life, barreling through dense jungle but never once missing a step.

The branches of certain trees scrape at his skin and slap his face, but he doesn’t relent in his pursuit.

It takes minutes for him to reach a small field of tall grass. It’s sways violently in the chopper’s wind and at the center of this field is Ryan.

Bucky stops, taking in the sight as a blinding spotlight shines on Ryan first then quickly swings towards him.

Ryan follows the beam and when he sees Bucky take a step towards him, he reaches down to his hip where a holster suddenly sits. He pulls a gun, a 9mm Beretta from what Bucky can tell, and stops his advance.

“Stop!” Ryan orders, his voice tight and commanding.

As the chopper descends a little more to hover at fifty feet, a steel wire ladder falls down towards Ryan as Bucky begins to notice the metal case in his other arm.

“What’s in there?” Bucky asks, staying as still as he can until he might have a chance to pounce.

“The other black box.” Ryan says simply, his voice softer but defiant. “Parts of it.”

Bucky’s glare is piercing and if Ryan didn’t have that gun, he would probably have already fled.

“I had to…” Ryan begins, still combative in tone but Bucky realizes that the anger in it is not directed at him. “They have me by the balls, mate. When Grace died, Conor would have followed, but they found me, and they offered to save his life. That is a debt I can never repay.”

Bucky’s fists tighten, anger bubbling up to choke him so that he cannot speak. These schemes, it has to be Hydra. No one else would want him dead.

“Who’s they?” He forces himself to ask, just to make sure.

It could be the U.S. Government too if he’s being completely honest. They could very well want him out of the way.

“I don’t know. People.” Ryan throws out, and Bucky believes that he doesn’t know. “All I know is they wanted you out of the way. If I had known that she…I didn’t know that she would be there. I didn’t know that they would die.”

Ryan’s voice grows thick and he shakes his head, ridding himself of whatever thoughts his guilt have conjured up.

“If I don’t finish the job, they’ll kill mah boy.” He holds the gun steadier, catching his breath before he makes his face as stoic as possible. “This is all I can give her. I can’t save her, but I can at least do this much. I can give her you. They’ll think you’re dead. I’ll make sure.”

Bucky sees it now. The real emotions behind his eyes. Ryan does love you. He’s certain of it now. He also understands what he’s saying and leans forward, angling himself so that when Ryan shoots, the bullet will hit his shoulder. Too high to be his chest and endanger his lungs or heart.

“Tell her I’m sorry.” Ryan pleads, and squeezes the trigger.

Bucky’s mind races with possibilities. Ryan might miss. He could hit him where he will not recover and then you’d be left here alone on this island. You’d hate him for not fighting and hate Ryan for killing him. He could bleed out and Bucky can’t imagine you here without him.

The bullet pierces him just where he’d hoped and falls to the ground with a heavy thud and goes as still as he can possibly can.

He holds his breath, pushing through the pain that burns from his right shoulder, and hoping that the chopper will leave quickly.

~~~~~~~~~~

Gasping with a stitch in your side and your legs made of jelly, you break through the trees onto a field you’ve passed a few times here on the island but avoided in case of snakes.

The sight before freezes you. Ryan shoots. Bucky falls.

Ryan turns to a wire ladder and begins to climb, and you race to Bucky, sobs already shaking your body.

“Bucky, no!” You gasp. “Please. Please, don’t be dead.”

As you reach him, you turn him over, and see that his eyes are wide open, reading your heartbroken expression as he remains unmoving while you press your hands against his wound.

You continue to sob, turning your eyes to the chopper overhead as it pulls away and takes with it all hope of your rescue.

As it fades into the distance, Bucky pulls himself up a bit, sitting up and pressing his much larger hand against the bullet hole on the front while you fuss with the exit wound in the back.

“W-We need to s-stitch you up.” You cry, voice low and controlled despite the sobs still ripping through your throat.

Without hesitation you reach down and tear away at your dress reducing its length even further, now just barely reaching your hips. You wrap it around the wound as best you can, slapping Bucky’s hand away to shove more fabric over it and then place his hand back over the spot.

“I’m alright, kitten.” Bucky tells you, voice strong and certain.

“Like fuck-all you are.” You sob, fisting the front of his shirt as you refuse to look back to where you can still hear the chopper’s sounds, fading. “H-He shot you.”

Bucky strokes the side of your face with his metal hand, directing your gaze up so that you can look at him.

As you meet his steel and ice eyes, full of warmth and reassurance, you fall to pieces as you realize that Ryan has betrayed you. All your suspicions, as unlikely as you’d thought them, were true.

Bucky metal arm pulls you closer, his lips pressed to your crown as you sob against his chest, knowing now that you will never leave this place. You and Bucky will live and die on this island and no one will ever know you were here.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #castaway au #bucky x reader fanfiction #bucky x reader fic #winter soldier x reader #bucky barnes x reader fanfiction #marvel au #marvel fanfiction #a world of our own #awooo #a world of our own pt06 #desert island au #stranded au #bucky x reader romance

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iceeckos12 · 3 years

Note

Prompt: Jongerrymartin but make it noir.

HI PIT. this was probably not what you were expecting, but hope you enjoy *jazz hands* this is current jongerry, pre-jgm

please let me know if i should tag anything!

Martin stared up at the faded gold lettering painted on the door, wiping a clammy palm against the fabric of his trousers. The other gripped his manila folder tightly, refusing to loosen his grip for even a second, not after all the trouble he’d gone through to get it.

Delano & Sims, the words read. Private Detectives.

He’d talked to one of them over the phone yesterday, a man with an achingly posh accent, who’d said to come at precisely fourteen hundred hours and not a moment later. That clipped, dry tone had almost been enough to scare him off, but...no, he needed this too much to run away.

Martin took a deep breath, and knocked.

“Come in,” a voice called, and he pushed inside.

The first thing he noticed were the swirls of cigarette smoke so thick that the weak light overhead glowed a thin silver. His eyes immediately began to water at the intensity of the smell, and he desperately wanted to bury his nose in his collar.

There was an exasperated sigh from one shrouded corner of the room, and then, “Christ—Jon, open the window, would you?”

“Oh, right, sorry,” There was a clatter as the blinds lifted, and then a solid thunk, and suddenly fresh air and natural light was pouring through the open window, throwing the room in stark relief.

“Sorry about that,” the man next to the window said, leaning heavily on a handsome wooden cane. He was just a wisp of a thing, dressed in a sweater vest like he was some sort of professional academic, with salt and pepper grey hair and dark, keen eyes. “Forgot we had someone coming.”

This must be the person I talked to over the phone, Martin realized. Sims.

“Do me a favor and try not to kill our clients, Jon.” He quickly turned to look at Delano—who else could it be?—who was stepping away from the fan now juddering to life, swirling the quickly dissipating smoke. It was almost startling how different the two partners were; where Sims was thin and short, Delano was tall and wiry, with inky black hair and cool, gunmetal eyes. The weathered leather trench coat and chunky boots had obviously seen some better days. “We need all the ones we can get.”

Martin’s face flushed as he was struck by how unfairly attractive these two people were.

“Duly noted,” Sims drawled, limping over to the heavy desk stacked high with papers. He set the cane aside and propped himself against it with a quiet sigh, then gestured toward one of the ratty looking chairs. “Take a seat, Mr. Blackwood.”

Martin shifted uncomfortably. “Oh, I don’t…”

“No need to stand on decorum, not around here.” Delano pointedly plopped into the chair behind the desk, grin wide and toothy. “Jon just likes to pretend that we’re more professional than we actually are.”

“We’re professional,” Sims protested, sounding deeply offended. “Just...unorthodox.”

“Well, alright,” Martin said, and lowered into the surprisingly comfortable chair.

Delano cleared his throat. “Right. So what brings you to us, Mr. Blackwood?”

Martin thought for a moment, not wanting to speak rashly, or to give away anything too personal. “Well, I’ve heard rumors that you two are capable of...discretion, so to speak, and I would prefer that this doesn’t get spread around.”

“Ah.” Sims’ eyes quickly flicked up and down his body, one eyebrow raising. “Out of curiosity, can I ask who referred you to us?”

“Tim Stoker?” Martin shuffled. “He said that you helped him out of a similar bind not too long ago.”

Sims and Delano glanced at each other, their eyebrows doing a complicated little dance, though what information could’ve been conveyed through such a medium, Martin had no clue. They turned to look at him again in unison, expressions very serious.

“When you say similar…” Delano trailed off.

Martin immediately shook his head. “Oh, nothing to do with the Circus. I’m not stupid enough to get involved with them after what happened with Tim and his brother.”

They both relaxed immediately.

“That’s good for you,” Delano told him. “We’ve run afoul of Nikola and her merry band far too many times for comfort. If you’d said you’d gotten on her bad side, I’m afraid we would’ve had to ask you to leave.”

Martin glanced at Sims, who was staring very hard at his feet, then Delano, who was observing him calmly, patiently, the way a bird of prey sights down a mouse. “Oh.”

“Quite,” Sims murmured.

“Anyway,” Delano gave a wide, grandiose gesture. “Please. Why have you come to us?”

The manila folder suddenly felt very, very heavy, and he fiddled with one of the corners, rubbing the material between his fingers. “Well...I work for this, um, this shipping company. I mostly do busywork, administrative tasks, that sort of thing. It’s not very glamorous, but it—it pays really well, despite the company being kind of small.” Martin traced the grain of the paper with one finger. “I think it handles a lot of….specialty items.”

“And the name of this company?” Sims asked, pen poised over the little notebook he’d appeared from seemingly nowhere.

Anxiety plummeted his stomach into his toes. “I’m sorry, but I don’t feel comfortable giving away that information.”

Delano’s eyebrows rose. “Discretion, remember? Besides, we’ll need to know if we’re going to be able to help you.”

“If we decide to help you,” Sims muttered.

Martin took a few fortifying breaths, swallowing the nausea down. “Right,” he murmured. “Right. It’s, um...Tundra shipping company? Run by Mr. Peter Lukas.”

Sims went very, very still, pen poised above his notebook, expression fixed like it’d been molded into his face. Delano loomed forward, the gunmetal of his eyes gleaming like the sun reflecting off of a loaded barrel. “Is that so?”

Martin glanced toward Sims, wondering at his demeanor, then turned back to Delano and nodded. “Yeah. You two—you know him?”

“Do we.” Delano let out a dry chuckle. “Continue.”

“Right.” Martin shook his head. “Well, one day I was doing some bookkeeping, just...routine stuff, you know? But I noticed something off with the numbers, like...really wrong. And I double checked my math several times just to make sure, but…” he swallowed. “I think that someone may be cooking the books, or...or something. I don’t know.

“Anyway, I went back the next day but the numbers had been changed, and—and Mr. Lukas called me into his office and said some really weird stuff that I think may have been a threat? It was hard to tell.” Martin shook his head, biting his lip. “There’s been other stuff, too. Contracts with companies that I know don’t exist, visitors at odd hours. I think something really rotten is going on, but I don’t think that I can handle it myself.”

Delano and Sims shared an unhappy look. Then Sims pushed away from the desk and began to circle the perimeter of the room, his eyebrows furrowing into a thunderstorm on his brow.

“We’d love to finally be able to pin something substantial on the bastard—on Lukas,” Delano said. “But insinuating those types of claims without a shred of evidence...that’s a nonstarter. We’re going to need a little bit more than that.”

“But I do have evidence?” Martin asked, lifting the manila folder. “I took photocopies of the pages, and notated where the discrepancies were.” He wrinkled his nose. “I wasn’t about to just write on official financial records. There’s also some of the weird contracts I was talking about. I kept copies of everything.”

Sims, who’d walked out of sight while Martin had been talking, suddenly appeared behind him, reaching for the folder. “Can I see?”

“Be careful with it, that’s the only copy,” Martin said nervously, but handed it over.

Sims walked back over to the desk, hopped up on the edge, and eagerly tipped the contents of the folder on the space between him and Delano. They quickly sifted through the papers, wordlessly handing things to each other like a seamless, well-oiled machine.

“This is good.” Delano’s voice was almost hushed, almost awed. “This is...really good, actually.”

“But you see why I can’t go to the police with this, right?” Martin twisted his hands fitfully. “You see why I need your help.”

“Of course not,” Sims said dismissively, though there was an eager gleam in his eyes. “The police are so deep in Lukas’ pocket you might as well have kissed your life goodbye if you’d gone to them.”

“Oh.” Martin swallowed, trying and failing to come up with anything more intelligent than that. “Oh.”

Delano drummed his fingers against the desk pensively. “Speaking of, it wouldn’t be a good idea to pursue this recklessly. We appreciate you bringing this to us, but it does put you in a significant amount of danger. Do you have friends or family outside the country you can stay with, Mr. Blackwood?”

“Um…” He had cousins in Poland, he was pretty sure. Whether or not they would take him in was another question entirely. “Possibly.”

Sims reluctantly gathered the papers up and slid them back into the manila folder, before holding it out. “Come back when you’ve got something lined up.”

Martin lifted a quelling hand as he got to his feet. “I’d...prefer you hold onto it, honestly. It’s probably safer with you.”

Sims blinked, then shrugged and set the folder back down. “I see.”

“We’ll be seeing you later, Mr. Blackwood.” Delano’s grin was a sharp, toothy thing. Despite its grimness, Martin found himself inexplicably comforted by it.

“Please,” he corrected before he could help himself. “Call me Martin.”

-0-

“So,” Gerry said, long after Martin had left and the excitement had faded. He filled a glass with some ice, then tipped a finger of whisky over the top. “What do you think?”

“I don’t trust him,” Jon said almost before Gerry had finished talking, accepting the glass with a quiet murmur of thanks. “It’s a bit too good to be true. After years of searching, someone just...emerges with hard evidence of Peter’s wrongdoings?” An incredulous snort. “I don’t think so.”

Gerry propped himself up against the edge of the desk, staring at the dark bags under his partner’s eyes, the cynical curve of his mouth. He looked exhausted. “You never know,” he said mildly, taking a sip of his whiskey sour before continuing. “I think we’re about due for a lucky break.”

“We don’t get lucky breaks. We get fooled into thinking that we have a lucky break, only to get royally fucked later,” Jon snapped, thumping his cane against the ground for emphasis. “You should know that by now.”

Gerry frowned. “Don’t take this out on me.”

Jon metaphorical hackles went up, and for a moment it looked as though he were about to start shouting—but then he abruptly deflated and looked away. “No, you’re right, it’s just…”

Gerry sighed. It was difficult to stay angry at Jon when he bore such a striking resemblance to a kicked puppy. “I get it.”

They fell silent for a moment, sipping their drinks, lost in their respective thoughts.

“Shall we go?” Gerry asked, setting his glass aside.

Jon paused for a moment longer, before letting out a long, gusty sigh and draining what was left in his drink. “Sure.”

The elevator was still broken, so unfortunately they had to take the stairs. While Gerry knew better than to offer any assistance, his heart still clenched at how tight with pain Jon’s jaw had gone by the time they reached the bottom. They stopped for a few seconds to let Jon get his breath back, before continuing toward home.

About a block away from the office, they froze at the sound of pounding footsteps growing unmistakably closer.

“Hear that?” Jon murmured out of the corner of his mouth, the dying light of the sun glinting off the switchblade in his free hand.

“Mmhm,” Gerry hummed, slipping a hand into his pocket.

Martin was very, very lucky that Gerry recognized him as he rounded the corner; otherwise, it was very likely that Jon would’ve run him through. As it was, Martin crashed into them both, gasping frantically for air, cheeks flushed, eyes wide with abject terror.

“Martin?” Jon demanded, shoving the switchblade away. “What the hell are you—”

“They’re after me,” Martin gasped out, scrabbling at Gerry’s coat. “They—I don’t know how they found out, but they, Peter, he—”

“Shit,” Gerry muttered, suddenly becoming aware of the second set of pounding footsteps growing nearer. He took a moment to assess their surroundings, before grabbing Martin’s shoulders and hauling him into the nearby alley. “Martin, hide behind that dumpster. Jon, distraction time.”

Despite the situation, Jon’s eyes lit up with an exhilarated gleam. Gerry had just enough time to fondly think, adrenaline junkie, before Jon tucked his cane over his wrist, twisted his hands in Gerry’s lapels, and shoved him against the wall for a bruising kiss.

Gerry gasped into Jon’s mouth, his hands instinctively falling to cup Jon’s slim hips. He deepened the kiss, humming encouragingly when Jon shoved his jacket over his shoulders, exposing the thin black t-shirt beneath.

Jon was just beginning to press little kisses down the juncture of his jaw and neck when the harsh beam of a torch fell on them. Jon, who’d been a drama queen long before he’d joined am dram in uni, pulled away with a theatrical gasp, his annoyance almost startlingly genuine. Gerry tucked his face out of the way and adjusted his jacket, affecting embarrassment.

“Do you mind?” Jon asked.

“Oh,” the person on the other end of the torch said, sounding distinctly uncomfortable. Gerry tried to peek a look, but the beam was too strong for him to see into the darkness beyond it. “Sorry to disturb you sirs, um...you wouldn’t happen to have seen a person—?”

“No, we haven’t seen a person.” Keeping one hand curled in Gerry’s jacket, Jon took a step back, lifting his chin defiantly. “Now if you’ll excuse us, we were busy.”

“Right,” the person muttered, and then the torchlight abruptly vanished, dropping them once more into the dying light of the sun.

They stood there for a moment, Jon breathing hard, cheeks flushed. Gerry tipped his head back against the wall, letting his eyes flutter shut as his pumping heart slowed.

Then the grip in his collar loosened, and Jon let out a pained groan and sank against the wall. “Fuck.”

“Alright, take it easy,” Gerry murmured. He pressed a kiss against Jon’s hair and rubbed a soothing hand against his back. “You did beautifully.” Then louder, “Martin, you can come out now.”

There was a brief pause, and then a shadow tentatively emerged from behind the dumpster. Martin looked far less rattled than he had when he’d first run around the corner, though there was still a healthy flush to his cheeks. He peered up the alley, wringing his hands. “Are they…”

“For now,” Jon said, grimacing as he dug his knuckles into the tight muscles. “We should leave before they get back.”

Martin’s eyes honed in on him. “Will you be okay?”

“I’ll be fine,” Jon snapped, straightening. “You should be more worried about yourself. You can’t go home, right?”

The question seemed to remind Martin of the current situation, because his eyes went a little wild again. “No, they...I left to do a bit of shopping, and then came back and, and there they were.”

They fell silent for a moment, considering that.

“Well, there’s nothing for it,” Jon said brusquely. “You’ll have to come home with us.”

“What?” Martin gaped.

Gerry was already nodding. “We don’t have much room, but we can make up the couch for you.”

That only seemed to make Martin all the more aghast. “Wait! Wait, won’t that put you in danger?”

Gerry looked up and met Jon’s gaze.

“We have...a certain degree of protection,” Gerry hazarded delicately. “It won’t do much against the likes of Peter himself, but lesser threats…”

“You’ll be fine,” Jon completed. “Now unless you want to run into them again, we had better get going.”

Martin glanced mutely between them, looking like he wanted nothing more than to argue. Then his shoulders slumped, probably realizing that he had no other choice considering how dire the situation was.

“Alright,” he murmured, defeated. “Let’s go.”

#tma #ask #pitviperofdoom #iceeckos12 writes #my writing #jongerrymartin #noir au

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sadachmesarthim · 3 years

Photo

yes this is a rewrite, feel free to fry my ass on anon about it.

content: starker being mean to each other, peter parker has Supportive Friends™, tony has daddy and mommy issues, quentin beck is a Mean Boss™, smoking, secondhand smoke.

word count: 3.0k

square filled: coffee shop au -> link to playlist here

part two is here!

a little vocab lesson before continuing: mobster = really high up in the chain of command for this group of coffee shops. they go around training new hirees, and often decide who gets to move up the line of command. they get to travel on company money, and are very well respected in the workplace. mobsters usually come in groups - siblings, hires from the same groups, etc.

Tony didn't like Richland.

Sure, okay, it was a serious step up from Federal Way. He was free from his parents, he could do whatever he wanted in a house all to himself, no one knew who he was - it was a refreshing change, one he definitely needed now that he was graduated, all grown up.

He'd moved back east about two months ago. He'd wanted to get as far away from home as possible, stretch his legs - he went under the guise of missing his grandma, wanting to go to school. He wasn't a terrible liar, either. Howard and Maria'd eaten it up, encouraging him to go as soon as he could.

"If you go now, you could get there in time for summer classes. Maybe even get a job before they stop hiring seasonally. You never know, but you might as well try!"

So here he was. Still jobless, still not yet enrolled in school. Enjoying his time in the (now autumn) sunshine, biding his time before he ran out of money. He'd planned well - he had enough cash to keep him covered for a while, as long as he didn't go blowing it.

He'd blown it.

He was a sucker for good coffee, though, and he missed Outback. He'd worked at one back home for almost a year before he left, and now... now, it was like an itch he couldn't scratch - he needed the interaction, needed to go make friends. He was too much of a social butterfly.

Yet again, he found himself in his truck, on the way to the nearest stand. He was pathetic, really. Here he was, wasting more money on coffee, when he could be out hiking or climbing or... literally doing anything else.

He knew it was worth it the second he pulled in. The cutest kid was running lines that day - shorts hugging his tight ass deliciously, in a way Tony knew his operator would get in trouble for if a Mobster or Coach saw. Christ, they lettin' just anyone work here now, that it?

He had to keep his thoughts to himself, though - the kid had just finished the cars in front of him, and was headed straight for Tony, iPad in hand. He took a breath, putting on his best poker face. He needed a fucking cigarette.

"Hey handsome! Welcome to Outback, what're we drinkin' today?" Shit, he's cute. All bright and cheery - it might be fake, sure, customer service voice and all - but boy, did he play the part well. All big eyes and wide smile. He looked up at Tony expectantly, right hand hovering over the screen of the runner iPad. Shit, he still has to order something.

"Hi, just a small iced white vanilla breve please." Tony watched as the kid pressed a few spaces on the tablet, shocked at how fluidly he moved. Tony'd never seen him at this location before, but he obviously knew what he was doing. Location transfer, maybe? Mobster? He wasn't sure.

"Perfect! I've got you in - anything else, love?" God, he was too much. There's no way this was just the sickly facade Outback enforced - no, this was all him. "Nah, I'm okay. I'm paying card today, too." He reached his hand out for the tablet, wanting to tip this kid specifically.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, this card reader's broken. The one up at the window's working though! My girl Maia'll be up there waiting for you!" He turned with a smile, skipping off to the next car.

Jesus, who was this kid? And what did Tony have to do to see him again?

•|||•

Return an application, apparently.

Maia, the girl at the window, had let him know that they were hiring. He didn't have to feign interest - he had relevant experience, could work his way up if he needed to - and he'd get to see the mystery boy again. She'd ran and grabbed a small stack of papers for him, which he dutifully filled out and brought back a couple of hours later.

The closing shift lead had briefly interviewed him, practically giving him the job on the spot. Apparently she'd met his sister on a Mob trip, before - it paid to have connections, but damn... someone in town already knew who he was. Oh well. Not a big deal. These were still new people, fresh faces - he could make a clean reputation for himself, a fresh start...

It was exactly what he needed. And if he needed to use a bit of his influence with his sister to get it... so be it.

•|||•

"Emma, please, just... don't be a dick when he calls you. I need this job, it'll be good for m-"

"Save it, Tony. I don't want your excuses. If I say I'll do it, will you leave me alone?" She was being unusually short with him. Fuck. She and Rhodey were fighting again.

"Yes, yes, anything. Thank you so much." He was met with a bored sigh.

"Whatever, dude. I'll put in a good word. Talk to you later." She hung up before he could say anything else. Whatever - it wasn't the worst conversation he'd had with his sister, but it left a lot to be desired.

They hadn't been doing well since she & Rhodey got together. It was on-again-off-again... and they were honestly both to blame. Neither one of them was good at commitment, and it showed.

It put strain on both of their relationships with Tony, and didn't do much to help keep him in Federal Way. He sought comfort in the isolation of a new town, but it didn't seem to be helping anything.

Leaving never did, but it was really all he knew how to do.

•|||•

Peter hadn’t been at Outback long, but he’d enjoyed every minute of it.

He’d gotten hired almost immediately after graduation, not wanting to waste a second of his summer not making money. It was a bit of a difficult transition - he wasn’t a big fan of Beck, his boss, and training was really overwhelming. But after he’d hit that twelve week mark... it’s like something just clicked.

He was a whiz on bar, he was making friends right and left. He and Maia’d even gone to get tattoos together a couple weeks ago during a flash sale. He was getting faster and faster at running cars, he knew almost all of his regular customers. He genuinely felt like part of the family.

That didn’t really change when Beck hired a new group, either. There weren’t too many of them, helping keep their group small. They’d been spending a bit of time in the stand here and there, going over the rules, the ins and outs of making coffee, taking their menu test.

The three he was introducing today seemed okay enough. He just barely caught the tail end of Beck's “congrats on becoming a full employee” monologue before the man set the fresh meat loose. Not that they could really go far - it was maybe a good spit's distance from corner to corner. But, if it helped them get their bearings...

He was pulled from his thoughts before they could take off too far. “Hey, Parker! Come say hi to the green beans!”

•|||•

The red haired girl was nice enough. They'd introduced themselves, exchanged snap usernames, gushed over Peter's tattoos, and bonded over the typical new job anxiety. He'd forged a sweet new friendship with Bri, and was hopeful she'd stick around. He'd seen people like her get chewed up and spit out in this industry, and he liked her.

The tall guy... was pretty boring, actually. He stayed on his phone for the majority of the introduction, opting to ignore Peter entirely. It was fine - he'd probably be gone by the end of the month. Not like they’d miss him - he barely passed his menu test, from what Peter’d overheard.

Then came Mr. Short, Dark, and Brooding - Tony, apparently - Peter remembered him from a few weeks ago. He’d given Peter a poorly concealed once-over, tried to take the runner iPad from right out of his hands... if he wasn’t so attractive, Peter’d pin him for a fuckboy.

Despite how much he looked like he’d wanted to back then, when given the opportunity, he didn’t really engage with Peter. He apparently wasn’t the type to keep eye contact, go in for a hug, make small talk. 0 for 2. Disappointing. Oh well. That’s fine - Peter was perfectly content as the only guy at this location (sans Beck, of couse). Too much testosterone didn’t foster a healthy working environment, and they all knew it.

The girls, especially. They all gushed over Peter - apparently being the token gay guy in the stand somehow made him exempt from the targetted harassment. Nearly every guy they’d hired had left within 9 months - coffee was definitely a female-dominated field.

Peter was excited to see how these two fared.

•|||•

The tall guy was gone within a week. Didn’t even leave notice, just up and stopped showing up to his shifts. Not that it was the end of the world - he was still in his probationary period, so he wasn’t even making tips. No sweat off Peter’s back.

Bri did really well, in comparison. Beck was unusually strict with her - lashing out during her initial first shifts, generally being a hardass. It was unnecessary, and everyone knew it - Peter often found himself having fridge or bathroom meetings with her to help calm her down. But she kept showing up, kept trying, and after a few weeks she was doing just as well as Peter and the rest of them.

Tony was even better. Peter’d heard through the grapevine that he’d worked at a different location when he was still in school. Why he had to go through training again was lost on Peter - Beck tended to be thorough when it came to these kinds of things, but Tony was arguably more experienced than some of Peter’s coworkers...

Apparently, it’s because he wasn’t one to play nice.

•|||•

It took them quite a while to work together. Peter’d found himself getting the shit end of the schedule, working 7-1s religiously. It was by far his least favorite shift - dealing with the morning and lunch rushes were nothing, if not exhausting. But he pushed through, and finally got a say in what he worked - a very comfortable 5 - close.

Tony seemed to fill the between-shift gap - 2-8 was his jam. He liked working later, but still getting home before dark. Apparently being a newbie meant drawing the short straw sometimes -

And the short straw just so happened to be barring with the twink from a few weeks ago.

He hadn’t been... avoiding him. Tony just... didn’t like the way he worked. Peter was flighty, always moving. It irked him... he was just so much, it made Tony’s head hurt. If he wasn’t so engaging he might actually piss Tony off - but he knew the kid had nothing but good intentions, and that made it bearable.

It didn’t translate to the bar, though.

It seemed nearly impossible for them to work well together. Tony’d been assigned the milk station for the last three hours of his shift - a long stretch, but nothing he hadn’t done before. Peter was on shots almost the entire time. Poor kid.

Tony’s sympathy ran dry when they actually began working. They were almost always on top of each other - Peter crowding his space and trying to do too much. It grated on Tony’s every nerve, made it difficult to function. Peter didn’t seem to notice at all - or if he did, he didn’t care.

It came to a head when Peter went for the fridge.

It was a pretty well-known rule that the person on shots doesn’t reach for the fridge. Not only was it too far away from their position on machine, it requires them to go behind their bar partner, which is dangerous in a shop this small. Hot liquids, ice, sugar... they can cause spills, burns, falls...

So of course this dumbass goes for the fridge. Opens the door. Grabs a can of cold brew with his bare hands before turning back around.

And running into Tony face first.

This would have been fine if it were literally anything other than a cold brew. This would have been fine if Tony wasn’t holding a fresh drink! But no - the universe lined things up just right, laid out the most well-planned disaster.

As they made contact, Peter’s hands flew up in shock, dropping the very pressurized can. It exploded as it hit the concrete, spraying nitrogen and foam-y coffee all over them. This caused Tony to let go of the drink in his hand, coating both of their lower halves in hot, sticky milk.

It was picturesque, the mess they made.

Tony looked up at Peter in absolute shock. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?! Why were you in the fridge?!”

“I was just trying to help! You were busy, I figured I could-” Tony cut him off before he filled the stand with more hot air. Not in the mood for his bullshit excuses.

“I don’t care how busy you think I am - you ask before doing something outside of your station. Do you understand me?” The look in his eye was one Peter’d never seen before - it probably should have scared him, but frankly, it just made him angrier.

“Who do you think you are to be giving me orders?” He was huffy, he could feel his cheeks burning red. He was an angry crier, and knew he was struggling to control his face.

“My sister’s a Mobster. I think I know what I’m doing.” Oh. That explained it - his experience, his proficiency on bar... why he was such a dick. Peter’d never met a Mobster he liked, and if this guy was related to one... shit just made sense.

•|||•

He spent the remaining few hours of Tony’s shift hiding in the back. They were better off separated, and neither complained. Tony could handle himself up front, and Peter was productive enough. He had chores to do, dishes to finish, the closing list to start... Getting an early start benefitted everyone.

By the time 8 rolled around, the atmosphere in the stand had relaxed. They’d both had a chance to clean up, the girls on window had helped ease the tension with casual conversation. Bri had been running, and Peter spent plenty of time in the back with her, hushed enough to avoid the ears a few feet away.

“I don’t see why he gets to walk all over us. You’ve been here longer, and the attitude isn’t necessary.” She was sitting on the edge of the sink, goldfish making their way to her mouth between words. “You know I don’t like him. I don’t see why you keep trying to be nice.”

Peter sighed. He knew she was right. “I just... I don’t want anyone here to feel left out, or like I did at the beginning. Beck can be mean... I want all of you to feel welcome.” It wasn’t a lie, either - he’d made a point to make everyone feel at home, to make this stand a family. Until Tony showed up, he’d been doing a great job.

“I know buttercup. Just... don’t go bending over backward for someone that won’t even look you in the eye.” With that she hopped down, ready to clock out.

Tony shuffled past them both, excited to do the same. Maia’d taken over the bar for him, alleviating him just before the four minute window was up. He didn’t even excuse himself, just inserting himself in their personal space without concern.

Bri shot Peter a look before she left. Talk to him!

He opted for bravery. He deserved an apology for Tony’s harsh words earlier today, and he was going to get it.

He checked the cameras before walking back, making sure Maia wasn’t gonna wind up swamped if this took longer than necessary. Tony was collecting his things - he had to do this fast.

“Hey, listen.” Tony looked up, unamused. “I know we didn’t exactly have a good shift, and yeah I’m partly to blame for that... but Beck doesn’t really vibe with hostility, and the girls...”

Tony cut him off halfway through. “What, it makes them uncomfortable? They don’t like it when a man takes charge, has a little outburst? Sheesh, y’all really are a mess.” What the fuck?

“Okay, seriously. I tried to be nice. You owe me, and the rest of us, a serious apology for today, or I’m going to Quentin about it. It’s not that hard to say you’re sorry, Tony.” Good job Parker, firm boundaries.

“I’m sorry? Sorry for what, doing my job? Fuck that, man. I’m out of here.” He opened the door and left, skipping past an oncoming car and heading toward his own.

Peter followed him. It was stupid, sure - but he needed to assert himself here. This was his stand, his home - and he was damned if he was going to let some... some asshole trample all over his home like this.

He caught up to Tony quickly, stopping him before he could open the driver’s door. “Why are you such an asshole? The girls are obsessed with you, you clearly have a leg up against everyone else in your group. There’s no reason for you to be acting like this, dude. You’ve been here all of what, a month?”

Tony took a long drag from his cigarette before answering. “I don’t have to explain myself to you. Now be a good little closer, and run inside. Finish your shift.” He exhaled the smoke into Peter’s face, getting into his car and driving away without another word.

What a douchebag.

#sorry i just flat out didn't like this #sfsummerbingo21 #starkerfestivalsevents #starker #peter parker/tony stark #peter parker x tony stark #coffee shop au #.mine #i'm so sorry mads #i know i'm a pain in the ass

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silverlightqueen · 3 years

Text

Satiate

silverlightqueen’s SKZ Scarefest

incubus!Jisung x human!reader ft. itzy yeji and ab6ix daehwi - smut again, a little bit of comedy and fluff, jisung tries his hardest to be soft but it’s a struggle bc he wants to corrupt y/n lol I’m a slut for corruption kink

Word Count: 11.2k+ words (I’M SO SORRY)

Summary - y/n needs to lose her virginity before her date with Sex God Seonghwa, and what better way than to enlist the help of a soft dom sex demon? Except the soft dom was fully booked, so she got a hard dom sex demon instead. But it’ll be totally fine. Right?

Warnings: discussion of virginity, explicit sex, unprotected sex, harddom/softdom!jisung x subvirgin!y/n, explicit dirty talk, soft and rough sex lol, corruption kink, marking, fingering, oral sex (m receiving), facefucking, guided blowjob, cum swallowing, gagging, hair pulling, teasing, brief nipple play, multiple orgasms, penetrative sex, crying during sex, virgin sex, it hurts her a lot at the start, asphyxiation, degradation and praise lol, overstimulation, aftercare, I think that’s it but please let me know if you notice I missed something!

a/n: and here is the fifth instalment of my SKZ Scarefest! I really hope you guys enjoy this, and thank you to my sexy best friend for proofreading this filthy monster of a fic lmao, you’re the best! please be sure to check out the previous parts and keep an eye out for the next parts too! x

taglist: @kodzu-ken @cloudsgathering @silverlightprincess

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‘Did I just hear what I think I heard?’ Daehwi says from Yeji’s bedroom door, mouth wide open in shock, and I shoot Yeji a dirty look for talking so loud. We’re sat on her bed opposite each other, both of us with legs crossed and a half empty pizza box beside us. ‘What did you think you heard?’ she asks him, obviously not wanting to admit anything she doesn’t have to. ‘You saying that y/n is a… virgin,’ he says, whispering the last word, and Yeji winces as I let out a loud huff, dropping my head into my hands. ‘Please, Daehwi, kindly never ever mention that again. To me or to anybody else,’ I wail embarrassedly, voice muffled by my hands, and Daehwi lets out a little laugh, stepping in and shutting the door behind him.

‘Why did I not know this?’ he asks, throwing himself down on the bed between Yeji and I, sprawled out on her covers, and I lift my head from my hands. ‘Why would you? It’s not like I’d mention it to my best friend’s boyfriend.’ ‘I would’ve thought Yeji would’ve told me,’ he says pointedly, Yeji rolling her eyes. ‘I’m not gonna spill my best friend’s secrets to you. It’s none of your business anyway.’ ‘Well, no, but I could’ve helped,’ he says, my eyes widening as Yeji chokes on thin air. ‘Not personally, obviously! I could’ve set you up with someone. Loads of my friends think you’re hot,’ Daehwi says, Yeji and I exchanging a glance.

‘What?’ ‘I’ve told you this before. Well… I thought I did. But, yeah, they mention y/n a lot. They’ve all got little crushes on you – who wouldn’t? You are pretty hot, y/n. From an objective point of view, obviously,’ he adds as a panicked afterthought, the scowl on Yeji’s face softening as she rolls her eyes. ‘I’m not looking to… lose my virginity, though. I’m quite happy being a virgin,’ I say, Yeji and Daehwi both raising their eyebrows at me, and I let out an annoyed huff. ‘Okay, maybe I’m panicking about it!’ I exclaim, Daehwi laughing as Yeji pats my leg comfortingly.

‘Why are you panicking?’ ‘You know that guy in your Wednesday morning seminar, Seonghwa? Well, she’s been crushing on him for a while, and he asked her to go to Jackson’s Halloween party with him! But she’s worried he’s gonna want sex, because she feels like she’s gonna fuck it all up and it’s gonna really hurt because she’s really inexperienced and doesn’t have a clue what she’s doing and-’ ‘Okay, Yeji, god, don’t sugar-coat it!’ ‘Sorry, sorry. So yeah, she’s panicking,’ Yeji explains, Daehwi nodding as he listens. ‘So… just don’t have sex with him if you’re not comfortable with it. You don’t owe it to him,’ Daehwi says, and I sigh. ‘But I want to have sex with him. God, I really wanna have sex with him. He’s so goddamn hot,’ I say dreamily, Daehwi raising an eyebrow. ‘He’s not that hot.’ ‘He is,’ Yeji says, ignoring the hurt look Daehwi throws her way.

‘So lose your virginity to him,’ Daehwi says, Yeji and I looking at him in disbelief. ‘You think Seonghwa The Sex God is gonna go easy on her? No, he won’t. And she needs someone to go easy on her the first time, so she can get used to it a little,’ Yeji says, Daehwi nodding. ‘So… you need someone to take your virginity and teach you about sex before Jackson’s Halloween party?’ Daehwi asks, Yeji and I nodding. We’re all silent for a moment, a thoughtful look on Daehwi’s face, and then he sighs.

‘Okay, this probably isn’t a good idea, but I’m gonna suggest it to you anyway,’ he says reluctantly, and I exchange a look with Yeji. ‘Have you heard of incubuses before?’ he asks, and I frown in confusion. ‘Um, yeah. They’re demons, right?’ ‘Yeah. Sex demons.’ ‘Oh. Sex demons,’ I repeat in surprise, and he nods, looking like he’s holding back a laugh. ‘Yeah. I know one. He’s a really nice guy actually – people usually summon him for their first time, or if they’ve just broken up with someone and they need to feel loved. He’s super soft and sweet. Well, that’s what I’ve heard,’ he adds at Yeji’s suspicious look, and I hold back a laugh.

‘So you’re telling me you can set me up with a soft and sweet sex demon to take my virginity?’ I ask, and he nods. ‘But… I wouldn’t advise it. It should be your last resort. You can get addicted to incubus sex, and that’s never good.’ ‘I’m sure Seonghwa would be able to satiate her cravings,’ Yeji says with a wink, both of us dissolving into giggles as Daehwi looks between us unamusedly. ‘I’m being serious.’ ‘But it sounds like a good idea, Daehwi. What does he look like?’ I ask, and Daehwi hesitates before sighing, getting his phone out of his pocket. When he holds the screen up to me a few moments later, my mouth falls open.

‘Oh, my God. He… is fucking gorgeous,’ I murmur, butterflies in my stomach at just seeing his face on a screen. It’s a group picture but Daehwi’s zoomed in on him, stood in the middle of the group of boys. He looks quite tall, very well-proportioned with long limbs, a small waist and thick thighs. His hair is long and blond, and he has half of it pulled back into a ponytail in this picture, a few strands framing his perfect face. His eyes are dark and sparkly, his lips are plump and pink, his bone structure is strong and defined, and his skin is smooth and tanned. ‘Oh. Wow,’ Yeji says when she sees the picture, Daehwi huffing in annoyance. ‘Sorry, but he is hot. Hotter than Sex God Seonghwa.’

‘What’s his name?’ I ask, unable to keep my eyes off him. ‘He goes by Hyunjin. That’s his human name, anyway. I could text him to ask if he’d help y-’ ‘Yes. Text him. Please.’ ‘Are you sure?’ ‘Hundred percent.’ Yeji and I watch as Daehwi sends Hyunjin a text (didn’t know demons had phones), asking for a favour, and then the three of us wait eagerly for a reply, half-focusing on the film playing on Yeji’s tv. ‘He’s typing!’ Daehwi exclaims, Yeji squealing as we stare at the screen, waiting for his reply to pop up.

Daehwi: hey bro, how you been? looking forward to seeing you at Jackson’s. wondering if you could do me a favour?

Hyunjin: hey bro! I’m good, looking forward to it too. anything bro, what you need?

Daehwi: my girlfriend’s friend has a date to the party, and she wants to lose her virginity before the date. I know you… deal with stuff like that a lot, so we were wondering if you could help her out?

Daehwi: she’s hot

‘Daehwi, you idiot! Why would you put that? Now we look desperate!’ Yeji exclaims as I hit my head with my hand. ‘Sorry. But Hyunjin has a weakness for a pretty face! There’s no way he’ll say no,’ Daehwi says, Yeji and I exchanging an exasperated glance as his phone pings with a new text.

Hyunjin: bro if you’d texted me like an hour ago, I could’ve helped 😭 my schedule is literally packed bc it’s so close to halloween, I literally can’t fit anyone else in

Hyunjin: how hot is she tho 👀

‘Send him that sexy picture I took of her on that night out. The one where she’s smiling and she looks all glowy and she’s got her tits out,’ Yeji says, Daehwi letting out a little noise of disgust as he opens my Instagram. ‘Do her tits disgust you, Daehwi?’ Yeji demands angrily, making me burst into laughter. ‘Her… tits make me feel nothing. Let’s hope they make Hyunjin feel something, so he moves his schedule around,’ Daehwi says as he sends the picture, successfully deflecting Yeji’s accusation.

Hyunjin: bro you’re killing me here, she’s so hot 😭

Hyunjin: I wish I could move my schedule around but I just can’t. apparently people like fucking soft doms at halloween

Hyunjin: I’ve got a friend who might be able to fit her in tho

‘He’s a soft dom? Oh, my God, he would’ve been perfect,’ Yeji says miserably, and I can’t help but feel miserable myself. This gorgeous specimen actually finds me hot but is too busy to have sex with me. How is this fair? ‘Ask about his friend,’ I say reluctantly, and Daehwi begins typing out a message.

Daehwi: what’s your friend like?

Hyunjin: he’s apparently really good but he’s not um as soft as I am

Hyunjin: he’s kinda a hard dom

Hyunjin: but he’s been wanting to uh expand his skill set for a while

Hyunjin: I can’t believe I’m giving up this opportunity but this might be good for him

‘What’d you say, y/n?’ Daehwi asks, and I feel a little reluctant. I’m supposed to have someone go easy on me for my first time and instead I’m gonna have a hard dom sex demon who’s trying to ‘expand his skill set’. I’m not sure this is a good idea, but showing up to that party with Seonghwa as a completely untouched virgin is a worse idea. ‘Fuck it. Tell him I’ll do it.’

Daehwi: she said she’ll do it

Hyunjin: great! jisung will be happy

Hyunjin: what’s her name?

Daehwi: y/n y/l/n. she lives in the same accommodation block as me

Hyunjin: great, I’ve just spoken to him and he said he’ll be there tonight

‘Tonight?’ Yeji and I chorus in a loud shriek, Daehwi covering his ears with a wince. ‘Girl, let’s get you back to your apartment now. Shower and shave and put on something sexy,’ Yeji says excitedly, jumping out of the bed and pulling me towards the door. ‘Yeji, wai- Thank you, Daehwi!’ I shout over my shoulder as she drags me out of the room. ‘No problem, y/n,’ I hear him call back, ‘have fun with Jisung!’

‘Wow. My first virgin and she’s fast asleep,’ a dry voice cuts into my slumber, and I peel my eyes open, blinking in the low light of my lamp. ‘Oh, maybe she’s not,’ the voice says again amusedly as I push myself up into a sitting position, the bedsheets still covering my half-naked body, and rub at my eyes to wake myself up. When I reopen them, they focus on a boy stood at the foot of my bed. ‘Wakey wakey, sweetheart,’ he murmurs, a smirk on his handsome face. ‘You’re Jisung, right?’ I ask, words a little slurred with drowsiness, and he lets out a gentle chuckle, sitting at the foot of my bed. ‘The one and only, baby,’ he replies with a grin, and I don’t reply, taking a moment to look him over.

He’s a little on the short side, but I’ve never really cared for height all that much, and his body is very much in proportion, his small waist giving him a nice figure. His hair is blond – dyed, I’m guessing. It doesn’t really look like it’d be natural with his honey complexion – and his eyes are dark brown. He’s very… very handsome, in his tight black jeans and plain white t-shirt, simple silver jewellery adorning his neck, ears, wrists and fingers.

‘Are you just gonna sit there staring at me, or are you gonna talk?’ he asks, pink lips quirking up into an amused smirk. ‘Sorry. I’m still a little… sleepy,’ I mumble, and he lets out a gentle chuckle. ‘I can tell. I’m sure Hyunjin told your friend that I was coming tonight.’ ‘He did. But I thought tonight would mean at, like, 11, 12, maybe 1. Not… 3.57 in the morning,’ I say pointedly as I read the time from my phone screen, raising an eyebrow at him, and he lets out a gentle laugh. ‘Sorry, sweetheart, but I’m a busy guy. I just about squeezed you into my schedule.’

‘Because you want to expand your skill set?’ I ask dryly, and he laughs quite loud at that. ‘Is that what Hyunjin told your friend? Fucking liar. I’m a hard dom, sweetheart, and quite happy being one – I’ll leave the heartbroken and the virgins to Hyunjin. I only accepted this because I owe him one, and because you… well, you’re hot,’ he says bluntly, and I feel myself starting to panic. ‘But… I’ve never had sex before. I need someone to be gentle and careful. I can’t h-’ ‘Woah, woah, baby, relax. I’m not gonna, like, tie you up and punish you and stuff. I’m not evil. But I might not be able to do all the nice stuff that Hyunjin does, like the soft kisses and the compliments and shit,’ he says, and I let out a frustrated huff.

‘So I’m about to lose my virginity to a ‘hard-dom’ demon who won’t give me any kisses or compliments or any of the stuff that makes your first time actually enjoyable? Great!’ I exclaim as my eyes fill with tears, voice shaky, and his face drops with panic. ‘Don’t cry, sweetheart, don’t cry!’ he says, moving up the bed to wipe the tears from my face, ‘I’ll try my best, I promise, but that stuff doesn’t come naturally to me. You might have to just remind me to go a little slower on you, or be a little gentler.’ I nod, wiping away my tears embarrassedly, letting out a little laugh.

‘God, this is so humiliating. We’re supposed to be having sex, and instead I’m crying to you,’ I say miserably, and he lets out a gentle chuckle. ‘Don’t worry about it, baby. I have girls crying all the time. Usually it’s when I’m fucking them, but it’s still tears. Crying, I can deal with,’ he says gently, making me laugh. ‘We don’t have to have sex straight away. You’ve got me for a few hours, sweetheart, so we can slowly work up to it. This is new for both of us, remember? So it’s best we don’t rush straight into it. Don’t panic,’ he murmurs, brushing my hair back from my face with a soft hand, and I nod, feeling a little better. At least he’s nice.

‘Why’d you wanna lose your virginity, sweetheart?’ ‘Did Hyunjin not tell you?’ ‘He showed me the picture of you, said you were a virgin and asked me to do him a solid. I didn’t ask for the backstory.’ ‘I’ve got a date with this guy, Seonghwa, in a few days. He’s taking me to our friend’s Halloween party – apparently Hyunjin’s going too – and he’s like this absolutely gorgeous Sex God. I want to have sex with him, but I doubt he’ll want to fuck an inexperienced virgin,’ I explain, Jisung listening intently, nodding in all the right places. ‘Ah, right. So you need to know at least a little about what to expect with Sex God Seonghwa?’ ‘Yep, and I literally don’t know the first thing about sex.’

‘Not a single thing?’ he asks, and I shake my head sheepishly. ‘Someone as hot as you has never had any… sexual encounters?’ ‘Nope. By choice, because I’ve never met a man that’s interested in me that isn’t trash, but still.’ ‘No boyfriends or girlfriends, nothing?’ ‘None.’ ‘Have you at least kissed someone before?’ he asks, sounding a little surprised, and I shake my head. ‘Never.’ ‘Have you masturbated?’ he asks bluntly, the question making me a little flustered. ‘I tried a couple times, but I never made myself… cum,’ I tell him shyly, the last word coming out quieter, and his eyes widen. ‘A couple times? Seriously? You’re, like… totally pure. Fuck, I don’t know if this is a good idea,’ he says slowly, making me panic again. ‘Hyunjin would’ve been perfect for this. I can’t take your first kiss, let alone have sex with you for the first time. Maybe I should ask Hyunjin to swap his schedule with me, he should be the one to do this,’ he says, as though he’s thinking out loud, and he pulls his phone out of his pocket.

Something makes me stop him, my hand reaching out to cover his phone without a second thought, and he looks up at me in surprise. ‘I… I want it to be you, though. This… might be a learning curve for you. Might be good for you to try something new,’ I say hesitantly, and Jisung raises an eyebrow. ‘You’re so innocent, sweetheart. The fact that you think that makes it even more obvious that it shouldn’t be me. You’re the perfect girl, y/n, and I’m not the perfect guy. Hyunjin is,’ he says, an echo of… sadness in his voice, and my heart goes out to him. ‘I don’t want the perfect guy, though. I know we only just met, like two minutes ago, but I want it to be you,’ I say quietly, and he just stares at me for a moment, in deep thought, before he sighs.

‘This isn’t a good idea,’ he murmurs gently, hand coming up to my face. ‘Losing my virginity to a sex demon of any kind isn’t a good idea, but I’m still doing it,’ I reply gently as he caresses my face tenderly, fingers splayed on my cheek and thumb resting on my bottom lip, and he lets out a little laugh. ‘Okay. If this is what you want, who am I to deny you? Just… remember to tell me if you need me to stop,’ he murmurs, hand still on my face, and I nod at him, trying to calm my nerves.

‘You’re… so fucking pretty. I’d love to fucking ruin you, sweetheart. Turn you from a pure innocent angel into a desperate little cockslut. Tease you and edge you and play with you for hours until you’re begging and crying for my cock, and then, only then, would I absolutely fucking ruin you. Make you cum so many times you can’t see straight, make you forget everything in the world other than my name,’ he says in a low voice, brown eyes becoming tinged with a red glow and hand tightening slightly on my face as he speaks, and I can feel my underwear dampening more and more with each word. I gulp loudly, trying to hide my arousal, but the sound knocks him out of his reverie, his eyes focused on mine.

‘You like the sound of that, huh, baby?’ he asks with a small smirk, and I can’t even bring myself to speak, just giving a quick embarrassed nod. ‘I can tell. I can smell you, how wet you are, how much you want me. Fuck, you’re so fucking innocent, sweetheart. A little bit of dirty talk, and you’ve melted in my hands. If I wasn’t so nice, I’d rip off your clothes, cover you in marks, make you squirm under me, have you screaming and crying and begging for me to let you cum, do anything and everything I wanted to do to you, baby, right this second. But I’m nice, so I won’t, because I’d probably make you pass out if I did. So we’ll start easy, and maybe, if you enjoy tonight… we can save that stuff for round 2, or maybe even round 3. Might be a little too intense for round 2,’ he says gently, and all I can do is nod, too embarrassed about the fact that the filth he’s just spoken about has turned me on so much.

‘Can I take the covers off you, angel? Wanna see you,’ he murmurs gently, and I hesitate. No boy has ever seen me in my underwear, and he must have seen so many naked women before, women that are much more beautiful than me. ‘Oh, no, sweetheart, don’t you dare start thinking things like that. You are fucking gorgeous. You think I’d be here if you weren’t?’ he asks, almost angrily, and my eyes widen with surprise. ‘I can… sense what you’re thinking. Not quite a mind reader, but your scent changes with your thoughts and emotions. So I know that you’re doubting yourself right now, when you shouldn’t. You’re so beautiful, angel,’ he says softly, and I feel a little better after his encouragement, nodding my permission.

The grin that transforms his face is so sexy – dark, and almost evil, but so sexy – and I focus on his handsome face when he takes the covers into his hands, slowly pulling them off me. ‘Sweetheart, you’re in a dressing gown,’ he says amusedly, and I look down at myself, realising that, yes, I am. ‘Oh. I forgot about that,’ I say sheepishly, hands moving to undo the satin cord that I have tied in a bow, but he moves my hands away. ‘Wait. Let me kiss you first,’ he whispers, eyes locked with mine, and he stills, waiting for my permission first. I take a deep breath before nodding, and a small smile lifts his lips up at the corners, his hands coming to rest on either side of my face. My eyes flutter shut when his face comes closer to mine, and it feels like a lifetime before his soft lips brush against mine briefly. My first kiss.

He pulls away, as though to check I’m okay with it, but I lean forward, following his lips, and he lets out a gentle chuckle when our mouths meet again. It’s a foreign feeling – that’s all I can think the first few seconds – and it doesn’t exactly feel amazing. It’s intimate, and comforting, I guess, but not as brilliant as the books and films make it out to be. And then he parts my lips with his, tongue slipping into my mouth, and the world melts away. Pleasure explodes inside me, my body lit aflame with hot desire, and it’s magic, absolute magic. The caress of his lips against mine is so soft, and the warmth from his mouth spreads through me, making me melt into him as my arms come around his shoulders.

The kiss quickly becomes more firm, passionate and hungry, and I just try to follow his lead, feeling my breathing quicken when his hands slide down my body and snake around my waist, pulling me closer to him as our mouths move in sync. His essence floods my senses, and all I can think is that he tastes, smells, feels like night. Crisp and comforting, dark and soft, with the calm of the moon and the beauty of the stars. I’m filled with lust, wanting to feel everything from him if he’s this good at kissing.

He eventually breaks away, leaving me breathless, and when I reopen my eyes, he’s grinning at me. ‘For a girl who’s never kissed someone before, you’re damn good at it,’ he observes, and I must admit, the praise gives me a confidence boost. At least that’s one less thing to worry about with Seonghwa. ‘I’m gonna take your dressing gown off now, okay?’ he says, hands still around my waist, and I nod, keeping my eyes on his as he pulls open the bow. My dressing gown falls open slightly and he slowly slips his hands under the satin, hands landing on my stomach, the contact sending a shiver down my spine.

His hands slide up my torso, quickly passing my boobs and making their way over my shoulders, taking the dressing gown with them, and the satin falls off me, pooling at my elbows which are bent around his shoulders. His breath catches in his throat as his eyes trawl over my exposed body, adorned in the black lace lingerie that Yeji made me buy a few weeks ago. ‘Fuck, wow, you’re so pretty,’ he breathes out, hands trailing down to my waist, ‘Sex God Seonghwa’s a lucky guy.’

He leans in again, my eyes fluttering shut when his lips press against mine, harsher and rougher this time. His hands slide around my back, pulling me down against the bed so he can hover over me as his tongue glides over mine, making me feel numb. He holds himself up with one forearm pressing into the bed beside me, hand curled up into a fist, whilst the other hand roams up and down the side of my body, the satin of my dressing gown gliding across my skin with each movement he makes. He pulls my bottom lip between his teeth, so hard that I feel him drawing blood, and my mind turns to mush as he laves his tongue over where blood blooms from the sensitive skin, making me let out a gentle whimper against his lips.

‘Fuck, you’re so cute,’ he says against my lips, voice laced with amusement as he rolls us over so that I lay atop him, my body fitting into his like puzzle pieces. His hands slide down my back, squeezing my ass and making me let out a little gasp into his mouth. ‘You sound so pretty, baby,’ he says as he breaks away from me, lips landing on my jaw and slowly trailing down my neck. He sucks and bites at my skin as he travels down my body, leaving faint marks in his wake. I let out shaky whimpers and whines as he kisses and bites my skin, fingers tangled into his soft blond locks.

His mouth trails past my chest and down my tummy, and my stomach clenches with nerves when he reaches the waistband of my pants, the boy stilling and looking up at me with his big eyes. ‘Are you nervous, angel?’ he asks softly, and I hesitate before nodding, feeling like an idiot, and his lips quirk up into a small smile. He lifts himself up into a sitting position and pulls my legs into his lap, running his hands up and down them soothingly. ‘Stop feeling embarrassed about being nervous. It’s normal – you’re not weird. Just relax,’ he says gently, and I nod, trying to take his words on board. It’s normal. It’s totally normal.

He removes my legs from his lap and moves up the bed, sitting beside me with his back against the headboard. ‘Come sit here, sweetheart,’ he says, patting the space between his legs, and I move myself into the space, my hands resting on his thighs as he snakes his arms around me, pulling my back against his front. I feel his lips land on my neck, making me tilt my head to allow him better access, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of his kisses, and his hands slide down my stomach and under my legs. He pulls my legs up to bend at the knee before slipping his hands between my thighs, parting them. ‘You know the colour system?’ he asks, and I hesitate before replying, ‘yeah. Green to say I’m good, yellow to say I need a break, and red to say I need to stop.’ ‘Good girl,’ he replies, rewarding me with a gentle kiss on my cheek.

‘I’m gonna finger you, baby, loosen you up and prep you for my cock. Is that okay?’ he murmurs against my ear, arousal flooding my underwear as I nod. ‘Words, sweetheart. I wanna hear that you’re okay with it,’ he prompts, and I breathe out, ‘yes. It’s okay.’ His hand slips down between my legs, fingertips gliding across my saturated underwear, making me shiver in his arms. ‘Oh, angel, you’re so wet,’ he whispers in wonder, my breaths already becoming shaky with his finger gently running up and down my pants. He doesn’t waste much time before sliding his hand beneath my underwear, his teasing promptly finishing with his fingers gliding across my wet folds. He quickly finds my clit, finger pressing against the bud, and I let out a high whimper, head falling back against him.

He lets out a gentle chuckle, warm breath fanning across my exposed neck as he rubs at my clit in slow circles, exhilaration filling me. He quickly becomes bored, moving his hand out of my pants and opting to pull them aside instead, exposing my glistening wet pussy to the cool air of the room, a shudder running through me. He slides a finger in slowly, my body reacting to the unfamiliar intrusion by clenching my walls around him, and he doesn’t move at all for a few moments, letting me getting used to the unusual feeling.

‘Fuck, you’re so tight. Gonna break my finger. Shit, can’t wait to stretch out this tight little virgin cunt,’ he whispers against my ear, cutting my whine short when he starts to slowly slide his finger in and out of me. The feeling soon starts to become pleasurable rather than weird, my walls not clenching as hard so as to let his finger in, and he takes advantage of it, sliding in another finger with the first. ‘Jisung!’ I moan out desperately, eyes falling shut at the feeling of him rocking two thick fingers into me, arousal gushing out onto his skin.

He curls his fingers inside me, the intense pleasure making me clamp my thighs shut around his hand as I whine, and he chuckles, pushing them apart. He hooks one leg with his own, keeping it restrained from meeting the other, which he holds with a strong hand, cold rings digging into my skin. ‘So sensitive, sweetheart,’ he says amusedly, curling his fingers again and hitting the spot inside me that makes me whine his name pathetically. And then he begins to rub his palm against my clit with each movement of his hand, making me lose my mind, my mouth falling open as my head presses into his shoulder, back arching away from him.

I squirm between his legs, but he holds me in place, fingers continuing to thrust into me at a gradually quickening pace, whine after whimper slipping out from my lips as Jisung whispers filth into my ear. ‘Look at you, baby, grinding down on my hand. Feels good, huh?’ he asks in a cocky tone and, sure enough, when I force myself to open my eyes, I see that I’m grinding against his fingers unconsciously, each movement of my hips resulting in his hand brushing my clit and sending a gentle wave of pleasure through me. ‘So good, Jisung, so good. Want more,’ I whine, and he chuckles, pressing his lips to my neck and sucking the skin into his mouth, making my eyes flutter shut once again.

‘You want more? Don’t tempt me, angel, because I could give you a lot more right now. We’re taking it slow, remember?’ he whispers against my skin, but the words barely go in, my focus on unfamiliar feeling of my stomach tightening. ‘Jisung, I feel weird,’ I say, feeling nervous, and he lets out a gentle laugh against my neck. ‘You’re getting close to your orgasm, sweetheart,’ he tells me amusedly, the revelation making my eyes widen. I’ve never heard of a girl having an orgasm her first time. ‘Baby, you really thought I was gonna leave without making you cum a couple times? I’m not like those pathetic little human boys. I know how to make a girl feel good, angel, so good she’ll only ever want me. We’ll see how Sex God Seonghwa compares, huh?’ he laughs arrogantly, fingers beginning to pump in and out of me furiously fast, obscene squelching filling my ears along with my own high-pitched whimpers and moans.

‘I’m gonna…’ I breathe out between moans, clenching around his finger sporadically as my body twitches against his, and I can feel him grinning against my skin. ‘That’s a good girl, cum over my fingers for me, angel. It’s gonna feel so good, baby, just let go. Cum for me, y/n,’ he murmurs softly, voice just about discernible over my loud moaning, and when he begins rubbing at my clit with his free hand as he curls his fingers inside me, I feel the knot in my stomach undo itself.

I cry out his name as my vision blurs, walls clenching around his fingers and holding them in place with an iron-like grip. He works me through my orgasm with quick circles at my clit, lips sucking and biting at my skin, providing me with a gentle bliss in comparison to the intense pleasure burning low in my stomach. When I feel myself coming back down from my high, I let out a gentle sigh, body relaxing back into his, and he slowly pulls his hand from inside me. I crane my neck to watch as he lifts his hand to his mouth, slipping the fingers that were inside me into his mouth, eyes closing as he lets out a low groan. ‘You taste so sweet, even sweeter than you smell,’ he says once he’s pulled his fingers out of his mouth, sliding his arms around my body and pressing his lips to mine in a brief kiss.

‘How did I do?’ I ask, voice coming out a little quieter and hoarser than I expected, and he lets out a gentle laugh. ‘So well, angel. You took it so well. Like a pro,’ he says in a tender voice, holding me close in his arms, and I find it hard to believe this guy is a hard dom. He’s a total softie. ‘You did well too,’ I say to try and deflect from how I’m preening at the praise, and he laughs as though I’ve surprised it out of him.

‘No, don’t laugh! I’m being serious! You were super soft and gentle and nice to me,’ I tell him, and he nods, lips curled up with amusement. ‘It took a lot of self-restraint, believe me. If you weren’t so… fragile, and delicate, I’d have shoved my cock in you before you’d even finished cumming,’ he says, gentle tone a total contrast to the words that come out of his mouth, and I raise an eyebrow. ‘Are you sure? You seem… relaxed. Not worked up at all,’ I say honestly, trying not to let on that I feel a little embarrassed about how calm he is (aren’t boys supposed to get all riled up and desperate the second they see your bra?), and he raises an eyebrow in return.

Without warning, he grinds against my back, and I feel something hard poke against me, making my eyes widen. ‘Does that feel like I’m relaxed, baby? Does that feel like I’m not worked up?’ he whispers, eyes flickering red, and I’m rendered speechless for a moment. He must have been so uncomfortable, pleasuring me whilst he was that hard in those tight jeans. ‘Let me help you,’ I breathe out, and his lips quirk up. ‘Help me?’ ‘Mmhmm. Tell me… tell me what to do. Wanna make you feel as good as you made me feel,’ I say softly, and he grins at me. ‘You’re so sweet, angel. I feel bad doing this with you. Feel like I’m… corrupting you. Tainting your pure soul,’ he murmurs, eyes flitting from my eyes to my lips and back up to my eyes, mouth curled at the corners as though he doesn’t feel as bad about it as he claims to. ‘Maybe I want you to… corrupt me, and taint me,’ I whisper, and his grin grows even wider, eyes flashing red and making my stomach turn. ‘Well, I suppose… your wish is my command, baby.’

I turn over and sit on my knees, eyes wandering down to between his legs, and the massive bulge in his jeans makes my heart stop for a moment, Jisung smirking at my reaction, leaning back against the headboard with his arms behind his head, as though he owns the place. I realise then that he’s expecting a blowjob that’s at least half decent, and I don’t know the first thing about giving a blowjob except for the fact that it goes into my mouth and I suck on it (I think?). ‘Want me to talk you through it, sweetheart?’ he asks, voice soft, and I know he can sense my uncertainty. He lets out a gentle chuckle when I nod, trying to hide my embarrassment.

‘Unzip my jeans, angel,’ he prompts, and I shuffle forward, slowly reaching for the zip on his jeans, and pulling it down carefully. He lifts his hips up from the bed, and I get the message, slipping my fingers beneath the waistband of his jeans, tugging them down along with his boxers, leaving them bunched at the tops of his thighs. My eyes widen when I see his cock, the long, thick length springing up against his clothed t-shirt, the tip red and swollen with small beads of precum leaking from it. I can feel his eyes on me, watching my reaction with thinly veiled amusement, and I try to hide my… surprise.

Every cock I’ve ever seen before has always been kinda ugly – all those unsolicited dick pics taken in shitty lighting with feet in the background always made me feel a little sick – but Jisung’s is… a little different. My mouth actually waters looking at it – it’s the most aesthetically pleasing dick I’ve ever seen. ‘Take it into your hand, sweetheart, and spread my precum over the tip so it’s not totally dry. Or the friction will hurt,’ he instructs in a gentle tone, as though he’s telling me the steps of a recipe or reading from the manual of an Ikea wardrobe.

I do as he says, taking his cock into my hands and using my thumb to spread around the precum, feeling a little bit of pride when his breath catches in his throat, his body tensing very slightly. ‘That’s it, that’s a good girl. Okay, now put the tip in your mouth, just swirl your tongue around it a little and suck on it,’ he says, and I nod, taking a deep breath before lowering my head to his cock. Yeji gave me some advice before leaving earlier, and so I do as she told me, pressing a kiss to the tip, and he lets out a shaky laugh, followed by, ‘you’re so fucking cute, baby.’

I take the swollen head of his cock into my mouth, his salty precum gliding across my taste buds as I slowly swirl my tongue around him like he’s a lollipop, before gently sucking. ‘Yeah, that’s it, angel, good job. Fuck, that feels nice,’ he murmurs, hands coming to tangle into my hair, pulling it back from my face. I carry on doing what I’m doing for a little while, his little sighs and shaky breaths making me feel like I must be doing it right, and then I look up at him for guidance on what to do next.

‘Lick underneath from the base to the tip – feels good on the vein,’ he says, sounding slightly breathless, and I’m surprised he’s so worked up from having a virgin suck on his cock for a few seconds. I do as he says, placing my tongue at the base of his dick and dragging it along the vein on the underside of his cock, and when I reach the tip, I kitten lick the slit where he’s leaking with precum. ‘Ah, shit, you’re good at this, baby. Sure you haven’t done it before?’ he asks, voice twisting into a groan when I sink my mouth onto him, sucking on the tip briefly before taking him back out with a pop.

‘My friend gave me some tips,’ I say, deciding not to tell him about how she demonstrated with a banana, and made me copy her. Yeah, it’d probably ruin the moment. ‘Good tips. You don’t even need me to talk you through it.’ ‘No, no, I do need you to!’ I say hastily, not wanting to be in the deep end without any arm bands, and he lets out a gentle laugh. ‘Okay, okay. You gotta take me as far into your mouth as you can, angel, okay? Just wanna see how much you can take,’ he says gently, and I nod, readying myself as I duck my head. I take his tip into my mouth and slowly sink further down onto his length, until he hits the back of my throat. He’s so big, too big, and I feel like I’m suffocating, a gag forcing its way up my throat.

‘That’s not all you can take, is it, y/n? Come on, baby, surely you can do better than that?’ he teases as I try to stop myself from gagging again, and I realise that there’s still a few inches of him I haven’t managed to take in. ‘Take me out, sweetheart,’ he says, and relief floods through me, making me pull my mouth off him instantly, holding him with my fingertips as I gulp down air. ‘That’s it, take a nice, deep breath. Good girl. This time, breathe through your nose,’ he tells me, and I nod, preparing myself to take him into my mouth again.

I wrap my lips around his length and slide my mouth down onto him, desperately holding back a gag when he hits the back of my throat again. ‘Okay, good girl. Now swallow – it’ll let you take me further,’ he instructs, and I inhale deeply through my nose before swallowing, his tip inching down my throat. ‘Good job, baby, well done. You gonna suck for me, now?’ he asks, and I nod, sucking on his length and bobbing my head up and down like Yeji taught me, tugging on what I can’t fit into my mouth in my hands gently. ‘That’s it, angel – fuck, just like that,’ he urges, and I try my hardest to maintain eye contact with him, looking up through teary lashes.

I continue at a steady pace, gradually taking more of him in as my throat gets used to the intrusion, and I feel myself thinking that this isn’t… the most pleasant experience. I mean, I’m not getting much air, he’s tugging on my hair quite hard, his cock is so thick that my jaw is already starting to ache, and I feel a bit dirty with the way saliva drips down my chin. But his reactions make it all worth it. He lets out soft grunts and groans, the blood vessels in his neck protruding with the strain of holding himself back – I assume – and his head is thrown back against the headboard.

‘Ah, shit, you’re so good, baby. Feels so good,’ he groans, and I can feel that he’s slowly losing his resolve – his hips twitch every now and then, forcing him even further into my mouth, and his grip on my hair becomes harsher and harsher, his moaning becoming more and more frequent. I’m trying my best to keep up with him, keep him satisfied, but it’s clear he wants more. It’s only a matter of time before he takes control.

He grips onto the roots of my hair, hard, and he begins to thrust into my mouth. My eyes begin to water as he lets out curses and moans, hips bucking up frantically, and I try my hardest to throat him and hold back gags. He suddenly pulls out, and I take the moment to gasp for air, feeling him grinning at me. ‘That’s it, angel, breathe. Gonna fuck this pretty little mouth,’ he says, barely giving me a chance to do as he says before he pulls me back down onto his cock, the tip sliding against my tongue and hitting the back of my mouth harshly, a loud gag forcing its way up my throat as I look up at him, his eyebrow raised.

‘Come on, baby, you can take more than that. Can’t you?’ he asks amusedly, and I want nothing more than to please him, to impress him, and I try to hum out a response, the vibrations making him buck further into my throat with a low groan. ‘One tap on my thigh for yellow, two taps for green. Practice,’ he instructs, and I rush to do so, tapping once, and then tapping twice, before looking up at him for praise. ‘Good girl. Well done,’ he murmurs, pride swelling within me, and he takes the moment of me being distracted to start the onslaught on my mouth.

Using the hands tangled in my hair, he pushes my head down onto him, all the way so my nose hits his skin, and I choke around him as he thrusts in and out of my mouth, treating me like I’m just a hole for his pleasure. Maybe he’s not such a softie. ‘So good for me, baby, letting me fuck your mouth like this. Love hearing you choke on my cock,’ he groans, tears streaming down my face as I throat his entire length, nose hitting the soft skin of his groin with each of his thrusts, loud gags and chokes making their way out of my mouth every time he hits the back of my throat.

‘So pretty with my cock in your throat,’ he grunts, dick beginning to twitch in my mouth which, according to Yeji, means that he’s getting close, and I moan around him at his words, the vibrations making him moan out too, the sound heavenly. ‘Doing so well, sweetheart, taking me like such a good girl. You like choking on my cock, huh?’ he asks, and I realise that, yes, I do like it. It’s painful and I’m desperate for a deep breath, but listening to him moan makes me wanna suck his cock for hours on end. ‘Love it,’ I mumble around his cock, the words just about discernible, and he chuckles. ‘Gonna turn you into my little cock-hungry slut, always desperate to suck me. Is that what you want, angel? Wanna be my little cockslut?’ he asks, and I mindlessly moan at his words, arousal dripping out from me as I feel my head getting light with a lack of oxygen.

‘Shit, I’m close. Gonna let me cum in your mouth, sweetheart?’ he asks, and I hum out permission, his pace increasing again, and my neck hurts from the way he bobs my head up and down on him, my jaw also aching from the girth of his cock. His thrusts are becoming messy, hips jerking erratically as his cock twitches in my mouth, and I suddenly remember a piece of Yeji’s advice. I lift my hand from where it rests on the bed and reach for his balls, rolling them in my palm, playing with them to bring him to his edge. ‘Fuck, y/n, I’m gonna-’ he groans, words cut off with a loud moan as he pushes my head down onto his cock and cums, his hot and thick release hitting the back of my throat. He thrusts shallowly through his orgasm, my hand still playing with his balls, and it’s like he has an endless amount of cum, my mouth full of it when he pulls out, a little bit of it trickling down my chin.

‘Open your mouth,’ he says, and I tilt my head back slightly, opening my mouth to let him see his release. ‘And swallow it all for me.’ I let it glide across my taste buds, and it tastes… fruity, almost – a little hint of sweetness in it. I swallow it down in one big gulp and open my mouth to show him, a smug grin settling on his face. ‘Come here,’ he says, holding out his arms and I practically fall into them, letting him pull me against his chest. ‘You did such a good job, angel. I’m sorry for going so rough on you – I lost control a little bit – but you took it so well, baby,’ he says tenderly, hands rubbing soothing circles on my back through my dressing gown.

‘No, it’s okay. Don’t apologise. I… liked it,’ I say shyly, my voice very hoarse, and he lets out a gentle laugh. ‘I know you did, sweetheart, I could smell you getting wetter and wetter the entire time. You can’t even smell it, but your scent is… fucking amazing. I felt drunk on it. The harder I went on you, the stronger your scent was, which made me go even harder. It was a vicious cycle,’ he says amusedly, and I giggle into his chest.

He holds me for a little while, my head buried in his chest and tucked beneath his chin, his hands drawing patterns on my back, and this intimacy I’ve never felt before is just so nice, but I feel myself getting a little… eager, and he must feel it too. ‘You want me to fuck you, baby? Or wanna wait a bit?’ he asks quietly, and I can’t answer quick enough; ‘want you to fuck me.’ ‘You do, huh? Is that how you ask?’ he teases, and I think for a moment before replying in a small voice, ‘please fuck me, Jisung. Just want you.’

‘So forward, angel,’ he murmurs, making me feel even more humiliated than I already am, my face heating up. ‘Don’t be embarrassed. I like you all needy and cute,’ he breathes out, hands coming to my dressing gown and pulling it off me. ‘You’re so beautiful,’ he tells me, throwing the satin gown to the floor before he presses his lips to mine in a quick and hot kiss, lying me down so my head rests on the soft pillow. He climbs up from the bed and I can’t stop myself from watching as he quickly undresses himself, pulling his t-shirt over his head to reveal tan skin pulled tight over hard abs and biceps, and pushing his jeans down his legs to reveal smooth, lean legs. He keeps his underwear on, a grin on his face as he joins me on the bed, climbing over me.

His hands slip beneath my back, fingers coming to the clasp of my bra, and it snaps me into reality, making me panic. ‘Don’t worry, sweetheart. You’re so beautiful. Wanna see all of you… if you’ll let me. What’s your colour?’ he asks, and I hesitate. I could end this all now – surely I’ve got enough experience for Seonghwa, and he’ll probably be too drunk or high to even look at my body the way Jisung wants to. But I find myself wanting to. Not for the experience but… because it’s Jisung. I want him to see me, and I want to see him… feel him.

‘Green,’ I whisper, his lips curling into a grin as he unclasps my bra, helping me to pull it off. He throws it over his shoulder and doesn’t instantly ogle my chest as I expected, instead ducking his head to add to the marks that are already beginning to purple. He slowly kisses down to my chest, lips attaching to one hard nipple and sucking on it as he takes my other breast into his hand, alternating between tugging at the nipple and groping it gently. I let out gentle whines, his attention on my breasts making my head light, and he brings his mouth the other nipple, swapping his hand to spread the saliva he left behind across the soft flesh of my breast.

‘Such pretty tits, angel. Wanna worship your body,’ he murmurs as he leans back with an admiring gaze, my nipples hard and peaked in the cool air. ‘But that’ll have to wait. Wanna fuck you more,’ he grins, hands sliding down from my chest to my underwear, checking with me again that I’m okay with it. ‘You can take them off,’ I breathe out and he wastes no time before tugging them down. He runs his hands up my legs before slipping them between my thighs, slowly parting them with his eyes on me to watch my reactions, to make sure I’m okay. When I don’t react, his gaze flits to between my legs, eyes darkening.

‘Fuck, such a pretty little pussy. Soaking wet. So tiny, and tight. How am I gonna fit in you, baby?’ he muses teasingly, and I feel desperation seeping into me, my hands reaching down to his and guiding them towards where I need him. ‘Please. Need it, Jisung, please,’ I whimper pathetically, and he lets out a gentle laugh, warm breath fanning across my stomach. ‘What do you need, y/n?’ he asks, and I whine, too embarrassed to say the words. His fingers appear at my folds, gliding between them and gathering up my arousal before he pushes two in, making me moan with the stretch. ‘I asked you what you need, angel,’ he prompts, voice less light, and I whimper as he scissors his fingers inside me, trying to loosen me. ‘Please, Jisung, want you to fuck me. Wanna feel your cock in me, want you to stretch me out, make me cum,’ I mumble distractedly, saying what I need to say to get what I want, and I hear him take a shaky breath.

‘Dirty girl. Pretended to be so innocent when you’re really a dirty little slut desperate for cock, huh? So desperate for Sex God Seonghwa’s cock that you’ll lose your virginity demon. Such a little whore,’ he murmurs, and even though his words should hurt, all I can do is moan, feeling more arousal gush out around his fingers. ‘You really want me to fuck you? Little angel wants a good fucking?’ he teases, the pace of his fingers thrusting into me quickening, and my hips buck up against him as I whine, ‘yes, want it, Jisung, want it so bad.’

‘Want me to stuff my fat cock into this little virgin cunt? Stretch out your tight little pussy, fuck you so hard you can’t walk, fill you up with my cum?’ he asks, voice strained as he fucks his fingers into me, and I squirm on the bed desperately, needing to feel him. ‘Yes, Jisung, please, want it so bad,’ I whimper pathetically, and he pulls his fingers out of me, lifting them to his fingers and licking them clean, making my stomach turn with arousal. ‘Not as much of an angel as I thought,’ he considers with a small smirk, eyes trawling over my body indulgently as I lie there, on display for him.

He climbs over me, pushing down his boxers and tugging on his length with one hand, anticipation filling me. ‘Legs around my waist, sweetheart,’ he murmurs, suddenly nice again, and I do so, hooking them together at the ankles, giving him full access to my core. ‘Ready? It might hurt a little, okay, so use your colours if you need to, angel,’ he says tenderly, and I nod, feeling a little bit of anxiety grow in my chest.

He runs the tip of his rock hard cock up and down my folds teasingly, spreading his precum over me, before he slowly pushes in. I try my hardest to stay quiet, to brave the pain of the burning stretch, but I can’t help the little yelp that escapes my lips. ‘You okay?’ ‘Hurts, Jisung,’ I whisper, tears appearing in my eyes, and his face softens. ‘The tip’s the worst bit, angel, and it’s nearly in. Want me to hold on a minute?’ he asks, and I think before shaking my head. ‘It’s okay, you can… go all the way in,’ I say gently, and he gives me a gentle smile, ducking his head to my collarbones to press soothing kisses on my skin as he pushes further in. I whimper in pain, tears sliding down my face, because it hurts, so fucking bad. My walls are clenching around him, desperately trying to get his cock out of me, and my head is starting to get a little dizzy with the pain, crying audibly now as I clutch onto his strong back.

‘You’re doing so well, angel, so fucking well. Colour?’ he asks, and I sob out, ‘yellow.’ He instantly stops moving and I try my best to stop clenching around him, eventually becoming used to the stretch as my walls relax a little, Jisung kissing away my tears and whispering gentle praise against my skin. ‘Okay, green. You can move now,’ I breathe out, voice hoarse and he presses a little kiss to my lips. ‘Good girl. I’m nearly in. But don’t look. Just trust me,’ he says quickly, and I raise an eyebrow at him. ‘How much left?’ I ask, and he winces. ‘About half,’ he replies, and I feel my face fall as he sighs. ‘We can sto-’ ‘No, no. I want it. Want you,’ I whisper, and he nods with a small smile.

He suddenly slips two fingers into my mouth, making me look at him in confusion. ‘Suck on my fingers to distract you from the pain,’ he says, and I nod, doing as he says and tasting something sweet on his skin, realising with a start that it’s my own arousal I can taste. He begins pushing further in, slowly, and it doesn’t hurt as much now, the stretch only burning a little. I can feel it when he bottoms out, a sigh of relief escaping my lips, and he grins at me. ‘You’ve done so well, angel, I’m so proud of you. Tell me when I can move,’ he says, and I nod, taking a few deep breaths. It takes a little while to get used to being so full, and arousal suddenly fills me at the thought that he’s buried in me balls-deep, my walls clenching tightly around him.

I don’t realise the effect it’s having on him until he speaks, taking me by surprise. ‘Fuck, y/n, you gotta stop clenching around me. Gonna make me cum quick like I’m the fucking virgin here. Can I- fuck, I gotta move. Can I move? Need to fuck you,’ he pleads, voice strained, his head resting on my shoulder and his hand digging into my waist, and I’m shocked at how… submissive he sounds, begging me to fuck me. He’s got all the power here – he could fuck me dumb right now – but he’s asking me for permission. It’s so hot that I nearly moan out at his words, pussy gushing with arousal. ‘Yes, you can move, please. Fuck, please move,’ I whimper around his fingers, the words coming out all garbled, and I’m so desperate for him now.

He removes his fingers from my mouth, both hands digging into my waist now, and he doesn’t waste much time before pulling out slightly and rolling his hips against mine, making me let out a moan of his name. I can sense he’s restraining himself – opting to thrust shallowly rather than slamming into me as I’d expected him to do – and it seems it’s taking every inch of his self-control to do so, his entire body tensed and little grunts falling from his lips. ‘You’re so fucking tight, angel. Wanna pound your tight little virgin cunt,’ he groans, and my head falls back against the pillow. ‘Do it, please. Want you to ruin me,’ I beg, and he lets out a strangled moan. ‘Use your colours if it’s too much,’ he forces out, waiting for the reply with a small, ‘okay’ before he loses himself.

He pulls all the way out of me before slamming back in, my mouth falling open in a silent scream as he lets out a moan of my name. He sets a bruisingly fast pace, the bed hitting the wall loudly with each of his thrusts. ‘So fucking tight around me. Gonna stretch out this tiny little cunt, gonna make you my little cockslut,’ he growls, forcing the words out with effort, his energy being taken up by thrusting into me, and it’s the most painful pleasure I’ve ever felt. I’m rendered speechless, unable to make a noise other than the little breaths that escape my lips, not even having enough sanity to moan for him.

One of his hands comes to my throat, roughly squeezing my airways and cutting off my breathing, making me choke and gasp as he hammers into me, heavy balls slapping against my damp skin. My nails dig hard into the skin of his back, the soreness between my legs slowly melting away into unadulterated pleasure, tears dripping down my face as a release for how overwhelmed I am. ‘Fuck, need to go deeper,’ he grunts, grabbing one of my legs and moving it between our bodies, the ankle resting on his shoulder, and this new angle allows him to go even deeper, brushing against the spongy spot inside me and making me let out a loud shriek of his name.

‘Found your voice, angel? Thought I’d fucked you stupid. But my good little slut can handle it, right? You can take my cock in this tiny virgin pussy, can’t you, baby?’ he growls, and my eyes roll back at the feeling of his cock dragging against my walls deliciously. Obscene squelching and skin slapping against skin fills the room along with my moans and whimpers, and his grunts and groans, the smell of sex heavy on the air as he abuses my pussy, the pleasure that’s coursing through my veins drowning out the pain of how much my body is straining to accommodate him.

‘Fucking gushing around me. Soaking my cock little a good little slut. Bet you’ve dreamed of being fucked like this, huh? Tried to fill your little pussy with your fingers, imagining yourself as a desperate little whore stuffed with a fat cock? Am I right, angel? Not as innocent as you pretend to be, huh? Just needed someone to come corrupt you,’ he growls against my ear, cock hammering into me relentlessly, my walls clenching around him as he lowers his mouth to my neck, kissing beneath where his hand is still gripping me tightly, my head light with the lack of air. He obviously takes my unrestrained moaning as an answer, pushing me down into the mattress and pounding into me bruisingly hard.

‘So fucking tight around me, baby, I can’t cope. Wanna stay buried in this tiny little pussy forever. Scream out my name, angel. Let everyone in your block know how good I’m making you feel, how hard I’m fucking your tight cunt. Let them know you’re not the pure little girl you claim to be,’ he growls, loosening his hold on my throat, and I can’t help but do as he says, crying his name repeatedly like a mantra. I can feel the knot in my stomach tightening again, knowing my orgasm is approaching again, my walls clenching around him and my nails raking down his back viciously. ‘You’re close, huh, angel? You gonna cum for me? Gonna soak my cock like a good little slut? Come on, baby, cum for me. Cum all over my cock,’ he prompts, hand snaking down to rub at my clit, and when he hits the spot inside me head-on, I reach my high.

I scream out his name, so loud and raw that it feels like it’s being torn out of my throat, my own voice filling my ears as I cum around him, walls clenched around him so tightly that he can’t move, and so he rubs at my clit to prolong my orgasm, release gushing out around him. White hot bliss courses through me, my vision completely blurring as tears stream down my face, mouth hanging open as I rake my nails down his back, breaking the skin.

When I finally begin coming down from an intense high, my walls loosening around him, he starts to chase his own high, no concern for me beneath him. He slams into me, again and again, the bed probably denting the wall, and I feel overstimulation setting in, making me sob as I thrash beneath him. But he doesn’t care, one hand pressing into the bed and the other reappearing at my neck, pushing me down into the mattress as he fucks into me, grunts and groans falling from his lips, and when my vision finally clears, I nearly cum again at the sight of him.

His blond hair is stuck to his forehead with sweat, his skin drenched with perspiration, a glistening honey colour, mouth open and letting out whispers of my name, lips swollen and shining. His eyes are glowing red, blood red, and his face is flushed, contorted with pleasure. His biceps ripples with the effort of thrusting into me, desperate whines escaping his lips as he chases his high, body tensed and strong. He looks like sin incarnate.

He’s nearing his orgasm, I think – his dick is twitching inside me, and I tighten around him, his hips stuttering with erratic thrusts. ‘Fuck, angel, I’m gonna cum! Gonna cum in your tight little pussy! So good for me, baby, so good,’ he moans loudly, making my lips curl proudly, before he buries himself deep in me, head dropping to my neck as he lets out a cry of, ‘shit, y/n, I’m gonna cum!’ He bites down on my skin as he cums, his thick release painting my insides. And there’s so much of it, an endless amount of cum flooding into me, and my sensitive walls fluttering around him help prolong his high, milking his cock for all he has as he whines desperately, thrusting shallowly.

Once he’s done, he pulls his softened cock out of me, looking down at me with concern all over his face. His eyes have returned to their warm chocolate brown, and they’re full of worry. ‘I’m so sorry, y/n, I wasn’t supposed to be that rough. Are you okay?’ he asks, and I just smile tiredly. ‘I’m fine, Jisung. I would’ve stopped you if it was too much, but it was perfect,’ I reply, a yawn interrupting my last few words, and he heaves a sigh of relief. ‘If you say so, angel. But still, I shouldn’t have been that rough. Hyunjin’s gonna kill me,’ he mutters before leaning down to press a kiss to my sore lips.

‘Right, let’s clean you up,’ he murmurs, and I’m already half asleep when he climbs off me, pulling his underwear back up over his cock. He scoops me up into his arms, carrying me to the bathroom, and he makes me do a wee first, so I don’t get a UTI. I nearly fall asleep on the toilet. Then he carries me back into bed and cleans over my whole body with a soft towel, soaking up all the tears and sweat and cum.

‘You’ve done so well, angel, such a good job. You can sleep now,’ he whispers as he pulls the covers over me, but I grab his hand when he turns to leave, barely able to keep my eyes open enough to look at him. ‘Are you leaving?’ I mumble, and he lets out a soft laughs. ‘Why? Want me to stay?’ ‘Yes. Please,’ I breathe out with the last bit of energy I have, and he sighs gently, hesitating before he climbs into bed with me. I instantly curl into him and he chuckles, pulling me into his arms. I just about feel the kiss he presses to my forehead before I drift off to sleep.

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rosyerim · 3 years

Text

bad boy au | na jaemin

na jaemin, the notorious playboy of his school

literally flirts his way out of trouble

his english teacher caught his cheating during his test and what did jaemin do? wink and slide the paper up his sleeves

“ah you must be mistaken i would never cheat on a test! esp w a teacher as pretty as you ♥ ~(◠‿◕✿)”

cue the teacher blushin and letting him off and jeno laughing at him getting caught

part of the dreamie squad obviously

the whole group of them are absolute hearthrobs

but jaemin is like the leader ever since mark graduated ot7(╥﹏╥)o

whenever he walks down the hall or into class, guaranteed the students are squealing and highkey blushing

i mean who isn’t, jaemin is a god???

he’s also known for playing around w girls and boys

its never too serious as jaemin always cuts it off when if they say i love you

homeboy isn’t about that committed life

which sucks for the ppl he has a thing with

because he treats them so good

always taking them out on the cutest dates, to the newest cafe, the aquarium, the ice cream shop even simple dates in the park!!

pulling out their chair for them, holding the door open for them all that gentleman ish!!

but they always want more from jaemin

jaemin is known to be affectionate w his own friends but he’s never done any pda with his flings

which confuses them bc??does jaemin like me??

the answer is; no

despite what he says while flirting he rarely means any of it, he just likes the reactions he gets like,

when he compliments them and they turn red

or he holds their hand and they get all shy

but he loses interest in them as quickly as he gets it and is quick to cut it off

which does make him a bit of an asshole in that sense

but he does it in such a nice way they can’t get mad

he also dyes his hair so!!much!!

how hasn’t it fallen out yet!!!

also kind of a stoner

psa; dont do drugs kids if ur underage!! this is just an au!!!

he likes to get faded behind the abandoned carnival the dreamies have dubbed as their hangout

its rlly just a closed down amusement park thats rlly old and they just spray painted DREAM on everything they could find but the dreamies love the eerie feeling they get in ther and like to pretend they own it

AND theirs no cops around so they can do what they like

which usually means getting crossfaded or having the occasional bonfire/party but most of the time they just get a truckload of candy and challenge each other on pokemon w their nintendos lol

he also likes the feeling of his surroundings being numb and always ends up falling asleep after he finishes a blunt

which leaves a sleepy and clingy jaemin stuck w the rest of the dreamies

jaemin doesn’t let himself smoke around his flings as he doesn’t trust them nearly as much as his boys

lowkey has trust issues

but once he gets his daily dose of coffee, like 3000 shots of espresso he is A W A K E

the dreamies are the worst for almost getting in trouble

when it gets dark they usually hop on their bikes, grab two bottles of spray paint each, and go on into their neighbourhood, whilst playing obnixous dubstep from their speakers

and cause total chaos

they always leave dogs barking and house lights turning on in their wake as they cycle like mad men down the empty streets, streaking the road with luminous pinks and greens

they get the biggest thrill out of being chased by the local police

whenever the hear the telltale siren they all whoop and laugh in unison, shouting out bets on who will get caught first chenle and who’ll get back to the hangout first renjun

it’s dangerous but they get a real kick out of it and always make sure to tweet about and post it on ig

overall jaemin is jus your average bad boy who likes causing havoc

but who doesn’t like havoc??

you, my dear reader :))

you had just moved house and into a completely new neighborhood

it was your fifth day in your new home and you missed your old area a lottt

and you were highkey bitter bc you didn’t want to move but your parents made you >:((

so sunday night rolls around and you were chilling in bed, watching some dumb yt video when all of sudden in the distance you heard,,,thumping,,,

like really ugly but rhythmic thumping,,,

and it was getting louder and closer to your house

so you being all investigative, throw on your hoodie and waddle on downstairs and open your front door, the porch light turning on automatically

and what you saw was a sight

there were a group of boys cycling up and down your street, attempting to do tricks like wheelies???and shit

but as they did their tricks they were spraying the ground so they left a lot of squiggly lines as they turned and jumped

you didn’t mind that, you thought it was actually kind of pretty

but what wasn’t pretty was that hideous music

you were pretty sure they were playing that im blue dabdeeda song but a dubstepped remix version

and god it was awful

but you kinda assumed they must have gona tone deaf bc they were screeching the lyrics to the tops of the voices and one tall kid was trying to freestyle to it

yeah, they were a sight

you noticed none of the neighours had come outside which meant this was a normal occurrence??

oh no, you were not having this

without a second thought you shoved your feet into your uggs by the door and stomped your little butt over to the group of screaming boys

one of the boys who was on his phone on his bike, noticed you storming towards them and quickly hit another guy next to him and so on

until all their attention was on you

all six of them

if it were your old neighbourhood you would have been flustered at their attention on you and they were good looking and you were wearing an,,,odd attire

but you didn’t care

once you reached them you just crossed your arms

“whose playing the music?”

they kinda looked at you as if you spoke another language

until you arched an eyebrow and the tall kid from earlier raised his hand, holding his phone

“uh,,, i am,,, i’m jisung,,,”

you marched over to him and swiped his phone, ignoring the laughing from one of the boys, scrolling thru his horrible choice of songs

then one of them tapped you on ur shoulder

“so like,,who are you? whats your deal sis?”

you noted he had quite an ugly bowlcut that was also bright red and you just rolled your eyes, before typing in a decent song in jisungs phone

another kid stepped forward and tried to look menacing as he stood up slightly taller in front of you

“like haechan asked,,what’s your deal? do you know who we are?”

you scoffed and clicked on the song, feeling satisfied as frank oceans song ivy played through the speaker

“frankly i don’t care who you guys are but your taste in music is shit and you all sound obnoxious”

homeboy who tried to seem tough was lowkey shook

and haechan just laughed really sarcastically

“our music taste is shit? your outfit is a mess”

your outfit was literally a large hoodie and uggs but like??your mom bought them and u liked them!!

“my mess of an outfit is worth more than that tragic cheap dye job you got ontop of your scalp smh”

haechan just gaped at you while the boys tried to hide their snickers

you were about to leave before another one of them stepped forward, stretching out his hand

“yo you’re kinda funny, i’m renjun!”

u just stared at his hand

“yeah cool i dont care, bye”

ohhhh cold

you had stalked off from them ignroing their oooo savages behind you, ready to slip back into bed highkey proud of yourself

BUT

not so fast

suddenly your met with a really smiley face with pink hair

he grabs your hand and kisses the back of it giving you his usual, heart stopping smile

“i don’t think i’ve seen you before...i’m jaemin and its very nice to meet you (◕‿-)“

but you are not liking his large ass smile

you rip your hand back and just arch your eyebrow again at him

“are you all actually deaf? I am y/n, and I do not care! goodnight!”

and off you storm, this time actually making it to your door

you spare one more glance at them as you’re closing it

and the group are almost crying bc they’re laughing so hard at jaemin whose looking over at you

and he just winks at as u slam the door shut

damn reader, ur wildt

once you’re back in your room you hear the group disappearing down the street, smiling as you hear frank ocean’s voice float away slowly

you peak out your window to see if they’re all gone but what you see leaves your mouth gaping

there in a mix of luminous pink and greens, spelled out in capitals is

TILL NEXT TIME Y/N ♥

there was gona b a next time??? oh no poor you ;)

#nct dream #nct dream imagines #nct imagines #nct au #jaemin imagines #jaemin scenarios #nct headcanons #jaemin headcanons

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miceandmonsters · 4 years

Text

Orc Boyfriend - Ronar

Male orc x female reader; 5.5k

friends to lovers; first time

You met Ronar first year of college, bonding during a particularly frustrating class taught by an elf who thought a tweed blazer made him a good teacher. What started as mostly the two of you attempting to teach yourselves the required material and swearing creatively, bloomed into your closest friendship during school--one that even lasted past graduation. It, of course, helped that you’d stayed in the same city, both finding jobs and setting up lives less than twenty minutes from each other. You texted or spoke nearly every day and hung out almost as often.

More than once, over the years, both of your families had wondered/pestered about why the two of you weren’t more than friends. Your response never varied over the years. Ronar would always shoot you a pointed look, and you’d return with an exaggerated eye roll that would make him laugh quietly, and the conversation would move on. What you had with Ronar was good. After seeing more than one of your friends from school marry and then end up broken-hearted but a few years later, you were grateful to have Ronar’s dependable, constant, warm presence in your life. And you were nearly able to convince yourself that it was enough.

Nearly.

It was the little things about Ronar that felt the most damning. His loose smile right when he was on the cusp of tipsy to drunk. How he held open doors and helped carry groceries and picked things from tall shelves for you and anyone else he ever came across in need of help. The way the artfully selected beads in his dark braided hair glinted in the sunshine. His ass in wet swim trunks--you were only human after all and you thanked every god you’d ever heard of that he was definitely not. His serious expression when he was concentrating on his work, eyebrows knitted together and one thumb idly pressing against a tusk. It all added up to you being helplessly fallen for your best friend.

You probably should have said something already. You probably should have said something five years ago, honestly. Because now it felt like there was too much momentum, you were going too fast, too steady to try and jump tracks now. Couldn’t seem to quite get that thought through your thick head, but you were working on it. Or at least trying.

In the meantime, however, you promised yourself that you wouldn’t let your wildly inconvenient feelings compromise your friendship with Ronar. He obviously didn’t feel the same, but he was still very nearly the most important person in your life. So you were there for him, through thick and thin, doing your best to deny your heart and support him like he supported you.

You had plans to go see a movie together one night after work, when he texted you as you pulled into the parking lot of your apartment complex.

‘hey. would you be sad if i don’t want to go see that movie tonight?’

You frowned and dashed off a reply. ‘not really. everything okay?’

‘work was shit. dont feel like going anywhere.’

‘why don’t you come to my place? I can make spaghetti with pink sauce’

The little typing bubble appeared and disappeared a few times as you got out of our car and headed to your front door. Just inside your apartment, you got a reply.

‘i do like pink sauce’

‘see you soon’

You dropped your purse in its usual pile near the front door and headed to the kitchen, opening up the pantry cabinet to pull down--crap. You scoured through a few other cabinets, hoping that perhaps you’d just somehow overlooked or misplaced the required ingredients. Unfortunately, you had not. You were completely out. And there were only three ingredients to begin with. You dashed back to your purse and barely remembered to lock the door behind you before you ran to your car to go to the nearest grocery store.

Of course there were a million other people also trying to get last minute dinner supplies as well at the store. But you returned to your apartment in record time, noticing that Ronar’s car was parked a few spaces down. Thank gods you gave him the spare key when you moved in.

You stepped through the front door to find Ronar splayed across your couch, as if he’d crossed the threshold and taken all of five steps before dropping face first into the cushions. Bad day at work indeed.

“Hey, Ro,” you said in a low voice. There was some sort of muffled return of the greeting. “Had to stop by the store real fast… you good?”

His hand lifted up to form a thumbs up for a second, then dropped back down to its place on the carpet.

“Okay.” It would be amusing if he wasn’t miserable. You went into the kitchen and set about the familiar pattern of spaghetti and pink sauce. After a few minutes, Ronar wandered into the kitchen, frowning at life in general and still in his work clothes. You hardly ever saw him in a suit. It was a good look on him.

He joined you, leaning against the counter across from the stove, arm brushing your shoulder in the process.

“Do you want to talk about it?” you asked, tipping your head to look up at him.

He loosened his tie and a long sigh. “Not really. Just… the usual bullshit.” He shrugged off his suit coat, tossing it and the tie haphazardly to your kitchen table.

You patted his arm. “That sucks. Do you… want a hug then?”

He looked over then nodded, wrapping you in a tight hug and tucking his face into your hair. Hugging your orc best friend was one part being wrapped in the most comforting grip you’ve ever known and one part trying to hold the sun. He was warm and solid and just absolutely the best hugger you’d ever met. You hoped that he found hugging you half as wonderful as you did and at least a little bit soothing. When you pulled back--his hands momentarily sliding across your waist, you noticed--he smiled down at you.

Yeah, you were totally doomed.

“So do you want to hear my plan for tonight?” you asked, turning back to the stove to stir the sauce and keep yourself from making all sorts of embarrassing giggling noises.

“Always,” he replied, coming to stand behind you and resting his chin on the top of your head.

You chuckled, but didn’t push him off. “This will be ready in about ten minutes or so. And I have ice cream in the freezer--it might be a lil freezer burned, but I think it’ll be okay. And I noticed yesterday that that show you like is now streaming.”

“Real Orc Wives of Forik City??”

“Yeah, that one.”

“Oh HELL yes!” He immediately thundered back into the living room. “It’s no Mountain Road Dwarf Truckers, but ROWFC is a classic.”

You heard the noises of him desperately searching for the remote and then the start up noise of your tv. Never down for long, that was Ronar. You smiled down at the sauce as you kept stirring, reminding your wayward, pattering heart that he was always like this.

Shaking it off, you pulled the cheese from the fridge, sprinkling a generous handful into the sauce. Then you pinched a bit more, tipping your head back to sprinkle it into your mouth.

“I saw that,” his voice came from behind you. You glanced over your shoulder, grinning at him.

“You didn’t see nuthin’.” Then you took another pinch. He growled, tossing the remote aside, and jogged back to the kitchen, the obvious intention to steal what was rightfully yours in his eyes. “Nononono--” you protested, trying to block him by turning away and bending over to protect the valuable commodity. But he just leaned over you, laughing and easily engulfing you to snatch the cheese from your hands.

“Hah!” he proclaimed, triumphantly holding his prize over his head and out of your reach.

“That’s not very fair.” You rested your hands on your hips and frowned up at him as he grinned down at you.

“All’s fair in cheese and war.” And then he dumped half the bag in his mouth. Thinking of nothing but reclaiming the bag, you jumped up at him. Finding a foothold at his waist, you hauled yourself up over his broad shoulder as he continued to laugh. You reached for the bag that he was still holding out of your reach, but then--

Your foot slipped. The world lurched backwards. You gasped. Adrenaline shot into your bloodstream.

But Ronar’s large arm swung around your back, catching you before you slammed against the floor. His worried face filled your vision, eyes wide and terrified. For a moment that lasted a thousand years, you both just stayed frozen in that position--him bent over and holding you while you clung to him. Only the sounds of both your heavy breathing filled the air between you two.

Despite the nasty fall you’d almost taken, all your brain could notice was how close his face was. How close his face was, and how full his lips were. You bet that they’d be awfully nice to kiss, even better to nibble on. Your gaze darted from them up to his warm brown eyes and back down. Would he groan? Would he growl? Would he bite you back? Oh gods, you hoped he would.

Stop. This was your best friend, you couldn’t just--

All thought was immediately stopped as suddenly, without any warning at all, Ronar closed the short distance between you. It still took another full second for your mind to catch up with reality and spread the message to the rest of your consciousness that Ronar was kissing you. Ronar was kissing you.

You sucked in a startled breath. You were just starting to notice that his lips were every bit as gentle and supple as you’d ever imagined, when his eyes shot open and he pulled back with a soft ‘pop’. Your world reeled as he abruptly straightened up to standing, pulling you with him. It was all you could do to hold onto his broad shoulders and blink widely at him. Had that just actually happened?

“I’m so sorry,” he said, distraught and shaking a little. He put you back down on your feet and stepped back, hands running through his dark hair. “I don’t-- I shouldn’t have… oh my gods, I’m so sorry.”

He clapped a hand over his traitorous mouth and paced away, still stuttering half-apologies. You, meanwhile, had managed to finally put your head back on your shoulders. Ronar had kissed you. Ronar had kissed you. A very stupid grin spread across for your face for a moment, before you saw him still backpedaling and panicking. You grabbed his arm and made him face you again.

“Ronar!”

“I am so sorry, I don’t know what came over me. We can just pretend that never hap--” You stopped him by smacking your hand over his mouth.

“Do you want to kiss me?” you asked, your voice suddenly gone soft.

He stared down at you for a very long moment, you could see the gears turning in his mind, weighing the potential fall out for every answer. That feeling you certainly understood. But finally, thankfully, he nodded.

A smile broke out across your face. “Then shut up and kiss me.”

Ronar’s eyes went wider still, but he edged the final half-step towards you. His hand traced from your shoulder down to your elbow, your waist. Achingly slow, as if he was worried that he’d somehow spook you, his head dipped down towards you. Finally, your lips met in the kiss you’d spent years dreaming about. And it was better than you’d ever dreamed.

It started gentle, testing almost--wading slowly into this new world you both had apparently been wanting to venture into. But surely, you both relaxed into it, familiarity turning novel in the best way. His hands drifted back to your waist, but quickly slipped around to draw you fully into his arms. You traced your tongue across the seam of his lips, and they opened for you eagerly. The kiss immediately turned deeper, more demanding.

You finally gave in and caught that lucious bottom lip of his between your teeth. He let out a low throaty moan that would fuel your imagination for weeks and picked you up, holding you tight against him. Your legs automatically wrapped around his waist as your fingers threaded through his thick, dark hair.

Dimly, you were aware that Ronar was carrying you through the apartment, making a beeline for your bedroom. Good. Any other destination and you might have had to stop kissing him. As it was, you didn’t stop as he kicked the door open, you didn’t stop as he sat down on your bed, and you didn’t stop as you pressed him back onto the mattress--ending up on hands and knees over him but still kissing.

He pulled you flush against him when he sat up after a minute. You hadn’t had a chance yet to change out of the dress you’d worn to work, so when he sat up you definitely noticed that he was already half-hard inside his slacks. Since he’d responded so well to your nibbling, you pressed your luck and ground against him. He groaned, and his hands moved down from your back to squeeze your ass. Oh gods yes.

Then he broke the kiss. “Is this… actually happening?” he asked, looking wide-eyed at you. You were both panting.

“Dear gods, I hope so,” you answered, leaning back in to press a quick kiss to his tusk and then down along his jaw. He melted momentarily under your attentions, but pulled back again far too soon.

“Do you… want this to happen?” His brows were drawn together in concern, and you could see more than a little trepidation hiding in his eyes. Your heart melted all over again.

You nodded and cupped his cheeks. “I’ve wanted this for a long time.” Despite the world-ending makeout you were halfway through with him, the confession came out a bit bashful. “I want you. All of you.”

A smile broke out across his face along with a breathless laugh. “I-- I thought it was… was just me.”

“That’s what I thought too.”

“We’re both idiots, huh?”

“Yeah,” you agreed quickly before he kissed you again, more exuberance than passion. But it was so wholly Ronar that you couldn’t help but love it. His hands drifted down to the hem of your dress and tugged upon it.

“Take this off then?” he asked, his voice gone just slightly rough.

You rested your arms on his shoulders, fingers twirling through his hair. “What’s the magic word?” you replied, smirking just a little.

He let out a half chuckle, half growl that shot straight to your core and was just entirely unfair. “Take this off now,” he ordered, hands dropping to the backs of your thighs, kneading the flesh slightly.

“Bossy,” you quipped as your toes curled. But you grabbed the hem and pulled the dress off in one fluid motion, tossing it away. His gaze swept over you, and he blew out a long, slow breath, shaking his head slightly.

“Beautiful doesn’t begin to cover it,” he finally said, eyes meeting yours now. “Damn beautiful.”

You would have laughed, but he leaned in and pressed a kiss to the hollow of your throat that somehow sucked all the air out of your lungs, out of the room, out of the world maybe even. His kisses trailed slowly south as his hands moved north from your thighs--squeezing your ass again, apparently he was fond of it--up your back to pull at your bra strap. Gods, yes. You were so eager to really get this party started. But he paused half-way through.

“Is this--” he started to ask.

“Yes!” You interrupted enthusiastically. He grinned and started to lean back towards you for more kisses. You noticed then that you were about to be nearly naked, and he was completely clothed. He kissed around the edges of your bra as you felt him undo the main strap. Somehow, despite his wondrous distractions, you unbuttoned his shirt, stumbling a little on the last few as he slipped your bra off your shoulders.

“Take this off,” you said, tugging on his shirt and not letting him pull your bra the rest of the way off.

“Now who’s bossy?” But he let go of you long enough to unbutton the last button and toss his shirt the way your dress had gone. You’d seen him shirtless a few times before, and it’d always made you weak in the knees. Thank goodness you were already sitting as the hard-packed muscle under deep emerald green skin came into view. You threw your bra off and ran your fingers through the smattering of dark hair in the center, taking in as much of him as you could in a long, quenching gaze.

“You look like you want to eat me,” he said in a quiet voice, half a smile lifting one corner of his mouth. You simply raised an eyebrow in response and thoroughly enjoyed the surprise that washed over his face followed by a low groan. “Why in the seven hells did I not say something five years ago?”

You pushed him back on the bed, kissing up his throat and jaw to catch the pointed tip of his ear between your teeth. His hands gripped your ass again. “Because we’re idiots, remember?” you purred into his ear.

“Right, I forgot.” Tracing your tongue over his ear made him murmur your name, fingers still kneading your flesh. Dipping down you indulged in another long held fantasy, biting his neck--not hard enough to even bruise, just enough to not be a kiss. He let out a toe curling growl and then unceremoniously, pushed you off him and abruptly stood up. You might have been worried that you’d somehow done something wrong if he hadn’t immediately started pulling off his pants.

They were about halfway down his hips when he noticed you looking, admiring really. He grinned. “Enjoying the view?”

You would have had a quip, you always did, if he hadn't dropped his pants right then, gifting you with the stunning view of All of him for the very first time. Very proportional, wonderfully toned, sweet-merciful-gods-was-he-actually-just-sculpted-from-marble All of him.

“Fuck,” you managed, staring wide-eyed.

He was so beautiful when he laughed. He was even more beautiful as he prowled up the bed towards you, intention burning in his eyes.

“Are you always commando under your work pants?” you asked, physically having to pull your eyes away from him for a moment.

“Does it turn you on if I say yes?”

“Yes.”

He cupped your face and gave you a look that made you know his answer was going to be snarky. “Sorry to disappoint you, I’m just between laundry cycles.”

You sighed and shook your head. “A crushing blow.”

He kissed your cheek. “How will you survive it?” Then your jaw.

“Barely, but elegantly.” Your ear. Your neck. Words were… more difficult, but you pressed on. “They’ll… they’ll make a Lifetime movie about me. Your aunt will want to watch it.”

He paused his trail down your body to grin up at you and laugh in his throat, affection in his gaze. Then he resumed his frankly miraculous work, settling down on his stomach before burying his face into your breasts with a contented sigh. For a long moment, he just remained there, kissing softly, his breath sliding across your skin. Then he lifted his hand and took your breasts gently in hand. He rolled the soft flesh under his palms, circling thumbs over your nipples. His expression was utterly enraptured.

“I’ve been wondering what you looked like, felt like for years,” he said in an nearly apologetic tone. Your response was cut off when he captured a nipple between his lips and suckled, before nipping ever so lightly, making you jolt up and gasp in response.

“Fuck, Ro.”

“Not yet. I want to savor this.” He punctuated his sentence by running his tongue from one breast to the other, making a very undignified whine come from the back of your throat.

“You think you’re very clever, don’t you?”

He answered by taking the other nipple in his mouth and sucking soundly while looking up at you. Damn, that should be illegal. Then he pulled back with a soft ‘pop’. “You love it.”

Your fingers threaded into his thick hair, and, in lieu of saying something terribly honest right now, you pulled him back up for a bruising kiss. He settled down next to you, and his fingers plucked at your underwear.

“You mind if I take these off?” he asked, running a finger just under the band.

“Please.” And finally the final barrier between you two was removed. He caught you in a deep kiss, tongue caressing over yours artfully, as the tips of his fingers traced up your inner thigh. His hand cupped you, making you groan into the kiss--it’d been so damn long since it was anyone else’s fingers down there but yours. Much less anyone that you’d wanted like him. Then he parted your folds, both of you sighing as he discovered how wet you already were. His forehead rested on your temple as he carefully mapped you, skimming and teasing and making you whimper all at the same time.

He started indirectly, taking the undulations of your hips and soft cries as guidance for how you wanted to be touched. You gripped his arm, curling in towards him. Gentle yet insistent, his fingers circled your clit, building sparks of pleasure that were quickly catching flame. But still, it wasn’t quite enough.

“Ro, please,” you whimpered, pressing a needy kiss to his jaw. “Please. I--I want you inside me.”

He shifted his hand so a thumb was pressed to your clit and you sighed a long breath as he slipped one finger inside you, thick enough to feel filled with just that. Still--

“Not what I meant,” you huffed, rocking your hips to set a tempo.

He chuckled and kissed your hair. “I know what you meant. We’ll get there. But I want to see you cum first.” You looked up, meeting his intense, hungry gaze. “I want to know that I was the one who made you feel that good.” That made you clench around his finger, and he sped up the pace a little more.

You were so close already, you could feel the coil tightening in your lower stomach. And though his plan sounded pretty damn good, you wanted to do something first. You wrapped a hand around his heavy cock that was trapped between you, and he groaned.

“Cheater,” he hissed, his hips bucking as his fingers stilled.

“You knew this already. You’ve played Battleship with me.”

“Longest Sunday of my life.”

In retaliation, he added a second finger inside you and pressed against your front wall, distracting you thoroughly from anything else other than his wonderful fingers.

“Ronar,” you cried, your voice quivering as a shudder ran down your spine. Nearly there--

“That’s it. Cum for me, love. Please.” Somehow it was the ‘please’ that finished you off. Your orgasm shot from your core, cascading down your limbs, making you clench and let out an inhuman noise as you quaked. But Ronar was right there, holding you through it, coaxing every last bit of pleasure from you.

Till eventually, you grabbed his hand, stilling his movements immediately. He kissed your temple again and slipped his fingers from you, just holding you as you panted and came back down to earth. Somehow in all your fantasies, you hadn’t thought about how wonderful this part would be. Afterglow felt very literal in his arms. Ronar was wrapped around you, his lips on your temple, his fingers tracing a mindless pattern across your hip. It was just so good. Eventually, drowsily, your eyes opened, and your hand skimmed up his arm. He was smiling when you looked up at him.

“Was that good?” he asked, honestly. “It looked good.”

You chuckled and nodded. “It was good.”

“Good,” he said, kissing you softly and pulling you closer. His hand slipped up into your hair as he kissed you, again and again, never rushed, never hurried. He was an even better kisser than he was a hugger or anything else. You thought for a minute that you could happily die here, just spend the rest of your days being kissed by Ronar and held in his arms. Till you shifted closer to him and you felt his still hard cock brush against your thigh. Ooh, right, you had better plans than even this.

You spread your legs just enough for him to slip between them, and he pulled back with a hiss. His breathing had just shifted to something deeper as he looked at you.

“Ready to go again?” you asked, smirking a little. Your hand trailed down his side to mimic his earlier actions across his hip, so close but not quite there.

He nodded. “Please. I want… you. I want you.” There was such earnestness in his eyes that you stopped teasing him for a moment, and, in fact, you had to kiss him for it. But the time for sweet and slow was over for now, this kiss was heat and desire and left you both breathless.

“How do you want me?” you asked between kisses you pressed along his jaw.

He pulled you on top of him and then sat up--the casual show of his immense strength was still toe-curling--putting you at eye level with him in his lap. “Like this?” he asked, a hand cupping your cheek. “I want to see your face.”

“Gods, Ronar…” You shook your head and laughed just a little.

“What?”

“You! You’re just…” You struggled to find a word to encapsulate it all, but had to give up. “Wonderful doesn’t even begin to describe.”

His thumb stroked your cheek for a moment, then he added, “How about damn wonderful?”

That made you laugh as you kissed him again, your arms wrapping around his neck. He groaned as his length was trapped between you, but he just held you close. Then suddenly he jerked back.

“Crap, do you have any condoms? Or--or…” His eyebrows knitted together in worry. “I guess I can run down to the store--”

“Ro,” you said, stopping his worry spiral. “I’m on the pill, it’s okay.”

“Right.” He heaved a breath and offered you a lopsided smile in apology.

You chuckled. “You really think you could have fit back in your pants right now?” To emphasize your point, you took him in hand and circled your thumb over the head.

“It wouldn’t have been--shit, oh don’t stop--p… pleasant. But I’d do it for--” The sentence drifted off as you lifted yourself up on your knees, moving with obvious intent.

Ronar’s eyes were wide and wondrous as he looked up at you, both of you hovering in the moment of anticipation. You memorized his face, never wanting to forget it at this exact second. Then you sank down upon him.

It was a slow process as even with your preparation, he was still larger than anyone else you’d ever been with and you weren’t looking for any painful sensations right now. But you found yourself slowing down even more just to watch the revelations wash over Ronar’s face. Pleasure looked perfect on him.

It was more than a minute before he was fully inside you, your hips flush to his. He pulled you close, hands rubbing across your back as he murmured gentle half-phrases of encouragement and compliments.

You took it slow at first, more rocking than anything else. Just focusing on every sensation that you were feeling right now--his hands on your back, his breath on your neck, his chest pressed to yours. Though you were going for barely a minute before he whispered, “Wait.”

You immediately stopped, meeting his gaze. “You okay?” you asked.

He nodded. “Just changed my mind.”

You didn’t have a chance to be concerned as he quickly lifted you up and set you back on the bed, leaning over you and kneeling between your splayed thighs. “Mind if I lead?” he asked, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

You smiled. “By all means.”

He kissed you once more then guided himself back to your entrance, pressing in slowly and watching your face intently. But you were ready for him--desperate might have been the better word. When he was fully sheathed, you pulled him down so he was resting on his elbows. You were surrounded, protected, safe and adored under him. And as he rocked into you, a relieved sigh left you. His gaze never left yours as he built up a rhythm and you did your best to match it. But soon he out paced you, so you hooked your heels around his waist and let him wash over you.

You couldn’t believe that this was finally actually happening. You’d wanted him for so long and now here he was--in your bed, between your thighs, looking at you like you were the world’s most beautiful sunset as he was driving you to your second earth-shattering orgasm of the evening. The waiting and the longing and the heartache just made it all seem so much sweeter as he dipped down to kiss you.

“Ronar,” you whispered, your voice tight with emotions and delayed gratification. “I--I--”

“I know, love.” He pressed his forehead to yours, eyes closing and brows furrowing in concentration. “I’m so close. Can you wait for me?”

Your response was just a high-pitched whimper that quickly turned into a prayerful chanting of his name as his pace suddenly picked up. Your grip tightened on his biceps as he neared his peak and you were teetering on the edge of yours.

“Please, please, please, please,” you whined through gritted teeth.

He caught up to you with a kiss, sending you both over the cliff in each other’s arms. You shuddered and cried out as he spilled into you with a heavy moan. For a moment, everything was radiant and glowing and perfect. It was just Ronar and you. Even as reality filtered slowly back in, the world was better than the last time you saw it, surely. It certainly felt like it was.

Ronar relaxed momentarily on top of you, and there was something deeply safe and secure about feeling the weight of his body on yours. His cheek brushed across yours, back and forth, for a minute, and he let out a deeply contented sigh.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, starting to pull himself up and off of you.

“Don’t be. I love this.” And you pulled him back down. His arms slipped under you to hug you tightly, his face buried against your neck, tusks pressing against your skin.

You stayed like that for several minutes, his arms around you, your fingers tracing soothing patterns across his broad back and occasionally slipping up to comb at the ends of his dark hair. It was deeply peaceful there. Though the sound of some very angry hissing coming from the kitchen broke the quiet atmosphere.

“I think dinner might be ruined,” you said with a chuckle.

He lifted his head and grinned down at you. “We can always order something.” He carded his fingers through your hair. “Or I could, um… take you on that date I’ve been meaning to ask you to for a long time.”

A corner of your mouth lifted up. “How long?” you asked, intensely curious.

The deep green blush across his cheeks got a little darker. “Since the first time you rolled your eyes.”

“Wasn’t that like twenty minutes after we first met?”

“Approximately. Yes.” You would have laughed if you didn’t see how serious he was. Oh. He dipped his head to brush his lips across yours. “How about you? Or was it when I kissed you back in the kitchen?”

You shook your head slightly. “Remember back in junior year where we stayed up all night talking at the picnic table and then got donuts right when the shop opened at 4 am?”

He nodded.

“You had whipped cream on your cheek and bags under your eyes. And the sun was rising behind you. And that was it for me.”

Warmth bloomed in his eyes, and he smiled. “Guess I need to make up for lost time then. Can I take you out this evening?”

“Please.”

Masterlist

[Thanks for reading my first monster boyfriend! <3, mice]

#monster boyfriend #monster lover #orc boyfriend #exophilia #orc #lemon #friends to lovers

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ambiguousdisorderken · 3 years

Text

help! a thought a thought!

s13: cas comes back from the empty without his grace and jack is very much a baby.

cas promised kelly he'd look after him, but despite all those parenting books qnd online forums, looking after a nephil is no easy task, curiously more so when it comes to jack's human wants and needs. he sees the winchesters’ intent tohelp, but jack is his charge, and cas is going to protect and look after this kid with his own limited resources even if it kills him. in return, he gets apologetic and compassionate looks from both the brothers, but dean's gaze is also... stern? no, serious. it's as if he's holding back.

cas feels judged.

at the end of one such days in which jack is being extremely... difficult, cas all but collapses. funny how an angel of the lord who once led heavenly armies and would annihilate on command like a good soldier has been brought to the brink of tears by an adorable chubby-cheeked infant with a penchant for making cas feel guilty for arguably being the worst parental figure in the whole of history. well, surely not as bad as abraham or ivan vasilyevich. cas would never harm a single blond hair on jack’s precious little head, but he’s not a good.

he's so immersed in his own frustration that he doesn't notice the door opening or the familiar weight of steps across the bedroom. he does notice the sudden shadow, and he definitely notices when jack's being taken from him by a pair of hands he rebuilt himself with the utmost care, never suspecting how he'd yearn for their touch years down the line.

dean is good with kids. he had to be. right now though, with jack? he doesn't have to be good, but he is, he's excellent. obviously better than castiel, since in less than a couple minutes jack’s long-winded on-and-off tantrum morphed into silence and then giggles. jack's actually delighted, toothless smile and happy squeals and little fists thrown in the air.

'how did you...?' cas asks stunned, wiping from his eyes the treacherous evidence of his failed parenting.

dean raises an eyebrow, but turns his face when jack's tiny hand pets his jaw. dean makes faces then, his beautiful features contorting into expressions cas had never seen. jack, laughs and curls up against dean's chest, face hiding in the junction between his neck and chin.

jack closes his red-rimmed eyes and sighs contentedly.

'dude. babies are all about vibes, man. they can sense shit, and you being all stressed out was not helping.'

cas looks down at his hands and feels every ounce of his inadequacy being maximized to stand as tall as the chrysler building.

'i... thought it'd be easier, dean. i try, i do. but jack... of course it's not his fault, that’s not what i’m saying. it's mine. he doesn't seem happy with me, and he obviously does not like me.'

dean stops rocking jack and sits on the bed next to cas, his face schooled into that expression cas has seen but can't tell the meaning of.

this time dean doesn't hold back though.

'one, that's a load of bullcrap. kid loves you. you're his dad, remember?' it's weird being admonished by dean on this particular subject, but if anyone would know about raising kids, that'd dean. he continues, 'which brings me to point number two. cas, babies are not easy. no parent has it all figured out, no matter how many books you read or how old you are. it's totally normal to hit a few bumps in the road, trust me.'

cas sighs, relieved by dean's soothing words of wisdom.

but cas' self-doubt must be a thousand-headed beast, experience has taught him many things, and right now that means he knows, from experience, that he's most likely to mess things up with jack as soon as dean hands him back.

he misses his powers. if he were still an angel he'd be able to bond with jack through their grace, and they’d have a more meaningful connection. or not.

dean, wonderful as he is, is only a human, and in less than five minutes he got jack wrapped around his finger. maybe even all “juiced-up” cas would be just as lacking.

'i wish i had your nurturing skills' cas confesses.

dean clears his throat.

'you have them' he says.

cas looks up and meets dean's determined yet nervous eyes. confused, cas clarifies, 'no, i meant i wish i could-'

dean cuts in, 'i know what you meant, cas. but i meant you have, uh, my... "nurturing skills" or whatever. because you have me. okay, cas? you have me.'

'oh?'

cas hopes, he does. but he isn't good at articulating his feelings when it comes to dean. perhaps cas learned it from him. after all, once he used to be able to declare his thoughts without flinching or feeling apprehensions of any kind.

but, when it comes to dean, he's afraid of saying the wrong thing, of saying too much.

dean continues, making what he can with cas' poor response, 'if you want, of course. and i mean... you're doing great with the little rugrat, cas, but normal babies are a handful and jack's half freaking angel. i know it's tough, and i don't like seeing you all...' he waves in cas' direction. baby-stained rumpled clothes and face worn, dark circles under the eyes are apparently not a very good look on him. he shouldn't be offended, but it still stings a bit, knowing he's doing a bad enough that his whole body is living proof of it.

'dean, you don't have to,' he replies.

'but i want to,' dean says without skipping a beat.

jack sighs happily.

'let me take care of him. with you.' his green eyes search into cas', his pitch slightly higher and his tone pleading, 'just let me help you, cas. please. we' re a - a good team, you and i. we've gone through shit must people can't even begin to imagine, so i think we can do this' his shoulder bumps gently against cas' arm. 'watcha' say, pal. wanna raise a baby together?'

cas stares back in shock, failing to taper down his burgeoning hope. but dean cannot mean what cas wants him to mean. it's not like that with them. they're friends. best friends. but do best friends raise kids together? he shouldn't poke at this.. thing, but the need to know is overpowers his better judgment, so his next words could very well be the last ones he uttered before getting his heart irreparably torn to shreds.

'i thought only couples raised children together, dean.'

dean huffs and rolls his eyes, 'that nuclear family crap is a big fat lie, cas. white picket-fence propaganda. there are many types of families in the world. not everyone gets to have a mom who lives long enough to raise her children or a dad who gives a fuck if his kids ate, consumed by a piss-poor avenger complex.'

of course. he should've known. absorbed by his own selfish wants, dean's complicated upbringing slipped from cas' mind, and now he's made the conversation awkward if dean's hesitancy is any indication to go by.

cas stays silent.

'but,' dean starts, his cheeks are colored red and he blinks twice then once again, keeping watery eyes at bay. 'we could do that too, cas. if that's.. if you'd, um, like that. you and me and this little one.'

dreaming. cas must be dreaming.

'like a family?' he asks suspiciously.

'like a family' dean says guarded.

but.

and because he needs to be sure, and dean probably didn't realize the very non-platonic implication of his statement, he asks 'like a... couple?'

'yes' the word is breathed out with pleasure and dean smiles at him warmly and openly, and he looks so beautiful like this, sitting on cas' bed with a sleepy jack safely tucked against his body.

'okay' cas says, because he doesn't know the etiquette for this specific scenario, and besides, they have to keep their voices low and their movements subtle if they want to keep jack from stirring awake.

'alright' dean says. then dean turns to whisper something in jack's ear, but the words are easily carried across what little space rests between them.

'heard that, baby? i’m gonna take good care of you and your daddy from now on.'

so, they take care of jack together. cas' parenting skills improve rather quickly, dean's natural instincts are lifesavers, and every day the three of them become happier and better rested. endless nights of cuddling will do that to you. in short, dean and cas raise their baby like a couple, and, with jack, they are, in every sense of the word, a family.

#I AM SOFT #i'll have lunch now because i got carried away with this oops.#was supposed to work on a gifset e.e #creating different types of content is a Thing.#destiel fanfic #or #destiel drabble #idek #deancas #my fanfic #I JUST WANT THEM TO BE HAPPY WITH THEIR BABY #but now they are :')#baby!jack #fuck capitalization bitches got no time for that :(#pardon ME im thee cheesiest i know 😩

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whaleofatjme1920 · 3 years

Note

HEY B GIMMIE THAT SWEET SWEET RIVAL MATCHUP U ALREADY KNO

You already know who this is but ill still give u a hot rundown: My names Ally, im 20 years old 5’7’’ and a Leo/year of the dragon/INFP. She/They pronouns and im Pansexual but i dont think that matters much in this situation >:P. Appearance wise i have shoulder length curly red hair and green/grey eyes, suuuuper pale skin and freckles. Im def an ambivert, very protective of people who mean alot to me and kind of sharp tempered, especially when people start talking about shit they dont know anything about. Im also a pretty big perfectionist and people pleaser and will beat the FUCK outta myself if i feel like i let people down or made people upset when i could have helped it. But thats all about me, heres those wacky questions!

- Stated before, but im an August Leo! I would say my aura would probably be a pinkish/ purple color? For dislikes i def dont like bitter foods, being too hot, rumors, people talking behind my back, ppl who act like they know what theyre talking about, ppl cutting me off when i lose my train of thought, conservatives, not caring about climate change/the planet in general, tight or restrictive clothes, not having enough time in the day, capitalism, ect. Honestly the most off the wall thing for me that would make me throw hands on sight would probably be someone saying some shit about my close friends behind their back to me.

- Once when I was 14 me and about 10 other people squeezed into a mini van at about 3am and drove around the town, not a single one of us had a license or were over the age of 16, and we were all ridiculously drunk and high the entire time (except the driver. we were underage, not stupid). After driving halfway across the island we got pulled over by cop on the interstate, and he walked up to the car, looked at the driver, then into the passenger seat and saw literally 10 KIDS OBVIOUSLY DRINKING and the car absolutely reeked of bud, then looked back at the driver and simply told him “Your tail light is out. Get home safe” and drove away. Ive never seen god faster than that moment LMAO

- I could never willingly fight a raccoon, youre sick for suggesting that >:/ They are precious boys and ive saved too many from drowning in my pool for me to lay a finger on one. And as for dealbreakers? My biggest one in a relationship is cheating, but thats pretty basic LMAO. I would also say one that’s definitely second in rank would be expecting someone to stay the same through out the relationship and getting upset when the person changes. We are human beings and developing and growing, if you dont support me in that nothing is going to work. I explained a bunch of things i dislike in people above, but ill also add in here people who hurt animals in any way/ litter for no reason. If one of my friends throws a piece of trash out of my car im slammin on the brakes and youre getting out and picking it up. And god forBID you touch an animal around me il doing whatever you did to it to yourself no hesitation.

- I would hate being stuck in a room with anyone, i have decently bad claustrophobia and if we were in there for more than a day i would start bugging out LOL But probably the worst type of person would be someone who just doesn’t shut up and trys to act like they know everything. Those are like, the most insufferable people to me. ESPECIALLY if theyre wrong and refuse to admit it. Whenever i think of being locked in a room, somehow i always imagine like a dark navy blue room with one small window and completely empty floors and walls, everything made out of carpet. Dont ask me why, i have absolutely no clue.

my feed back is ily bitch gimmie a good one i wanna fight a bitch

Your enemy is… Eyeless Jack!

In general:

I told you this yesterday but I wasn’t expecting you to send this in and must've spent like 5 straight minutes wheezing reading this. My gut reaction was Jeff, but based on what you wrote about the room, I’m going to say your enemy is actually Eyeless Jack!

Things he doesn’t like about you and how he pisses you off:

EJ doesn’t like that you’re a Leo. I’m not elaborating on that. He’s such a cold, clinical, heartless bastard that everything you are just goes against whatever tf he actually believes and acts as. I feel like you being a perfectionist would just brush against his perfectionist tendencies and habits. He’d say everything you’re doing is wrong. Just a dick. EJ may or may not exploit your weaknesses but that’s just because he thinks it’s fun and doesn’t like you.

EJ is a god of knowing what he’s talking about and it leads to this cocky, know it all attitude. It’s gonna brush you the wrong way. He knows that and takes joy in it. He will always attempt to one up you in knowledge and grin when he sees you falter. On the other end, if you catch him off guard he’s gonna be SO MAD. He will purposely turn up the heat in your presence just to make you upset. He will breathe down your neck and get in your personal space just to make you more uncomfortable. EJ isn’t anywhere NEAR a conservative or a climate change denier but he will take those positions just to make you mad and laugh over your attempts at arguing with him. Like Jeff, he’s a huge devil’s advocate and will start shit just because he can. I don’t actually think he’d talk about your friends negatively in front of you though, but he would definitely say stuff about you to your face.

EJ thinks it’s stupid you drank underage and will poke that memory. He will use insults about alcohol and the brain despite drinking a ton himself. If you call him out on it, he will fold. Literally throw everything he says about you back at him and he will get puffy and fast. EJ can’t always handle change that well so like, he’s a stubborn guy. Despite how logical he can be and how smart he is, socially he is so uncouth!! EJ doesn’t litter so you don’t have to worry about that but he’s definitely gonna do things that push your buttons, mostly say things that put you off. He’s not claustrophobic. He will put you in situations like that just because he can. The dark navy blue of his mask is going to haunt you. EJ will act like a god in your presence and snarl when you dare question his abilities. CALL HIM OUT. HUMBLE HIM PLEASE.

He agrees on the raccoon thing ngl. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, but EJ has such a soft spot for animals - mostly birds - but he can’t fault you for the raccoon thing. He's also not too fond of litter so he has to agree with you on that one too.

Closing Thoughts/Other Things:

Knowing you for as long as I have, I was so, so ready to actually put you with Jeff. However, the more I read into this the more my intuition screeched that you would actually throw hands with EJ and I find that HILARIOUS. Just the arguments between you and this tall, muscular demon man is just - “what? What? WHAT” It’s beautiful. I’m serious, Merida vs. a literal demon. That’s all. Ily. <3

#eyeless jack #eyeless jack headcanon #creepypasta #creepypasta matchup #enemy matchups #rival matchups

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edettethegreat · 3 years

Text

How to stage King Lear so that Edmund’s 100% more sympathetic and Gloucester’s 100% more of a jerk

( the prequel )

( the sequel )

(This is 100% about Edmund. If you wanna read stuff about other characters then this isn’t the post for you)

(Seriously this isn’t about anyone other than Edmund)

(This is your final warning- enjoy!)

(Or don’t I don’t care I’m really tired and I have midterms to study for)

General Staging

-every time Edmund and Gloucester are on stage together, they gravitate away from each other. Kinda like what happens when you try to push two magnets together. If one takes a step towards the other, the other moves away.

-Gloucester rarely ever looks at Edmund. He often walks in front of him when both are walking together. In scenes where a three way conversation is taking place between himself, Edmund, and someone else, he looks at the other person the whole time.

-Edmund faces away from people when he’s lying to them. Often by standing in front of them (but like, across the stage from them so the audience can see them both) (like this—->)

(I deleted the picture accidentally this is not ok now I have to draw it again)

Casting/ Costumes

-(I’m only gonna be talking about the characters that I actually care about how they’re cast)

-Edmund: someone of average height, yet shorter than Gloucester, Edgar, and Cornwall. Around the same height as Albany and Goneril. Taller than Regan. Is attractive (obviously. That’s one of the first things we’re told about him), but leaning more towards cute than hot (as per my analysis in a previous post). Wears shades of grey- all of his costumes make it clear that he’s upper class, but they’re not overly flashy.

-Gloucester: If I get even one Santa Claus vibe, I’m gonna punch a wall. He should have zero resemblance to Santa. I just saw a production of Lear where he may as well have been a mall Santa. I wanted to scream. Anyway. Onto what he should look like. I honestly don’t care, as long as i can’t mistake him for Santa. It’s the vibe that counts. ANYWAY. His costume is obnoxiously ostentatious, but it gets gradually more normal as the overall stress level increases.

-Edgar: taller than Edmund, and physically more muscular, but in like “Disney channel movie football player side character who’s no one’s primary love interest and is kinda dumb” sort of way. (Future Edette Editing: What I meant was “he’s a himbo”) He’s not ultra hot, but he’s not exactly ugly either. He’s pretty average looking. He wears shades of brown, because I feel like that suits him.

-Cornwall: tall but doesn’t give off Tall Person Vibes. Preferably with dark brown or black hair, but other colors can work as well. I cannot imagine him wearing anything other than suits that are mostly black with some shades of red somewhere- I don’t care how you incorporate the shades of red into his costume, as long as they’re there.

-Albany: has a dark shade of blond hair, or a medium shade of brown hair. Any other hair color just doesn’t work. (Future Edette Editing: any color hair other than black is fine for Albany). Dresses sensibly and wears really boring costumes.

-Goneril, Regan, and Cordelia have at least a little bit of a family resemblance. Please. Their costumes are similar as well- all wear standard types of clothes you’d expect the princesses of England to wear.

ACT 1 SCENE 1

- Gloucester and Kent enter the stage with Edmund trailing behind them. They’re entering the palace from outside. Idk how England’s weather works, but I decided that the whole play takes place in the fall. I’m not wrong. It does. It doesn’t feel like the sort of play to take place in any other season. You can all fight me on this in the comments, I have no evidence to back up this claim. Anyway, they’re all wear jackets. Because it’s fall.

-As Kent and Gloucester say their first lines, they take their jackets off. It’s hot inside the palace. Edmund leaves his jacket on. It’s not a heavy jacket. He’ll be fine.

-As Gloucester finishes up his first line “...can make choice of either’s moiety” he hands his jacket to Edmund. He does this in a very natural way- it’s clear this is something he does instinctively, without thinking about it. Edmund takes it. He takes it instinctively as well, without thinking about it.

-Kent, watching this says the line “Is not this your son, my lord?”. As in “hey dude. Isn’t he your kid? Why are you treating him like a servant or a coatrack?”

-at “His breeding, sir, hath been at my charge”, Gloucester puts a hand on Edmund’s shoulder in a “yes this is my son” sort of way. He does that a bit too roughly- not in any attempt to hurt Edmund, but definitely showing that he’s doing it for show and not in genuine fatherly affection.

-While Gloucester talks about Edmund, a waiter goes around with champagne glasses. Maybe they have actual liquid (ie water) in them, maybe not. I don’t care. Anyway, both Gloucester and Edmund take one.

-As Gloucester continues talking, he slowly sips whatever alcoholic beverage is in the champagne glass. (Probably champagne, but hey, I’m no expert on alcohol). NO, this isn’t to imply that he’s only speaking Like That (TM) because he’s drunk. He is not drunk.

-meanwhile Edmund downs the whole glass, in the standard theatre way of “I don’t wanna be here and I don’t wanna deal with this”

-Gloucester hands his empty glass to Edmund. He seems to suddenly remember that Edmund is, in fact, there. He says him line “Do you know this noble gentleman, Edmund?”

-At “my services to your lordship” he would bow or something (I don’t know English nobility etiquette, sorry), but he’s currently holding two glasses and a jacket, so he partially bows to the best of his ability.

ACT 1 SCENE 2

- A main set piece for this play would be a door or two on wheels that can be moved around. People really like entering and exiting buildings.

-ANYWAY. Edmund comes in through said door, currently located at the back of the stage. Gloucester house have a portrait of Gloucester family in huge on the wall. Gloucester’s in the middle, with Edgar on one said and Edmund on the other. At this point this should go without saying, but the gap between Gloucester and Edmund is much larger than the gap between Gloucester and Edgar. There’s also a desk and chair somewhere on stage.

-As he starts his first soliloquy, he takes off his jacket that he was wearing in scene 1 and drapes it over the back of the chair

-at “legitimate Edgar, I must have your land”, he turns towards the portrait and looks at Edgar. Then there’s a pause in the soliloquy as he goes over to the desk and writes The Letter (TM). Then he continues the soliloquy with “Our father’s love is to the bastard Edmund..”

-Gloucester enters. He doesn’t notice Edmund.

-As Gloucester asks Edmund for the letter, he and Edmund slowly circle around the stage, the way you’d see animals circling when they’re preparing to fight each other. They’re not going to fight. Not directly at least.

-Gloucester doesn’t make direct eye contact with Edmund for most of this scene

-Until he does, at the line “Give me the letter, sir.”. The line itself is said very forcefully. Both Gloucester and Edmund have stopped circling each other. They stand at opposite ends of the stage. There is a pause, and then Edmund takes the letter back out of his pocket and gives it as he continues saying his lines.

-Gloucester spends the remainder of the scene looking at the letter instead of at Edmund.

-“Edmund, seek him out..” is said very offhandedly, like he’s giving an order to a servant, rather than talking to his own son

-Gloucester leaves, Edmund sinks into the chair at the desk. He puts his head down on the desk and leaves it there for a solid second. He starts his soliloquy with his head still down. (Future Edette Editing: I still want something here to show that Edmund doesn’t get any enjoyment from this- he’s doing it out of anger, or as revenge, or to gain what should have been his, had things been slightly different, or possibly as a means of survival. Basically, he’s not doing this to have a fun time at deceiving anyone) He’s not enjoying what he’s doing- he’s not rejoicing at what is seemingly his success- he sees that it doesn’t make a difference. Gloucester would rather have no sons than only have him.

-Edgar enters. Edgar enters in a great mood. His optimism is turned up to a solid 100%.

-“How now, brother Edmund!” He speed-walks over to Edmund, who’s standing near the middle of the stage at this point. He does something brotherly- I don’t know what that would even mean, given that I am a girl with no brothers. He puts his arm around his shoulder or ruffles his hair or something. That’s the vibe I’m going for. The “haha yeah we’re siblings and we totally get along” vibe. Edmund is, however, not vibing.

(-if the second option is what we’re going with, Edmund takes a moment to fix his hair. A very short moment, but a moment none the less)

-Edgar notices that Edmund does not seem to be vibing, and that’s when he continues with his line “what serious contemplation are you in?”

- at “..go armed”, Edmund hands Edgar his own sword. This is the sword Edgar will later use to kill him.

ACT 2 SCENE 1

- On Edmund’s conversation with Curan: This is the first conversation Edmund’s having with someone without there being any uncomfortable tension between them. They talk in a casual way, and it’s clear that outside of the play they would be friends, regardless of status. Why would they be friends? Because I decided they should be.

-Edgar is doubly armed- with Edmund’s sword and with his own. He was planning on returning Edmund’s sword. When they “fight” Edgar uses Edmund’s sword and Edmund uses Edgar’s. They have different types of swords- Edmund’s- which is now Edgar’s- is slightly shorter and lighter. Edgar’s- which is now Edmund’s- is a two handed sword. These details are slightly irrelevant, but I feel like their weapon of choice (even though they’re using each other’s weapons (ie not their weapons of choice)) should match their personalities.

- Edgar just. Has NO idea what’s up with Edmund’s “hey we gotta sword fight now” thing. It should be clear to the audience that he’s ONLY going along with it because he trusts Edmund entirely.

-during the fight, Edmund slashes the family portrait with his sword, cutting a line between Edgar and Gloucester. Is this cliche? Yes. Must it happen anyway, because ✨symbolism✨? Yes.

-Edgar leaves through The Door I keep talking about

- Edmund stabs his non-dominant arm. This is relevant and important.

- “But where is he?” Gloucester hasn’t even noticed at this point that Edmund was injured in the “fight”. “Look, sir, I bleed!” Is Edmund’s attempt to get Gloucester’s attention. It’s his way of saying “I got injured for YOUR sake. THAT’S how good of a son I am!!”

- “where is the villain, Edmund?” The word “villain”, not the word “Edmund” is emphasized. While his seemingly innocent a son is standing there with his arm stabbed and bleeding, he’s more concerned with the son who supposedly plotted against him, but is currently running away now and is of no threat to him.

- (this is the point where I get really into @suits-of-woe’s Cornwall theory, because while I had never thought of it before, as soon as I read it I agreed with it completely. Please go read the theory if you haven’t already.)

- While Gloucester rarely looks at Edmund, Cornwall’s eyes go straight to Edmund as soon as he enters the room. Edmund doesn’t notice- he’s too busy trying to support his stabbed arm in a functional way without bleeding everywhere

-while Gloucester and Regan are talking, Cornwall calls a servant aside and whispers to him. The servant leaves. He asked the servant to get Edmund bandages because his arm has LITERALLY been STABBED and no one’s doing anything about it.

- Edmund’s focused on his arm until Cornwall’s line of “Edmund, I hear that you have shown your father a very child-like office”. Finally, someone appreciates him! At “It was my duty, sir”, it’s clear that there’s some sort of understanding between them. They somewhat get that they’re on the same side. There is a short pause.

- “...and received this hurt you see” Gloucester, being Gloucester, grabs Edmund’s injured arm to “show it off” to Regan and Cornwall. Edmund, master of hiding his emotions and such, winces for a millisecond but then goes back to “ah yes everything is ok and I am totally not condensed rage in human form”.

(Future Edette Editing: I am *so glad* I’m editing this because I really don’t like some of the stuff I shoved in here to try to cater this to a larger audience)

-after “..how in my strength you please”, that servant Cornwall called returns. As he says “For you, Edmund, whose virtue and obedience..” until the end of that paragraph Cornwall takes the bandage and bandages Edmund’s arm- I mean no one else is gonna do it. That, combined with the content of what Cornwall says in the paragraph, lead Edmund to be like “wait. Is this?? A father figure???” “a father figure? For ME???”

(-Hence the Cornwall theory I mentioned earlier)

- “I shall serve you, sir, truly, however else” this is the first line he’ll say in a way that it’s clear to everyone (mainly the audience) that he’s 100% sincere. He’s not trying to be deceptive. He’s not trying to trick anyone. He says it softly and truly means it.

-Edmund’s arm remains bandaged for the remainder of the play. (It’s not heavily bandaged or anything)

ACT 2 SCENE 2

- At “How now! What’s the matter?..” Edmund comes out holding Edgar’s- which is now his, I guess- sword. He’s holding it well enough, considering it’s a two handed sword and he just stabbed himself in the arm, but it’s pretty clear that he won’t be able to win a fight with it. Don’t worry, he’ll get a new sword before his final duel.

-at “no more, perchance, does mine, nor his, nor hers” “his” is referring to Gloucester, not Edmund. This isn’t because Cornwall is ignoring Edmund, it’s because that’s just the order they’re standing in. Edmund entered this scene first out of the four of them, so while Kent and Oswald are on one side of the stage, Edmund stands towards the middle, and Cornwall, Gloucester, and Regan stand at the other side.

ACT 3 SCENE 3

-Gloucester is angry in this scene. Why is he angry? Because I say so. He says all his lines in an angry and bitter way. Which may be counterproductive- having Gloucester be angry about how Lear is treated may make him more likable, which isn’t my goal. But I don’t care.

-Edmund says his paragraph at the end in a bitter and angry way too. Because ✨ parallels ✨

ACT 3 SCENE 5

-Cornwall is Gloucester’s opposite when it comes to how they react to/ treat Edmund. While Gloucester rarely looks at him and has an anti-magnetic effect, Cornwall stands near Edmund on the stage and looks at him both when he’s speaking to him and when Edmund’s replying. And not in a “good eye contact is important” sort of way, because Edmund faces away from people when he lies to them. Just for staging reasons, not because he can’t lie when facing people.

-Cornwall knows Edmund’s lying- he shows this by constantly moving so that he’s nearly always standing beside him instead of behind him (not actually directly behind him; scroll up for General Staging, where I explained this.)

-At “go with me to the duchess” Cornwall puts a hand on Edmund’s shoulder, directly paralleling Gloucester in Act 1 Scene 1. Because I really like ✨parallels✨. Except Cornwall, the same guy who said “thou shalt find a dearer father in my love”, does this in a much more- fatherly, I guess?- way than Gloucester did.

-At “if the matter of this paper be certain...” Edmund does what he does when he lies; ie tries to turn away and takes maybe half a step back. He pretty much trusts Cornwall enough to not walk halfway across the stage when he lies, but not enough for him to either lie directly to his face (or just tell the truth, I guess- but that’s because the whole point of this is to stick to the original script and use only stage directions to make Edmund more sympathetic).

-At “True or false, it has made thee earl of Gloucester...” Cornwall puts his other hand on Edmund’s other shoulder (wow I’m bad at describing things)

Here are some stock photos to help ya visualize this-

THIS is putting one hand on a shoulder. Note that the two people aren’t necessarily facing each other.

AND THIS is putting both hands on shoulders-

(So imagine that, but minus how aggressive that looks, and minus one of the people’s arms. Also a whole lot less tense/intense.) (Anyway. Moving on.)

-at “thou shalt find a dearer father in my love” (...cue me googling “how on earth do fathers show affection?” Because I really want to get the point across that edmund’s like “a father figure??? For me???” And Cornwall’s like “👍. A father figure. For you.”) HECK I GOT IT. Hear me out. Cornwall pats Edmund on the head (in like, a fatherly way), and with the other hand hold The Letter (TM) (even though this is a different “the letter”) and looks it over. This is the first time he looked away from Edmund since this conversation started. In a way that portrays “yes you are my son now I have claimed you as my own” but also “you are not necessarily my top priority- I can give you the fatherly love and affection you desire, but it’s not exactly unconditional. You did well today, good job! You keep up the good work and I’ll keep up my end of this; ie providing you with the fatherly love you never received in your childhood” ( @suits-of-woe I am trying here. I am struggling. I’m so sorry for ruining the Cornwall Theory like this- I’m trying my best to convey it via my amazing stage directions, but I can see pretty clearly that I’m epically failing at this).

ACT 3 SCENE 7

-Cornwall walks onto the stage first, followed by Goneril and Regan close behind them, and Edmund last.

-at “Farewell, sweet lord, and sister”, Cornwall nods at Goneril in response (this has nothing to do with Edmund, I always just thought it was weird that he doesn’t respond)

- at “Edmund,.. farewell” Goneril had already left the stage, Regan is standing next to Cornwall at the opposite end of the stage. Edmund’s about to exit when Cornwall says “Edmund”. He turns around- expecting Cornwall to say something more to him or something. There’s a pause. Cornwall doesn’t have anything else to say. He just says “Farewell”. Edmund nods and leaves the stage.

ACT 4 SCENE 2

-oh heck I gotta stage an Edmund and Goneril scene now

-I don’t wanna?

(Future Edette Editing: and so I won’t!! I don’t normally describe things as cringe, but that’s what this was. I only put this in because I felt obligated to talk about every scene. Oh well- I guess 4.2 isn’t getting stage directions from me)

ACT 5 SCENE 1

-Edmund enters first, dressed in some sort of military commander uniform. Because. Like. There’s a war going on. His sleeves are rolled up/cuffed up to elbow length, and his arm is still bandaged from when he stabbed it.

-there is a tent with a desk in it on stage. Hold on let me illustrate this:

(Future Edette Editing: yeah there was an illustration here, but I’m changing some stuff so I deleted it)

It’s all on wheels so it can be moved around the stage- whichever piece is the most important to the scene will be more up front.

-Edmund stands at the desk which has some military plans of some sort on it.

-Edmund is armed with a brand new sword (Cornwall’s sword? Maybe? Who knows?) (UPDATE: yeah hi future Edette here- I decided that it is, in fact, Cornwall’s sword)

-With Regan, Edmund also doesn’t get that she’s flirting with him right away.

-and then. Then he’s like “OH WAIT” “WAIT SHE’S FLIRTING” “WAIT SO I GOT 2 GIRLFRIENDS??” “OH WOW THIS IS FANTASTIC” “THIS IS LITERALLY THE BEST WEEK OF MY LIFE” (lol Edmund it’s also the last week of your life)

-he 100% realized at “No, by mine honor, madam”.

-Albany stands at the opposite end of the desk. He never moves any closer or further from Edmund than the opposite end of the desk. Goneril would have moved closer but Albany is blocking her.

-as Edmund leaves he puts on his military commander hat of some sort and adjusts it while looking in a mirror or some other reflective surface. Just to show he’s still the same Edmund from act one- he still cares about his appearance to an extent.

-at “the enemy’s in view, draw up your powers.” Edmund half-jogs in back onto the stage- showing that he wasn’t just commanding the soldiers ( if he was he’d have been walking at a moderate pace), but he was actually with them, to some extent, fighting along side them on the battlefield.

- (Future Edette Editing here: yeah so I deleted the notes on the soliloquy here. I didn’t like them. Oh well.)

ACT 5 SCENE 3

-wow it’s hard to make this Edmund guy redeemable/sympathetic when he kills off Cordelia. Like. He really didn’t need to do that

-why, Edmund. Why must you do this.

-you’re making my job here (ie to make you sympathetic) very difficult.

-ANYWAY. I’ll do what I can for this scene

-The captain here? Yeah, he’s Curan from earlier. Edmund made him a captain. There you have it, Edmund’s one semi-redeeming factor for this scene

-I really don’t know how to have this part play out in a way that makes the audience sympathize with Edmund. This is the best I can do.

(Future Edette Editing: yeah so honestly killing off Cordelia and Lear was a logical and strategic move to make, tbh. ((Not morally fantastic. But logical.)) Because yeah Albany would have left them alive and then what? They’d get the throne? Let’s be real here- the country’s already collapsing- the last thing you need is Lear or Cordelia on the throne. Even *Albany* would do a better job than either of them. And he wouldn’t do anything at all. So. Yeah.)

-I’m so burnt out right now I know this isn’t the quality content you came here for but I don’t know how to get this back on track either. ANYWAY I am dedicated to finishing this. Let’s go! There isn’t much left to the play! I’m almost done!

-at “Sir, by your patience, I hold you but a subject of war..” Albany speaks in a very harsh tone- talking to Edmund as if he were a child who interrupted class for like the eighth time that day. Albany’s just salty that his wife likes Edmund more than him.

(Future Edette Editing: Sorry if this doesn’t flow well here anymore- I deleted a bunch of stuff)

-as the argument continues, Regan and Goneril get more frantic because they see they’re not winning.

-Albany gets louder and angrier because he’s frustrated that his wife likes Edmund more than she likes him. Also because at this point, he pretty much hates Edmund.

-Edmund, however, is the quietest out of all the yelling people around him. He doesn’t like arguments- or rather, he doesn’t like when he’s the one the argument is directed towards. He tries to stay calm and talk in a level voice. As everyone around him argues he tries to step in between them and silently play the role of peacekeeper.

-at “Nor in thine, my lord” Edmund is still calm./ not yelling at him. He says it like he’s stating a fact, not contributing to the argument.

-at “half blooded fellow, yes!” My book’s translation to modern english say “Bastard, it is!”. And like. No one’s called him a bastard for like 4 whole acts now. All I have to say to this is Big Oof. (Is that a dead meme? Yeah. Probably.) Edmund is surprised at first- then glares at him- in a way saying “oh? You want to go there? We can go there. I’ll gladly fight you with my own two hands.”

-at “I will mainly my truth and honor” he draws his sword, which I have now decided definitely is Cornwall’s sword. Why does he have it? Idk, Regan probably gave it to him.

-As Edgar and Albany talk before the fight, Edmund swings his sword at nothing in particular- the way you’d see people warming up for a fight. This sword is not a two handed sword, so he’ll be fine even with his stabbed arm. As I mentioned earlier, he stabbed his non-dominant arm, so his sword arm is fine.

-at “In wisdom I should ask thy name..” he does something to indicate that he might know it’s Edgar. What does he do? I don’t know. Something with a whole lot of ✨symbolism✨. I’ll figure it out before posting this. Or maybe I won’t. (Future Edette Editing: Yeah so I figured out what to do here slightly after, and I have a whole post about it- but to sum it up, he looks at the *mysterious masked man*’s sword (which as you may recall was his). And he’s like “oh. Oh. Ok then.”)

-they fight. Edgar (as I previously mentioned) is using the sword Edmund gave him at the beginning. Edmund is using Cornwall’s sword.

-As they fight it’s clear that they’re pretty evenly matched. (I mean. Then again, Edmund was just helping in battle like two seconds ago while Edgar was just chilling with his half dead/dead father. So. Edmund’s trying to win a duel after just doing a bunch of exhausting physical activity while Edgar is not.) (Edmund would win if they were fighting when they were both at their strongest)

-(I’ve mentioned this in a previous post, but I’m gonna restate it so that you don’t mess up on how you imagine the fight going down. There’s only one valid interpretation of it, and it’s my own interpretation. That has literally never been used in any production. Yup. That’s the only valid way to imagine the duel.) ANYWAY. As they fight, Edmund seems to be about to win, when Edgar hits his already stabbed arm. Edmund loses focus in that one moment, because. Like. That’s painful. (I was gonna say he drops his sword, but does he? Does that work? I don’t know. If he does or doesn’t, it’s valid either way). Then Edgar stabs him. With is kinda even more painful, and somewhat fatal.

-After he’s stabbed, some random soldier brings him to the tent toward the back of the stage, where he stays until he’s brought off stage

Here’s an illustration to help you picture this:

-Edmund is more focused on his wound than the conversation. His tone and body language for the rest of the play conveys “You won! I lost! I’m sorry! Can I get medical attention now??”

-Headcanon that Edmund would have lived if he would have gotten some medical attention sooner

-at “yet Edmund was beloved” he does a little sarcastic laugh (not like a laugh laugh, more like a cynical nose exhale?)- he sees the irony of how all three of them trying to take their rightful power, and all dying at the same time as a result of it.

-while Edmund tells them they still have time to save Cordelia, he sinks down/lies down. He already accepted the fact that he’s going to die.

-while he’s delivering this news, Edgar and Albany look at him in shock and then at each other. From there to the rest of the scene, no one looks at Edmund again. Not because they don’t like him, just because they find him irrelevant now (which Albany outright states a few lines from here).

-When Albany tells the soldiers to take Edmund off the satge/away from there, he doesn’t look at Edmund, he just vaguely motions to him.

-At “Edmund is dead, my lord” “That’s but a trifle here”, Albany barely turns to look at the messenger. He doesn’t care that Edmund is dead. No one does. The wheel has come full circle. No one cared about Edmund at the start, and he’s just as irrelevant now. Edmund wanted to be something to people. He would have wanted them to react to his death. If they had celebrated it, he would have been happier than if they ignored it. He doesn’t even get that much.

-The Curtains Close. The Play Is Over-

#king lear #shakespeare #Do you know how many HOURS went into this??#...because I don’t #I genuinely have no idea how many hours went into this #I was studying for midterms at the same time as writing this #so the hours spent on this and this alone were probably around 5?#5 hours sounds legit

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