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#they both get a moment to be free from all their troubles in each other's company
pandoraslxna · 1 year
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Three is always unfortunate
Stepbro Neteyam x female Na‘vi reader
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Words: 1.8k
Summary: Neteyam is ready to do everything in his might to protect his precious little sister. Especially from mean boys that can’t keep their hands to themselves.
Warnings: explicit smut, minors dni, stepcest (= they’re not related by blood), bully!aonung, slight age difference, everyone is aged up!!, kinda dark / mean neteyam, degradation kink, overprotective & possessive behavior, hints of sexual harassment, graphic description of violence (not towards reader) , blood, rough sex, oral, implied voyeurism,… damn this really has it all
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That was his first mistake.
To be fair, you weren’t even supposed to talk to him at all, Neteyam told you that enough of times already. But the moment Ao'nungs very fingertips made contact with your skin –the soft, warm skin of your thigh, that was strictly forbidden for anyone to even look at– even though you told him no several times already… That was his first mistake.
"You heard what she said", Neteyam all but growls at him, shoving him away from you with a rough push to his chest, "Back. Off." His fist itches, ready to knock that guy out, just like his dad had taught him from a young age. But Ao'nung just laughs in his face. "Oh, look at that. Big brother comes to the rescue", he says mockingly and his hand reaches out for you again. Teasingly, he pulls at your tail and you shriek, before you rush over to hide behind your older brother‘s back. That was his second mistake.
"What? We were just talking. She’s old enough to hang out with a real men, you know, have some fun. It’s not that serious", Ao'nung winks at you, tongue darting out to lick his lips and he’s clearly being ambiguously. Neteyam can see it in his eyes, the way they’re basically undressing you, how he imagines your taste on his tongue, his ears twitching as if he could hear your moans in his head.
And that was his third mistake.
He was so dead.
Neteyams fist hit him with full force, hearing a crack as either a tooth or the bone under his left eye socket shattered. Ao'nung stumbles and falls to the sandy ground with a grunt and in the blink of an eye, Neteyam was on him. Four punches later and he landed a hit on his nose, breaking the cartilage with a sickeningly satisfactory crack that sounded disgusting to your ears.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
"I'm– I‘m sorry", you whine in all honesty, "I won’t do it again, 'Teyam– fuck!"
"You know I hate, hate, hate when you talk to these guys", Neteyam hisses, underlining each word with a thrust of his hips. "Can’t fucking listen to me for once, huh? Always getting yourself in trouble just for your big bro to come and rescue you." He pistols his hips against yours, fast and hard, the obscene sounds of flesh against flesh filling both of your ears. You’re just glad Neteyam had dragged you further away from the village, before you’ve found yourself in your current position. Like this, you were at least free to be as loud as you liked. As loud as he liked. Only the great mother herself knew what would happen, if your parents would ever find out about this thing going on between you and your step brother. But you had other things in mind right now, your brain too fucked out already, to form any coherent thoughts anyways.
"You know, I’m slowly starting to believe that this shit turns you on", Neteyam’s tone is mockingly and you can’t help but clench around his cock as he speaks. "You like it when I get my hands dirty for you? Like when your big bro beats them unconscious just for looking at you the wrong way? Yeah bet you do, dirty girl." One of his hands loosened from the bruising grip he had on your hip and then slides all the way up to your breasts. Instead of teasing or kneading them, he goes straight to grabbing a nipple inbetween his thumb and index finger. He rolls and pinches, until they turn to hard pebbles under his rough treatment and you whine, your back arching even more. "Answer me when I‘m talking to you", he tsks.
"Yes, oh fuck, 'Teyam", you moan ever so sweetly it makes his heart ache, "Like it when you pr– oh! W-when you protect me!"
"And you know what? I like that too. Fuck, I love it. I’d beat them all to death– every possible mate, every man that tries to lay their hands on you, because you’re mine. My sweet little sis, I’ll always protect you. None of them will ever be good enough for you." And you know he’s right. He had already ruined you for everyone else the first time he laid his hands on you, the first time he looked at you with that spark in his eyes, the first time he made you cum. You would never consider anyone else for you. It was him or nobody.
Neteyam lowers himself to kiss you softly, in contrast to the almost brutal force of his hips smacking against yours, hard enough to leave bruises he’ll need to find an excuse for later or his dad was going to skin him. His fingers move to press against your clit, rubbing and stroking and you moan into the kiss.
Your velvety, wet walls are enough to drive your big brother crazy. Neteyam doesn’t think he could ever fuck anybody else, having been so used to your pussy afterall these years of spending time with you, discovering each others bodies and all the first times you’ve shared with him. Knowing what makes you twitch, what makes you melt. Moments ranging from cuddling and sweet-talking, then escalating to him balls deep inside your pussy, the friction of your jointed bodies driving you closer to the edge until you came around him with those sweet, familiar moans.
"And I’ll ruin you for everybody else", he groans, "I’m gonna fuck you so good, until you finally behave like the good little girl that you are and until you finally fuckin' listen to me and shit— no one will ever satisfy you the way your big brother does, am I right? Tell me I‘m right, pretty girl, let me hear you say it."
Your older brother is absolutely relentless when it comes to fucking you. Sure, he can have his sweet moments, but not on days like this. Not when he was proven right, that men only ever want one thing from you, that they want to corrupt his sweet and innocent sister and when he has to be so overprotective of you, because you’re just too dumb to realize people’s true intentions. And not when he’s so, so jealous of other men just looking at you the wrong way, let alone touch you.
You swear you can feel him in your stomach, the head of his cock bruising hard against your cervix again and again. "Yes, yes fuck, you’re right! Right— right there 'teyam!", you brabble whatever nonsense comes to your fucked out mind, your need to climax so shamefully on display that it made him groan in delight. Only he could make you feel this way.
"Are you coming already, baby? Gonna cum on your brothers cock? Such a dirty girl, look at you all fucked out, drunk on my cock and I’m not even done with you yet", his words come out as something between a moan and a laugh and it’s degrading, but you love it. You can’t help it. You love when he’s mean, love when he takes his anger out on you like this because he’s even sweeter to you afterwards.
Like a good brother, he helps you ride out your orgasm– hips still snapping against yours, even if they’re not set in rhythm like previously. Neteyam moans when he feels the flood of your own cum on his cock, a feeling that should never even feel that good. You’re like a curse. Or more like drug to him. What else would describe it best, because you made him feel so incredibly good, yet you were something forbidden. Something he shouldn’t even have consumed in the first place because it was wrong. But he was already addicted and now couldn’t resist anymore.
"I‘m gonna fill you up, gonna cum inside that tight pussy, yeah? You’re gonna let your brother cum inside you? Make you feel all hot and sticky inside, my precious girl", Neteyam hisses out, manhandling you with the rough grip of his hands placed on your hips along with his cock bruising your insides. Your legs shake and tremble, harder this time due to the absolute wave of pleasure washing over your step brother, as he keeps fucking into you like you were begging for it. And in your mind, you were.
Neteyam’s orgasm hits him full force, his hips bucking and hands clawing your hips in a death grip, while you feel his hot and thick, gooey cum dump itself inside your pussy. His eyes are squeezed shut as his rhythm finally falters and then he slumps over you with a thud.
He’s heavy on top of you, almost crushing you under his weight but you relish in the feeling. His face is pressed in the space between your neck and shoulder, and his warm breath tickles against your skin. Waiting for a few moments to shake off the overwhelming feeling, he then starts to leave wet kisses here and there, littering on your jawline and the space behind your ear.
"No more talking to boys, alright?", he mumbles against your skin and you can’t help but giggle. "Alright", you assure him with a smile. You can feel him shift on top of you and then one of his legs nudges your thighs further apart. His kisses travel lower with every beat of your heart, until he’s passed your navel and reached your pubic bone. With his thumbs on either side of your core, he spreads you lips until your clit comes into view. You inhale a sharp breath when cold air brushes against your wet skin. "This is your last chance, sis. Be glad I‘m in a good mood today", Neteyam says with kiss to that little bundle of nerves and a gasp falls from your lips, "If you don’t listen to me again, I won’t let you cum at all. Maybe I’ll even let Ao'nung watch you beg for my cock, before I kill him."
You nod your head, eager to please him and with that, Neteyam completely buries his head between your thighs— licking and sucking on every inch of skin he can reach, until you’re nothing but a moaning, shaking mess below him. Because he truly was the only one to ever make you feel like this.
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pitchsidestories · 28 days
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underneath your clothes II Cata Coll x Reader
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masterlist I word count: 1687
a/n: based off the cute request here. We're really craving a tattoo on our own now after finishing this oneshot. 😂
You knew tattoos were your passion since you had gotten your first one aged eighteen. So by opening your own tattoo studio with your best friend, you had fullfilled one of your life goals in the last year.
It was not always easy but you loved your job, especially when you could make your clients happy with your artwork. But at the moment, business was slow.
You were focused on wiping down the counter when your best friend and coworker Carla grinned at you: “Your favourite customer is back, y/n.”
Surprised, you looked up and saw someone walk towards the door of your studio: “What? Oh, she‘s not my favourite customer, Cata has been her only once before.”
“She‘s still your favourite.”, Carla shrugged with a smug look on her face.
You grimaced at her: “I don‘t have favourites.” Turning to your customer, you greeted her: “Cata, hi.”
“Hi.”, the goalkeeper smiled at you.
“You‘re here for another tattoo?”, you asked politely.
She nodded: “I am.”
“Do you have something specific in mind?” You noticed her gaze linger on the inked skin of your left arm.
“Uhm, yeah…”, she replied, catching herself and looking back at your face.
You bit back a smile as you thrust your arm in her direction to show her the floral tattoo wraping around your forearm: “Liking this one?”
Catas cheeks reddened: “I do. It‘s beautiful.”
“Thank you.”, you replied. You could feel Carlas eyes on you.
“But I actually wanted to get something for my sister today. Maybe next time.”, Cata explained.
“Oh, that‘s sweet.”
The football player continued while she gestured towards her upper arm: “Yeah, I want it to be on my arm. I was thinking about a wave or something.”
“Is there a meaning behind the wave?”, you asked curiosly while simultaneously trying to picture the perfect tattoo for her.
Cata nodded with excitement: “Yes, we grew up in Mallorca…”
“Thats is adorable. I love when people tell me the meaning of their tattoos.”, you happily replied while getting your sketchbook.
“Ever been to the island?”, Cata asked while she watched you starting to draw different kinds of waves.
Without looking up from your work, you explained: “Actually, yes. My mother was born there and part of her family still lives there so we spend all of the vacations in my childhood there.”
You could hear the astonishment in her voice: “Wait, you did?”
“Yes.”
“That‘s a funny coincidence.”
You slid the sketchbook in Catas direction so she could have a look: “Who knows, maybe we‘ve met each other before without knowing. So which wave do you like best?”
The goalkeeper looked thoughtfully at the drawings in front of her:” I like that one.”
With a dreamy smile on her lips Cata continued: “This is a nice thought actually. That we might have already met before.”
“I agree.”, you responded in a warm tone.
“I’m going to the coffeeshop, would you two like an iced coffee?”, Carla chirmed.
“Sure.”, you nodded.
“Nothing beats iced coffee on a warm spring day.”, the Barcelona player confirmed.
“So true.”, you agreed.
After Carla left the coffeeshop Cata promised you with a wink:” Next time, I’ll bring you an iced coffee before I show up.”
“You want another one already? Don’t you get into trouble for it from your coach or something.”, you raised an eyebrow at her.
Confidently she waved it off: “Oh, no. If it’s done in my free time, he can’t say anything about it.”
“Okay, good.”, you sighed relived.
“Don’t worry. I won’t get in trouble.”, the professional athlete replied.
“I’m glad to hear that.”
“Also, it’s just a small one.”, Cata reminded you while you were drawing the wave on her skin with a needle.
For a moment you looked up from your work:” Right.”
Meanwhile Carla had returned, bringing the coffees immediately to both of you:” Hey girls, I’m back.”
“Thank you, Carla.”, you answered sincerely.
“You’re welcome.”, she mumbled.
You quickly took a sip from the coffee before asking her:” What do you think of Catas new tattoo.”
After your friend took a closer look at your art piece, she whistled: “Oh, this is nice.”
“It symbolizes my sister.”, Cata explained beaming.
“How cute.”, Carla smirked.
While they talked for a bit you added the finishing touches until the tattoo was done:” Now you’re ready to go, Cata.”
“Thanks. I love it.”, the goalkeeper told you happily.
“My pleasure.”, you said and meant every word whole heartedly.
She stood up excitedly:” I’ll call you soon for a new appointment.”
“Alright.”, you answered.
After Cata has left your best friend declared dramatically:” That poor girl.”
“What?”, you frowned at her.
“Oh please, don’t play dumb.”, Carla begged you groaning.
This was the moment you realized what she has been hinting at:” Don’t worry. Next time, I’ll ask her out.”
Normally you didn’t open to customers like you did with the Barcelona player. Even though it was you who was the person who has seen her upper body without clothes, her dark eyes seemed to have seen right through you.
“You should.”, your friend grinned.
You couldn’t help but to blush as you thought about Cata:” She’s so cute, Carla.”
“I could tell that you thought that.”
Guys! Cata has a crush on her tattoo artist!“, Claudia yelled full of excitement.
The other Barcelona players looked up from their team dinner with varying degrees of curiousity and surprise while Catas cheeks turned red. A minute ago, she had just shown her new tattoo to Claudia and Patri but the youngest midfielder had immediately caught on as she heard the way Cata talked about her tattoo artist.
“Oh, that’s why she’s getting so many tattoos recently!“, Ona exclaimed with laugh.
“That’s not true.“, Cata tried to defend herself.
Mariona just smiled sweetly at her: “That’s so cute, Cata.“
“Guys, stop.“
When Alexia finally spoke up, Cata had hoped that she would call her teammates back to order but instead she just tilted her head: “So, when are you going to see her again?“
“Whenever I get my next tattoo?“, the goalkeeper shrugged.
Patri raised an eyebrow: “And that’s soon?“
“I mean I do have an idea for the next one.“, Cata admitted with a small smile on her lips.
Salma shared a knowing look with Patri: “Guess this means very soon.“
Cata was back at your tattoo studio only a few weeks after her newest tattoo, this time with an iced coffee in hand. You caught yourself smiling subconsciously as you watched the football player walked in.
“Hi Cata.“, you greeted her and gratefully took the drink from her that she handed to you. “Thank you for the coffee.“
Cata smiled as you took a sip: “Told you, I’d bring you one.“
“Appreciate it.“
It was the perfect mix of sweet and bitter. Exactly how you liked it. You set down the coffee on the front desk and thoroughly looked at the goalkeeper: “But you know that you don’t have to get tattoos all the time to ask me out on a date.“
You rolled your eyes with a chuckle.
Cata looked at you dumbfounded: “Wait, what?“
“Cata, would you like to go on a date with me?“, you asked politely.
Her face immediately lit up: “I would love to.“
“Great.“, you said and had to bite back a laugh as Carla pumped her fist in excitement behind Cata.
But the goalkeeper caught your attention again: “When is your shift over?“
“At 5 pm.“, you replied truthfully.
Cata nodded with a big grin on her face: “I’ll pick you up then?“
You nodded happily: “Yes, okay.“
“Perfect.“
Cata left the studio without a tattoo this time but she did leave the feeling of butterflies in your stomach instead.
At exactly 5 pm, Cata waited for you in front of the studio. From what you saw through the window, she looked great in her button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to showcase her tattoos. You could barely wait to close the studio.
When you finally locked the door behind yourself, the two of you awkwardly smiled at each other and you had to admit that Cata looked even better when she was right in front you.
You pointed at the picnic basket she was holding in her right hand: “Where are we going?“
“Just trust me, follow me.”, the goalkeeper replied warmly.
You didn’t know why but you trusted her immediately. Walking along side Cata made you feel safe and welcomed. When you reached the destination, you stood there in awe: “Oh my god, the view is stunning.”
“It’s, right?”, she grinned at you.
Truthfully you told her:” Yes, I love it.”
“I hoped you would.”, the player answered satisfied.
Watching at Barcelona from a distance made your worries surrounding your tattoo studio look small in comparison and you felt lighter in the company of the other woman, so you mouthed into her direction a heartfelt thank you.
“Here’s some food.”, Cata hummed, handing you some antipasti to eat.
Closing your eyes you mumbled:” It’s delicious.”
“Wine?”, she asked you, proving to be the perfect gentlewoman.
“Sure.”, you nodded, as the goalkeeper filled your glasses and you both took a deep sip.
“You know I would have come by to get a million more tattoos just to spend time with you.”, Cata confessed with a wink.
You looked into her eyes amused:” I do, so I had to save you from yourself.”
“That’s sweet. But I still want some more.”, the goalkeeper smirked.
Quickly you promised her:” You can get them one at a time.”
“I will.”
With that said you went forward to kiss her, she gladly replied to the kiss, pulling you closer to her, to fully embrace you in her strong arms.
A few weeks had gone by, and Cata and you were officially girlfriends. You were in the tattoo studio when Carla excitedly exclaimed:” Y/n? Thanks to your girlfriend a lot of her teammates have asked us to do their tattoos!”
Hearing that you hugged your girlfriend gratefully:” Love!”
“You’re welcome.”, Cata whispered.
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gyeomsweetgyeom · 2 months
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[11:04 pm]
(cw: f!reader, idol!reader)
This was likely the best concert you'd ever been to. It was lively, fun, and the best time you'd had in a while. And you're an idol! You sang along to all the songs and danced with little to no worries in the world.
The next song started, a familiar beat started, your favorite song. You turned to Jaehyun excitedly squealing as the instruments started up. He smiled at you brightly, nodding his head along with the music.
“Ooh, don’t we look good together?” Bruno Mars started singing.
You raised your arms, swaying side to side, singing along without a care in the world. This night had been amazing. Ever since becoming an idol, there had been very few times where you felt free out in public. You always felt like you had to lol over your shoulder, be proper, and on your best behavior in case something got you in trouble.
There were always cameras pointed at you, but not tonight. Bruno Mars had a running habit for his shows which worked out great for you as an idol, your boyfriend who was an idol, and other celebrities who very rarely got to be out in public without the fear of a camera on them. You and Jaehyun were lucky that both your companies supported your relationship, but that didn’t mean all fans did. Even though your relationship was confirmed, you and Jaehyun very rarely went out publicly just for your own comfort. The lack of cameras and phones at this camera made it all the more exciting on top of the fact that you both loved Bruno Mars.
The cameras around the venue jumped around to different people in the audience as the song went on. “Fellas grab your ladies if your lady fine,” Bruno sang.
The band paused, “I said fellas grab your ladies if your lady fine.” The cameras jumped to a couple, as the woman was pulled in and given a kiss. You hadn't realized the cameras were going to jump around the audience and show the fellas grabbing their ladies.
“Let’s try this again, fellas grab your ladies if your lady fine,” Bruno Mars sang again. Before you could even process the image on the screen you felt Jaehyun wrapping his arms around your waist before dipping you back into a kiss. You laughed loudly, cupping his cheeks before placing a chaste kiss on his lips.
You stood upright, just catching the screen showing the two of you before switching to another couple as the line repeated once more as the song kept going.
You and Jaehyun danced the night away with each other, singing at the top of your lungs without a worry in the world. It hadn't even crossed your mind that surely people, fans of either you or Jaehyun, might break the rule of no phones and catch sight of you.
When you were both in the van ready to head home, the serotonin boost dropping to a tired calmness. Jaehyun let out a laugh, leaning over to show you his screen. Someone had captured the entire video of you and Jaehyun from one of the big screens. You could see the dazzling smile on Jaehyun's face and the look of surprise on your face as he dipped you back. You had been so in the moment that you hadn't even heard the sharp rise in cheers and volume when you and Jaehyun appeared on the screen.
It was a cute video and you were glad someone had captured it. Scrolling through the comments, it looked like people agreed. The video had been posted almost an hour ago and already had over 100 thousand reposts. You were even trending! Some people in the comments even admitted to not knowing who either of you were but wanted to become fans.
You handed the phone back with a smile, "someone said that if I ever get tired of you, they'll take care of me. They offered to take care of all my plants while I'm away and make me dinner every night."
Jaehyun playfully rolled his eyes, "most of the comments were about you. I forget how much the internet adores my girlfriend."
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blahblahblees · 3 months
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ヽ`、☁ヽ`─── fantasize ミ rodrick heffley
✎ ·˚ ༘ ─── after some “fun in the sun” the heffley’s catch a side of rodrick that they rarely see.
wc: 785
movie!rodrick heffley x fem!reader (use of she/her pronouns)
tw: kissing/making out (?) mentioned
a/n: this was a reblog request :)
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RODRICK HAD been known by his to be this “rockstar” who didn’t have much care in the world. He cared more so about his band than his schoolwork and his music more than the chore list that had been miles and miles long that he always made Greg do with the help of Rowley.
But somehow, someway, Rodrick had a small soft spot in his heart for his family and his girlfriend. That spot, though small, could hold the weights of the world and they all knew that in their very special way.
And if girlfriend knew that Rodrick loved her in his own special way.
He wrote songs about her, he invited her to his gigs, he sat around while she study, they made out in the back of his van… all love in his own very special way.
Even now.
It was dark and late into the night when Rodrick had invited her over. She didn’t plan on staying long, not because she didn’t want to, it was because she didn’t want to intrude on the Heffley family dinner, but he, along with Susan, insisted that she was no bother.
But she’d been over for hours and had been cooped up in Rodrick’s room the entire time.
They’d listen to music, they listened to his music, they jumped up and down and called it dancing. They were with each other and this was a side that many people didn’t see of Rodrick, not even his family.
After that, the two of flopped down on Rodrick’s bed. She held her hands over her mouth to stifle her laughter but Rodrick propped himself on his elbow and took his free hand to remove her hands from her mouth.
She continued to stifle her laughs as Rodrick smiled down at her, drawing closer and closer to her lips and gently placed them on top of hers, which quickly made her laughs disappear and more so focus on him.
It was a gentle, exploratory kiss, with Rodrick's lips moving slowly against hers as they both savored the moment. His hand came up to cup her cheek, his thumb brushing back and forth along her skin.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened. She ran her fingers through his tousled hair, enjoying the feel of it under her fingertips.
As the kiss continued, she felt her heartbeat quicken and her breathing grow shallow. She was completely lost in the moment, her whole being focused on the sensation of his lips on hers.
Rodrick's hand moved from her cheek to the back of her head, deepening the kiss even further.
It was like nothing she had ever experienced before, and she never wanted it to end.
THERE WAS a gentle knock on Rodrick’s door and on the other side of it had been his little brother Greg. It wasn’t often that the boy knocked, but he knew that his girlfriend was over and from the previous time… he knew to knock.
But Rodrick nor his girlfriend made any noise on the other side of the door. He continue to knock to let them know that dinner had been ready and they needed to come down to each per Susan’s request.
But again, nothing had been heard on the other side, so he shrugged his shoulders and made his way back downstairs to let his mother know that Rodrick wasn’t answering to his knock.
Susan gently put down her napkin and made her way upstairs into Rodrick’s room. And for Greg? This was gold and was something that could only happen once in his lifetime.
Though he knew that he wouldn’t get into too much trouble by skipping out on dinner, it was enough trouble for Greg to grab his camera and prepare for Rodrick to be completely embarrassed in front of his girlfriend.
So, as soon as Susan knocked on Rodrick’s door, Greg hit record.
“Rodrick, sweetie.” Susan called. “It’s time for dinner.”
But once more, absolutely nothing.
So Susan gently grabbed the doorknob and twisted it open. And inside laid Rodrick and his girlfriend laying in his bed with their eyes shut. Rodrick’s arm draped over her as her hand laid gently interlocked with his.
Her shirt had been swapped with one of Rodrick’s Löded Diper shirt that neither Greg nor Susan commented on.
Greg groaned, cutting his camera off and making their way back downstairs to eat his dinner with his father and little brother, Manny.
Susan held a small smile on her face, her hand over her heart as she gently shut the door behind her, making note to save some of the dinner for the two of them.
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— lucy has something to say !!
i feel as if this is short and i’m sad about it sadge
my request are opened! check out my rules and such before request and check out my masterlist to see who i write for!
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oracle-of-dream · 4 months
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Him or Me
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Minors DNI
Summary: You've been put together for a group project with Heeseung, another one of Jake's friends. Jake is sure Heeseung is plotting to take you away from him, so Jake has to make sure you know where you belong... Notes: Male reader, handjob (Jake rec.), cum swallowing, Jealous Jake, Teasing Heeseung
Wordcount: 1.9k
This is a request!
The clock was five minutes away from ending class, ticking loudly as it echoed in the silent class. It was another exam for you to do, which you finished almost thirty minutes ago but you had to wait till the end of class for an announcement from your professor.
Next to you, your boyfriend, Jake, was struggling through the last part of the exam. It was a free response, so you knew he’d take a while before deciding to write.
“You might want to write something soon, you’re running out of time,” you whisper to him. 
He glared at you knowingly, not trying to get in trouble for talking too loudly. 
You played on your phone until the last second of the exam when the alarm went off. The student assistants collected all the papers, Jake was still scribbling the last of his answers before they had to take it from him. Once all the exams were collected, the professor explained our next major assignment. A small interview with another person in the class to understand unique points of view when put in new situations.
Jake beamed with excitement at hearing an easy grade. A simple Q&A with his boyfriend to boost his grades was just what he needed after the exam. But Jake shrank back into his seat when the professor announced they’d already been assigned partners by a personality quiz they’d given on the first day.
“Each of you has been matched with someone you may potentially click with because of your similar personalities. Or, you could be purposefully put with someone who strongly opposes your beliefs too. Make sure to keep things civil and respectful. That’s all.” The professor sent out the email of who’s been put with whom and left the class before anyone could protest about their partners.
Jake searched the list for his name but he found yours first. “Oh! Babe, you’re with…”
You noticed Jake stopped talking. “What is it?”
Jake’s expression darkened with irritation. “It’s… him.”
“Him, who?”
“Him, me, I’m guessing. Right, Jake?” A familiar voice sounded cheerfully behind you.
You looked over your shoulder to see Heeseung standing there. Heeseung had a weird love-hate relationship with Jake. On some things, they’d be the best of friends over. On other topics, it would be impossible to think they’d ever get along.
Heeseung looked you up and down. “Hey, y/n. It’s good to see you,” he winked.
Jake let out a huff of air before packing the rest of his things.
“Oh? Jake, don’t be like that.” Heeseung swung his arm over your shoulder, leaning on you. “It’s not like we’re going to do anything bad, it’s just a project!” He giggled with joy at messing with Jake.
You honestly loved seeing Jake get jealous. Heeseung had a naturally flirty nature to him, so Jake was always on guard with him when it came to you. But he was still your boyfriend, so you had to support Jake, even if he was hard-headed.
“Jake, why don’t we interview at your place? You can sit with us and be there the whole time.” You shrugged off Heeseung’s arm and hugged Jake’s back. “Please?”
Jake took a moment to consider it. And Heeseung chimed in.
“Unless you want him to be at my place?” He smiled devilishly, trying to goad Jake into talking.
Jake took the bait without hesitation. “No! Both of you will meet me at my place.” He turned to you, “You’ll be there an hour before he gets there.” Then turned to Heeseung, “and you’ll leave as soon as you’re done.” Jake huffed again as he took your hand and pulled you along with him out of the classroom as Heeseung let the two of you walk by. 
“It’s always a good time talking to you Jake!” He shouted as Jake stormed down the hallway.
Getting to Jake’s house, he was quiet the whole ride over. Jake loved talking to you, even if it was about nothing, he loved getting to hear you speak to him. But you couldn’t think of anything to say while you knew he was in his head, he wouldn’t even hear you anyway
Jake parked at his place, got out of the car, and opened your door for you. Even when angry, Jake could never forget his manners. He unlocked the front door, let you walk in first, and then started making a snack for the two of you.
It was still bothering him, but he was trying to act like it wasn’t.
“Jake. Please talk to me, babe.” You begged.
“What do you wanna talk about?” 
“Anything, I just want to hear you.”
“Do you like Heeseung?”
You knew he was going to throw that at you. “No. I don’t. And you know I don’t like it when you imply that I’d leave you for him like that.”
Jake looked at you with wet eyes. “I know… He just gets under my skin without even trying! It’s just so–”
The doorbell rang.
You both looked at each other before he walked to the door to answer it. You followed him to see who was there. Jake opened the door to see Heeseung standing outside.
“What the hell? What are you doing here so early? We just got home.”
Heeseung shrugged. Y/n shares their location with me, so I figured I’d just come over now so we can get to work sooner. Then maybe we could go get some dinner later.
Jake cocked his head to the side and looked at you with a glare.
“Jake, we’re friends. Friends share their locations. Heeseung even has your location.” You complained.
Jake turned his attention to Heeseung again. “He’s not going anywhere with you.”
“I meant, we all go out to dinner,” Heeseung said dryly. 
“Whatever, just come in and do the friggin thingy already,” Jake said as he walked away from the door and back into the kitchen.
You let Heesung in and closed the door behind him. You set up an audio recording on your phone and started asking him some of the interview questions you were assigned. Jake stood in the doorway, watching the two of you like a hawk.
Jake eventually started squirming and shuffling. Then sighing loudly. Even tapping his foot. All signs that Jake was ready for Heeseung to wrap it up, but it was ruining your audio recording. 
Heeseung must’ve noticed that you were getting irritated because he asked for a quick break. He pushed his chair away from the table and leaned back in it, manspreading widely. “Jakey, why don’t you come sit with us? You can sit on my lap while I answer the questions since you’re going to be a baby about it. Does the baby need to sit on my lap?” Heeseung teased.
Jake made a face and sat down in a chair next to you, dragging it on the floor to make a bunch of noise. He gently took your hand and kissed the back of it before letting you continue with the interview, but he didn’t let go of your hand. Every few answers, you could see Jake roll his eyes or make a face at Heeseung. Eventually, it was getting to be too much of a distraction for Heeseung, as he was starting to tease Jake back.
“Okay, how about we have a bit longer of a break? I gotta talk to Jake for a few.” You pushed Jake out of his seat and made him go into your shared bedroom. You closed and locked the door behind you. 
“Jesus, Jake! What am I going to do with you?” You fussed.
“I–” Jake started but stopped himself from giving an excuse. “I’m sorry, I’m not trying to get in the way. He’s just so… him.”
“What makes you think he has something that I’m looking for in a boyfriend that you don’t already have? You have everything I could want.” You stroke his cheek as you come close to him for a soft kiss on his lips.
Jake wrapped his arms around you. He slipped his tongue into the kiss and you gasped as he picked you up. He carried you to the bed and sat down on the bed, letting you rest on his lap. He placed soft kisses on your collarbone before giving bites on your flesh, moving up your neck to your ears. His hands spread your legs and wrapped them around his waist. He started playing with your thighs, slowly crawling up until he got to the waistline of your pants.
You stop him. “Heeseung’s still here, if we do that he’ll hear us.” 
Jake frowned. “Does he even matter right now? It’s our time.”
You kissed him again. “We can have that kind of fun tonight, okay? After dinner.” You tried to climb off of Jake, but he wouldn’t let you go.
“You can’t leave me like this…” He looks down at the tent in his pants. “It hurts so bad, I need you.”
“My poor baby,” you cooed at him as your hand rubbed him through his jeans. “We can’t fuck, but I can at least help you, okay?”
Jake nodded as a look of relief spilled across his face from your touch, his hips lifting to rub against your hand.
You climb off him and slide his pants down enough for his cock to spill out into your hands. The throbbing, dripping shaft of him jumped as you touched it. His tip was already leaking like crazy, and you used your fingers to rub over it. Earning moans and twitches of pleasure. 
“More,” Jake demanded. “Please…” He corrected himself as he felt you squeeze his cock tightly, warning him to keep his head on.
You moved your hand up and down his cock, his hips automatically moving to meet you. The feeling was already the best for him. He loved feeling touch from you, even just a pat on the head could get him rock hard. You speed up as you see his eyes shut and his face scrunched so cutely.
“T-That’s it, keep going!” He begged.
You took it further; focusing one hand on his tip and the other on his base, working him over completely. 
Jake could barely keep still, shaking and his right leg kept twitching. He whimpered to you, “I’m so close, p-please, help me. I don’t want a mess.”
You brought your mouth down to his tip and replaced your hand with it, preparing for him to finish in your mouth. The wet sensations were enough to immediately knock him over, as he shot his cum down your throat with one hand in his hair. The other hand was holding your hand that was still stroking him.
“P-Please, stop!” Jake whined as you milked him completely for another minute. He convulsed and tears threatened his eyes. It was enough to make his eyes roll back and he held in a scream as you got the last drop of him. When you let go of him, he breathlessly thanked you before drifting off into unconsciousness.
You tucked him into bed properly and kissed his forehead. “I’ll be back soon.”
You went back to Heeseung to finish your interview undisturbed. Heeseung asked about where Jake went, sounding kind of sour like he’d known the answer already. 
“Jake felt a little tired after we talked. So I let him go to sleep so we could finish. I guess we’ll have to pass on that dinner tonight.” You smiled coyly.
Heeseung smiled and left you alone as he went back home. Letting you get back to your boyfriend who was beginning to stir. Maybe Jake would be ready for round two by now…
447 notes · View notes
bonefall · 5 months
Note
⭕️Hey Bones! Is it ok if you explain and/or elaborate how Crowfeather is abusive to Breezepelt if please?⭕️
I do KNOW that crowfeather is indeed, abusive to Breezepelt, due to the fact that he emotionally and/or physically neglected him - with child neglect being known to BE a form of child abuse - and I also heard that he slashed and/or hit him within one of the books, which I believe is in the book Outcast, in chapter 16.
But I also wish people would talk and be informed about it more within the fandom, because in the parts of the fandom I’ve known portrayed Crowfeather’s neglect on Breezepelt as negative and bad, but not in a way that made me think and/or feel: “Wow, that’s pretty bad. That’s…actually abusive.” I suppose? So I hope more people will talk about it more in that type of way.
Also, please be aware that I have NOT read PoT, OoTS, etc. or barely any warrior cats books, since the majority of the information I got from the series is from the wiki and the fandom, so that probably explains why I didn’t know this part of Crowfeather’s character is as bad as it actually is until now. Also, feel free to talk about Crowfeather’s abuse on Breezepelt I haven’t mentioned and/or don’t know right now as well if you want.
I’m SO sorry that if this ask is unintentionally quite long, and feel free to make sure to take all the time you need to answer it. Thank you!
OH LET'S GOOOO
Breezepelt is both physically and emotionally abused by Crowfeather. I'm not talking about only child neglect; he is screamed at, belittled, and even once hit on-screen.
The fact that Crowfeather both neglected and abused him is very important to the canonical story of Breezepaw. There's actually a lot more to this character than people remember! Even from his first appearances he displays good qualities, a strained relationship with his father and adult clanmates, and is clearly shown to be troubled before we understand why.
As many problems as I have with the direction of Breezepelt's arc (especially Crowfeather's Trial), his setup is legitimately a praiseworthy bit of writing from Po3 which carries over into OotS. To say that Breezepelt was not abused is to completely miss two arcs worth of books SCREAMING it.
BIG POST. Glossary;
INTRO TO BREEZEPELT: The Sight and Dark River
ABUSE: Outcast, Social Alienation, the Tribe Journey.
DARK FOREST: How these factors push him towards radicalization.
For "brevity," I'm not getting into anything post-OotS. I'm just showing that Breezepelt was abused, the narrative wants you to know that he was abused, and that his status as a victim of child abuse is CENTRAL to understanding why he is training in the Dark Forest.
INTRO TO BREEZEPELT: The Sight and Dark River
Our very first introduction to Breeze is when Jaypaw walks off a cliff in the first book of Po3 and is rescued by a WindClan patrol. He's making snarky remarks, and Whitetail and Crowfeather are not happy about it. Whitetail snaps for Crow to teach his son some manners, and Crow growls for Breezepaw to be quiet.
But our proper introduction to him is at his announcement gathering, when Heatherpaw playfully introduces him as a friend,
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From the offset something's not entirely right here between Breezepaw and his father. He's cut off by Heatherpaw here, but he's touchy whenever his father is involved, and we're not entirely sure why.
Throughout Book 1, he's just rude, with a notable xenophobic streak. He's a bit of a mean rival character for Lionpaw, as they're both interested in the affections of Heatherpaw and make bids to get her attention, but nothing particularly violent yet.
He participates in the beloved Kitty Olympics and gets buried in liquid dirt with Lionpaw, basically a rite of passage for any arc.
(And Nightcloud has a cute moment where she watches over them until they fall asleep)
As the books progress, the relationship between Crow and Breeze visibly deteriorates. They start from being simply tense with each other in The Sight, to the open shouting and hitting we see in Outcast.
In the very first chapter of Dark River, we learn where his behavioral issues are really coming from;
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Crowfeather.
Breezepelt is getting xenophobia from his father. Occasionally he says something bigoted and his dad will agree and chime in, and those are the only positive moments they have together.
(Note: In contrast, Nightcloud explicitly pushes back against xenophobia, chiding Breezepelt for his rudeness to Lionpaw in back in The Sight, Chapter 21. The Sight is the book where a lot of "evidence" that the Evil Overbearing Woman is actually responsible for the rift between father and son but. No. She's not. Though she can be overprotective; Crow and Breeze have a bad relationship when she's not even around in Breeze's first appearance and even his Crowfeather's Trial Epiphany refutes it. Anyway this post isn't about Nightcloud.)
So he starts acting on his bigotry, accusing cats in other Clans of stealing, running really close to the border. What's interesting though, is that this is not entirely his doing. The first time we get physical trouble from Breezepaw, DUSTPELT aggressed it. Breezepaw and Harepaw were just chasing a squirrel and hadn't yet gone over the border at all.
We learn that WindClan is teaching its apprentices how to hunt in woodland, and tensions between the two Clans is starting to escalate as ThunderClan isn't entirely trusting of their intentions.
The second time, fighting breaks out over him and Harepaw actually crossing the border and catching a squirrel. WindClan is adamant that because it came from their land, it's their squirrel. So it's as if Breezepaw is modelling the aggression around him, learning how to behave from the older warriors and his father.
When he joins Heatherpaw and The Three to go find Gorsetail's kits in the tunnels, he's grouchy towards the ThunderClan cats, but very gentle with the kittens. Notably so. When Thistlekit is dangerously cold, he cuddles up next to her, and even assures Swallowkit when she's scared,
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Through this entire excursion, he's the one in the comforting roles for the kittens. Breezepaw is the one who is taking time to tell the kits they'll be okay, that he'll protect them, and physically supporting them when they're weak, even when he's terrified.
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And it's always contrasted to Heatherpaw who's way more 'disciplined,' as a side note. It's a detail I'm just fond of.
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All this to point out,
Breezepelt displays his best qualities when he's away from the older warriors of WindClan, and he's at his worst whenever he's near Crowfeather. Even while he's essentially just a bully character for The Three to deal with. He's gruff but cooperative when it's just him and Heatherpaw interacting with The Three, but mean when there is an adult to please.
We're getting to the on-screen abuse now, but Po3 actually sets up Breezepaw's troubles and dynamics well before it's finally confirmed that he is a victim of child abuse.
ABUSE: Outcast, the Tribe Journey.
In Outcast, Breezepaw's problems have escalated into open aggression towards cats of other Clans, and is now a legitimate concern for his own safety. Yet, he's spoken over by older warriors, and reprimanded at nearly every opportunity, right in front of the warrior of another Clan.
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Squilf just asked the poor kid how his training was going, and then Whitetail JUMPS to talk over him so she can complain, RIGHT in front of his face.
They can't even wait until they're alone to grumble something rude about Breezepaw, who is still just a teenager here;
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They taught him already that a bit of prey that runs off their own territory still belongs to WindClan, encourage him to blow past borders in pursuit, and started a battle with ThunderClan over this. And then they're pissed off at him for being aggressive, thinking it's deserved to scold him in public.
When Onestar announces that he wants Breezepaw to go on the Tribe Journey, he's devastated by it...
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Because he thinks WindClan doesn't like him, and he's right. He's gossiped about, torn into in front of a ThunderClan warrior, and even his own dad doesn't want to be around him. It's clear that Breezepaw's impulsive "codebreaking" behaviors are a desire to prove himself, and once you realize that, the way that he's being alienated is heartbreaking.
But Wait!! Hold on a minute! Where did he get a "patrol of apprentices" from to confront the dogs with, exactly?
Simple. Breezepaw CAN make friends! He actually values them a lot! So much that it's the first thing Crowfeather snaps at him over, out of frustration that his son is also being forced on this journey with him. It's an angry response to his child having emotional and physical needs, resentment that will continue all journey long.
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Note that it's plural, friends. Breezepelt has multiple friends, at least one who is not Heatherpaw, and she promises to say goodbye to them.
Up next, they state over and over, Crowfeather and Breezepaw do not like each other. Crowfeather resents being around him and dealing with his rudeness, embarrassed and angry, and Breezepaw is absolutely miserable being sent on a journey to the mountains with a man who hates his guts.
The whole while, Crowfeather is brooding longingly about Feathertail, already thinking about her as soon as he kitty-kisses Nightcloud goodbye, his eyes looking somewhere distant. He makes a jab about loyalty when Breezepaw doesn't understand why they're helping the Tribe.
Breezepaw gets smacked after he's "shoved" at Purdy and acts rude to him, while the other three manage to be polite (while still having internal dialogue about how stinky he is).
Without so much as a, "cut that out," Crowfeather raises his paw and hits him. Breeze is quiet after that.
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I don't give a shit how rude your teenager is being. Do not hit kids. Being throttled on the head is not okay.
In spite of the Three not liking Breezepaw, or even Crowfeather, they're constantly noting that their arguments are not normal, and that Crow is a cold, unsupportive father who digs into his kid constantly, and the only time he ever DOES "discipline" his child it's through immediately smacking him.
At one point, the apprentices get hungry, and decide to foolishly hunt in a barn that they know has dogs in it against Purdy's warnings. Once again, JUST like the first two books, Breezepaw is more friendly when Crowfeather is not around.
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EVERY time he is alone with cats his own age, he's grumpy but cooperative. Even enthusiastic at times! The minute Crowfeather is in the picture, he's nasty.
Naturally, the dogs show up, but Purdy rescues them. Though Brambleclaw also chews his kids out (and i have strong opinions about bramble's parenting style for another time), Hollypaw is taken aback by the contrast of what a scolding from Brambleclaw looks like vs how Crowfeather reacts.
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The narrative is desperately trying to tell you that the way Crowfeather treats his son is not normal.
And then Crowfeather is pissed off that Breezepaw is exhausted from running for his life from hungry dogs,
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And he's constantly losing his shit whenever Breezepaw says something as innocuous as "dad im hungry"
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Then, Breezepaw is made to watch his dad pine over the grave of a woman who died long before Crowfeather was even considering his mother for a mate. What he feels is jealousy, because he knows his own father doesn't love him anywhere near as much as he loves the memory of Feathertail.
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This really goes on and on and on. The ENTIRE trip is like this, with Crowfeather treating Breezepelt poorly, giving him a smack before even verbally warning him, pushing him past his limits and blowing up on him when he asks simple questions about eating or resting.
It all comes to a head in this one exchange, towards the end. Hollypaw ends up snapping at Breezepaw for his rudeness, before having an epiphany.
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It's explicit. Crowfeather's emotional abuse, his "scorn" for Breezepelt, is what is driving a wedge between him and all of his older Clanmates. Between EVERYONE in Breezepelt's life who wasn't already his friend. This awful treatment is only making him worse and worse.
Realizing this, she has more sympathy for him, but it's too late. He continues to be rude to her because he feels insulted, and her patience completely runs out. She's just a kid. They're both just kids. She's not responsible for fixing him when he's pushing everyone away at this point.
That's the end of Breezepelt in Outcast. It can't be helped anymore. Any spark of friendship they had together in the barn, or in the tunnels, is gone.
As the series progresses, Crowfeather continues to refuse any personal responsibility for the mistreatment of his son, even pinning all of Breezepelt's behavioral problems on Nightcloud. He is a cold, selfish father who only ever thinks about his own pain and reputation.
DARK FOREST: How these factors push him towards radicalization.
Everyone talks about the Attack on Poppyfrost, which happens in the first book of OotS, in oversimplified terms. YES he is going after a nun and a pregnant woman. I've never said that's not Bad.
But no one talks about "WHY", and that reason is NOT just that he desires power like so many other WC villains. Breezepelt makes his motivation very clear on the page.
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Escalating to violence was about making Jayfeather feel the way that he does.
When Breezepelt says that he wants Jay to be surrounded by "lies, hatred, and things that should never have happened," he's talking about the way HE grew up, knowing his father never wanted him, and that his Clan HATES him as a result. Killing Poppyfrost is about trying to frame Jayfeather for her murder, so ThunderClan won't trust him anymore.
When Jayfeather points out the simple truth that what Breezepelt is saying doesn't make any goddamn sense, his hatred "falters." He's blaming his half-clan half-brother for his own treatment because of the reveal, but totally failed to consider that JAYFEATHER'S ALREADY GOING THROUGH IT... so his response is just this pitiful, "s-shut up, man."
Then the ghost of Brokenstar and Breezepelt bounce him back and forth between them like a beach ball for a bit until Honeyfern's spirit shows up.
Breezepelt's childhood abuse and social alienation was a hook that the Dark Forest latched onto, to reel him in. His anger at his half-brother is so obviously misplaced that its absurdity was something Jayfeather pointed out.
We soon learn that it's the Dark Forest who's planting that ridiculous idea in his head;
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The narration is SCREAMING, "The Dark Forest is validating the anger he feels towards his father, and redirecting it towards The Three." He's described as 'kitlike,' Tigerstar's eyes are compared to a hypnotizing snake.
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This prose could not make it more obvious if it drove to your house, beat you with it, and then spoon fed you the point while you were hospitalized.
At the end of this scene, Tigerstar sends Hawkfrost to recruit Ivypaw. This scene where Breezepelt is being lovebombed, and the command to start grooming Ivypaw, ARE LINKED. That was a choice.
A VERY GOOD choice! Again, as many issues as I have with OotS, its handling of indoctrination is unironically fantastic, and it owes a good amount of that to the outstanding setup of Breezepelt that was done back in Po3. And that setup doesn't work if Crowfeather was merely distant.
Breezepelt was abused by his father, both verbally and physically. It drove him to be more aggressive to prove himself, modeling the battle culture around him. The adults of WindClan judged him based off Crowfeather's responses, shunning and belittling the 'problem' teenager, which eventually drove Breezepelt to the only group that he felt "understood" him.
In a book series that is RIFE with abuse apologia, this is one of the few times that there's any behavioral consequences for abuse and the narrative holds the perpetrator accountable for it.
But people hear Crowfeather's deflective excuse in The Last Hope where he says he never hated him, blames Nightcloud for everything, and just lick it up uncritically.
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Gee whiz, I wonder why the guy who never blames himself for any of his problems would suddenly say it was his ex-wife's fault. Real headscratcher!
(Crowfeather's Trial then goes onto, for all my own problems with it, also hold Crow accountable as the reason why Breezepelt turned out like he did. But that's a topic for another day.)
544 notes · View notes
won4ver · 1 month
Note
hii, eires!! so i just saw your prompt list (super comprehensive, i'm in awe) and this idea immediately popped into my head as i was reading through them: their friends find out you’re not as scary as you look + you rub your cheek against their chest
and in my mind, riki starts dating someone but he's always been secretive about her when it came to the other members. they only ever saw her in passing since he doesn't want to hang out with her at the dorms where 6 other (stinky) boys live. and she has a very cool/cold aura about her and a rbf (much like riki 😭) so they worry she's mean or up to no good but in the scenario they stumble upon a cute and fluffy scene where riki and her are all lovey w each other :> and teasing ensues and riki gets all embarrassed and grumpy and she ends up being nice lol. it doesn't have to include all 7 of them, and you can pick any other prompts or ideas!! but that's my suggestion, yea :D
✈︎ the perfect moment
pairing : idol!bf!riki x fem!reader
warnings + genre : slight angst. fluff. teasing. riki gets angry and storms off. height difference.
wc : 2k
a/n : HIII N STOP I LOVE YOUR REQ SM??? i literally loved writing this so much, you’re literally a genius. i hope you like it, and that it lines up with your expectations! this was my first ever request so i’m a bit nervous lol. PLS LMK HOW I DID🫶🫶
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“Have you spoken with Riki today?” Jay looked up from his phone at Heeseung’s worried tone, his eyebrows furrowing as he tried recalling a time he talked with their youngest member within the last twenty four hours.
“Uh no, why?” Jay tried not to let his nervousness show, barely stopping his voice from wavering. It wasn’t unusual for Riki to be away from his phone during their days off. If anything, it was expected of him.
Ever since he’d gotten together with you, he’d always spend his free time with you, typically spending the entire time at your apartment. 
But what wasn’t usual was him going no contact the entire day. Usually, he’d pop a few messages every couple of hours, informing his members about his plans and his sleeping arrangements.
“He hasn’t responded to anyone’s messages, Jake is getting worried because Riki told him that he’d call around noon and it’s-” Heeseung made a show of turning his lit-up phone screen towards Jay, bold numbers in the top center, “already seven.”
As if to confirm Heeseung’s words, Jake began spamming their group chat, questioning every single member about his whereabouts.
Jay gasped as he remembered his last conversation with Riki, one that took place just as he caught Riki leaving around six in the morning. “He’s with YN. I’m pretty sure they went to her family’s place in Incheon for lunch.”
Heeseung suddenly recalled Riki informing them about his trip a few nights ago, an excited smile on his face as he rambled to his members about how much he’d been looking forward to today. 
“Oh” The two boys shared a look, their expressions clearly troubled as they both thought back on the same memory. They didn’t mean to completely dismiss Riki’s excitement. They wanted to be excited for him, but it was hard.
They both remembered the way they all grimaced as they heard your name, their evident disapproval showcased on their faces. It was clear to everyone that they didn’t approve of you, well it was clear to everyone except for Riki up until that moment.
They all watched as his face dropped, confusion filling his eyes as he questioned them about their expression. Heeseung almost wished he could go back in time to stop himself from humiliating you in front of everyone, to stop himself from making his wrongful assumptions in front of your boyfriend.
He could hear his own words loud in his ears as if he said it all over again. “Riki, I don’t think she’s right for you. She’s never once shown any intention to even meet any of us, she just seems stand-offish.”
If that didn’t completely throw your boyfriend off, then his leaders following words definitely did. “She doesn’t seem like a good person to be around, I don’t think I’ve ever actually seen her smile.” 
Heeseung saw the way Riki completely hardened at their words, his eyes glaring holes into them as he stood up from his chair. He could feel the way he flinched when Riki’s chair screeched against their dorm floor as he stormed outside, his house shoes still on.
“I feel bad about what happened that day.” Heeseung shook out of his reverie as he glanced over at Jay, his eyes glazed over the same way. “He’s barely said a single word to any of us since then. He literally gave me the cold shoulder yesterday!” 
It was clear to everyone in the group how much Riki cherished you. They saw it in the way his entire body perked up at your name. Or in the way they all watched him stay up late making little origami bouquets for you even when he had an early schedule.
It was so easy to dismiss all his acts of love because they’d never seen the two of you in action, only seeing a small glimpse of you as their managers dropped Riki off at your apartment for your weekly sleepovers. Or when they caught sight of you sitting in their company lobby while waiting for your boyfriend, head cladded in black headphones.
They all remembered the way you’d react when you caught them looking, the way you’d avoid their eyes and look down at the floor. Your oversized jeans and graphic hoodies didn’t help with their image of you either, your style matching their youngest perfectly. 
Those small peaks were enough for them to form their own opinions of you, enough for their dislike of you to build to the point of spilling in front of your boyfriend.
Jay felt his phone buzzing in his hand, a phone call from Jungwon coming in as his and Heeseung’s conversation paused. “Hello?” Heeseung couldn’t hear what Jungwon was saying over the quiet radio, their manager ignoring their conversation as he sat bobbing his head in the front. 
“Okay, Heeseung and I will reach the dorm first, once we get home I’ll try calling Riki again.” As soon as Jay ended the call he was quick to summarize their entire conversation, Heeseung nodding along as he agreed to call Riki as soon as they returned.
Their dorm was completely silent as they unlocked the door, all lights turned off sans for the smallest ray peeking from under Riki’s door.
Both boys’ eyes widened as they saw two pairs of shoes beside the door, a small awe of amazement leaving Heeseung’s mouth as he saw their matching shoes. “Jay, look! They literally have matching dunks.” He bent down to untie his shoes, eyes never leaving the smaller pair. 
“Her feet are so small, how tall is she?” Heeseung shrugged in response, their limited knowledge about you showing in their questions.
“Riki told me that she’s five three, she literally barely reaches his bicep.” Both boys jumped in shock as Jake appeared behind them, Sunghoon, Jungwon, and Sunoo following close behind him.
“You actually almost just gave me a heart attack” Sunoo snickered at the two boys before he paused in front of them, just now also noticing the shoes sitting beside the door. “Oh my god?” He gasped, a hand flying over his lips as his eyes sparked. “I think that’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen?”
Jungwon leaned over Jake’s shoulder to see what everyone was staring at, regret coming back in full force as he recalled what he said to Riki.
Everyone settled down on their couch, their outer attire still around their shoulders and they relaxed for a minute. Through the silence in the living room, they were able to hear a small feminine giggle, one followed by a laugh they recognized as Riki’s right away. 
Jungwon stood up from his spot, tilting his head towards the door with wide eyes. They all stood frozen in spot as they finally heard the quiet music coming from his room, barely loud enough to hear over your giggles.
All the boys shared a knowing look, deciding this was the moment they’d finally properly meet you. They all stood around Riki’s door, Jake in the front as he gently grabbed the door handle. They all watched with bated breaths as the door opened, releasing it as they saw that neither of you heard it.
All their jaws dropped at the scene in front of them, the pure innocent scene in front of them not only melting their hearts but changing their thoughts on you.
The sight that welcomed them was one straight from a romcom, everything down to the way you looked into each other’s eyes was filled with nothing but love.
You stood in front of Riki, one hand entwined with his with your other wrapped tight around his waist. Your cheek was resting against his chest, chin pointed up as you looked him in the eyes with the brightest smile on your face.
Riki’s smile mirrored yours, hearts barreling out of his eyes as he held you tight against him.
Your feet were on top of his, sock-cladded heels elevated in the air as you stood on your tippy toes. For the first time since they’ve seen you finally ditched your jeans and an oversized sweater, both of you wearing your matching sets of lotte world pyjamas. Riki’s filled with small pictures of Lotty, and yours with Lorry.
Riki quietly hummed along to the music, playfully singing random parts to you. 
These moments together were his favourite, the soft ones that were shared between just the two of you. In your private world without the perceptions of others ruining your moment, it was perfect.
Well, it was perfect until Jay accidentally awed out loud, both your heads snapping towards Riki’s ajar door. Riki reacted before you, gently lowering you onto the ground and pushing you against his back, hiding you from the others’ view. 
Riki could feel your nervousness, your hands rubbing small shapes into his stomach as you held him tighter. Riki glared at his members as he felt your heart racing against his back, his protectiveness coming out in waves as he broadened his stance to hide you better.
“Is there something wrong?” Sunoo could barely keep his smile down, even with Riki’s glaring eyes he still looked completely harmless.
His long hair was done up in a half-up ponytail, his zigzag headband pushing his bangs out of his face. “You guys are so cute!” Riki raised an eyebrow at him in confusion, eyes losing their sharpness as the members started complimenting the two of you over each other. 
“Can you all leave, please? We’re kind of in the middle of something.” At your boyfriend’s surly wording, you gave him a soft nudge to the back. He quietly apologized to his members as they all gaped in amazement, “You got in to apologize with just a tap? We need you around more.” Riki turned red with embarrassment, closing his eyes tight as he focused on your hands around his waist.
You finally peeked out from behind your boyfriend’s back, automatically being met with all six boys staring at you with a soft look, small smiles greeting you as you looked from member to member. Riki felt you wiggling behind him, his protective instincts coming up again.
He turned his back to the members as he held you against his chest, looking down into your eyes for any sort of discomfort. When you nodded at him with a smile he finally stepped to the side, his hand clasped around yours as he pressed his side completely to yours.
Seeing your height difference in person differed completely from just hearing it from Jake. The actual image of the two of you beside each other was one they’d never forget. 
“Hey, you’re yn, right?” You nervously nodded your head towards Heeseung after looking into Riki’s eyes for reassurance. Heeseung smiled brightly at your cute acts, a tender affection filling whatever disapproval he held before.
Heeseung walked towards you, ignoring Riki’s warning looks, and reaching his hand out toward you. “I’m Heeseung, Riki’s eldest brother.” You wrapped your smaller hand around his own, your anxiety almost completely washing away at his gentleness.
“It’s nice to meet you. Riki had told me a lot about you.” Riki groaned out loud as you outed him, a soft whine of faux annoyance leaving his lips as he tugged on your entwined hands. “Don’t tell him that! That was supposed to be our secret.” You looked away from Heeseung to look at your boyfriend, a big smile on your lips as you gave him the softest look you could muster. 
“I mean it’s fine, you can tell them anything” Riki looked away from you with flushed cheeks, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth as he tried to hide his lovesick smile.
“I didn’t know you could slow dance, Riki.” The room erupted with laughter as your boyfriend groaned. You easily allowed him to disconnect your hands so he could tackle Jake in a headlock, loud “la la la”’s leaving his mouth as they all teased him.
“Riki, dance with me!” Heeseung joined them, acting like he was going to wrap his arms around Riki’s waist. “Baby, help me!” Riki tried calling you for backup, only to let out a sigh of betrayal as you joined their teasing.
Even if your relationship with his members started off rocky, there was nothing any of you would change about this moment. It was completely perfect.
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kteezy997 · 4 months
Text
The Candy Man- Part Five//W.W.
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Information: lots of fluff Warning: adult (Willy) breastfeeding sorry not sorry, also mention of sex and sperm
You and Willy were definitely surprised when you gave birth to twins: a boy and a girl. It was only fitting to give them sweet flavor names. Your baby boy was named Mocha, and your little girl was named Maple.
Maple and Mocha Wonka. You were so in love and so proud to be their mom. They were both perfectly healthy, and dark headed like their daddy. You felt so blessed.
After the birthing session was over, you could tell that the whole “producing twins the first time he had sex” thing was really stroking Willy’s ego. “I can’t believe this, darling.” he said, holding one of the babies in his arms, he got close to you, whispering so the midwife wouldn’t hear, “Twins! Honey, I have magic sperm.”
You just laughed at him and shook your head.
Willy sat on the bed with you. Each of you held one of your babies, and you took some time, just admiring the little ones. Willy was in awe of how tiny and beautiful they were.
“They are so perfect, y/n.” he said softly, in total adoration.
“I know. We are so lucky.” you responded, teary eyed. You kissed Willy on the cheek. He, in turn, rested his head on yours.
……
It was not easy adjusting to life with not one, but two newborns. Your parents were supportive of your relationship with Willy, and they were over the moon when it came to being grandparents. They came over from time to time to help and watch the babies while you and Willy took breaks to nap, clean, and cook.
Even Willy’s friends volunteered to help. They had been with Willy from the laundry house to the chocolate shoppe, and now to help care for the Wonka babies. Willy's young friend, Noodle, started developing a special bond with the twins, and it made you both so happy. You were so grateful for all of them, you couldn’t believe the support system surrounding your family.
Besides your wonderful family and friends, Willy was the best with the babies, even better with them than you, you thought. Willy would disagree, but it was true that he had a magical way with them. He could sing them to sleep, even when they were crying. Even with them being so young, they could recognize Daddy's voice, and their little eyes would search the room for him.
Willy was a doting partner; he never left your side. You tried to make up a 'shift' system, where you'd take turns taking care of the babies while the other one slept, but Willy didn't abide by it much. "If you're up caring for our kids, and miserably tired, then I'm right there with you." Your man was truly one of kind.
In the beginning, you had trouble producing enough breast milk for the babies, so Willy would infuse some of his creations to give the babies enhanced nutrients, with giraffe milk as the base, of course. You sent your thanks to Abigail at the zoo. She was given as many Wonka mints as she could eat.
Eventually, the babies started to sleep for longer periods of time, and you started to feel sane again. You had more energy, and you had gotten the hang of breast feeding. It was routine for you and Maple and Mocha now, and they knew to latch on instantly.
Willy was putting away clean baby clothes in the nursery and then sat and waited for you to finish feeding the twins so you both could go to bed. "Willy, you can go on ahead, they should be done soon, and they will go right to sleep." you insisted.
"No, it's alright darling, I don't like getting in bed without you." he said. He was so sweet and honest without expecting anything in return. He didn't say it to get you to fawn over him. And that's why you loved him.
"Honey, I love you, but really, you can go to bed, I'll be there soon."
"Okay," he said with a reluctant sigh, he stood up, watching you feed the babies for a moment.
Your night shirt was unbuttoned, and your breasts were free. Your babies were eating and starting to get full bellies.
"Could I.." Willy began to ask something, and you knew exactly what it was. He looked away, so shyly, saying, "Never mind."
"No, it's alright, what were you going to say, Willy?" you needed to hear him ask it.
"Can I try some of your milk? After the twins are fed, of course, and if you aren't sore." his pretty green eyes were almost desperate as he looked at you so tenderly.
You and Willy hadn't been intimate in nearly three months. Sex wasn't in the question when you were heavily pregnant, unknowingly with twins. You could sense that he missed it, not just the sex, or even getting off, but just being close together and bonding with you. Your relationship had taken a back seat with your new additions.
"Sure you can. But don't go thinking that you can use it to put in your chocolate." you said firmly, giving him a look.
"Oh, no, darling. Of course not!" he assured you, frantically.
You giggled, "Go on to bed, Willy Wonka, and I'll be there in a moment."
"Yes, ma'am." he said cheerily, turning on his heels and heading out of the babies' room.
........
You got the babies to sleep in their cribs and joined Willy in your bedroom. You hadn't bothered to button up your shirt, you just covered yourself with the shirt, as you would have felt strange walking around the house with your tits out. Though you knew Willy wouldn't mind.
"Hi darling." you said, greeting your lover.
Willy grinned as you came over to the bed and climbed onto his lap. He gave you a sweet kiss on the lips and held you close.
You ran your hands slowly through his curls. You kissed him on the forehead.
"Aw, I love your kisses, baby." Willy cooed.
You smiled softly at him, caressing his jaw, "You can have my breasts now if you want some milk."
Willy's eyes lit up, and he uncovered your breasts. He held them for a moment. He squeezed your nipple, and some milk squirted in his face, making you both laugh. He then opened his mouth and put your tit on his tongue, closing his lips around it and sucking your milk out.
You rubbed the back of his head lovingly as he drank from you.
"mm, so yummy, baby." he said as he popped off your nipple and switched to the other one. He drank for a moment, and stopped to squeezed some milk out again, letting the drops wet his face. He marveled at what your body was capable of. He lapped the excess milk off of your nipple.
He fed off of you for a little bit, which was kind of relaxing for you. Then you got settled in to bed, snuggling. You were both pretty tired. He looked so darling, with his lips moistened by the taste of your milk and the look of pure love under his hooded eyes.
"I know I said I wouldn't use your milk while making chocolate, but what if it was just for my own enjoyment? Your milk is so delicious. I can't get enough, my love." he cooed, nuzzling his face into your cheek. His silky hair tickled your face. "Would you spare some for me?" he asked, his voice was soft and muffled.
You laughed, "Okay, you can make your own chocolate with my milk." you said, giving in. It was hard to say know to your sweet boy. "I can't wait for the midwife to say it's okay to have sex again. I want you so bad, Willy." You kissed his head.
"Mmm," he raised his head to peck your lips, "I know, I'm so ready to make love to you again. This time, I'm trying for triplets!" he joked.
@gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @musicandbooksaremyhappyplace @softhecreator @tchalamss @bitchyunknownuser @lixzey @kpopgirlbtssvt
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thegnomelord · 5 months
Note
for the prompt game, if it's still open, maybe 8 with Ghost? maybe with hatefucking and at the point you're both at it's basically a routine but all of the nasty words and cruel moments are really just because you're both brutes that have trouble expressing emotions properly, and all you really want is just some kind of deeper connection with each other, but with your shitty use of words, arguing and eventual growling into into his mouth as you shove him down onto the nearest flat surface is the only way for you to get that. and perhaapps at one point, one of you, reader or ghost doesn't matter, let's something softer and more caring slip through the angry facade? ofc if you already have one for 8 or you just don't like this idea you can im really sorry and you can ignore me, no pressure and I love all your writing :')) <3
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Okay anon holy shit this is GOOD! You should think of writing yourself like what I'm seeing in this prompt is good shit :D Play the game HERE
Prompt: "If this is a joke it isn't funny."
CW: NSFW, Sub Bot Ghost, Dom Top MReader, hatefucking, degradation, confessions, soft sex,
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It always starts the same; Simon's roughly patting your shoulder and telling you to not cock it up, your equally harsh response for him to keep up with you, rough voices hiding the unsaid 'be careful's. Insults like 'dumbass', 'moron', 'dead weight' crackling over the radio when the other's pinned down by fire, the electric static and suppression fire muting the worry in your voice, the hint of care in Simon's tone.
And it always ends the same; harsh stares across the room while you debrief Price, casualty numbers turning into critiques of the other— you should have noticed the terrorist, Simon should have kept the sniper in mind — prickling barbs and venomed words turning into shoves and punches, leaving bruises on each other's skin instead of the kisses you want to lay down.
Soap loves comparing you to dogs, and that's what you are— animals; talking would kill you both so you end up expressing yourselves through teeth and claws. There's blood on your tongue as you push Simon onto the bed and he pulls you down with his teeth digging into your bottom lip, rough fingers pulling away clothes only to push into bruised flesh, drawing hisses and growls.
'I want you' Ghost wants to say, instead "Stop being a pussy," comes out, blunt nails dragging deep scratches down your back. 'I'm happy you're alive' "You fuck as bad as you fight." Simon tastes blood as he kisses you, both of you struggling to pin the other to the bed.
"Shut up." 'I missed you' you snarl and pin him on his front, trapping his massive arms behind his back so he has no support, his head pushed into the pillows and arse high in the air, your thigh parting his legs. You huff a laugh when you see his cock already hard, hanging uselessly between his thighs. "Slag, good for nothing but taking it up the ass." 'I care for you'.
'You're important to me' Simon swallows the blood and spit in his mouth, jerking in a half-hearted attempt to free himself. "'least ah have a use," he growls, chest stuttering for breath as you bear down even more weight on him. You push your fingers into his mouth to wet them and Simon bites down, loving you with his teeth first, the sting of pain binding you together.
"Yeah, as a cocksleeve." 'I'm sorry' You don't give him a warning, just pull your fingers from his mouth and push into his ass. It's only enough lube to not tear him, but the stretch hurts, burns, and Simon both loves and hates how this roughness makes his cock hard and heart flutter.
"That-hah-" Ghost pants into the sheets, eyes prickling with tears with how he tries to keep them open, body forced to submit to you as your fingers stretch him, fuck him, tenderly brushing against his prostate before pushing to the last knuckle, pain and pleasure burning up his spine. "-that's not true."
Pulling out your fingers you give him a sharp slap on his ass, "Sure is," You use what saliva you have on your hand to wet your cock, swirling the drool in your mouth before you spitting right on his hole for extra wetness, your sudden action making his spasming hole clench and relax reflexively. "Look at how you're clenching." You mount him, pushing your weight down on him until he can barely breathe, cock bobbing against his hole. "Acting like such a bitch!"
You ram in him to put emphasis on the word and Simon bites his tongue so hard it bleeds, resisting letting any noises out. He's never vocal in bed, no matter how hard you fuck him, how many bruises your hips leave on his ass or how many hickeys you lay on his throat, how often your balls slap against his, he never utters more than a low groan.
But he wants to; good god Simon wants to tell you how good you feel, how every brush of your cockhead against his prostate has him seeing stars, how much he loves feeling you pound into him, who bodies bound into one by such a primal connection. . . but he can't, his mouth clamps up when he tries and even if he manages to spit something out it just comes out as venom, earning him firm slaps on his ass and your weight bearing further down on him.
You spill into him, pinning him so hard beneath your weight he can barely breathe, only remembering to rub him into an orgasm when your balls are good and empty, cock plugging his hole full of your cum. Your hands are harsh, his panting ringing in your ears until his cock twitches and he cums onto the sheets beneath him, whole body shaking to hold his moans in.
You collapse onto him, just enough sense in your head to roll you two onto your sides so he isn't laying in his spend or suffocating beneath you. Uncomfortable silence rings in your ears as you pant, bile churning in your stomach; This is your usual, soon enough Simon will tell you to shove off, he'll get up, take a piss, and leave.
And this song and dance will repeat until one of you dies.
Even without sight you feel Simon open his mouth, vestiges of harsh words burning on his tongue. Maybe it's post-orgasmic bliss that makes you speak, "Hey," Your hands tighten around his middle, "Stay the night." You curl around him like a lover; something you know you're not.
He shuts his mouth so quickly you hear the 'click' of his teeth, whole body freezing because this is as new for him as it is for you. "If this is a joke," He growls, turns his head just enough for you to catch his glare. "It's not funny."
Your tongue burns with the usual words— 'Only joke here is you' — but you don't, instead a slow and low "I'm not kidding." escapes you, like something forbidden, something to keep secret lest you get divine punishment.
Simon's mind buffers like an old computer, too many thoughts stuffing his head that he can't understand a single one. This is too far removed from the usual, hummingbirds knocking on his skull as a warning. But his body relaxes while he's still thinking, a stagnant breath escaping his lungs. "Fine."
You think of saying something, but it's better not to. Instead you huddle closer to him, still connected in a carnal way but now it feels so much more. . . intimate. Your hands wander over his toros, a gentle exploration instead of a race for release, your fingers carding through his body hair down his happy trail and up again.
Simon's head tils back to give you access to his neck, your lips soft against his skin as you kiss the bruises you'd left, both of your bodies slowly moving to close the small space between you two, urged to share your warmth.
You shift your hips, only realizing you're hard again when Simon moans. Moans. "Sorry," You duck your head, hands gripping his hips to pull out but he stops you, a rough sound in his throat.
"No," Simon doesn't look at you though the blush across his face is easy to spot. "Keep going," Tilting his hips back into yours tears a moan from both of you. Your cum eases the slide in, his walls stretched and pliant, wetly sucking you in like a needy thing.
Another time you'd have laughed at how desperate he's acting, but the low moans and a little "Fuck, just like that," you earn by rolling your hips has your mind shutting off. You can't believe how vocal he's suddenly become, getting louder the slower and gentler you move your hips, your cock slowly pushing in and out of his hole.
You bury your head in his neck and blindly stroke his leaking cock, kissing the skin under your lips, your eyes closed shut as you thrust into him slowly, your tender and slow movements pulling moan after moan out of him. His hand winds back to cup the back of your neck, pulling you up just enough to give you an awkward kiss but it's sweet and raw and so desperate—
You don't notice he's cumming until his walls clamp down on you, Simon whispering "I love you," so soft and quiet under his breath that you don't hear him, too busy filling him up a second time, but your mind buzzes with warmth all the same.
You lay as you were, somehow so exhausted that even moving an inch is anathema to you. Both of you, it seems, if the way Simon's back is warm and pliant against your chest, his breathing slow and steady. Tomorrow you'll need to talk (or do your best substitution of it), but for tonight, you can hug him close and finally have an answer to what it would feel like to have him close without the sex, to just be with him. . .
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soupandsimple · 6 months
Text
Coach P. (With James Potter)
[ gym coach James being called out by a student for often visiting you during their art class ]
* simple fluff 💜
** muggle au
This was requested: see the ask here
……………………….
Knock knock knock
You looked over to the little window of your classroom door while in the middle of demonstrating to your students how to create clean, even coverage brush strokes with a paint brush and saw James Potter, the school’s gym teacher waving at you.
You smiled, held up your pointer finger informing him to give you a moment and continued on explaining the method.
“There, that easy” you said to the group of twelve year old children once you finished. “Now I want you all to practice this technique on the mosaic sheet designs you made yesterday. I’ll be coming around checking your progress in a bit,” you concluded.
As the kids stood up to gather their painting supplies from the back of the room, you went over and finally opened the door.
“Sorry for the wait” you apologized to James.
“No, no- you’re here to do your job. I have no trouble waiting around for you…here, I brought you these” he said, handing you a bag of fruit snacks that were carried in the school’s vending machines.
“Ugh, you know I can’t say no to fruit snacks” you admitted as you grabbed the bag. “I’ll just save them for later, it makes me sad to eat them with the students watching” you forced a little laugh as you set them on your desk.
“Such a thoughtful thing you are,” James half joked, half gushed.
“As are you coach Potter,” you playfully bantered back, resulting in a shared shy laugh as you each looked in different directions.
“No but seriously though James, thank you for the snacks,” you spoke in your normal tone of voice now, with a smile of gratitude on your lips.
Before James could reply, Lawrence, one of the more outspoken boys of his year, called out, “Hey coach P, why do you always come in here during our class?”
Some of the students laughed while others internally gasped and stared at each other with knowing looks, looks that told you they all speculated there was something between you and James.
“Uhh..well it’s my free period Lawrence,” James replied back as casually as he could.
“Yeah but you like always come in here, can’t you go home during your break or take a nap?”
“No, work is still work. I can’t leave the school and I certainly can’t sleep.”
“That sucks Coach…I bet you still look forward to your free period everyday anyways don’t you?” Lawrence said with three comical eyebrow wiggles.
A group of girls giggled and even you wanted to laugh at the fact that James was being called out by a twelve year old but luckily you were able to contain your lips in a subtle smile.
A red hue quickly spread across James’s cheeks as he let out an airy chuckle, “Okayyyy Lawrence, enough of that. Why don’t you get back to your work.”
Lawrence shrugged and went on about his business.
What the students didn’t know was that during the summer, James and you had been set up on a blind date by mutual friend Remus Lupin but that once you met and found out you’d be working at the same school that year, you both decided it’d be better to keep things simple and just be friends. The feelings between you two, however, were undeniable and it was really only a matter of time before you both accepted you were not meant to limit yourselves to a friendship.
“Well, I should go,” James said pointing to the door with both hands then walking backward towards it to keep an eye on you. “But oh, hey, you going to Rem’s birthday dinner tomorrow night?”
“Mhm,” you nodded.
“Good, um me too. I’ll see you there then?”
“Yeah, see you there,” you assured him happily with a little wave goodbye.
James smiled and cutely saluted you in exchange of a wave and as he walked out of the door, Lawrence eagerly shouted out …
“Have a good weekend coach P!”
… to which James pretended not to have heard and kept on his way without a look back.
Naturally though, he couldn’t help the small smile that escaped his lips as he exited, just as your lips did the same inside because you both knew you’d be getting to see each other outside of school hours for a change; and well, that certainly made for a good weekend. <3
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taexual · 5 months
Text
sleepwalking ● 12 | jjk
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pairing: jungkook x fem!reader
summary: due to unfortunate circumstances, you ended up managing your ex-boyfriend’s band. you thought you’ve both made peace with it, but suddenly he’s very eager to prove to you that first love never dies.
genre: rockstar!jungkook / exes to lovers
warnings: explicit language, some angst, DESCRIPTIVE SMUT with maybe 1 pet name and 2 jokes, a bunch of reminiscing and relentless flirting (bc jungkook is dowwnnnn badddd), praise kink if you squint?, minors please don't interact
words: 7.6k
read from the beginning ○ masterlist
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chapter 12 ► fall into your eyes like a grave, bury me to the sound of your name
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You and Jungkook were silent for a solid fifteen minutes after you let him into your hotel room. You were both sitting on the bed, but with so much distance between you that it felt like you were on two different floors.
After your phone on the bedside table lit up for the sixth time in the last fifteen minutes, Jungkook finally spoke up.
“Your phone keeps buzzing,” he pointed out helpfully.
“Yeah.” You sighed. Being silent with Jungkook oddly felt less draining than dealing with whatever was happening on your phone. “It’s Kai.”
Jungkook nodded, remembering your brother’s misadventures the last time you two talked. He was almost happy to use that as an excuse to dance around the elephant in the room a little longer.
“How is he?” he asked. “With his broken…”
“Leg, yeah,” you finished, leaning your head against the headboard. “He’s home. Mum’s grounded him. She’s turned off the router and taken his Xbox, so he’s texting me because he’s got nothing else to do.”
Remembering how angry you were when your brother got himself into trouble and upset your mum, Jungkook asked with a small smirk on his lips, “and you had nothing to do with the Xbox?”
You shook your head. “I don’t believe it’s an appropriate punishment to withhold things from your children. I think it makes them withdraw from their parents, especially when they’re seventeen like Kai. And it makes them annoy their siblings instead,” you paused. Then shrugged. “But I’m not a parent, so easy for me to say.”
Dignified, Jungkook cleared his throat.
“You’ve contributed greatly to raising your brother,” he said in a voice full of contempt for your family’s general tendency to use the nine-year age difference between you and your brother as an excuse to have you babysit for free.
Although your heartbeat increased at the sound of his confidence—and his almost reflexive habit of defending you from yourself—your outward appearance remained composed. It was easy to appear collected when you weren’t looking at him and he felt so far away.
“And look at him now,” you said, an ironic smile on your face. “A mess.”
Jungkook snickered. “He’s really not that bad.”
Sighing again, you ran a hand through your hair and felt your fingers get caught in the last strand, only adding to your frustration with your brother.
“Sure. He’s a good kid,” you said, looking up at Jungkook. “But he tries too hard.”
Jungkook saw the parallel, he felt it. You might as well have said that about him.
At last, it seemed like the time had come to address the real reason he’d come to your room. He knew that this casual chit-chat was only temporary anyway. But if he wasn’t careful, it would be the last time the two of you spoke to each other with such ease, such familiarity.
He cleared his throat and said, “this might be the hardest conversation we have.”
He didn’t need to elaborate, you understood. And still, you thought about his words for a moment and decided to disagree.
“Or the easiest,” you said. “I mean, everything important that we could have said, we’ve pretty much said already.”
He blinked, surprised at first. Then dizzy.
There were several things he wanted to say to you, but he expected to listen to you first. He knew you wouldn’t initiate a conversation about your feelings, but he’d hoped this was different, especially considering all that you’d said to each other on the street.
It wasn’t different. You sat across from him on the bed and you looked a little uncomfortable, but not particularly confounded.
He’d expected to find you grappling with questions, armoured with rightful accusations, but you appeared settled.
Maybe it’s because it’s been four years, he realised suddenly. He hadn’t been there to watch you build your defences. He hadn’t seen your walls grow.
He worried, suddenly, that nothing he’d say would mean anything to you. He worried that the only reason you let him into your room was to deliver the finishing blow—to tell him that you were done one more time.
He switched the arm he was leaning against the bed with; his right arm was slowly going numb. Actually, so was his left, and, if he was completely honest, his whole body felt a bit like it was floating away from him, but he tried to focus on the moment.
“Uh, w-we haven’t said everything,” he said.
You looked at him. “What else is there?”
“Two things.”
Inhaling sharply, you turned away. You did not really want to continue the discussion you’d had by the canal. In fact, you didn’t think there was anything to continue at all.
You’d walked away as soon as you realised that you’d come face-to-face with your break-up. And this was it. You’ve found the reason why this could never work. Why you and him together could never work. And it was truly simple: it’s because it hadn’t worked before. You already knew it, but you enjoyed the leisure of pretending that you didn’t.
All that you two had to do now, in your opinion, was reach a formal agreement that this would be it. You’ve explored each other’s boundaries enough during this tour. The time has come to stop. To go back to your normal lives, your regular jobs and duties.
However, now that he was here, there was hesitation behind your closed eyes. You had learned that the two of you had different ideas about why you broke up. And you’d spent four years boiling in them, convincing yourselves you’ve moved on from them, then facing them head-on when you really looked at each other again.
Perhaps there were a few more things you had to talk about, after all, before you could truly put this behind you.
Finally, you nodded your head once and told him, “okay. What’s the first thing?”
“The first thing,” he started, “is that I'm sorry.”
It was well known that “sorry” wasn’t always a heavy word. People threw it around like a pebble and watched it bounce off the surface of the water, rarely ever intending for it to sink, to reach the depths not visible to the naked eye. Jungkook had been one of those people many times in his life.
But the word he used here felt different.
It carried a weight that forced him to lower his head as he said it. As if all his thoughts had been poured into this sentence – this fateful “I’m sorry” – and the heaviness of it was difficult to bear. As if he’d assigned different meanings to each “sorry” in his head, and all these little pieces suddenly added up to one big word that took up the whole room.
“For not realising what I was doing back then,” he said, dissecting the apology, “and what it meant for our relationship.”
He figured there wasn’t much that you could say that would make it easier for him to breathe – the conversation by the canal, the bet, the apology, all of it was too significant to leave much room for oxygen in his lungs.
But you said, “I forgive you.”
And it felt a lot like you were performing emergency resuscitation and successfully maintaining his brain function.
He wasn’t certain if you’d said that because it was the right thing to say, or because you’d meant it. If it was the former, Jungkook would have rather suffocated.
“You do?” he asked, unsure if he was prepared for your explanation.
“Yeah,” you said. “I didn’t know that you weren’t—that you didn’t realise why—why we broke up the way we did. And it sucks that you didn’t, but…”
You faltered here and Jungkook was keenly aware how you’d said it sucks, but you’d really meant it hurt me. It hurt that he’d been dismissive, negligent, and heedless – and had the audacity not to realise it.
He closed his eyes while you finished, “it sucks more to know that, all this time, you thought I’d just walked away for no good reason.”
An apology was on the tip of your tongue, he could sense it. Although you had many reasons to be angry with him for being so impossibly stupid, you also felt guilty because all this time, he had thought you woke up one morning and suddenly decided you didn’t want to be with him anymore. Like it was your fault that he didn’t realise he’d been taking you for granted every day for months before you broke up.
You should have been angry with him. Instead, you thought you were responsible for not explaining your reasoning properly before you left.
He couldn’t even begin to describe the ache in his chest. He wanted you so much, but more and more he realised that he didn’t deserve you.
“I didn’t try to stop you,” he said before you could say anything else, because this was another element of his initial apology. One more thing he had to be sorry for.
You shrugged with one shoulder. Over the years, you’d come up with several reasons why he never fought for your relationship, not even considering that he might have assumed you had fallen out of love with him. At the end of every day, you simply thought he didn’t care anymore.
“I thought you were okay with it,” you said. “When I told you we were over, you just stood there. You didn’t ask why and I didn’t... answer.”
“I wasn’t okay with it,” he replied. “But I didn’t think there was anything I could do.”
With a thoughtful nod, you agreed, “there probably wasn’t.”
“Yeah, but I felt that way because I assumed that you—you didn’t want to be with me. That you didn’t care about me anymore. And you, uh,” he stopped here and waited for a long minute. Finally, he inhaled deeply. “You thought the opposite.”
You probably should have shouted at each other as you discussed this, you thought abruptly. That would have been appropriate. Maybe even healthy, all things considered.
But then, perhaps the realisation that you both had different views on why you broke up was precisely the thing that softened the impact. His hurt because you’d left him without an explanation, and your anger because he made you do it—they both took up outstanding amounts of space in your chests. They weighed you down. And they almost balanced each other out.
Perhaps you weren’t ready to shout just yet. Or not anymore.
Perhaps you’d left most of the shouting in the past four years ago. Now you were finally on the verge of closure.
That was the point, after all: the two of you boasted—really, there was no other word for it, you were both proud of it—that you’d never spoken to anyone about the details of your relationship.
That could have been admirable, of course, this utter devotion to each other and no one else. Except that, you didn’t talk about your relationship with each other, either.
“Do you think this is our own fault?” you asked. “We were good at talking about everything except… well, us.”
“I know,” Jungkook was quick to agree. You had both been like this from the very beginning—that’s likely why he was never fully aware of his behaviour. You’d always argued, but never about the things that really mattered. “I nearly threw up before I asked you to be my girlfriend.”
You did a double take, your mind racing to supply you with a memory that matched his words, but coming up short.
You squinted at him. “Did you actually ask?”
He opened his mouth to respond, but let it hang there, no words coming out for a good minute.
“You don't remember?!” he accused, his voice so high-pitched that it could almost shatter glass.
“I remember going on at least five dates before someone called you,” you explained, “and I heard you say into your phone, ‘sorry, I’m with my girlfriend.’ And that’s when I assumed that, huh. I guess I’m your girlfriend then.”
Jungkook could remember this exact moment. It was Sid who had called him because the two of them were working for Sid’s grandfather fixing his Camaro at the time. Jungkook had needed the money, while Sid simply enjoyed the ‘69 classic car.
The memory sent a shiver down his spine because he recalled turning Sid down. He had prioritised you over everything back then. What had happened to him later?
Regardless – in Jungkook’s mind, the timeline of your relationship was different.
“I vividly remember asking you on our second date,” he said.
You furrowed your eyebrows as you attempted to remember the very beginning of your relationship.
Your first date was the traditional movie and dinner—although it turned into a movie and the rain when you got stuck in the park. You recalled the whole day with near-perfect clarity.
Your second date was a week later, at the carnival in town. It took you three hours to get back to your dorms, because the event was held across the forest that separated the university campus from a small town nearby. Jungkook had insisted that you could walk home, he had claimed to know the way. And then he proceeded to get you lost within a few seconds of entering the forest.
All you could remember him asking you back then, was, ‘I know where I’m going, so trust me, okay?’ and that certainly did not include any terms that specified your relationship status.
Confused if you were remembering this wrong, you asked, “when we got lost on our way home from the carnival?”
“Before that!” he was even louder now, both of his hands in the air as he frantically explained, “on the Ferris wheel! I can’t believe you don’t remember!”
“On the Ferris—Jungkook, you had motion sickness the whole time we were on it,” you reminded him.
“I wasn’t sick,” he argued. “I was nervous.”
You narrowed your eyes at him. “All you said to me during that entire ride was ‘please’ when we were at the very top.”
“That was me asking!”
“That was—” You laughed in surprise before you could finish the sentence. “Okay, well, you can see why I wouldn’t remember that, considering you didn’t use a lot of words to explain what you meant. I thought you were asking me to end the ride. Not that I could have ended it, but—”
“You said yes, though.”
You didn’t think you heard him right, his tone noticeably lower compared to the agitated screaming before. “Hm?”
“When I said, ‘please?’,” he spoke, “you said, ‘yes.’”
You watched him, considering it.
“I think I was asking,” you said and demonstrated, “yes?”
“No. You made a statement,” he disagreed, showing you, “yes.”
You pursed your lips, choosing to quit before this escalated into an argument.
“Alright, fine,” you said. “Maybe I read your mind, then.”
He scoffed, turning away. “And forgot about it…”
Nevermind taking the high road.
“Well, I didn't think it meant anything,” you argued, “you were—”
“I had a different plan. I was going to fully embrace The Notebook and dangle from someone else’s seat to ask you,” Jungkook said, “but for that to work, you would’ve had to go on the ride with someone else. And at that point, I couldn’t let you sit in that cabin with someone who wasn’t me.”
You could feel your cheeks stretching as an involuntary smile spread across your lips.
“That’s a little crazy,” you said gently.
“Please,” he replied, lowering himself on your bed until he was lying on his back. “It’s just crazy. I went on a binge-watching session of romantic films before our first few dates. I did my research.”
You knew him too well not to point out, “was it really only for research?”
“Alright, after the first few, I started to really enjoy them,” he admitted, earning a knowing nod from you. He smiled in response and continued, “but then I got to know you better, and I figured that if I serenaded you like Heath Ledger did in 10 Things I Hate About You, you’d break up with me immediately.”
Your laughter sounded so sincere and calming that Jungkook felt his smile widen as he turned his head to look at you from where he was lying on your bed.
“So I became a singer instead,” he said, encouraged by the lightness in your laugh. “You can’t break up with me if singing for you is my job.”
Your stomach performed an intricate Loop-the-Loop and then dropped, seemingly down ten floors, all the way to the lobby of the hotel.
Desperate, you tried, “you’re not—it’s not—”
Noticing you were about to downplay his words—either because you didn’t think he meant it, or because you didn’t feel comfortable knowing that he did—Jungkook changed the topic instead.
“Were you angry at me?” he asked. “For not chasing you after you left that time?”
Struggling to collect the remains of your thoughts, you spoke very slowly, “I... I was angry that you didn’t put in any effort while we were still together. After that, I thought you didn’t care anymore.”
“I did,” he said. Then, realising, he corrected himself, “I do. And I didn’t want to make the same mistake again today.”
Hesitantly, you asked, “how do you mean? Because I left today?”
He nodded. “I'm not going to wait another four years before we talk about us.”
“Jungkook...” you said, but the sound of his name on your lips caused your thoughts to jumble once more. Your words stuck to your throat as your heart threw itself against the walls of your chest. You hoped to divert the topic, “y-you said there were two things. What—what’s the second thing?”
“The second thing is that I love you,” he said in one quick breath. “I took everything we had for granted, and I’m sorry. But the truth is that even then I was—I-I’d never stopped loving you.”
A sense of déjà vu clouded your mind, while the rest of your body reacted as if this was the first time you’d heard him say this. As if the four years you hadn’t been together were long enough to start a new lifetime, and now you’ve met again, reincarnated into different people – Jungkook, the vocalist of a rock band, and you, the manager.
But, buried deep in your subconscious, locked away in a box that your brain dared not touch even in a dreaming state, was the memory of the first time he’d said these words to you.
It was spring. You’d been together for about five or six months at that point, and you’d skipped class together to go to the same park where you’d had your first date. You’d spent the whole day walking around hand-in-hand, reminiscing about the past, dreaming of the future, taking pictures of the freshly bloomed cherry blossoms, and picking up the pale pink leaves from the grass to throw them at each other.
During the car ride back home, you were so exhausted that you could hardly keep your eyes open. The two of you had been running around so much—his energy was infectious, you’d both acted like Golden Retrievers set loose—that your legs felt wobbly and unsteady.
After a few more minutes, you had lost the battle against yourself and settled more comfortably into the passenger seat, closing your eyes. Your mind was already beginning to fill with the bliss of sleep when Jungkook stopped the car at a red light.
He glanced at you, seemingly asleep on the seat beside him, and leaned in to press his lips to your forehead. When he pulled back, he noticed a pale cherry blossom in your hair and a soft smile on your lips.
It was nothing more than a whisper—“I love you so much”—that slipped from his lips because he thought you were asleep. Nothing more than an overwhelmed confession as his heart drowned in his feelings.
But, to this day, nothing has ever come close to making your heart beat nearly as fast as it had in that car when the light turned green and he drove back to your dorm, still thinking you were asleep. That first confession of love remained a secret between you, him, and the stray cherry blossom nestled in your hair.
Slowly, you opened your eyes as the memory tugged at each and every cell of your skin, bringing goosebumps to the surface. You looked around the hotel room before you dared to look at him again.
Contrary to what Jungkook believed, you didn’t appear collected because you were done. Or because you didn’t want to fight with yourself about wanting him anymore.
It was because you were tired of still wanting him so much in spite of everything.
You were tired of forcing yourself to let go. To move on. To be rational and responsible.
Tired of feeling happy about things that were probably inappropriate.
Tired of finding those things inappropriate.
But rationally, you knew that you had to leave this behind and return to your normal lives after this, regardless of what you wanted.
It’d be much harder—to an infinite extent—because this wasn’t how you’d imagined this conversation going.
Quietly, you broke the silence, “I’m sorry, too.”
“Why?” he asked, sitting up on the bed.
“We can’t...” the words trailed off before you could catch up. You tried again, “I can’t—we can't do this.”
He observed the battle behind your eyes and then spoke, very softly, almost inaudibly, “we’re not doing anything wrong.”
“We’re—"
“We’re the ones who put meaning to things,” he continued. Not to contradict you, but to reassure you. “If we say it doesn't mean anything, then it doesn't.”
You shook your head with a sad smile, the situation vaguely familiar.
“It’s never that simple,” you said. “There’s so much more than just you and me to consider.”
“It is simple,” he insisted. Then, just like back in your bunk on the tour bus, he asked, “do you want me to leave?”
Just like back then, you answered without hesitation, “no.”
“Then this can have as much or as little meaning as you want it to. I don’t give a fuck,” he said. “I’m yours. You are all I’m considering. And I’m staying.”
In less than a second, the determination in his voice made you realise that rational didn’t always mean reasonable.
Rationally, you knew you should have drawn the line. You should have left or told him to leave. Should have distanced yourself from him for the sake of your heart. Your job. For the sake of the atmosphere backstage.
You were aware of all the damage this could do. You were aware of the risk. Of the questions. Of the pain.
You were aware that you were having the very conversation that you’d stopped him from pursuing a few hours ago on the street. But your response to him was vastly different now.
Really, the situation felt different, too.
The second thing is that I love you.
I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you—
You couldn’t imagine yourself leaving.
There was no place in the whole world that you would have rather been in right now. And no one else you would have wanted to share that place with.
It felt reasonable to stay. And wish for him to stay, too.
Jungkook had to scoot closer on the bed to reduce the distance between you two, and as soon as he did, he leaned in right away. He’d hesitated before, got scared, panicked and changed his mind. Tonight, he would do nothing of the sort.
His lips touched yours before you could formulate a single doubt and his kiss effectively silenced all the noises and echoes in your head.
Truthfully, he knew that there was a third thing he didn’t tell you, but when you kissed him back, less tentatively than the first time on the bus, he couldn’t imagine ever saying anything to you again. Speaking seemed like an immeasurable waste of time.
Instead, he pulled you closer, his lips locked on yours as one of his hands held the side of your face. His gentle fingertips contrasted with the coldness of his lip ring against your lips as he touched the skin of your cheek like he wasn’t sure, not even now, that it was really you he was holding. His other hand found its way around your waist and settled there—the gesture so intimate, so familiar.
He kissed you and it felt inevitable. Like everything you’d been doing up to this point was meant to lead you here – even the break-up four years ago.
As Jungkook felt your hands on his chest, careful and barely there, he mentally cursed himself for wearing this white shirt yet again—the fabric was too thick for him to properly feel you.
Still, he recognised the ghost of your touch as though he’d never been apart from you. As though you’d always stayed like this, locked in a desperate embrace in the tenth-floor room of a hotel in Amsterdam.
There were endless somethings bursting persistently in his chest as he tasted you, deepening the kiss by bringing his tongue over yours. Fireworks and flames and entire conflagrations all wreaked havoc on his heart.
This time, there were no promises of five minutes, and no curtains to separate you from everyone else. When you whimpered quietly, in response to him pulling you up until one of your legs was thrown over his and you were seated firmly on his thigh, he was the only one who heard it. The only one who felt your heavy breathing on his lips as he kissed you.
And if, by a lucky chance, there was any oxygen left in the room, neither of you needed it as your holds on each other grew tighter, hands grasping whatever materials they could reach and pulling—until he took your shirt off, until you took off his.
Every single one of your nerve endings was focused solely on him—his taste, his scent, his touch, his warmth, the roughness of his dark jeans underneath you, the softness of the skin on his chest. Your body instinctively drew closer, prompting him to clench his thigh as he wrapped his arms around you even more tightly.
His lips gently trailed kisses down your jawline and onto your neck, and it was as intoxicating as it was overwhelming. He remembered your body—how could he forget when it haunted his dreams almost every night?—but he yearned to create new memories, to trace the lines of your figure that he’d memorised and bring them to life in a new and different way.
You helped his eager hands find the edge of your sports bra and had to briefly pull away from him to slide it over your head. He pulled you back to him as soon as you did, needing to get lost in your touch, to feel your skin against his.
Your hotel room was filled with so much electricity, the two of you could have lit all of Amsterdam up.
“There’s so much I want to say to you. So much I have to say,” he breathed against your lips while his hands caressed your exposed sides, tracing the familiar maps on your skin.
You pulled him closer by gripping the back of his neck and exhaled, “show me instead.”
The meaningfulness, or rather, meaninglessness, of the moment seemed secondary. You wouldn’t analyse what this symbolised or where you stood.
Instead, you’d analyse how kissing him—touching him, feeling his skin, hearing his breathing—felt good. How it felt right. Like you’d been lying to yourself by doing everything else but this.
Sitting on his lap as he held you firmly in his arms—essentially trapping you in his grip, in his scent, in him—you could feel the rest of the world fade away into the recesses of your mind that you didn’t consider important at this given point.
Focusing on the feeling of his tongue against yours and the firmness underneath you, you allowed the scorching heat of the moment to take control of your movements as you instinctively moved your hips against his and forced him to suck in a shaky breath.
You undid the buckle of his belt and he had to pull back just a little, breaking the kiss. His head was spinning, overwhelmed by your closeness and the rapid beating of his heart. It wasn’t the first time you had been this close, but it had been so long, and he’d wanted this so much, that it felt like he’d never done this before.
Noticing your trembling hands, he helped you with his belt by loosening his grip on your waist. As soon as your fingers reached the zipper of his pants, he grabbed your forearms—successfully halting your progress in ridding him of his jeans—and swiftly flipped you over onto your back on the bed.
Your eyes met for a split second as he hovered over you, silently exchanging a conversation that neither of you dared to voice.
He leaned in to kiss you again and allowed you to get back to the previous task. Kissing him back, you finally managed to lower his jeans to his knees, and the simple feeling of your touch on the back of his thighs nearly made him see stars. Leaning his forehead against yours, he squeezed his eyes shut and bit his lip to regain his composure.
He briefly sat up to kick off his jeans—as quickly as he could, because the room temperature fell a hundred degrees when he wasn’t touching you—and you took a moment to trace the patterns of ink on his arm with your eyes.
You were with him when he got his first tattoo.
He acted tough in the tattoo parlour, but once the artist took you both down to the basement, all of his bravery faded. It was rather chilly down there—Jungkook was pouting when he took his jacket off, revealing his shivering skin—and he’d chosen his knuckles as a place for his first tattoo. It was going to hurt.
He knew that, in theory. But the way he squeezed your hand and bit his lip when the needle pierced his skin for the first time still surprised you both. You weren’t sure who was in more pain by the end of the session—him, from the fresh ink on his hand, or you, from how hard he’d been squeezing your hand.
Now, he had a full sleeve. And you felt a pang of pain in your chest, because there were so many tattoos that you hadn’t seen him get.
You hadn’t been there when the needle pierced his skin again and again. You hadn’t seen the way he closed his eyes, clenched his jaw, and placed a hand on your knee—for support, for reassurance, for all-consuming love.
You hadn’t helped him apply lotion on the fresh ink, hadn’t teased him for being a baby, hadn’t been shut up with a kiss. You hadn’t traced the intricate lines on his skin with the tips of your fingers—careful, gentle, loving.
You hadn’t been there for four years.
But you were here now.
Just as your gaze reached his shoulder, your eyes locked on the patterns you’d never touched, Jungkook turned to you and caught you staring. The dazed look in your eyes before he had even done anything affected him in more ways than he could count.
With a wide, shameless grin and a raised eyebrow, he leaned into you again. You noticed right away that he was about to say something that would surely ruin the moment, but you pressed a hand to his chest, stopping him before he could.
“Don’t,” you warned. There was humour and light and excitement in your eyes.
Chuckling as if you’d read his mind, he pressed a kiss to your lips and mumbled, “wasn’t going to say anything.”
“Liar,” you exhaled against his mouth as he quickly slid your biker shorts and panties down your hips, your back barely leaving the bed.
“Honest,” he countered in a soft whisper, his lips hovering over your neck as his hands returned to your waist and he aligned your hips with his. “I have better things on my mind.”
It was hard to determine which one of you was to blame for ending this unnecessary bickering by inhaling too sharply – you, who reached the edge of his boxers and pulled them down, removing the last layer of clothing between you; or him, who gently caressed your thighs, drawing deliberately slow, teasing circles that inched closer to your core.
He managed to kick off his boxers without letting go of you—which was a talent that was difficult to advertise, but a talent nonetheless—and kissed you deeply. One of his fingers slid over your thighs and traced over your folds, causing your body to twitch in anticipation as you gripped his forearms for support.
His touch felt foreign and familiar at the same time – he knew how to find every single one of your nerve endings, but your body seemed to have forgotten that he knew.
It was almost frightening how he sensed exactly how to touch you to elicit a response—the pillows of his fingers effortlessly reached the bundle of nerves on your clit at just the right time to make your back arch off the bed involuntarily, seeking more friction. Your breathing grew louder every time he applied more pressure to his touch.
It really didn’t feel fair at all—the way he appeared to know your body better than you did, even after all these years.
A frustrated whimper escaped your lips when he added another finger, picking up the pace. He alternated between gentle rubs and teasing caresses, and his touch made your head spin, but you wanted more of him. All of him.
He only inserted a finger for a fraction of a second before lightly brushing it over your folds—the motion so sweet and then suddenly not enough. Your nails were about to draw blood from how tight you were gripping his arms.
“Don’t tease,” you exhaled, more a plea than a command. “Not now.”
There was a hint of promise here, and Jungkook smiled before nodding. He kissed your lips, but instead of pulling away, he increased his pace—toying with your clit with just enough pressure and at just the right angle that you could have cried out if you hadn’t been biting your lip so hard.
“Fuck,” was all you could respond with as your eyes rolled back from the intense sensation. “Jungkook—”
This time his name was encouraging. It was begging. It made him groan as he leaned in, already almost painfully hard as he rubbed your clit, spreading your wetness with his fingers.
“Hmm.” He touched your neck with his lips in a sloppy, wet kiss that sent shivers down your spine. “You look so beautiful.”
“Fuck,” you repeated, the relentless ministrations of his fingers rendering you incapable of a more coherent sentence. “Fuck.”
And just when you felt the pressure in your stomach building, he pulled away abruptly.
The loss of contact made you exhale with enough agitation for it to resemble a whine. This earned you a smirk from him as he pulled back slightly, convinced he was just doing what you’d asked because he did indeed stop teasing.
To be fair, it was for his benefit, too. Your body, your warmth, your heavy breaths—he knew it all teased him more than he could ever tease you.
Struggling to maintain his composure, he bit his lip and reached for his length, giving it a few languid strokes.
The first glimpses of concern started to creep in when he realised he had no protection, but he saw you nod at the pile of suitcases by your bed. Confused initially, he rolled off of you and approached what appeared to be a welcome basket on top of the pile.
“Don’t tell me…” he mumbled in disbelief as he picked up the wicker basket—decorated with an appropriate white bow.
“Yeah,” you confirmed his thoughts and sure enough, among complimentary bottles of shampoo and tubes of toothpaste, he found a box of condoms.
Under different circumstances, he would have embraced his inner teenager and dropped everything to giggle at this, but he tried to stay composed. That is, until he looked at you and saw that you were biting your lip in an obvious attempt to hold back laughter.
“Well, this is quite convenient,” he remarked, encouraged by your amusement, as he climbed back on the bed. “Almost meant to be, no?”
“Don’t spoil the moment,” you warned, pressing your lips together to conceal your smile. “Just hurry.”
“Say that again for me?” he teased. “I love it when you beg.”
Undeterred by the punch on his shoulder that he received in response, Jungkook laughed and ripped the bag open. He unrolled the condom onto his length with relative ease despite the slight shake in his hands.
You reached out to help him, and he realised he might actually pass out when he felt you touch him. The tips of your fingers were on the tip of his length as he brought it closer to your entrance.
He shook his head and warned breathlessly, all of his previous confidence gone, “I’m not—not going to last long.”
He could tell as much even before he entered you, but after you nodded—giving him voiceless permission—and, slowly, almost agonisingly, he slid inside, he realised he may have miscalculated.
He might not last at all.
Lowering his head as he paused, not even halfway in, he bit his lip in concentration and closed his eyes. He couldn’t get himself together when you looked like that under him—almost too lost in the feeling of him, in the pleasant stretch, in the way you couldn’t help but clench around him as your walls anticipated fitting all of him in.
“Fuck,” he exhaled shakily as you tightened around him. He really needed to get a grip. More sternly, he repeated, “fuck,” and, with a more forceful thrust of his hips, he fully bottomed out.
You threw your head back at the sudden motion, needing a second to adjust to the stretch. This was helped greatly by one of his hands as he caressed your hips, your waist, your breasts while he gave you as much time as you needed. Hė toyed with your nipple between his fingers and the gentle touch and the utmost admiration in his dark eyes sent sparks straight to your core.
After you quietly urged him to move, it still took him a whole minute before he felt confident enough to pull almost all the way out and then push back in, testing both of your limits. He looked at you—because he couldn’t not look at you underneath him, not even if it meant he’d lose himself right away—and the expression on your face was so dreamy that he didn’t even realise he shuddered in exhilaration.
Your head was still thrown back as you held your lower lip in a tight grip between your teeth. When you slowly opened your eyes, your gaze met his right away. And there was barely anything—fuck it, there was nothing—that he could have done to prepare for it.
He thought he may as well have died then and there because nothing in his life would ever compare to the colour of your eyes when you looked at him.
Swallowing the groan in the back of his throat, he leaned in to press his lips to yours as he began to move. It was slow at first, then his hips gradually gained more speed as he felt your warm walls pulling him in. Your fingers found their way to his hair, getting tangled in the dark strands as his hips pressed into yours harder—not just faster, but with more force, too, each brush of his length igniting a new fire inside of you.
He made it impossible for you to catch your breath as he kissed you with as much fervour as before, not once slowing down the pace of his hips. Everything he did was in response to you—the way you arched your back, your whimpers in between the messy, open-mouthed kisses, the way you pulled his hair, the way you held onto his shoulders.
He knew that if he lost concentration, he’d unravel immediately. It’s been so long, too long. He’s wasted far too many nights in foreign beds, chasing highs that had always felt forced and artificial. He wasn’t prepared for the real thing. He wasn’t prepared for you.
“Fuck. I’d missed you, my love,” he whispered hazily between kisses, each word accompanied by a thrust of his hips, “so fucking much.”
You felt shivers run down your spine again. If you could have formed a sentence—let alone voiced it—you would have reciprocated.
You would have told him that you missed him too. And you would have told him how much it scared you, the way this feeling was so intense that you seemed to disregard everything else.
But you couldn’t focus.
His length stroked your walls with an exemplary balance of force and tenderness. His tongue was in your mouth, the kiss hot, heavy, messy. His hands were all over your skin, warm, eager, relentless.
He filled your head with stars.
You could not speak, you could not say anything that wasn’t a breathless whisper of his name every time he pulled away to give you both a chance to inhale.
He understood you without words, however. And the response you had to him was about to tip him over the edge. His movements became too fast to be precise, his thrusts grew sloppy, his breathing got heavier, his groans louder.
The knot in your stomach formed much faster than you would have liked. You wanted this to last longer, but all of it felt reckless—dangerous and outrageous—and so good—too­ good—that you broke the kiss, a strangled cry of his name passing your lips as a warning that you were close.
“Yeah?” he whispered, kissing your jaw as he pressed his thumb on your clit. The rubbing motion matched the speed of his hips and the intensified pleasure caught you so unexpectedly that you could no longer control how loud you were.
Your heavy breaths mixed with curses and broken fragments of his name—he knew these sounds would echo around his mind for every waking moment—as your back arched off the bed and into him.
And when he heard you cry out, when he felt your grip on his arms tighten as your body jerked forwards, your hips meeting his, then lowering again in uncontrollable muscle spasms, when he felt your walls clench around him so much that they nearly stopped his movements, he almost whined, sensing his own high, brought on by the feeling of yours.
There were curses spilling from your lips as you came and you held onto him so tightly that he knew he’d have bruises on his arms tomorrow morning. Already, he couldn’t wait to look at them. He couldn’t wait to do this again.
His hips drove into yours—sloppily, accompanied by loud sounds of skin slapping on skin—until he fell over the edge, groaning loudly as he spilled himself into the condom. His body twitched as he pushed into you—one final stroke of your soft, sensitive walls—then he stilled completely.
His face was inches from yours, and you were the one who reached out to connect your lips, turning his groan into a dangerous whimper. Your kiss burned through him like electricity and, impossibly, seemed to prolong his climax.
He kissed you back like it was the first time, still powerless from his high, still feeling like he was floating, unable to come down, to pull out, to stop kissing you.
Breathless, you whined against his mouth and felt him stir inside of you, sparking a sudden new fire in your stomach before the previous one could fully go out.
He wanted you, needed you still—maybe he’d never stop. But it was the way you responded to him, the way he felt you need him as much as he needed you, that made him growl into the kiss as his hands reached for the parts of you that he'd touched hundreds of times tonight already.
It was almost desperate, the way you were still clinging to one another—like you’d never touched each other before and never would again.
Finally, you pulled away to inhale. And to, hopefully, recover.
“Fuck,” Jungkook whispered, summarising all that you were about to say.
You both chuckled, giddy, excited, almost euphoric.
He rested his forehead against yours and pressed another soft kiss to your lips before slowly pulling out, and stepping back to discard the condom.
In no more than three seconds, he was back on the bed next to you, pulling you to his side and kissing you once more.
It was three seconds then, he decided, that he could survive away from you.
For a good minute after that, the two of you just watched each other, your chests rising and falling as your bodies tried to fathom something that your minds failed to grasp.
Suddenly, you shook your head.
“What?” he asked. His lips were stretched into what felt like a permanent smile.
“Nothing, I just… it would be very difficult to explain where we were if someone noticed us missing,” you said—your words humorous, but the meaning behind them serious.
Even though you smiled as you spoke, Jungkook swallowed and nodded, solemn all of a sudden.
“I know,” he said. “And I don’t care if anyone knows. I only care that we do.”
You ran your tongue over your swollen lips, preparing to say something that he knew he wouldn’t like. But he was paralysed as he watched you. He swore your lips were the colour of his dreams, and he had to clench his jaw so he wouldn’t lean over and kiss you again.
He forced himself to roll onto his back and spoke up before you could, making sure his voice was as nonchalant as possible, given the hurricane inside his chest, “can we—can we not talk about that right now? Can I just stay here instead?”
You looked at him—which was incredibly easy when he wasn’t looking back at you—and forgot, for a moment, that you had to reply.
He looked almost ethereal like this, with his head resting on the pillows next to you, his hair tousled, stray curls sticking to the droplets of sweat on his forehead, his lips pursed slightly as he stared ahead. A part of you wished to take a picture, to hold onto this moment forever. But a different part of you didn’t want anyone else to witness him like this, not even the lens of your phone camera.
He suddenly turned his head to look at you and you blinked, averting your eyes as you remembered that you hadn’t spoken.
“Hmm. Yes,” you said, the word scratchy as it caught in your dry throat. You cleared it and tried again, “okay.”
Jungkook hummed somehow ambiguously and looked away.
“What?” you asked, confused by the look on his face.
“I thought you’d still tell me to leave,” he admitted.
You sighed. “You should. But I want you to stay. I’m fine with doing what I want tonight, however stupid that might turn out to be.”
He ignored the doubt in your voice—he was getting good at that—and looked at you again. He knew you probably couldn’t even begin to imagine the sort of fire your words ignited inside of him, and just how far the sparks travelled on his skin.
“Then I hope you know,” he said, “that I’m fine with only getting ten minutes of sleep tonight.”
Quietly, you replied, “I think I’m fine, too.”
“Yeah?” he asked, briskly turning to his side and propping himself up on his elbow with renewed excitement.
His abrupt jump made you chuckle despite your best attempts to remain serious, and his grin widened as he brought his hand to the side of your face and leaned in to kiss you once more. Then, twice more. Then three more times—in perpetuity, he hoped.
He knew that he was blessed to have experienced a lot of happiness in his life. But nothing came close to the feeling of your lips on his as the two of you played around in your hotel bed in Amsterdam, two nights before his band’s inaugural performance in The Netherlands during their first European tour.
This was a dream, it had to be.
And he was determined to do everything to make sure he never woke up from it.
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chapter title credits: sleep token, “like that”
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muneca-lemon-steppa · 6 months
Text
All Kinds of Trouble
Alfie Solomons x Reader, Fluff, 1.2k words
Warnings: Cursing
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A/N: Hi guys!! Ok so maybe hiatus is over? I'm trying to be gentle with myself and not hold myself to high standards in posting schedules. Again, therapy and Bar prep are a lot to handle rn, but I was able to do this little piece! This is based of a request sent in by my sweet friend @jassiefayee !!!! I hope you enjoy this angel!! Anyway, love you all so much! Have an amazing day!
Alfie didn’t find peace in many things. The business and all. Made him toss and turn at night, and in the daylight caused him to explode from the pure idiocy of people around him.
But walks in the park with Cyril? Now that gave him peace. With Cyril by his side, anyone who may have wanted to cause trouble stayed far away. Cyril’s imposing stature and mean looking face kept many men looking to scrap at bay, but little did they know that Cyril was by far the sweetest dog in Camden. And the fresh air did Alfie good. Being out in the park, feeling the breeze, hearing children and birds milling about created a sort of temple for him. A quiet place for him to let his mind rest, talk to himself (or God if he had a particular question), or just hum to the beat of Cyril's paws on the ground. This was his rest. This was his peace.
Now it should be noted, that one of the reasons that Alfie loved this particular park was that it was free of distractions for both him and Cyril. While Cyril was a very sweet and good natured dog who hardly ever caused an unnecessary ruckus, he was still a dog. And dogs have this strange habit, if not fantastic ability, to completely change the course of their owner's life.
So it was during a brisk walk on a fine November day where Alfie was suddenly pulled with all the force of heaven’s angels by Cyril’s lead through the park. And just as quick as he was yanked he was halted, nearly tripping over his boots and coat, and falling into Cyril and what might possibly be one of those treacherous angels.
It had become a relatively new habit for you to take a few moments of your day to sit in the park. Whether strolling, reading, or simply listening to the music of the city, you found the meditative state you entered in the park particularly divine. Spending all day cooped up in the house was not doing anyone any favors, and your mother insisted that you look at the sky, breathe in fresh air, or do something to get your energy out. And you enjoyed the respite from your family’s eyes and ears, and the view you caught of other people’s comings and goings. Often making up stories for the familiar faces that passed your eyes.
You had seen Mr. Solomons and his a dog before. It was hard to miss them. Both imposing. Even if Mr. Solomons wasn’t physically too tall, the air in which he carried himself made him seem absolutely monstrous. And the dog he walked along with came with a silent stature to match. When you mentioned to your mother that Mr. Solomons frequented your park, she all but forbid you to go to the park again. He was dangerous. A brute. Nothing good was associated with him. He was an animal. Damned.
Everyone in Camden had a story about Mr. Solomons. Even if they personally had never met him, they knew someone who knew someone who had crossed his path and suffered greatly. Fewer than those who crossed his path, were the women who had the pleasure of spending an evening with him. Demanding. Particular. Incredibly cross with hardly a smile crossing his firm mouth and creased brow. You had heard them all, many a time. And each time you heard the stories more fantastical and gory and outrageous they became. From the way the neighbors spoke of him, he might has well been an ogre who ate good men for supper. A confidant of the devil himself.
Yet those stories never deterred you from letting your eyes wander over to him when he made his way to the park. Surely observing doesn’t damn one’s soul right? And wondering if stories are true surely cannot condemn. Besides, he was never close enough to truly make a difference. A glance and gaze and thought were all that you experienced with the fearsome King of Camden. Until this afternoon, when that monstrous dog came charging at you with a gleeful and slobbery smile. And for whatever reason you never moved from your seat. You stayed planted on your spot on the bench, waiting for whatever was to come. And your supposed attack was merely a disgusting kiss to the neck and chin from the dog, and happy pants from it as well. It’s master, cursing and bellowing at hundred pound puppy who was uninterested in the threats of its flustered master.
You couldn’t help but giggle at the reddened face of Mr. Solomons, clearly out of breathe from the exertion of the sudden chase. “Mr. Solomons are you quite alright? Do you need to sit?”
“Hmm? No, no don’t worry about me angel, m’fine. This damn dog knows better than to run full force in a park. You alright love? Hope Cyril didn’t scare ya.”
You smiled warmly at him, and he was convinced he must have died in the chase and gone to Heaven. Your sweet eyes and tempting lips all too pretty to be here in Camden. You scratched Cyril’s ears before answering, "Oh no Mr. Solomons, I'm fine. Cyril here is very very sweet."
"Now treacle, I think I'm at a disadvantage. Don't like that at all me. Now how is it yeah, that you know my name and now my dog's name... but I don't get to know your name sweetness?"
With a quirked brow you answer, "Oh Mr. Solomons, everyone knows your name. The ferocious King of Camden, and his demon dog. Lots of tales about you Mr. Solomons.”
Alfie allowed himself a smile at your cheek, “Lots of stories eh? Which one is your favorite?”
“The one where you bested the devil himself in a game of chess and won the keys to hell.”
Alfie made himself comfortable next to you on the bench, making sure that his thigh touched yours, “Is that so? Your mum tell you that little one?”
You shook your head, “No sir. She told me I wasn’t to go near you.”
“And yet here you are, talking to bad men. Tsk tsk tsk. Naughty ain’t you?”
“It’s fun to be naughty sometimes. Don’t you agree Mr. Solomons?”
Alfie couldn’t help but bring his shiny rings to your cheek, taking stock of your face. You never flinched away, keeping fiery eyes locked on his. He hummed a tune you didn’t know, and stated, “There’s an opera tonight at 8. You’ll come with me. Wear something nice.”
“I don’t go to operas with strange men.”
“I don’t go to operas with strange women. Yet here we are sweet. I thought you liked being naughty.”
You couldn’t help but laugh at his brazenness. In truth, you couldn’t believe you allowed yourself to get this far. But it was too delicious to let go now. “You’ll pick me up on the corner of 10th and Victoria? At 6pm.”
“Now what will I do with you for two hours before the play treacle?”
You shrugged, “Show me how the King of Camden has a good night.”
Alfie laughed heartily, “Fuck me you really are a bad little thing aren’t you. Alright sweetness, I’ll pick you up there at 6. And let’s see what we can get up to.”
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harleehazbinfics · 2 months
Text
Mine, all mine.
a lucifer x reader fanfiction.
inspired by this ask: link
wc: 1728
warning: suggestive themes!!
a/n: sometimes i wish i could just give the program my brain and let it write itself. my ass is not suited for writing at extensive periods of time in one sitting.
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You were a sinner, made to rot in hell for all of eternity until exorcist end your miserable souls. However, you refused to lead that fate. You disliked how other demons would underestimate you just because of how weak and fragile you looked, especially with your wings. So, you improvised, you took this to your advantage, eventually one-by-one overlords toppled over from your powers, becoming your servants or souls you feasted on. You never sought to purge sinners or become an overlord in the process for that matter, it was just that you heavily disliked being underestimated by these narcissistic souls, that you couldn’t help but put them in their place.
After decades of doing the same thing over and over again, you decided you wanted something different to do, other than manipulating and devouring retched souls all the time. With Alastor’s recommendation, you find yourself in Hell’s Hazbin Hotel, a hotel that aims to rehabilitate sinners and help them go to heaven. You didn’t oppose to the idea and if there would be sinners that find this their calling, then you’d like to support them in their endeavors, unlike your pal Alastor. Besides, it would be a free meal if some jackass just wanted to stir up some trouble with both of you around.
So, that’s what you led you here to this moment.
“—and this is (y/n), our other host, they’ve been helping with the hotel just a few months ago, despite being a busy overlord and all,” Charlie introduces you to each other.
“It’s a pleasure to meet the King of Hell himself. How do you do, my lord?” you greet with a polite smile after dipping your head in acknowledgement.
However, everything flew past Lucifer’s head when he saw your figure. You had a pleasant aura with an angelic face paired with bright beautiful wings that had him thrown in a loop. You had a kind and gentle gaze, lips a luscious shade of pink and cheeks full of life. You were simply ethereal—you didn’t look like you were from hell. You perfectly fit the standard for heaven’s angels and their winners.
“Uhh, dad?”
“Yeah, huh?!” Lucifer startles awake from his daydreaming and pays attention to his daughter. Finally realizing he was on a balcony with Charlie and Vaggie, a long way from where he was lost in thought.
“So, what do you think?” Charlie asks expectantly holding her hands together.
“Uh, yeah yeah. They look great. Say, who was that little friend you had there down there, are they also an angel?” he asks straightforwardly with a finnicky undertone.
“What? (Y/n)? No, they’re an overlord here in hell and our host. Didn’t I already say that?” Charlie replied starting to get annoyed with her dad.
“Oh, I see. They were just very beautiful looking, especially with those wings. I almost certainly thought they were an angel,” he rambles.
Vaggie and Charlie look at Lucifer stunned as Charlie starts, “What? Are you--? No, wait, dad we’re getting sidetracked. I meant the hotel! What do you think of it?!”
Then Lucifer goes on a tangent on how sinners could never be redeemed, and that they were vicious people who misused the gift that he gave them leading them here in hell. Before Charlie could fully give on getting her cause across to her father, a crash interrupts them.
They teleport downstairs and see a bunch of loan sharks barging their way into the hotel.
“Everyone! Get somewhere safe! I’ll handle this,” Vaggie yells readying her spear.
“No, my dear, leave it to me. It's time I remind everyone why I am here,” Alastor announces transforming into his demon form.
You chuckle unfurling your wings flying close to him, “Don’t forget about me.”
Lucifer ultimately shuts his mouth as he watches you dive headfirst towards one of the sharks stretching your hand out to grab their faces. You slam him roughly on the ground as his strength drains from his body. The longer you placed your hand on him the more his body crumples and dries, slowly wilting away from your touch. Leaving behind a red pulsing orb, you unhinge your jaw wrapping your tongue around it before swallowing it whole.
Lucifer’s stomach drops to his feet from the realization of his misconception of you, but he undoubtedly receives a hard-on as he can’t help but sexualize your actions. Wondering how it would feel wrapped around your long tongue and enveloped by your lips as you swallowed all of him.
He smacks himself across the face to rid himself of his thoughts and fixes his eyes on you and Alastor finishing up your massacre and dusting yourselves off. As he sees you both banter playfully, he couldn’t help but be reminded of his irritation for the male and comment towards Charlie.
“Mhm, you see? What'd I tell you? Charlie, sinners are violent psychopaths, hell bent on causing as much pain and destruction as they can. There's really no point in trying.”
She angrily huffs and yells at him, “Dad! Stop! He's defending this hotel! It may be a bit more sadistic than I'd hoped, but he's doing it for me! How come he can have faith in me, but my own father can't?”
His face crumples as he realizes his mistake. Here was his daughter trying to realize her dreams but couldn’t even support her ideas and aspirations. He was no better than those elders that shunned him away for his dreams. He finally comes clean to Charlie and apologizes to her. Finally supporting her dream and agreed on setting up the meeting for her.
But before he teleports away, he glances at you which you only responded with a light smile and nodded your head at him appreciating his help. He couldn’t help but be expectant of the next time you’ll meet again. He wished that Charlie would give him a call again soon.
The next time you met was when the angels attacked the residents of the hotel. When the matter was settled, all of you—including the help you gathered from Cannibal Town, celebrated your win in the now more spacious hotel.
While the lot of them gathered sharing drinks on one side, he saw you by yourself on the other side. He stands next to you with a grin, tapping your shoulder and asks, “This seat taken?”
You get startled from his action unfamiliar with people touching you so casually and give a flustered answer, “N-no! Please have a seat.”
He chuckles as he sits next to you, noticing how you scooted a little further away from him. He feels saddened when he was trying to be close to you, but you pull yourself away from him. He couldn’t help but comment, “You don’t need to be so distant. I’m just trying to get to know you better.”
You give him a smile and wrap your hands around your drink before answering, “Sorry. I’m just not used to people trying to come close to me at this distance, with my powers and all.”
He tilts his head cutely making you giggle and continue, “I guess Charlie didn’t tell you. I have the powers to drain demon’s powers. The longer I touch ‘em they die, and their soul becomes mine.”
He lets out a sound of understanding and mutters, “So that’s what that was.”
You look at him with you chin on your hand on the counter looking at him in interest. “Have you been watching me, your majesty?” you couldn’t help but tease.
You were not disappointed as you watch his face turn red as he fumbled with his drink while he tries to reply, “W-well, I couldn’t help but admire how strong you were. Either in a fight or just casually talking to you, you just seem to be so confident that I can’t help but keep my eyes on you.”
“You’re beautiful,” he finishes with a dreamy sigh.
“Are you hitting on me?” you ask complemented with a seductive smile.
His breath hitches as he realizes what he did, as he panics trying to save himself, “I mean! Please don’t take this the wrong way! I was just admiring— whoops!”
He accidentally drops his drink in his flustered state, with both of your fast reflexes you caught the glass together. His hand covering yours, he tilts his head not noticing anything different with himself as he holds you.
Meanwhile, you hastily place the cup down on the counter and fretted over him, “Are you alright? Are you unwell anywhere?”
“No, I’m fine. I don’t feel much different actually,” he says looking at his hands.
You sigh in relief not expecting this man to throw you off your loop. You’re so composed all the time that having this man in your proximity just destroys your braincells with how cute and charming he was.
“Actually, can we do that again?” he asks with a serious look, to which you hesitantly accepted locking your hands together for a while. As time passes on without much progress to his experiment, the more your cheeks turn into a bright shade of red that he finally catches on to.
“What’s go you so flustered all of a sudden, angel?” he teases squeezing your hand a few times egging you on.
You cover your cheeks with your other hand and tightly held his hand to make him stop, “I’ve never held hands with someone before.”
He smirks inching closer to your face, feeling his breath on you as he tried to memorize every part of you with half-lidded eyes, “Never been this close with a handsome bloke before?”
You stand from your seat, evidently towering over him from the sheer height difference then caging him in his both of his hands above him as you pinned him to a wall behind him.
“Never. Would you like to change that?” you whispered by his ear, earning a shudder from him.
“Bet,” he grins letting his forked tongue slither out of his mouth introducing itself to you while letting himself loose and held your waist. “Let’s go somewhere quiet.”
As the two of you disappeared from the group’s sights, Angel drunkenly yells, “OH, SHIT! LUCIFER’S GETTING SOME ASS TONIGHT!”
“Ewwww,” Charlie cries in disgust not welcoming the thought of his father fucking someone in her brain.
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the-faceless-bride · 2 months
Note
can i have yandere clawd and deuce poly 😪 iltsm( i love yr writing ur one of my fav writers btw 💞)
Omg. I love both of them so much. 🥩🐍 Bluckle the FUCK up, it's a long one. I love them so much. I gave each their own section as to how this started, then the poly together. If you want more of them... Please... Please ask me. P.s. sorry about all the monster puns, I couldn't help myself
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🌕New Ghoul in School🐍
Warnings: OOC Clawd, OOC Duce, OOC Cleo?, OOC Draculaura? Clawd being a kicked puppy, yandere content, controlling behavior, turning to stone, non-con hugging, cuddling and Kisses, forced closeness, UNHEALTHY BEHAVIOR!, accusations of cheating, emotional cheating?
Characters : Clawd × Reader × Duce
Proof read : nope
Requested?: yes
You had just transferred from your normie school, Turns out people are so accepting of finding out you're a monster. So you transferred to Monster High, and being a new ghoul didn't seem so hard until you tripped an orange werecats tail and she picked a fight with you...
"and just Who, do you think you are? I don't know how you are your Normie friends play, but you don't want to mess with me Ghoul. I'll make you sorry-"
"why don't you go and pick on someone your own size Torilie?"
"yeah, Dude. Not cool."
🐾🐍 • and that's how it started. Just two Mansters defending the New Ghoul. They knew Torilie was one to pick fights and figured they would help you stay out of trouble for the time being. And the three of you became three peas in a pod. And while you all thought it was great, their Ghoulfriends... Had other ideas.
🐍🕶️ • Cleo started having problems as soon as you had arrived. Your first day she already knew who you were, what you were, where you came from, and if you were cool enough to be popular and associate with the Ghouls she does. And she deemed you not worthy. And that was putting a strain on your friendship.
🐍🕶️ • Duce was grown increasingly tired and frustrated. He loved Cleo, he did. But she could be... Emotionally, physically, and mentally exhausting. When they go out he has to change his personality to not embarrass her, she dictates who can can hang out with and when, and he has to constantly hear from her that he should be doing as she asks and says and do it happily as she goes against what her family wants to be with him. He doesn't want to do that anymore. He wants to be able to Shoot Hoops with Clawd, sit with Jackson at lunch, and talk about the Hissstory test. Listen to whatever playlist Holt made or play dodgeball with Slow Mo. Without Cleo saying when he can and can't.
But he just can't leave her. He's become so dependent on her. Hell, the last time She went to Scarise without him, he nearly went crazy as he didn't know what to do. He couldn't leave Cleo. Even if he wanted to... Unless. Maybe he didn't need to be dependent on her. Maybe. He could be dependent on you.
🐍🕶️ • Duce began to test the waters, which was the start of his obsession. For example at lunch when Cleo tells him to get the green eyed Salad and a water, he'll then turn around and ask you... Sometimes when you feel the burn of Cleo's raging stare you won't respond or say the same as Cleo, but on the days you don't pay attention or to stressed to care you recommend the meat plant sandwich and the yummy razzberry soda pop you've been drinking the past few days. And he'll pick your recommendation. And it Infuriates Cleo. He likes that with you, he has a choice, where Cleo demands and tells. You offer and recommend.
🐍🕶️ • this intimately ends in an explosive argument that Spectra has a field day covering. And Duce does something, not him. Her. Or anyone else in the school say coming. "I'm breaking up with you Cleo." a long still silence fills the halls as everyone takes a moment to process what he just said. Before Cleo screams and storms away, and Duce... Doesn't feel as heartbroken as he thought he should.
🐍🕶️ • Duce starts spending most if not all his free time with you and Clawd, well. Mostly you as Clawd gets called from Draculaura a lot. And while he's sad he can't spend more time with Clawd he's happy to spend time with you. You help groom his snakes, you help him pick which sunglasses he should wear each day, (even though they are all just different shades of red) as well as his many band sweaters. Rumors spread like wildfire, especially with Spectra's gossip site.
"Duce trades princess for new Ghoul?! Stay tuned for the possible new hot relationship??"
🐾🌕 • when Clawd first met you he thought you were great! He got a new friend to hang out with! Sure Manny, Heath, Gill, and Duce we're cool but Clawd has a thing for fashion and self-care, that's not something he really talks about with them BUT that's OK! cuz now he can talk about it with you! He ended up spending a bit of free time with you, anytime Draculaura was out and shopping or just Fanging out with her Ghoulfriends or catching up with her Cousin, he would spend his afternoon with you. Getting his hair straightened and trimmed, getting manicures so his nails don't get too sharp and ridged. And eventually, when he's comfortable with you, he'll start playing games. Like fetch or chase. The only issue is that when Duce started to come around more and Cleo trying to keep him on a leash, slowly Draculaura started calling him and needed him more and more. He didn't think much of it, until Duce's big breakup with Cleo. A week later Draculaura wouldn't leave him alone for a second, and anytime you started approaching she took his hand and pulled him in another direction.
🐾🌕 • it started becoming draining, he loves spending time with his Ghoulfriend. He truly did. But not when every two seconds she was hinting and implying all the time he spent with you was him creeping around behind her back. Nothing he did or said made her change her mind, now everything he did seemed to set her off. She was so paranoid, that he went out of his way to make her a gift to show that he loved her, but he accidentally made it worse, he had to try and hold back tears and puppy cries as she said, "Bad Clawd!" over and over while tugging his ear. He doesn't understand what he did wrong, he just made a new friend. You nor him did anything. So why was she being like this?
Any attempts to talk about it were shut down, as she tried keeping him away from you. And he just couldn't take it anymore, he liked being clingy but he was clingy because he genuinely wanted to be around his partner not just sticking to them like glue-watching like a hawk to 'catch them in the act'. He would go as far as to say this was worse than the time he was dumped for Valentine the love manipulator.
🐾🌕 • Clawd began to confide in you, Draculaura wouldn't listen to him so he was happy you did. He spent hours just sitting under a tree at the back of the school with you, drawing doodles in the dirt, ears tucked back to his head as he vented about his feelings and how the recent arguments had affected him, you tried to help every time. But eventually, word got to Draculaura about your little meetings, and stormed over one day with her ghoulfriends in toe.
Both you and Clawd had to endure the burning glare of the Ghouls, Draculaura ranting and raving and ultimately giving him an ultimatum. You or her. And Clawd's ears pinned flat to his head, he didn't want to lose his Ghoulfriend but he didn't want to lose you either. But before he could answer Draculaura said something that gave him the push to his ultimate answer. "ugh, I should've known! A guy hangs out with other guys like him! And Duce is a lying, dirty, cheater and so are you! And this new Ghoul sure has some nerve to go around sneaking with other Mansters knowing they are dating someone! If that's the kind of Manster you are Clawd then maybe... Eh *hick* MaYbe we shouldn't Be togEther!" a moment passes where Clawd looks down into Draculaura's wet violet eyes, sighs, then answers. "maybe we shouldn't." the ghoul's Gasp and Draculaura sobs, "FINE! WE ARE OVER!"
🐾🌕 • Clawd thought relieved he wouldn't be interrogated every day and being told he's bad, he's still heartbroken that the Ghoul he thought he'd spend his life with was gone. He clung to you and Duce for security and long talks to make him feel better and eventually, he did. Clawd was back to his peppy, wide-eyed, excitable self again. In fact, he's the happiest he's been. His mood wasn't Even shaken when he found out Draculaura had begun dating his sister, he just didn't care. He was happy.
🐾🌕 • It wasn't until a late-night Chat; that you and Clawd had stayed over at Duce's house after seeing a new skinwalker Scareitage Boovie that Clawd discovered that not only He had feelings for you but so did Duce... And well, he had always liked Duce maybe even more than just a bro, but this changed everything. And they agreed. A scarily wonderful idea...
"Vampy puts doggy out for good? Or does Doggy like the Dog house with his chew toy?"
🐍🐾 • now Duce and Clawd are softer yandere's than the normal. But that doesn't mean they won't use force if they need to. Duce is a Dependant, laid-back, stalker-type yandere. He's ok with letting you have wiggle room as long as he knows where you are at all times and can get to you in a short period. Whereas Clawd is a Clingy, overprotective, worshiper-type Yandere. Clawd wants to be near you all the time if you let him, but he's ok with letting you go for a while as long as he has Duce he always knows where you are because Duce knows, if at any point Duce doesn't know for some reason or he's not around Duce to find out, he'll use his nose to track you down.
🐍🐾 • You probably wouldn't know they are yandere's unless you start trying to spend more time with others that aren't them. The more you try and hang out with Operetta and Cupid they start to get a little more aggressive and demanding of your time and attention. Which can trigger some alarm bells that something isn't right. The best thing would be to try and talk and compromise they are willing to do that as long as you promise to let them keep tabs "for safety reasons," and you spend time with them immediately after.
🐍🐾 • after a month or two they start to be more openly affectionate and act like a Throuple, it went over your head at first with Duce's laid-back attitude and Clawd's over-excitable personality being normal, but the more Clawd wanted to play fetch and hug you, and Duce constantly being around you despite having the freedom to hang out with his other dudes you start to get the idea they might be romantically interested.
🐍🐾 • You opened to the idea, and the relationship seemed to be working well... Until they started to become, overwhelming. Clawd always over your shoulder, Duce always seeming to know where you are... Even when you didn't tell him where you were. And things took a turn when you tried to tell them you needed space. "You're... Breaking up... With us?" you sputtered, you definitely didn't answer and deny fast enough as you felt your body start to stiffen and cold. Duce had turned you to stone. Clawd whimpered while holding your cold stiff stone body, "im sorry sweetheart. But we can't have you running from us. Just be good ok? Please?" after that you'd been chained to them by that point. Nobody would've believed you if you told them the school's Cool guy and oversized puppy were forcing you into a relationship...
🐍🐾 • they aren't too harsh on punishments. For the most part. Once you tried to run away once, you waited for a moment to be alone before printing off trying to get somewhere, anywhere but there. But you forgot who you were dealing with and Clawd chased you down. Clawd's punishments involve many forced hugs, kisses, and closeness. If he shows how much he loves you at some point you'll see it's true and love him too! Right?
Duce will turn you to stone anytime he gets an idea you're about to run off. He makes Clawd drag you to his house. Which takes a lot of manipulation and convincing. Clawd doesn't want to lock you away to be alone. He wants you to be around them! But Duce scares him into going along with it. Even sometimes provokes him to anger to be more willing to lock you in a dirty old basement.
🐍🐾 • overall. As long as you stay and promise to love them, and don't mind clinginess it's a cute relationship... But if you reject them, you'll spend a lot of time in an old basement in Duce's home, alive but unable to move. To feel. Or scream.
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idiopath-fic-smile · 6 months
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more Singin' in the Rain ot3, now on the honeymoon boat
part one
part two
The ship was a grand one. Cosmo, whose nautical knowledge began and ended with that Douglas Fairbanks picture about pirates, could tell that much. There was a majestic dining room and a wide, clean promenade and state-of-the-art engines that would get them to Europe in just a few days. The dining room even featured a four-piece band, who were a little stiff but not half bad.
His room, his island of privacy away from Don and Kathy and their combined magnetic pull, was bigger than he expected, well-appointed. It went a little overboard embracing an Egyptian theme, although the decorators had tastefully stopped short of including an actual mummy in a giant stone sarcophagus. He was grateful for that. The piano, as promised, sat in the place of where a desk might normally be, keys gleaming invitingly.
There was just one problem.
“How,” said Cosmo, dropping onto the bed, “did you manage to accidentally book us two adjoining rooms?”
“I’m sorry,” said Don, crossing his arms. “There must’ve been a mix-up at the offices.”
“Maybe the travel agent heard wrong on the telephone,” said Kathy. She rubbed Don’s back consolingly. Don shot her a grateful look. It was all very sweet, probably.
“How?” said Cosmo again. “Nothing sounds like ‘adjoining.’ It doesn’t even have a rhyme.”
“Are you certain?” said Kathy.
Cosmo nodded; he’d already run through the alphabet, twice. “The closest I can get to is ‘disappointing.’” Don was leaning into Kathy’s back rub like a cat, but his face was full of uncatlike guilt. “Don,” said Cosmo, “look, pal, I appreciate the free ticket, but please tell me you’ll fix this.”
“I already talked to the cruise director and there aren’t other rooms,” said Don. “We’re out in the ocean, what do you want me to do, alert the coast guard?”
“Alert the coast guard,” said Cosmo, “flag down a passing mermaid, strike a bargain with Poseidon himself!” 
“Who?” said Don.
“The Greek god of the sea,” said Kathy, like that was the important part.
“I don’t speak any Greek,” Don replied, “do you?”
“I will swim to shore,” Cosmo said, to nobody in particular.
“We can swap over to a different ship when we get to port if we need to,” said Don, shoulders slumping uncharacteristically. He must’ve felt worse about his screw-up than he let on. “In the meantime, the door locks from both sides, so—”
“I’m not—worried that you’ll barge in at all hours pestering me for a cup of sugar,” Cosmo broke in.
Don blinked. Kathy went very still beside him.
Out loud, it sounded more suggestive than he’d meant. Why had he picked sugar, the sauciest ingredient of the baking world?
“Or flour,” he amended.
“Then what’s the trouble?”
“I.” Cosmo sighed. “Why am I the only person in this room who seems to know what a honeymoon is for?”
“Why,” said Don, wide-eyed, “what’s it for?”
“D’you think, if I jumped in the sea and started paddling now—” said Cosmo.
“Don’t worry,” said Kathy. “Don and I can be very quiet.”
And the trouble was, this was worse. The prospect of hearing them from the other side of a single thin door was one thing, and honestly it was plenty bad—Cosmo had played a role during several key moments of their courtship but at least he could say he didn’t know what they sounded like in the throes of passion—but for reasons that Cosmo did not feel like examining, the thought of them stifling themselves in the act, the thought of them naked in bed together, touching each other, biting down on a giggle or a moan, and whispering, ‘Shh, don’t wake Cosmo,’ made him feel like his whole stomach was a sore tooth.
“Don’t put yourselves out on my account,” he told them. Belatedly, he realized that was maybe the worst thing he could’ve said. He blushed, and then he stood, face still flaming—Damn his Irish complexion—nodded to them both, and fled to the promenade.
.
The ocean stretched in all directions as far as Cosmo could see. It was dizzying, and also strangely calming. He stared out at the waves and reminded himself, hardly for the first time, that it wasn’t Don’s fault how Cosmo felt about him. It wasn’t Don’s fault, and it wasn’t Kathy’s fault that she was maybe the most charming woman he’d ever met. You could certainly blame Don for booking the rooms, for not double-checking over the telephone, but there was no malice to it. They were both, at the end of the day, wonderful people who had decided to open this trip up to him for whatever reason, and besides, his bed was piled with any number of pillows he could jam over his head if they did make noise at night.
He stood there holding onto the railing for a long time. Eventually, he heard footsteps behind him. 
“Feeling better?” said Don quietly, almost lost under the roar of the water. Without really trying to, Cosmo turned to look at him. Under his coat, Don was wearing a nicer suit than before, and the color had returned to his face. He looked—well, he looked like a handsome movie star married to a gorgeous starlet. Don took a few steps and rested his hands next to Cosmo’s on the rail.
“It’s the salt air, I think,” said Cosmo, nodding. “Feels like I could do anything. Why, I might write another musical, wear my trousers baggy, become a pirate.”
“Your trousers are fine as is,” said Don.
Cosmo shrugged. “A little change can be good.”
“Sure, unless it isn’t.” Don sighed. It was an awfully sad sigh to be having about the fit of a guy’s pants, Cosmo thought, but then Don turned to him and added, “You know, we really have missed you.”
“Don,” said Cosmo patiently. “I was at your house this Thursday. I stayed for three hours. I drank all your gin.”
Don didn’t make a crack about the gin, which was probably a bad sign. “And before that?” 
Before that, it had been a while. Cosmo winced inwardly. “I’ve been busy,” he said, “you’ve been busy, Kathy’s been busy—”
“We invited you over, four different times,” Don interjected. “If I’ve done something, if we’ve done something, I wish you would just tell us.”
In front of them, the sea rolled and rolled. Cosmo thought about deflection, about twisting the moment into a joke, a sword duel where cold steel met only an outstretched rubber chicken: squeak.
He let out a long breath. “Why the Hell did you bring me along on your honeymoon?”
“We brought you along because we wanted you along,” said Don. “Whenever you’re not there, we wish you were. It doesn’t need to be any harder than that.”
“So it isn’t…” Cosmo started.
“What?” “You and Kathy aren’t having problems? Hoping for a buffer, or a distraction?” It was a very new theory on Cosmo’s part, and once the words had left his mouth, he realized how badly they fit the facts at hand.
Don smiled a private little smile. “Me and Kathy are doing just marvelously.”
“That’s splendid,” said Cosmo, because he had to say something, apparently. Marvelous didn’t bode well for Cosmo’s sanity at night, but it beat his friends being sad. “Lovely.” He let his cadences drift into a so-so British accent. “Capital show, old sport. Tip-top. Simpy spiffing.” Not his best work. 
Don lay a hand on Cosmo’s coat sleeve, at the elbow. “Do you want to come to dinner with us?” he said. “It’s meant to be a formal affair but you’ve still got time to change.”
Whenever you’re not here, we wish you were. Obviously, Don didn’t mean “whenever” in the strictest sense—Cosmo got the feeling he was not present in Don’s mind, say, when Don was in bed with his beautiful wife—but the thought now made him feel warmer than the gin had. It would be enough. It had to be.
“Sure,” said Cosmo, “why not,” and Don thumped him encouragingly on the back.
“Cosmo,” said Don as they headed back into the body of the boat, “piracy, really?” Cosmo grinned. “Don’t blame me, blame that salt air. Makes a man feel like anything’s possible.”
.
Kathy and Don looked enchanting at dinner, and Cosmo cleaned up alright too, if he didn’t say so himself.
The food was good—salmon with hollandaise sauce and French beans, braised duckling with apple sauce, some fancy beef thing, salad Dumas and ice cream for dessert—and the band had relaxed a smidge and was playing something from this century, which was nice.
Over dessert, Kathy told them about how, one night several months before meeting Don, she’d been at a speakeasy during what turned out to be a police raid.
“What were you doing in a speakeasy?” Cosmo asked before he could stop to think about it.
“Why, drinking milk and reading Austen, of course,” she replied, a picture of guilelessness. Don snickered, and she grinned.
“I walked full-speed into that one,” said Cosmo.
“Buddy, you ran,” said Don.
“I was drinking,” Kathy acknowledged, nodding, “but really that’s where the best dancing is. The best music, too.”
Cosmo, who lately only drank at parties or at home because it was easier and safer, nodded thoughtfully.
“Hot jazz?”
“The hottest, at least in Los Angeles. Once we’re back, we should all go!”
“I could always stand to take in more culture,” said Cosmo.
“Oh no,” said Don, “don’t let her pull you into her sordid past. Did you forget the end of the story is ‘and then the police came?’”
“That’s more the middle,” said Kathy. “Well, middle-end.”
“So how’d you escape the reaching arm of the law?” Cosmo asked.
Kathy swallowed her ice cream. “I saw the police were all rushing in through the front door, and I dashed to the back and through the performers’ dressing room. I’d done makeup for some of my school plays, so I fought my way up to the mirror, grabbed a grease pencil—a few lines here, a few lines there—borrowed an old coat of the back of a chair, ran maybe half a block, and pretended to be an old lady.”
“Really,” said Cosmo.
“It’s mostly in the walk and the posture,” she said. “And it helps that a few of the street lights were out.”
“And the cops were fooled?”
“One of them asked me if I’d seen any young people running that way,” said Kathy.
Cosmo clapped his hands together with glee. “Don, you married a criminal mastermind! Never make her angry.”
Don wrapped an arm around her shoulders and flashed her a besotted look. “I don’t intend to.”
Kathy nestled into the half-embrace. “Tell me more about—was it Coyoteville? With the ventriloquist.”
“Dead Man’s Fang,” said Cosmo. “And your wish is my command, but I don’t know what else there is to say. We came, we saw, we lost our sleeping arrangements to a puppet.”
“He tucked it in that night, remember?” said Don suddenly.
“He did!” said Cosmo, delighted.
Sometimes when Don started in on the official line about how they’d studied at the conservatory and the rest of that baloney, Cosmo worried that some part of Don believed it, that it was Cosmo’s job alone to remember how long they’d traveled that strange, bumpy, often farcical road together towards some measure of success and respectability in Hollywood. But Cosmo had completely forgotten that particular detail. He had burned it from his mind.
“After he fell asleep, one of you might have moved the dummy and claimed that bed,” Kathy pointed out.
“He left it with the head turned facing us, eyes open,” said Don. “Neither of us were touching that thing.”
“So instead, Cosmo had to put up with Don all night,” said Kathy solemnly.
“So instead, I had to put up with Don all night.”
He could still recall the potent mix of resignation, terror, and guilty excitement he’d felt, huddling up on that mattress together. Their act at the time had involved being in close quarters a lot—at one point, the choreography had Cosmo leap onto Don’s back and then immediately continue playing the fiddle—so it wasn’t like touching Don was a novelty, back then. But doing it offstage, out of costume, away from any onlookers except for Esther Quill the ventriloquist dummy, it had felt like an entirely different proposition. 
Don had been a real champ about it, though. When Cosmo had started shaking with withheld hilarity that this was his life, the punchline of all punchlines and nobody to share it with, not just Don’s best friend but his literal bedwarmer, Don had clearly assumed it was a simple case of the shivers, and so he’d bundled Cosmo close, tucked Cosmo’s head under his chin, and wrapped his arms around him, muttering warm in his ear about how if Cosmo dropped dead, Don was out a dance partner “and that whole routine wouldn’t work as a solo number, it’d go over like a brick.”
“Just imagine what barnyard animal they’d have you opening for then,” Cosmo had whispered back, because Oatmeal, Nebraska had already happened to them. “A pig who juggles. A cow acrobat. A chicken magician. Just a little sleight of wing, folks, nothing up my feathers.”
And Don had laughed, and held Cosmo tighter, and the ventriloquist had shushed them, which had made them both crack up again. It had been a long night, and not one Cosmo would forget in a hurry.
“Who runs hot as a Holland furnace, let me tell you,” he added now, in case his tone had shifted a few shades too close to dreamy.
“Oh, I know,” said Kathy, smiling.
Don raised an accusing finger at him. “Well, you were shaking like a leaf! You’re lucky I was there, especially when we didn’t have so much as a sheet of our own!”
“Wait, why didn’t you have any blankets?” asked Kathy.
“The blankets,” said Don airily, “were for the puppet.”
.
And so dinner had been a joy, and after that, Don and Kathy invited him back to their room for a drink or two, because they’d had the common sense to bring alcohol, which was of course not offered by the cruise. The three of them sat on Don and Kathy’s bed (much bigger than Cosmo’s—not that he was jealous, he didn’t need the space, but the sheer expanse of mattress really did rival a small country, and Cosmo was determined not to picture in any detail how the two newlyweds might make use of that) and passed a flask around and had some more laughs and when Cosmo next got a glimpse of his watch, it was three in the morning.
“I should go,” he said.
“You don’t have to,” said Kathy. She’d shucked off her heels at some point and now her stocking feet were in Cosmo’s lap. Don sat on her other side, head on her shoulder. He’d loosened his tie early on, and his suitcoat was draped over one of the bedposts. While they were drinking, it had all felt very natural. Looking at them now, Cosmo had the sense he was intruding on something private, something intimate.
Granted, they weren’t exactly trying to kick him out, but Kathy was drunk, or tired, or else she was both drunk and tired, and it was up to Cosmo not to outstay his welcome. They had a whole two weeks together, after all, and their rooms were barely a wall apart.
“My regrets, Cinderella,” said Cosmo, “but I can feel myself turning back into a pumpkin.” 
He made as if to stand, but her feet were in the way. Very gently, he picked up her ankles, lifted them off his legs, stood, turned her like they were doing some sort of a dance move, and deposited her feet in Don’s lap instead.
“There,” he said to no one. 
A long pause followed. Don and Kathy blinked up at him. He sorely regretted moving her. It had seemed like the most elegant solution. Probably he should’ve found one that didn’t involve taking hold of her legs, skin warm through the thin layer of nylon–
Kathy’s brow furrowed. “What makes you the carriage?” she said at last.
“What?” said Cosmo, who really did need to make an exit. 
“Cinderella,” said Don, apparently reading her mind, which was swell for them.
“Better that than the mouse footman,” Cosmo told her. “Or the lizard coachman. Or the horse.” Or—who else? There were a lot of characters in Cinderella, he realized.
“There’s a prince in that story, Cosmo,” said Kathy. “A human prince.”
“Yes,” said Cosmo, patiently, “and you’re married to him, your highness,” He sketched a little bow but Don and Kathy weren’t looking at him. They were having one of those silent couple conversations, with mostly their eyes and eyebrows. A career in movies before the advent of sound had probably given Don a real advantage in that department, Cosmo thought, although Kathy seemed to be holding her own.
“It’s a made-up fairytale,” Kathy said at last. “Why, it can go any way you want it to.”
“The lady’s got a point,” said Don.
Cosmo blinked. He knew how it sounded, knew that to the untrained ear, it certainly—there were overtones, or undertones, or just plain tones that vibrated with suggestion. Cosmo had grown up in Vaudeville and now he lived in Hollywood; these things happened every now and then. These things did not happen to Cosmo. He was good for a dance or a laugh, and nine times out of ten, that was enough for him, but he wasn’t exactly fending off amorous advances—not like Don, and probably not like Kathy, either.
Also, Don liked women. Don only liked women, as far as Cosmo knew, and they had lived out of each other’s pockets for years.
The fact that a late-night ménage à trois rendezvous was increasingly the only explanation that held water in his head—it said more about Cosmo’s fragile mental state than it did about Don and Kathy’s true motives, he decided.
Don and Kathy who were still sitting on the bed, waiting for some sort of response.
“I wouldn’t, uh,” Cosmo started, and then realized with a stab of panic that for once, he didn’t have a joke in the wings, waiting to go. “I wouldn’t know where to start,” he said.
“You said earlier today you might become a pirate,” Don offered. Kathy cuddled up close against his side, watching with bright, intent eyes. He wrapped an arm around her waist. “Enter pirate, stage left.”
“I said I was thinking about it,” said Cosmo, trying not to sound affected and missing by a mile. “A fella can think about all kinds of things he wouldn’t do.”
Case in point: Cosmo was not about to climb back into bed with them, no matter how cozy that bed was, no matter how warm and inviting and beautiful the two of them looked together.
His hands were starting to shake, he realized, and if Don saw that, and past experience was any judge, Cosmo might spend the night being cuddled for warmth again. What was Cosmo’s life? He didn’t go in for horoscopes, but maybe he should’ve, maybe that was the key to understanding the whole puzzle: Cosmo Brown, born under the one constellation that resembled clown shoes. He swallowed back a hysterical laugh and stuffed his hands in his pockets.
“Why not?” said Kathy quietly.
Because he didn’t want to ruin his oldest friendship and his most promising new one, all in a single go. Because he hated rejection, and the thought of two no’s that close together made his head spin unpleasantly. Because then there would be no more innocent touches and smiles and nightcaps in Don and Kathy’s room. 
That wasn’t what she’d asked, though. Mentally, he shook himself.
“If everyone who thought about being a pirate became one, the whole US of A would fall apart,” Cosmo informed them. “Nobody would work, or pay taxes, or go to see films. Not to mention the national parrot shortage—just try to get ahold of birdseed anymore! There’d be a run on eyepatches and tri-corner hats, and the price of a simple pirate earring would shoot through the roof, in fact—”
“It’d cost a buccaneer,” Don filled in. He sounded almost sad, which was a mystery because that bit was evergreen.
“That’s right,” said Cosmo. He rocked back onto his heels, at a loss for a moment. He’d really been counting on that joke to clear the air.
“Cosmo,” said Kathy. “Do you want to go, or do you want to want to go?”
Cosmo struggled to make sense of that. He struggled to parse it in a way that worked outside his own feverish imagination. His entire mind came up short. That was where it got you, going on the road with only an eighth grade education, he thought. His was a cautionary tale. 
Maybe ninth grade was where they taught you how not to twist a moment in your head to the point where it really did seem like maybe Cosmo could’ve kissed either of them, could’ve kissed both of them, and it would’ve been fine, or even more than fine. Maybe it was that, and Dickens, and Geography; Cosmo still could not locate Siam on a map. Or Paris. Come to think of it, ménage à trois and rendezvous were the only French he knew besides bonjour. This time, he did laugh. It was that or scream.
“I am both too drunk, and not drunk enough for this talk,” he said, turning for the door that led directly back to his room.
“If you’d rather stay—” said Don.
“Of course I’d rather stay, Don,” Cosmo snapped, sharper than he’d meant to. “But leave me enough dignity to fill half a shotglass, at least.” Don and Kathy said nothing. When he got to the door, he sighed. “Sorry, that was—I’m sorry. See you at breakfast.” “Goodnight,” said Kathy.
Alone in his room, Cosmo closed the door and ran his hands through his hair. Pirates in Cinderella, he thought. Offers to stay, with his room not 30 paces away, at three hours past midnight. Maybe it would all make sense in the morning.
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personasintro · 7 months
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Mutual Help | #18
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𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭: @kithtaehyung
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↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; in order for you to pretend to be his girlfriend, he helps you with your sexual desires ⏤ he calls it mutual help
⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jungkook x reader
⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fake dating au, fluff, angst, smut, slow burn
⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language, mature content
⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7k+
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⇠ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯. | 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ⇢ 
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Leaving your overthinking for the rest of the day has probably been one of the best decisions you've decided to make on this starting trip. You won't let yourself overthink all that stuff, not allowing yourself not to have fun and think through every Jungkook's action. It shouldn't matter if he did it to get Kiko's attention or not. You know her attention is subtly focused on the both of you, no matter how many times she's trying not to stare at you and act nice towards you. Maybe she just feels bad after you stormed at her, and you can't forget the fact that she's hiding something, according to Jungkook's words.
He told you how he wants to enjoy this trip, regardless if Kiko will be here or not. And she is, yet you can see him watching her whenever he thinks nobody sees him.
After all of you had fun at the lake, you let yourselves dry in the burning sun before it got too hot and unbearable, to change into clothes and play some sport games. Namjoon brought a soccer ball, which obviously led to a soccer game. At first, it was a men vs women game, which could never lead to a complete trouble free game. Surprisingly, you weren't bad as a team like you expected you to be. You were doing pretty good actually, to your standards and mutual strength at least. Unfortunately, and quite obviously, men were better and it seemed super easy for them to win.
"That was foul!" Minjae screamed at them, making sure they heard her across the huge soccer field that you made for yourselves.
"No, it wasn't. Seulgi stumbled on her own, Namjoon didn't even touch her." you told her, replaying the memory you just saw a few seconds ago.
"Y/N! You are supposed to be on our team!" Seulgi laughed, shaking her head at Minjae's attempt to save your already bad score.
Shrugging, you just sent them an apology smile. "I'm just honest."
Looking at Jungkook, you saw him sending you a flying kiss with a smirk, his way of thanking you because they just added another goal to their score.
Then you created a new team, a mixed team so all the men could finally play at least some kind of serious game. You, Jungkook, Jimin and Seulgi. The other team was Kiko, Hoseok, Namjoon and Minjae while Taehyung remained as a referee. Your team won, with Jungkook's energy and skills, you barely had to do anything other than to kick him the ball whenever it somehow stumbled in front of your feet. Regardless of that, you were still proud of yourself for winning, even though it was mostly Jungkook and Jimin's merit.
The rest of the day went like this and before you realized it, it was time for dinner while the sky was getting darker with each passing minute.
Now, the sky's completely painted dark with beautiful stars sparkling in the distance with sounds of crickets echoing through the space. Even the sound of fire sizzling and the warmth that spreads on your face because of it, is oddly calming. You take that moment to cuddle up to Jungkook, who's sitting next to you, with his arm over your frame pulling you closer. Stomach full, all you can muster to do is listen to everyone's chattering and laughter that slowly fades in the distance as you let yourself think. Your eyes automatically drift to Kiko, who's sitting obliquely from you, head resting on Hoseok's shoulder as he keeps laughing and nodding along to Namjoon's funny story of how he broke his sister's bathroom door.
"Hey, are you sleepy?" Jungkook asks softly, shoulder slowly nudging the side of your face as you frown.
"Kinda," you sigh, "But not really. I think the fire's making me sleepy." you admit, appreciating the warmth of it warming your face.
Even though it's July, it gets even colder at night than back in Seoul. It makes sense, considering you're surrounded by hills and more located to the South.
"You wanna take a walk?" he asks, your head lifting in interest as you look around.
"But it's dark." you point out, not seeing any lamps, well instead of the flashlights and disposable torches the boys had brought, that surrounds the space around you where you're camping.
"Oh, are you scared?" Jungkook nudges you with his shoulder again, shaking your whole body with the single movement as you roll your eyes. "Don't worry, I'll protect you." he promises, a cocky grin earning its place on his lips.
"I'm not scared, you moron." you tell him, faking annoyance and it still makes him chuckle at your attempt.
"Sure, whatever you say." he muses, teasing you but all you give him in response is another roll of your eyes and grin that can't be hidden anymore.
"Okay, let's go. But if we see or hear anything suspicious, we're coming back." you tell him, pursing your lips while you stare at him sternly, daring him to say something different.
His nose scrunches and he starts to laugh at you, but nods to your words nevertheless. "We'll take our phones with us and light up our flashlights on, you big baby." he says, jumping to his feet as he shakes his head to ruffle through his hair.
Big—big baby? The audacity! 
Standing up, you dust your sweatpants and take Jungkook's hand that he holds up for you to take. 
"We'll be right back. We're gonna just take a walk." Jungkook informs the group, making them nod in response before they barely pay attention to the two of you leaving.
They are too busy chattering while drinking beer and soju. Or at least it seemed like it because as soon as you're in the safe distance of not hearing them, Taehyung turns around and watches you walk further and further away.
"Do you think they're gonna fuck?" he asks, cheeks red from the fire but also from the amount of soju he's already drank.
Jimin cackles, telling him to stop drinking that much although, his own eyes drift to your disappearing bodies. What they don't see is the look on Kiko's face that makes her straighten and take a deep breath. It doesn't go unnoticed by Hoseok and he wraps his arm around her petite frame, pulling her closer as he presses his nose into her hair.
"You okay?" he asks her silently, making sure nobody else listens to him.
She looks at him for a brief second before her eyes focus on the flame of the fireplace Jungkook and you made. It's almost as if it's mocking her straight in the face. "Yeah, I'm sure." she assures her best friend, giving him a weak smile but he's not buying it.
"Kik," he sighs, but she just shakes her head in response.
"I'm fine, Hobi." she tells him and ends the conversation there, but still cuddles to him even more.
When he squeezes her, she feels at least some kind of comfort and is incredibly thankful for her friend. Hoseok knows, yet doesn't pressure her into anything and even if she's acting like nothing's wrong, he begs to differ but doesn't say anything. He shows his support with the stronghold he has on her body, silently telling her that he's there for her.
"What? I'm just wondering!" Taehyung exclaims, shrugging his shoulders innocently and the simple act makes Jimin snort.
"Stop wondering about your friends' sex life." Jimin reasons, hearing a loud snicker coming from Namjoon's mouth this time while Seulgi and Minjae busy themselves with stuffing their mouth and act like they're not listening to the conversation.
"Don't tell me you don't think they're shagging—"
Hoseok cuts him off by throwing an empty cup at him, perfectly aimed at Taehyung's forehead. "Shut up, Tae." he scolds him, but grins nevertheless to ease the tension that his reaction might have caused.
Taehyung frowns, rubbing his forehead as if the empty cup could've really hurt him but he listens. He closes his mouth and starts to bicker with Jimin, when he gives him another lecture about alcohol and his low tolerance.
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"This is healing," you fill the silence with your soft voice, eyes focused on the moon lightening above your heads.
Jungkook follows your vision, humming in response before he looks at the lake that sparkle with the same reflection of the moon. "It really is," he agrees, "It's cold though." he chuckles, hearing you doing the same.
"Yeah, I thought it'd be slightly warmer. I hope we won't be cold while sleeping in tents." you voice out your worries.
"We'll just have to wear a lot of clothes. But if you're gonna be too cold, just tell me. We can sleep in the car." he says, making you smile at his thoughtfulness.
"How are we gonna fit there?" you chuckle, not being able to imagine the two of you trying to fit in the back of his car, even though his current car is bigger than the one he used to have. Or you could just sleep in front, but you surely won't get any quality sleep there.
"Then I'll sleep in the tent and you can sleep in the car." he shrugs, your mouth pouting automatically at his words.
You'd feel awful and guilty for sure if that happened. Sure, Jungkook is a big boy and probably doesn't get cold that easily, compared to you, but still.
"Jungkook, no." you shake your head.
"Or, we could just cuddle and keep ourselves warm." he pokes you in the ribs, causing you to giggle as you slap his shoulder.
Or, that's an option too.
"How are you feeling?" you ask, nibbling on your bottom lip when you're met with silence and Jungkook's steps halting until he stops.
"What do you mean?" he asks, brows furrowed in confusion.
Stopping too, you walk closer to him and lean against one of the trees that are near the edge of the lake. "Kiko's here." you point out, causing him to chuckle while he hides his hands into the pockets of his cargo pants.
"I'm aware," he laughs lightly, and you do the same because it's nice to see him not depressing over her. "I really wanna enjoy this trip, but I can't help but notice how close she seems to be with Hoseok."
And then you see it. Frown settles on his lips at the mention of Hoseok. Of course, he noticed how close they were and probably still are at the fireplace.
"They're best friends, Kook. You don't think they're dating, do you?" you cock your head to the side, a breeze slightly ruffling your hair.
"No," he shakes his head, frowning once again. "I don't know, something feels shady. They're definitely hiding something, I just have no fucking idea what it is."
The memory of Jungkook telling you about the possible secret that Kiko's hiding crosses your mind, but you're just as clueless as Jungkook is right now. You don't know them that much, but Jungkook does.
"What could she possibly be hiding from you?" you think out loud, thinking about all the possible scenarios that could've happened.
"Whenever I see her looking at me, or even when we were talking at Jin's wedding... I could see how guilty she looked," he says, deeply in thought. "I know her so well, I just know there's something more to this and Hoseok basically confirming that at Jin's wedding just proves my suspicion."
"Well, either way, she's not gonna tell you and neither will Hoseok. How are you planning to find out?" you ask, growing confused.
There's nothing he can do. The only thing is to get your little plan to keep going and finish it before some damage will be done. Surprisingly, playing Jungkook's girlfriend isn't hard so far. The two of you have always been more touchy and comfortable around each other, so none of this feels uncomfortable or foreign to you or Jungkook. Obviously, it all faded away and even stopped when he started to date Kiko which you understand. It was out of respect to her, even though she probably never voiced jealousy. That's what kind of gentleman Jungkook is.
"The only thing I can think about, considering her weird and suspicious behavior, and the fact she seems so fucking guilty about something... what if she cheated on me?" he says quickly, his brain processing his own words while he seems to be stunned he finally voiced out his suspicion. It makes it more real and now that he said it out loud, it makes much more sense.
But even to you, it doesn't make much sense. "You think she'd cheat on you?" you ask confusingly, knowing how Jungkook swore that she's the least selfish person he ever met.
"Argh! I don't know!" he exclaims, covering his face into his huge hands as he groans into them.
Sadness overcomes your features and your body moves on its own, hugging Jungkook's muscular body while you cuddle your face into his chest. His hoodie smells just like him, his favorite fabric softener and that sweet, yet muscular scent he always holds. Sighing, he hugs you closer to him.
"I don't think she'd, but what am I supposed to think?" he asks, voice muffled by your hair as he kisses the top of your head.
"She loves you, Kook. I don't think she cheated on you." you tell him, but he just shakes his head.
"We don't know that." he disagrees, causing you to chuckle as you slightly pull away and look up at him.
Your noses are almost touching from the proximity between you two.
"We don't, but I can see the way she's looking at you. She's trying to be so nice to me," you let out a dry chuckle, causing Jungkook to do the same thing, however his one isn't dry but almost loving at the mention of his ex.
"That's her." he adds, and you fight the urge to roll your eyes.
"But I just see the sadness in her eyes. I might not know her that well, but even I can tell. She doesn't seem jealous..." you trail off, looking back into his dark orbs that shine underneath the moonlight.
"You'll tell me when this gets too much for you, right?" he asks, your brows furrowing in confusion as you stare at him.
"Of course, that's what we agreed on." you remind him, surprised he brought up that topic.
He nods, bringing his back to your face as he gently grabs it and starts caressing the apples of your cheeks. Your eyes flicker shut, enjoying how soft his hands feel against your skin and you happily hum, making him chuckle but not stopping him. Nudging your nose with his own, you whine at his hot breath fanning your face.
"Kiss me, Kook." you whisper, having this sudden need to feel those plushy lips again.
You haven't kissed since you came here, which is quite surprising because you thought you'd, at least as soon as you saw that Kiko's here too. But for some reason Jungkook never insinuated a kiss.
But he listens to you now, kissing you by quickly connecting your lips as he holds your face even tighter. It feels needy and it strokes your ego that he kisses you almost as if he missed your lips. Well, you certainly missed his ones. 
The moan slips out of your mouth as soon as the kiss gets rougher and he slowly backs you, until your back meets the tree again. His hands are everywhere, from gripping your hips to pulling up your leg and hooking it up over his hip to properly feel your thigh, all while he's still kissing you. Your own hands are occupied by nails digging into his hoodie before they trail down to his ass, giving him a squeeze. He smiles into the kiss, but still doesn't pull away. You're gasping for air, causing him to detach your lips but his own starts to work on your neck where he ducks your skin. You're moaning, head leaned against the tree while the wood is too harsh and uncomfortable, but you don't dare to move. Excitement overtakes you're whole body and with your leg that he's still gripping tightly, hooked over Jungkook's hip, you grind onto him. He groans, grinding back where you can feel his bulge. Through the countless amount of layers, you can't feel him the way your body craves to, but it's still enough to make you clench around nothing as you feel yourself getting aroused.
You grind against each other, desperately trying to get ahold of that pleasure and lust that clouds your minds and bodies, but the clothing you're both wearing and position makes it hard. It's not enough, unless the two of you would undress which isn't such a smart idea considering the weather. As if Jungkook thinks the same thing, he stops grinding against you and rests his head on your shoulder while his chest heaves with quick breaths. You're no different, long and loud breaths leave your mouth as you wrap your arms around his frame. Slowly, he lets go of your leg and steadies himself more before he fully straightens himself and grins at you.
"That's not what I was expecting when I asked you for a walk," he jokes, a loud snort coming out of your mouth as you shake your head at him.
It's always like that. You never planned for this to happen, it always just does. Naturally, and you like that because it doesn't feel forced.
"I wasn't expecting it too, but I'm not complaining." you grin, hands brushing through his fringe that got too long and keeps falling into his eyes.
"Trust me," he says, grin disappearing as a darkened look overtakes his already doe and dark eyes. He hovers over you, teeth nibbling on your ear before his mouth brushes your earlobe. "I'd fuck you here, if it weren't this cold."
Your breath hitches in your throat and you restrain yourself from reacting audibly, knowing he'll love that and tease the shit out of you later. You can't believe he just said that. Would he really do that?
"I wouldn't let you," you mutter, mustering a serious and tough expression where you raise your brow and purse your lips to prove your point. "Someone might've seen us." you reason, but the only thing he gives you in return is a loud laugh that makes you shush him straight away, a huge grin spreading on your lips.
"Who? There's nobody here." he says, outstretching his arms like he's the one who's proving his point.
"You don't know that, it's too dark to tell." you shrug, giving his chest a good slap when he smirks at you.
"Exactly, it wouldn't be too hard to tell if we're fucking or not."
"Oh my god!" you exclaim, hearing him cackling. "Just shut up, Jeon." you shake your head at him, hiding that huge grin again from him by walking past him and getting some safe distance from his dangerous and irresistible self.
"Oh, am I Jeon now? Thought I was Kook."
You hear him teasing you, before he jogs over to you and places his arm over your shoulders as he pushes you closer to his chest. You don't protest, not when he's incredibly warm and comfortable at the same time.
"Thank God, you're not my real boyfriend. I couldn't stand you." you grumble, teasing him as you poke his hip before you wrap your arm around his frame, holding him.
"Ah, you wish. I'd be the best boyfriend." he shoots back, making the two of you burst in laughter as you keep bickering and teasing each other for the rest of the walk back.
It just reminds you that nothing has changed. Well, apart from you get to kiss him— amongst the other stuff — now.
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When you get back, you give Jungkook a last nudge to his shoulder before you detach yourself from his hip, looking at your friends. Taehyung wiggles his brows, cheeks flushed even in the darkness and you don't have to guess what caused it, considering the stupid amused grin he always has whenever he drinks too much alcohol. You're not the only one who notices it, Jimin tells him something but his best friend just shushes him and waves a hand in front of his face, telling him to shut up.
"You guys done?" he asks, wiggling his brows while staring at you before his eyes averts to Jungkook.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Jungkook asks, confused, reaching for some dried seaweed as he munches on it.
"Ignore him, he's had enough." Jimin speaks up before Taehyung can open his mouth, frowning at his best friend's interruption.
"Where's everyone?" you ask, changing the topic since you've got an idea what Taehyung was aiming at. Whatever it could be, it's not something that should be said in front of Kiko, or anyone at this point.
The seats where Hoseok, Seulgi, Minjae and Namjoon were sitting are empty, and now that you pointed out their absence, Jungkook seems to notice their missing too as he starts looking around.
"They went to sleep," Kiko answers, cuddling herself to some fluffy blanket as she glances at you before she focuses on the flames instead. "I think I'm going too. Tomorrow is gonna be a long day." she says, letting out a chuckle but it seems forced and tired.
She stands up, still wrapped in the purple blanket as she bids everyone a goodnight before she goes into her tent, joining Seulgi and Minjae.
"Is she okay?" Jungkook whispers, glancing at Jimin who gives him a saddened gaze before he shrugs.
"She seems a little bit off, but I think it's just awkward for her to be here with you guys." Jimin explains, his voice silenced so everyone sleeping in the tents nearby can't hear you. He gives you an apologetic look which you just shrug off, knowing he's only telling the truth.
"She knew we were coming here, I suppose." you mutter, ignoring Jungkook's side glance before he sighs and grabs you by your shoulders.
"Well, we're going to sleep too. You guys, don't set anything on fire." he tells them, Taehyung already spacing out but still protests whenever Jimin tells him to go sleep.
It's clear Jimin doesn't want to leave him alone, something that wouldn't be a good idea in Taehyung's state. It's funny and cute how they remind you of your friendship with Jungkook. They have each other's back all the time.
"We'll try to," Jimin chuckles, patting Taehyung's head as he cuddles to Jimin's side. "Goodnight."
Approximately twenty minutes later, when you bid goodbye to Jimin and Taehyung, you and Jungkook are happily nestled in your sleeping bags. With a few layers of blankets that Jungkook brought underneath your bodies, it's softer than you expected it to be and you find it comfortable. The only thing that bothers you is the chilly air that makes you toss around as you're trying to keep yourself warm.
"Come here." Jungkook sighs, his own sleeping bag rustling as he pulls out his arms to pull you closer.
"What are you doing?" you mutter, silently humming as soon as you feel his warm chest pressed against your back. You're definitely warmer now.
"Cuddling you, obviously." he snorts, nuzzling his nose into your neck causing you to let out a silenced giggle.
With his large hoodie already on, the very one he brought you from his car as soon as you started to complain about the weather and being cold, you allow yourself to relax. However, Jungkook doesn't stop there and he starts kissing your neck, leaving soft and innocent pecks that make you bite your lip. You don't move, allowing him to kiss you some more while he rubs your body which is difficult to feel, since you're wrapped in your sleeping bag. Unzipping your sleeping bag, you ignore your body protesting by shivering from the temperature in your tent.
"You're gonna be cold." Jungkook murmurs against your neck, his silenced and raspy voice causing you to shiver again. Not from the cold this time.
"You'll warm me up." you tease, turning to your side so you can be closer to him.
He welcomes your hands on his chest as they get underneath his hoodie, feeling his hot and naked skin there. How can he be so warm when you're close to freezing? His toned abs are hard to miss and you wish you could just take his hoodie off, and see the piece of art. You've never been totally mesmerized by abs and muscular bodies, although it's a nice thing to look at. But everything changes when it comes to Jungkook. He's perfect, an amazing piece of man that makes every woman's heart flutter.
"You bet." he teases back, causing you to giggle as he pulls you closer, kissing you this time.
Your lips mold together, the feeling already familiar but never boring. It's something you could never get enough of, especially when he's so good at it. Two minutes of constant kissing and innocent touches, his own hands disappear underneath all the layers of your clothing when he finally finds your skin. Even the littlest touch of his fingertips make your body heat up, and you completely forget about the cold. He spends a few minutes just rubbing your stomach, his touch leaving soft and tingling sensation all over your body, before he hooks them under the hem of your sweatpants. Detaching your lips, you breathe out a shaky breath as you glance at Jungkook.
He's staring at you, dark eyes boring into yours while his hands disappear into your panties.
"Kook," you breathe out, "Guys are here."
And Seulgi, Minjae and Kiko too.
"They're all sleeping," he says, finger circling your clit as you bite into your lower lip to prevent yourself from moaning. "I checked when I went to take a piss."
Snorting, you let out a chuckle of disbelief. "Wow, that's so hot. Thank you." you tell him sarcastically, your words dying down when he starts to part your folds and slips one finger in.
"I'm honest," he tells you lightly, shrugging as if he's not fingering you right now. He pumps his finger, nuzzling his face to your neck as he starts sucking your skin there. "You love when I'm honest."
"Mhm," you moan, back slightly arching when his finger rubs against your sensitive spot.
"You love when I do this," he purrs against your skin, adding another finger as he curls them inside your tight hole that makes you whimper.
Goosebumps appear all over your body, your hips slowly grinding against his palm as he keeps pumping his fingers in and out. The sound of your wetness is muffled by your clothes, but it's still clear to your ears. It should be embarrassing how wet and hot you became just for him. Yes, the little make out that happened on your walk helped, but you both know it doesn't take a long for him to make you crave for his touch, pleading him for more.
"I do," you let out a choked moan, eyes rolling back when he adds another finger, penetrating your heat even more.
Your walls are wrapped around his fingers, swallowing them in with so much eagerness that makes Jungkook proud.
"You're so needy," he growls, grazing his teeth against your jaw before he kisses it. Your hands clutch onto your sleeping bag desperately, all while he lets out a dark chuckle. "So needy for my touch, for me."
You should be embarrassed because he's right. You tend to act tough, not necessarily in these kinds of scenarios, but still. Even Jungkook knows that and whenever he can stomp on the confidence and tease you, he takes the chance and does it. However, you don't feel an ounce of embarrassment. Agreeing with him, you nod and purr at the same time, body desperately meeting his hands as he picks up the pace.
"I am," you agree, voice strained as you try to control yourself. It feels good, so fucking good, but you don't want to cum just yet. You want to enjoy this for as long as it's possible.
"Oh, baby. You know all you gotta do is tell me and I'll give you everything you want," Jungkook feigns sorrow, knowing those words drive you crazy. He feels you clenching around him, your moans silenced by you biting a lower lip, and that's all he needs to be smirking. "I'd have fuck you against that tree, if you weren't scared someone might see." he whispers darkly into your ear, biting onto your earlobe.
It all happens quick, too quick for you to control it or cherish the way pleasure shoots through your whole body, while you're cumming. Your moans in the form of Jungkook's name are silenced by his mouth enveloping yours. As much as he wants to hear you, his name leaving your mouth repeatedly, he can't let anyone else hear you.
He fucks you through your orgasm, stopping when he hears you whimper from overstimulation. Pulling out his fingers, he puts them into his mouth and makes sure you're watching him when he does that. Your heat throbs, both at the sight and the euphoric feeling of your orgasm, yet you don't have enough. Especially not when you see him licking his fingers clean before he kisses you, letting you taste yourself on his tongue and lips. He growls, hovering over you while his tongue attacks the inside of your mouth. Your tongues dance together, moving swiftly like it's the easiest thing to do. Hands disappearing under his hoodie, you let yourself feel his naked back moving forward to his abs.
He can't help it, you're too irresistible even if it's in a freaking tent and in the middle of mountains with his friends sleeping nearby. Maybe even that small fact makes him go feral, grinding his crotch against you. Getting out of your sleeping bag has never been easier, your hands busy trying to take off Jungkook's sweatpants while he takes off his hoodie, along with his shirt.
"Fuck, I need you." he says, before he kisses you again and helps you to take off your shirt. He's met with your exposed breasts, licking his bottom lip at your puckered nipples which he wraps his mouth around.
The sensation is amazing, his warm mouth warming your whole body all over again and just like that, you feel that same need to fill your pleasure needs. Jungkook's movements are eager, so eager that he tosses his sweatpants rather carelessly causing the piece of clothing to bump into the tent's walls. The tent shakes, causing you to giggle as he shushes you by his lips, chuckling into the kiss. He helps you to undress, making sure he heats up your body with his feverish kisses and constant rubbing of your exposed skin.
"Fuck me, Kook." you plead, nails grazing his exposed and muscular back he's flexing while he's hovering over you.
"Oh, I will," he promises, leaning down to kiss your collarbones as he makes up your neck and jaw. "But you need to be quiet, yeah?"
His voice is low, sending another set of shivers down your spine as you gulp, pressing your thighs together.
"I thought everyone's sleeping." you mutter, teasing him with eyes but you don't show it on your face, too focused on him to even lift the corner of your mouth in a smirk.
"They are," he nods, hands disappearing between your bodies as he spreads your legs and cups your heat which is still wet with your cum and another arousal. You're soaking wet, you can feel it slowly trailing down your ass and staining the unzipped sleeping bag underneath you. "But we don't wanna wake them up." he smirks, his eyes dancing in amusement almost as he's teasing you for being loud.
Oh, he certainly is. As soon as realization hits your face, he smirks even more while pulling away. Your eyes drop to his covered crotch, noticing an evident bulge that's growing with each passing minute. Unfortunately, your sight is dismissed when Jungkook starts to rummage through his bag that he put in the corner of your tent. He pulls out his wallet before he successfully gets the condom. When he turns around and meets your gaze, he sees your raised brow.
"You brought condoms?" you question, wondering if he planned on having sex here.
You sure didn't, not that you're complaining. But you're curious and you love to tease him whenever you get the chance. His doe eyes that were darkened just a few moments ago are completely switched to a wide eyed Jungkook, making look so innocent and young that it makes your heart jump.
"Well, not purposely. I always have them in my wallet." he explains, voice sounding soft all of a sudden.
His lips are set into a slight pout as he stares at you, looking wary for some reason. Little do you know it's because of the exact thing you're teasing him about. He worries that he just planned on having sex, even though there wouldn't be anything wrong with that. You both agreed on this, you two fucking. But still, it doesn't sit well with him knowing you might think he planned this. You're a beautiful woman, it doesn't take long for him to resist you. But you're his best friend before you're someone who he has sex with. He really wanted this trip to be about adventure and great memories, and he kind of let it go naturally. Whatever feels comfortable for you and everyone else. He definitely didn't expect Kiko to show up here, even though this exact topic occurred his night thoughts that made him wide awake for the most of the night.
"It's okay, Kook," you giggle, sitting up as you reach for him. "I'm just teasing you." you assure him, seeing his tensed muscles relax before he scoffs.
"Screw you." he murmurs, grinning as he opens the wrapper by opening it with his teeth while his other hand is too busy pulling his length out.
Taking off his boxers, your mouth salivate wishing you could see him instead of being met with his outline. Judging by the way his hands move and body rustles against the blankets, you know he's giving himself a few pumps before he puts the condom on.
"You're about to." you fill the silence, smirk audible in your voice as he chuckles and gets closer to you.
Adjusting your positions, so he's nestled between your legs, he gives you a kiss and lets his mouth stay on yours while he slowly fills you up. You know it's his way of shushing you, knowing you'd most likely whimper at the sudden stretch of his hardened length. The both of you are trying not to get caught after all. When he's all in, he detaches your lips as he leans his forehead against yours waiting for your signal. As soon as he registers the small nod and little 'go on', he pulls out slowly before he smashes in his way back. With each thrust he makes, the harder it gets to control your moans and even though you've never been that awfully loud, no matter how many times Jungkook teases you about it.
Your legs starts to hurt from the missionary position and with a quick squeeze of his bicep, Jungkook slows down and questionably tilts his head. Without saying a word, your palms sprawl against his chest as you push him while sitting up. He gets the message, laying down immediately while he slips out of you in the process. Hovering over him, you let your legs to rest against his side while you grab his length. Pumping him, you wish you could see that lustful glint in his eyes and the vulnerability that he doesn't show that often:
"Baby," he moans, hands gripping your hips.
Chuckling, you position him against your entrance before you sink down onto him, your eyes rolling back at the pleasure and stretch.
"Fuck, so tight." he groans, nails digging into your skin the entire time he fills you up. He doesn't stop even when you start to ride him, setting up a slower pace that makes less sounds. Nevertheless, the sound of your thighs meeting Jungkook's can't be manageable and it's clear to your ears.
With Jungkook's help, he starts to roll his hips into yours as he meets your thrusts, sending another wave of pleasure through your body with different intensity. It feels amazing, his length so deep inside of you, all while he keeps hitting your g-spot. Slowing down, you circle your hips as you kiss him. You really want to savor every minute and feeling he makes you feel, you don't want to cum just yet. Jungkook is in no rush, kissing you back slowly as he lets you take control. He lays there, enjoying the way you move your hips. After kissing for a few minutes, you start to pick up your pace which becomes tougher, considering how long you've been in this position. Your thighs already ache from the stretch, but thanks to Jungkook who notices your struggle, he starts to meet your thrusts like he's done before.
Everything is slow, yet sensual and intense. It makes your head spin and your heart swell with foreign and wonderful feeling. You can't go all wild, knowing there's everyone just a few meters away from you while you're surrounded in complete silence. But even without this little fact, it still feels right. Maybe it's because you're both lazy and sleepy, just wanting to enjoy the pleasure and something different. If you knew better, you'd say this is how making love feels like.
You almost slap yourself at that, knowing you're nowhere emotionally near that. But it feels nice to have him this close, it's different from the sex you had before.
Considering you've had an orgasm and your walls are still sensitive, you feel yourself tightening as your arms fail you and you fall onto Jungkook's chest. He takes over, still laying underneath you as he grabs your hips and starts to pick up the pace. Even from his submissive position, you may say, he's able to take control and hit all the right spots within your walls. Hands gripping your ass, he spreads your ass cheeks while his nails dig into your skin again. It's the first time tonight when it feels, what can be considered, as a rough move.
"Kook," you whimper, mouth pressed against his shoulder with eyes screwed shut, as you feel another orgasm approaching you.
"Shhh," he reminds you, letting out a grunt when he sets an almost animalistic pace. His balls smack against your ass, the sound already too loud to be heard outside, but you don't stop.
Pleasure washes you all over again, your mouth ready to leave the loudest moan as your whole body shakes. What you do comes naturally, in the desperation to silence your moans, and you gently bite onto Jungkook's shoulder while he keeps fucking you.
He grunts, your teeth digging into his skin although, it's nothing unbearable or too painful, but it shocks him. Few more pumps and he's coming into the condom with a silenced growl. His thrusts get sloppier with each second, before he completely stops and his length starts to twitch. You wish you could feel him cumming inside of you, despite the littlest feeling of him filling the condom, it's nothing too recognizable. When he's done, he sighs and drops his head down while he hugs you closer to him. His arms leave your ass and they wrap around your frame, gripping you tightly making you giggle.
"Fuck, that was amazing." you comment, pecking his shoulder where you bit him. It's too dark to see if there's any mark, but you hope not. You made sure you weren't biting him too hard.
"Yeah," he breathes, chest heaving with harsh breaths while his length starts to soften. "That was... different." he chuckles, hands gently caressing your back that makes you hum.
"I could fall asleep like this." you murmur against his neck, cuddling to him even more.
A soft chuckle leaves his mouth, his hand gently slapping your ass. "No, you can't sleep now. You gotta pee and put some clothes on, you're gonna get cold like this."
He's right, now that your lust has been fulfilled, you can already feel the real temperature in the tent. Your skin is no longer hot and that same rush of heat that came with each moment of pleasure is gone. Even though your body still tingles from the intense orgasm, it's just not enough to keep you warm anymore.
"Nooo," you whine, cuddling to him even more while your perked nipples rub against his chest. He bites his lower lip, cringing when his length slips out of you and you whine again. "Can't you just cover our bodies?"
You try, knowing you're just teasing him and you'll be shivering any minute. Jungkook groans at your stubbornness and you smile.
"No, now come on. Go pee." he slaps your ass again, making you jerk as you pull yourself up and stare at him.
"What if something's out there?" you ask, simply out of curiosity and maybe out of fear as well.
"I'm going with you, big baby," he grins, rolling his eyes at you that you can't see. He's sitting up, hoisting your bodies in the process. "But we need to put some clothes on."
Sighing, you put your clothes back on, cringing when your juices meet the material of your panties. Regardless of that, you fully dress yourself and let out a hum of content when you're warm again. Jungkook does the same thing, disposing himself of the condom full of his cum as he makes sure he'll throw it somewhere safe. You're both stumbling out of your tent, seeing there's no one awake and there's complete darkness around you. Good.
But still, when Jungkook lights up the flashlight on his phone, you're both grinning at yourselves and you just know, you're going to be sleeping heavenly tonight.
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