#we even have a fucking laundry chute i was like What's this hole in the wall .... ?

[stabbingandorbeingstabbed]

i went to tour a floor plan like the one we're moving into in a month today and i like CANNOT believe i get to live there like the finished basement complete with bar mini fridge and in-unit washer and dryer is big enough to be it's own studio apartment and that's not even taking into account the first floor and our bedrooms upstairs it's like if an apartment was a smallish house connected to 4 other smallish houses

#it's 2700 sq foot my friends are genuinely considering getting a pool table for the basement #EXTREMELY high vaulted ceiling a fireplace a little patio and even littler balcony like comically tiny #but big enough for me to sit and have a morning cig and coffee ☕️ #AND I HAVE A LITTLE WINDOW SEAT CUBBYHOLE THING like this is so crazy fucked up #it's also like all brand new appliances it's a new renovation everything is New #we even have a fucking laundry chute i was like What's this hole in the wall .... ? #i'm so excited and so happy i know i'm gonna NEED the next month to get my shit together enough to make the move #pack my belongings etc #but i wish we could start NOW like holy shit #actually seeing it has made it sooo more real like it's for real happening

[hoodoo12]

Beetlejuice Squared 2:  You Asked For It (1/3)

Yinz are thirsty for this and I absolutely love it. As requested, this features the same characters from Beetlejuice Squared (read here), heavy on the Blumjuice.  Also, just to remind, this one will feature your (you, the audience’s) choice of ending. I’ll provide more details to that when we get closer to it. Word count is ~7000, not including the endings.  (Much and many thanks to @beejiesbitch! Reading through this, catching my typos, making suggestions that in turn made me cackle: every second you helped was much appreciated! 💖) @beetlebitchywitch @beetlejuicebeadoll @sapphic-florals @turtlepated @realmonsterboyhours @monsterlovinghours @witchyrem-ains @beebeyjuice NSFW. Beetlejuice/f!reader. Adult language and hardcore, heavy smut. Enjoy!

You wiped your eyes and nose. You were so sick of crying! At first you couldn’t stop because you felt like you were in the bottom of a hole, where it was dark, and sadness crushed you. But recently, something shifted inside you. Sadness was still there, the pathetic animal that it was, but a new beast reared its head. You were so angry about crying this much!

You didn’t need to feel sorry for yourself! It wasn’t your fault! It was his. You shouldn’t be crying over him. You weren’t crying over him any more! Besides, you didn’t need him. He left, but you didn’t need to be alone. As a matter of fact--

With a shake, you pushed yourself off your bed. You stripped the dirty sheets that you’d been crying into for so long, that still held a faint whiff of him. Earlier you hadn’t wanted to change them so you could still pretend that he was still around, but now? Fuck it. You balled up the sheets tightly, took great pleasure in punching them for a second, and dropped them down the laundry chute imagining the entire time it was him. After the bed was tidied with fresh sheets you cleaned yourself, using so much hot water you were surprised it didn’t run out. Leisurely you blew dry your hair. You went through your closet and scrutinized each bit of lingerie you owned, before settling on a black bra and panty set with white lace trim, a matching garter belt, and some black and white striped stockings. Over all that, you slipped into a black dress designed for clubbing and applied some light makeup. Finally looking presentable and feeling human again, you smiled to yourself. You didn’t need him. With your mouth still stretched into a grin, you called, “Bheteljuz, Bheteljuz, Bheteljuz!”

⁂ ⁂ ⁂ 

With the same flash that had burnt out your retinas before, he appeared in front of you. “Oh my god! Babydoll!” he exclaimed, excitement lilting his voice and lighting his face.

He held his arms out for a hug and you stepped into him, wrapping your arms where they were comfortable, around his waist, pressing your cheek against the tie on his chest. Beetlejuice 2.0--not that you would ever say that nickname aloud--hugged you tightly back, resting the side of his chin on your head. “Hi Beej,” you muttered into his shirt.

After standing in the embrace for an amount of time that would’ve been awkward if you both hadn’t already been naked together, it naturally paused. Not moving away, you looked up at him, dislodging his chin. “I’m glad you came.” “Of course I came, babydoll! You whistle and I come running! My name from your lips--it just makes me gooey on the inside and I can’t get here fast enough,” he said with a wink, then glanced up and around the room. “Where’s the short asshole version of me?” You wiggled your arm out from under his to take his jaw so he’d look down at you again. “He’s not here,” you said, and were pretty damn proud this time tears didn’t fill your eyes. “And he’s not coming back. His is an asshole, and after I found out--” You cut yourself off before explaining more by pinching your lips together; the wound was still fresh. “--doesn’t matter,” you finished instead, with a shrug. “I told him to fuck off and kicked him out, and decided I’d rather get to know you better.”

Beetlejuice’s eyes were bright. “Am I a rebound for you, babydoll? Is this rebound sex? Are you getting back at him? Because--” Immediately you protested, no, no it wasn’t, you hadn’t stopped thinking about him since the last time, you really did want to get to know him better, it didn’t have anything to do with him, he wasn’t coming back--

Beetlejuice leaned down and put his mouth right next to your ear as you babbled.

“--because I’m totally cool with that,” he finished in a husky whisper. He pulled back enough that you could see the smirk on his face, and then his mouth covered yours and his tongue was between your lips.  

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

There was desire and glee in that kiss, all flavored with a base note of desperation. This Beetlejuice took great pleasure in keeping you held tightly against him. You didn’t fight him on it; you’d missed the taste of him, and he was taller, so it was like something new but familiar at the same time.

This time, however, not being stoned made everything sharper. You’d never noticed his teeth were just a smidge less pointed as he nipped greedily at your neck, or his hands so much larger as they roamed your body. You were steadier on your feet, too, so standing tip toe wasn’t as taxing as it’d been before. Your hands returned the favor over his body, petting from shoulders to lower back to ass to crotch, squeezing him and groaning in anticipation.

It was obvious what you’d wanted, so he didn’t hesitate to flick away your scrap of a dress. His eyes widened at what you’d chosen to wear underneath, however. “You dressed up for me, babydoll?” he murmured, his black-nailed fingers following the edge of your garter belt, around your hip to where it hugged you at the small of your back.

“I wanted to look nice,” you agreed. “Something special.”

Beetlejuice smirked again, muttering something about how even that much clothing was going to get in the way. You grabbed him by the tie and yanked him downward, kissing his open mouth as he gasped. Then you took him by the hand and led him to the bedroom.

Once there, when you turned around again, you couldn’t help but laugh in surprise: he’d shed his suit without your knowledge and was wearing only striped boxer briefs. “Something special,” he announced, gesturing theatrically to himself.

You had to agree with his earlier assessment that even that one piece of clothing was too much.

Falling onto the bed, you ravished him.

You spent an inordinate amount of time sucking and playing with his nipples. You discovered you could just barely fit the tip of your tongue under the ouroboros shields and strum them lightly. Beetlejuice mewled with each tug on them and occasionally, when you took a larger chunk of his flesh around his nipple between your teeth but still continued to flick at his piercings, he grabbed the back of your head and held you in place, crying out more loudly.

When you finally left off his chest, both nipples were deeply colored, stiff, and shiny from spit. Your chin on his sternum, you grinned up at him before continuing down his belly.

You left a wide path of wet suction marks though the hair on his abdomen, winding your way down to his groin with no set pattern. Like the time before, he seemed a little sensitive, like this attention was just shy of being overwhelming. You could feel the tension in his thighs as you settled further between his legs.

There was a damp patch on his underwear and his erection strained the fabric. You stroked him through the barrier of his underwear for a second, before looking back up at him. Beetlejuice watched you with dark, lust-blown eyes. He’d hiked himself up on his elbows for a better view. “What’ll it be, Beej? Mouth or tits?” you asked him, although you didn’t exactly give him a fair chance to answer when you mouthed his shaft through the fabric.

He jerked a little at such a minor touch, and reached down to brush some of your hair out of your face. He followed that gesture with cupping your jaw, so you couldn’t drop your head to tease him again. “If I say both is that going to make me sound too much like a slut?” he asked in return.

You laughed and replied, “Not at all. I like that you know what you want,” and stripped him of his underwear before he could just snap it away. He returned the favor by making your bra disappear. You settled back between his thighs. His cock rested stiffly against his belly. A small bead of pre-come was already re-forming at the tip, and the line of hair that led from his belly button to his groin had taken on a decidedly pink hue. After taking all that in, you glanced up at him to find him still watching you with bated breath. His tongue touched the corner of his lip, but he was frozen besides that.

Keeping eye contact with him, you raised an eyebrow to him and smirked, then dipped your head and dragged your tongue up the underside of his cock. He gave a breathy, almost silent moan. When you reached the head, you lapped the pre-come from the slit delicately. He repeated the sound. Then, still watching him watch you, you opened your mouth, licked your lips, and swallowed him.

Because his cock was dry, you didn’t make it all the way to the base, but Beetlejuice didn’t restrain himself and jerked, driving it to your throat. As he was slightly lengthier than him, the Beetlejuice you’d kicked out of your life, it made you retch just a little before you could control the reaction.

When you had yourself under control, you glanced up at him but didn’t wipe the tears that had come to your eyes away. “Sorry not sorry, babydoll,” Beetlejuice told you. You rolled your eyes and sucked him, hard, as a response. He jerked again, involuntarily, but you were ready for it this time and chuckled around his cock.

Then you blew him in earnest, sucking and licking and occasionally keeping him so deep in your throat that your nose was crushed into his now vibrantly pink pubic hair. You liked holding him there until you had to pull off with a gasp because your lungs demanded air. You stroked him by hand too, for variety; holding the base of his cock while your mouth worked the head, twisting and pulling when you gave your jaw a break. In short order, his entire groin was dripping with spit. The lower part of your face was too. Through it all, Beetlejuice groaned and gasped. He trembled and once, when you glanced up, you saw that he didn’t know what to do with his hands: they clenched the air, then his outer thighs. With your free hand you grabbed one of his and directed it to the back of your head. Immediately his fingers tightened in your hair, pulling it a little. You gave him an appreciative little groan to encourage him more, and he took the hint. He pulled and released, and you followed his non-verbal directions, moving up and down his cock in time with his hand, at the pace he dictated. When his fingers became too tight and his hand immobile during another deep moment and his moans ratcheted upward, you fought against his quickly approaching, inevitable end by shaking your head minutely to dislodge his grip and dragging your mouth off him. A thin string of saliva bridged between his cock and your lower lip.

Beetlejuice cried out at the sudden lack of stimulation and opened his eyes, staring at you for a moment in a mixture of disbelief and relief.

“Shit, babydoll, your mouth is fucking amazing--” he started to say, but you didn’t give him much time recover. You hiked yourself up to kneel over him, pushed his cock between the valley of your tits, and rocked to fuck him that way too.

There was so much wetness on his cock it lubed your skin. He curled a little, at his core, and grabbed you over your own hands, pinching them and your skin too hard, crying out as his cock plowed between your tits. Looking up at him you saw his hair was deep magenta, his eyes screwed shut and his mouth open; his moan undulated as pleasure wracked him. You dropped your chin to swirl your tongue around the head of his cock and he stilled abruptly--

--with no warning you threw yourself backwards away from him. His moan choked into almost a sob as once again he was left hanging on the cusp of coming. This time had been closer; his cock, deeply flushed, bobbed against his lower belly ominously.

One of his hands went towards it. It was an involuntary reaction, you knew, but you grabbed his wrist and kept it away from his cock nonetheless.

Beetlejuice’s eyes opened, looking slightly vacant. “Fucking hell,” he croaked.

“Are you sorry I stopped?”

His gaze dropped to yours and sharpened. “Not at fucking all, babydoll. I needed a break. I want to return the favor--”

And in the next blink, you found your positions reversed: you flat on your back and Beetlejuice between your legs. Your panties had disappeared too, leaving you with just your garter belt and stockings. He shoved his hands under your ass to lift your hips a bit, and grinned up at you, keeping eye contact while he kissed the skin above your stocking on your inner thigh. You recognized that smirk; you’d given the same to him before you’d gone down on him. It made your breath catch in your throat.

“Your pussy smells so sweet, babydoll,” he murmured, and dropped his mouth onto you.

Just as he had, you gave an involuntary jerk and gasp. Beetlejuice ate you out like this was a competition and he was vying for the championship title. No dainty, perfunctory licks like was shown in some porn before the real action started. He was sloppy, using his entire mouth to engulf you while shoving his tongue deep inside your pussy. He dragged his tongue in a wide solid line through your folds. He nuzzled in and found your clit; when he sucked a bit too hard on it, you cried out more sharply in borderline pain and yanked roughly on his hair. He immediately backed off to blow gently on the sensitive nub instead. You writhed at that treatment, and, having learned your boundary, the tip of his tongue lapped at your clit instead.

Between the waves of pleasure that were threatening to drag you under, you somehow managed to pick up your head and look down at him. Although back to being tongue deep in your pussy, Beetlejuice glanced up and caught your eyes.

“You taste so fucking good,” his voice said, in your ear. It was smoother, more like raw silk than the gravel you were so used to with him, and you shivered. His thrown voice continued. “I could eat your pussy for hours, babydoll. Would you like that? Would you like my tongue to fuck you, would you like my lips to tease your clit till you were crying? I wouldn’t edge you. I’d make you come over and over until you lost your voice--”

You felt you were on the verge of that already, having moaned and gasped the entire time he’d been at your groin.

“--that’s be so delicious, babydoll, I’d like to lick up all your wet, I’d drink it all down if you squirted on my face--”

His wicked tongue--both physically and metaphorically--sent you over the edge. You did lose your voice for a moment, wheezing as you ran out of breath because the orgasm he drew out of you started as an explosion but stretched long and thin.

When you were finally able to focus on the real world again, Beetlejuice hadn’t moved from between your legs. He still glanced up at you, and his tongue was more gentle, slipping along your pussy now, but he continued to whisper in your ear.

“That was fucking beautiful, babydoll. You taste so good. Some people think it’s not fair that women can come multiple times in a row, but I like it, because I like being able to give them to you. Ready for another, babydoll? Want my fingers in you?”

He didn’t wait for an answer, which was good because you wouldn’t have been able to reply anyway. You felt his fingers delve through your pussy, collecting the mixture of his spit and your juices before dipping inside your cunt. You arched your back and cried out as he opened you up, and when he began finger fucking you in earnest while using the tip of his tongue to make circles around your clit, you couldn’t control yourself as another orgasm rushed you.

Your legs snapped as shut as they could around his head and your hand once again tightened in his hair as you came once again. You also couldn’t prevent yourself from canting your pelvis to grind down on him at the same time, and over the blood pounding in your ears you heard his disembodied voice chuckle.

This time as you gradually relaxed and drifted back to reality, your limbs shook.

Beetlejuice was still stationed between your legs, ready to dive back in, but you needed a break. Gently, you pushed his head away. Your hand came off his head with strands of pink hair caught between your fingers; you’d yanked some of it out during the force of your orgasm, and you hadn’t even realized it.

“Sorry, Beej!” you apologized in horror.

“Don’t worry, babydoll, it’s nothing,” he replied with a grin to assure you. “I fucking loved that you couldn’t control yourself. Losing a bit of hair is a price I’m willing to pay for you coming on my mouth.”

He grinned at you, then crawled his way back up your torso. Laying belly to belly as he supported himself on his elbows, you wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him closer. His mouth tasted like your pussy and you sucked the flavor of yourself off his tongue like you were sucking his cock. While he was distracted, you dropped your hands from his back to his front, slipping them gently between your chests to tweak his nipple shields again. Beetlejuice gasped and jerked, then groaned. He looked down his chest to watch your fingers play. He dragged his eyes away from what you were doing to say, “I wanna fuck you, babydoll. Is that . . . is that all right?”

He sounded so concerned. Like there was the possibility you were going to say no. You cupped his cheek. “Beej,” you told him, trying to convey sheer sincerity, “I want you to fuck me.”

He lit up then, as if he had seriously thought you were going to banish him back to the Netherworld with blue balls. Still, he fretted, “It’s just . . . just . . . I don’t get called on often, people call on the short asshole version of me because they want him more, and--”

You shushed him with a kiss before saying, “Haven’t you been paying attention? I called you here because I want you. Okay?”

He nodded quickly, like he was worried you’d get upset if he didn’t agree. He was such an odd mix of dirty and sweet. You decided you liked it. “So then . . .” you prompted, rocking your hips as best you could under him. The movement made his cock shift a little from where it pressed against your pubic bone. When he didn’t adjust himself quickly enough, you slipped your hand between your belly and his to give him a suggestive shove on his hip to move him lower. He lifted himself and complied, but seemed content to watch your hand do all the work positioning him correctly. He gave a soft moan as you ran your hand down his cock, then followed your hand with his eyes as you brought it back to your mouth to coat your palm in saliva before grasping and stroking him again. His moan was louder with that and you grinned. You wanted to hear it even louder.

Taking the base of his cock and holding him steady, you urged him forward with a gentle tug. The head of his cock slipped inside you then and, once started, he continued smoothly until he was sheathed deep in your cunt. You got your wish: Beetlejuice moaned the loudest at that. So did you.

He hesitated for a moment. You couldn’t tell why; he didn’t need to catch his breath because he didn’t have any. Then it dawned on you he paused for you, you were panting. His length inside you felt delicious, fucking divine, and you told him so. “Fuck, Beej, your cock--it’s so good, so good, please, please fucking fuck me--!” Maybe it wasn’t the most poetic, articulate sentence in the world, but it got your point across.

Beetlejuice grinned and started. His smile faded almost immediately, replaced by a slack jaw and a tongue that occasionally dragged itself over his lower lip. His moans were deep, reverberating in his chest. He thrust into you with single-minded determination, like once again he was afraid you were going to send him away mid-fuck. You’d have slowed him down, tried to make him realize there wasn’t any danger being banished. You’d learned from the other one to curtail your natural tendency to call out his name during sex. But feeling his cock so deep inside you, the friction he created as he thrust, him burying his face in the side of your neck and taking a hunk of skin between his teeth like that was grounding him--all of that increased your pleasure. He’d made you come twice already, which always primed you for more. You found yourself begging for his cock, pleading with him to fuck you harder, please Beej, harder, fuck me harder--

As little as you’d done, and even with the break he’d gotten, you’d teased and edged him too long. He accommodated your requests as best he could, but not long after he started he shoved himself as deeply as he could into your pussy. A sudden stillness came over him. You grabbed him at his waist and ass, squeezing, continuing to try and rock up onto him. He gave a small, involuntary judder of his hips, and gave the deepest moan yet as he came inside you. He was motionless for a moment as euphoria dragged him under, then he collapsed atop you. His weight, now fully pressing his pubic bone against your clit while his cock still throbbed the last stage of his ejaculation inside your pussy, was enough to make you tumble off the edge too. You came hard, holding him tightly as your pussy clenched around him. Beetlejuice felt it too, and gasped next to your ear. Then you were both trembling messes, in the afterglow. You made no move to push him off you. You held him in place and combed your fingers through his hair while you tried to catch your breath. Beetlejuice kissed the spot on your neck he’d grabbed with his teeth, and sighed contentedly. When he finally did unstick himself from your chest, he groaned as he pulled out of you. You did too. Even dripping with his come, you felt empty without his cock inside you. Beetlejuice lay down beside you and stared at the ceiling. You groped for his hand and laced your fingers between his, happy this evening had been so good. “So what did happen between you and him, babydoll?” he finally asked, breaking the silence. “I’m not complaining you called me up, but for everyone else, he’s their main squeeze.” If you hadn’t been in such a blissed out state, or if he hadn’t hit the nail on the head, you might not have answered. But as it was . . . “That was the problem. He’s their ‘main squeeze’,” you spat, using finger quotes around the last two words. “I found out he was fucking around on me!” Beetlejuice picked up his head and cocked an eyebrow at you. You continued. “He’s been fucking all these other people! Men, women, whoever! He’d just go and fuck them however they wanted, and, and didn’t think anything of it--”

“You know that’s what I--we--do, right, babydoll?” Beetlejuice asked. “People summon me--us--and we go. It’s part of the whole ‘say my name three times’ thing. Did you think you were exclusive?” You glared at him, a little. “Yeah. Yeah, kind of,” you admitted. “He always came back here. I assumed I was the one he wanted to stay with--” “Assumed?” Beetlejuice interrupted quietly. “You can’t assume anything when you’re dealing with a ghost or a demon. We like things--and it’s in your best interest to make things--very clear.”

You sighed at his damn logic. “Well, it doesn’t matter now. I kicked him out. I don’t want to be some notch on a bedpost, just some random lay. Or worse than that, just some place holder till something better comes along.” “Am I some random lay to you, babydoll? Am I a place holder?” he asked, his voice even more quiet. You looked over at him. He looked a combination of resigned of his lot in life but with the faintest air of hopefully eager that maybe, just maybe, he’d gotten luckier this time. His hair was shot through with purple. He was so similar to but different than the Beetlejuice you’d told to fuck off, and you realized you really did like him, minor insecurity and all.

“I’d like to think it’s not,” you admitted to him. “I liked tonight. Would you like to stay?” A smile broke over his face. “I’d like that a lot, babydoll! I think we’d make a great pair--”

He leaned in to kiss you sweetly on the mouth. Your hand automatically came up to his jaw, and your tongues explored each other. You were still mostly naked but felt flushed. Realizing that you couldn’t handle the other Beetlejuice’s popularity and reputation had turned out to be fortuitous. You’d enjoyed what you’d done tonight. You enjoyed summoning and having a good time with this Beetlejuice and, selfishly, you hoped he did too and would want to stick around. You were just about to say something more, something sappy, but from the other room a familiar voice that sounded like sandpaper in your ears called out, “Hey honey, I’m home!”

tbc . . .

#beetlejuice #betelgeuse #writing #fanfiction #musical Beetlejuice #beetlejuice x reader

[kn1feinthec0ffee]

in too deep (part 4) - jules 

jules x reader

warnings: for the first time in this story, probably nothing really major!! very vague description of piercing removal?? (this is me trying not to spoil the movie for anyone even though this is the fourth part lol)

notes: this might be a little short, but if you look at the footnotes of the last part, i explained why

also should i say like what’s coming next before every piece like up here in this section or does nobody care bc i would totally do that SO next week is either going to be henry fluff, roman fluff, or roman smut 😳 if i finish them all before next week, you guys can let me know which one you want if you wanna do that

******************

  “i’ve told you a hundred times, the business model is flawless,” you repeated. “every day we roll outta bed, hit the shore, and scoop up a day’s worth of merchandise. you know, nice shiny shells, maybe some skipping rocks; and then we spend the afternoon sellin’ ‘em. it’s pure profit, julie.”

  “yeah, babe, that’s a good idea n’ all, but what happens when we get too big? we’re gonna have to hire a shell finder, and then it won’t be pure profit anymore. that could bleed us dry.” jules countered. 

  “shit, that’s a good point. what if instead of paying him, we give him a chunk of the company? like equity, right?” you suggested. 

  “oh yeah, true.” she murmured. “well we have the business model and all, but what are we gonna call it?” 

you were trying to keep your calm, even in this terrible situation. you found that talking about the future, even though said future was entirely dependent on the fact that the two of you made it out of here alive, helped to quell your anxiety. or maybe it was just the fact that jules had an incredibly calming effect on you. 

  “hmmm, that’s a good one. i feel like that’s all you. i think you’re a little more creative than i am. i’m just the numbers girl.” you responded. the tinny, tapping noise of her tongue stud as she was deep in thought irked you. “babe, could you stop that? i keep tellin’ you, you’re gonna ruin your enam- oh fuck, wait!”

  “what?” she asked confusedly. “your tongue ring! th-the stud!” you exclaimed. “what about it?”

  “the locks- i can pick the locks with it!” you tried to maintain a low volume; after all, this plan didn’t need to be spoiled only moments after it’s conception. 

  “baby, it’s in my tongue,” jules reminded you. “how are you gonna get it out?” you winced as you realized the lengths your girlfriend would have to go to to get the two of you out of here. 

  “maybe if you do that thing that i hate - the one with your teeth - and just kinda pull on it, maybe it’ll just sorta, pop out?” you proposed. you heard a hefty sigh from behind you, hopefully signaling an attempt to escape. 

  “fine, i’ll try it.” you listened silently as she grunted behind you, pulling with all the force her tongue could muster. “sorry, babe, my tongue isn’t strong enough.”

  “no, your tongue is so strong! it’s a great, strong tongue! could you try again?” you begged, but to no avail, jules knew she couldn’t pull it out. “what if you - um - just, like, kinda turn towards me - yeah, yeah, like that, and i just sorta - clamp down on it with my teeth and, y’know, remove it.”

jules spun back around at lightspeed, slamming her mouth shut as she internally cringed at your suggestion. “that’s gonna fucking kill!”

  “i know, baby, i know it’s gonna hurt! believe me, i wish i had the piercing in my tongue, but i don’t.” you hung your head down in desperation. “julie, please, this is our only chance outta here.” 

  “you owe me,” she grumbled in acceptance. you heard the sound of fabric shuffling against the frigid concrete and you turned to meet her halfway. 

  “i owe you.” you whispered to her, placing a quick kiss on the tip of her nose. “you ready?” she nodded, holding her tongue out and closing her eyes as she braced herself for what was sure to be very painful. 

  “okay, one, two,” on three, you yanked your head back, successfully pulling the stud out. she clamped her mouth shut rapidly, trying to contain her scream. before you could praise her, the basement door swung open and in came george holding some sort of food. 

you’ve got to be fucking kidding me, you thought. you kept your mouth sealed, hiding the ring beneath your tongue and hoping that jules would do the same. george approached the two of you, humiliatingly waving a ladle full of the dish in front of your face. 

  “come on, eat up. we don’t want you starvin’ down here now.” george smirked, his expression turning into scowl when you refused the food. “no? well, how ‘bout you?” he shoved the spoon towards jules, but he received the same response. 

  “fine. you’re gonna have to eat at some point, and i don’t particularly give a damn whether it’s my wife’s food or your own goddamn fingers.” he grumbled before heading back upstairs. as soon as the door closed, you heard jules spit the contents of her mouth onto the ground, panting as she took in breaths. “fuck.”

  “shit, that was a close one,” you dropped the ring from your teeth into your open palm. “you good, babe?”

  “yeah,” she groaned at the nasty taste in her mouth. “i just swallowed a bunch of blood. tasted like metal.” 

  “don’t worry, i got it from here.” you prodded at the keyhole with the stud, jabbing at it from every direction you could muster. you sighed as you couldn’t seem to get a good angle on your own cuffs. “fuck.”

  “what is it?” jules asked. “y/n, don’t tell me we just ripped a hole in my tongue for no reason.”

  “no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no way! here just - let me try and get at yours. could you like, sorta, present them to me?” she shuffled into the perfect place just within your reach. “yes, baby! that’s great!”

  “alright you motherfucker. come on, you little piece of shit, fuckin’ dickbag,” you cursed to yourself as you jammed the stud every which way. “you little piece of fucking shit... oh, i fucking got it!” you exclaimed. 

  “oh yes, baby!” jules shimmied out of the cuffs, turning around to press little kisses all over your neck and cheeks. “i love you so much!”

as much as you loved her affection, you loved the idea of escaping this hellhole even more. “alright, alright,” you panted through a smile. “no time to waste. get mine.”

  “okay, what do i do?” she questioned as she took the stud out of your fingers. “you just kind of stick ‘em in there, and then you kinda move it around until you find a catch point.” you answered. 

  “relax and feel it,” you directed, feeling her nimble fingers working the pin into the lock. “yeah, that’s right, just feel it. come on!”

suddenly, you heard a small snap, emanating from the cuffs. “oops,” jules mumbled under her breath. you forgot how to breathe for a moment. “oops?” you wondered out loud. “it, um, it broke.” she spoke so quietly she was nearly whispering. 

  “ohyougottabefuckingkiddingme,” you breathed out, trying to will the lump in your throat and the tears behind your eyes to go away as to not make your girlfriend feel bad. “whe- where’d it break?” you asked, expecting the worst possible answer. 

  “it - uh, it probably broke inside and now it’s just kind of in there!” she panicked. “oh baby. baby, i’m so sorry. i fucked it all up!” her head hit the pole with a soft thud. 

  “no, no, no, no, no, no, no! it’s okay, it’s okay!” you tried to deescalate the situation as fast as you could; the last thing you needed on top of being chained to a post was your girlfriend to have a breakdown. “hey, hey, come over here! c’mere, c’mere!” she crawled in front of you, wringing her head in her hands as she apologized profusely. “hey, it’s okay. you did your best. look, my leg is fucked, i can hardly walk anyways. it doesn’t matter. you got this, okay?”

despite your reassurance, jules still seemed a little shaky. “i- i don’t even know what to do, though. w-what do i do?” she looked over to sweetiepie who was waving her hand at them. “what is it?” she pointed in the opposite direction, directing jules’ gaze to an escape. “holy shit, it’s a laundry chute!” 

a spark set off inside you; maybe getting out of here was possible after all. “can you get up there?” she nodded confidently as if to say ‘of course i can’. she pulled you into a fierce kiss, catching you by surprise. “i love you,”

  “i love you too,” she grinned, making her way over to the chute and hoisting herself up inside, disappearing from your view.

you turned to sweetiepie, a desperate look on your face. “she better make it outta here.”

******************************

oops i may have accidentally went back and watched the movie a fifth time just to refresh myself on some of the dialogue but it was an accident i assure you

tags: @emmyrosee​ @flowers-in-your-hayr​ @willyourecognisemee​ @bill-skarsgard-owns-my-ass​

#jules #jules x reader #jules imagine #jules oneshot #jules fanfiction #jules fanfic #jules fic #jules villains #villains #villains 2019 #maika monroe #maika monroe character #my writing

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Witness : 6

The Day After

moodboard created by @chuuulip

Character(s): dark!Bucky, later dark!Steve, too

Warnings: this is a dark!fic, it contains non/dubious-consent elements. Some violence as well at the beginning. It goes without (and with) that this is 18+.

Summary: The reader finds it hard to adjust after her first night with Bucky.

Notes: I am reposting this fic here. It was originally on ao3 but now it’s on tumblr too! If you read, I love feedback and would love any comments you have. And if you can, please share! Anyhow, enjoy :)

You weren’t sure of the time when Bucky left you. You didn’t move as his weight left the bed for the last time. Didn’t look to see the time. You couldn’t even recall what he had said when he left. Had he said anything? You were too shattered to listen. You just lay on the bed, sprawled in the position he had last broken you in, breathing but nothing more. You lingered on the other option.  Maybe death was better than this. Feeling so violated, languishing in your debasement. You couldn’t see that the void beyond could offer any such self-loathing. If you told him you had changed your mind, would he kill you now?After the hours he had spent relishing in your torment, you knew it was too late for that. He would use you until you outlived your usefulness. He had said as much upon your first real meeting.

Slowly, you moved one leg, then the other, and crawled across the bed and onto the floor. Your knees shook as you stood but you kept yourself upright. Your ass was sore, thighs too, your core thrumming from the abuse. You stared at the blankets, tangled across the mattress, your stomach recoiled. You turned and stumbled, reaching out desperately for balance as you lumbered into the washroom. Your guts spilled into the sink, mostly bile. You turned on the faucet and washed it away. You let yourself slump to the tile, leaning against the side of clawfoot tub. Your breath picked up but you couldn’t cry. Not anymore. It was a peculiar sensation. You felt numb yet agonized. It was a pain you couldn’t quite grasp. You hung your head and sat until the frosted glass lightened, signalling that day was close.

You sat in the shower, scrubbing at your skin, slowly at first but then your need to cleanse yourself grew frantic. You emerged with raw flesh and dressed in a pair off baggy sweatpants and an aged sweater with holes in the cuffs. You dumped the clothing from your hamper and ripped the sheets and blankets from atop your bed, shoving them deep within the tall basket.  You sat on the machine in the common laundry room as it shook with swirl of your bed clothing. Your fingers bent over the edge of the white metal, the subtle tumbling almost calming. You changed the load over and repeated your vigil.

You tossed the bedding down the garbage chute when they were done.

The sun was fully risen when you returned to your apartment, refusing to enter the bedroom and acknowledge your barren mattress.  Your phone vibrated, drawing your attention as you carefully set up a pot of coffee to brew. You waited to fill your mug before you dug the phone from your purse, the screen lighting up as another message arrived. ‘You up for a sleepover?’ Allie followed the invitation with a winky emoji. You didn’t know how to answer. You definitely didn’t want to sleep in your own bed but you were afraid that Bucky would return that night and think you fled.

Your phone shook again, this time an unknown number. You opened the window and read, the fear creeping up your neck like spider legs. ‘In case you think of trying to run again’. It was easy to guess who had sent the text, easier with the photos that followed. Images more chilling than the scene in the parking garage. Pictures of your mother in front of her house, watering her flowers, accompanied by a wall of text including her name, birth date, social security number...everything about her.

‘Sorry, I can’t,’ You replied to Allie. You were pitiful. Too afraid to have a life so that you can sit and await your bane. A call came through, unknown number. You pressed answer as your heart raced. “Y/N,” Bucky’s voice greeted but you couldn’t speak. “Come on, what did I say about answering me.”

“What do you want?” You rasped, walking over to your window, looking out along the skyline. Could he see you then?

“You can go to the sleepover. I won’t be over tonight.” You could hear the smirk in his voice.

“W-what?” You sputtered, trying to search him out. “You can see my texts?”

“I see everything. I told you. Now, go ahead and have some fun. You deserve it after last night.” You were sickened by his tone. You reached up and drew the curtains shut. “I’m out of town right now but I’ll be back on Tuesday. This time I expect you to be on time.”

“I have to work,” You lied.

“Not that late. 10-6. Not a bad shift. Enough time after to have some fun.” Your hand was trembling uncontrollably. “I expect you’ll be home before seven.”

“Y-yes,” You stuttered, your throat constricting.

“Well, I should let you go. I’m a bit tied up at the moment,” He was signing off as if this was a perfectly casual conversation. “Oh, and one thing before I go, Y/N. Don’t try to lie to me again. When I return, you will be punished for breaking the rules. No passes this time. Understood?”

You choked, “Yes,” You whispered into the speaker, “Yes, I understand.”

“Good.” He was smirking, you could hear it. “Have fun at your sleepover.” The line went dead and you pulled your phone away from your ear. You scrolled through your contacts, returning to your conversation with Allie. ‘Actually, a sleepover sounds great.’

You crossed your arms as you waited for Allie to answer her damn buzzer. The speaker crackled and you heard her rustling in the background. “Y/N?” This always happened. She was always in the middle of something else when you turned up. You would have laughed if your body would have allowed it.

“Yeah, it’s me,” You called back, “Come on. Let me in. I’m soaked.” It had rained again but you hadn’t really noticed until you entered the lobby. The door rang and you pulled on it as it unlocked. You stood in front of the elevator, waiting for it to descend. You were jealous of Allie’s building; it was new enough that its amenities worked. At your building, you couldn’t trust the elevator. The old cage door and the several residents who reported hours spent waiting to be freed from its grips by maintenance. With your luck, you didn’t tempt fate.

It was a smooth ride up and you waited once more before Allie’s door. She slid free the chain free and let you in. Her hair was wrapped in a towel and her face green with an herbal smelling mask. “Just in time,” She chimed as she welcomed you in. “Shit, Y/N, you look fucking ragged. Good thing I have an extra mask.”

I don’t think a mask will do the trick, you thought as your eyebrows twitched. “Ha, yeah,” You laughed halfheartedly, “I brought wine.”

“You look like you need it,” She smiled but her eyes caught yours and she stopped. Usually she was hard to shut up. She’d keep going enough for the both of you so you never needed to worry about lively conversation. “Are you okay?”

You shook your head, trying to free yourself from the chains which only grew tighter around your limbs. “Fine,” You lied, forcing a bigger smile. She hesitated but backed off, allowing you the fib. She was always understanding. Whatever you needed, she would give. If that meant space, she’d give you a mile, but when the time came she was right by your side.

“Let me uncork that wine,” She took the large bottle from you, weighing it as the golden nectar swished against the glass, “Wow, you went all out.”

“Last time you drank it all,” You kidded. Still the smile was not real. You were relieved to be away from your apartment, to have Allie nearby, but you just couldn’t feel...normal. You hung your jacket and slipped out of your boots, following her down the hallway. Her apartment always amused you as it looked like Barbie herself could live here.  Allie was a great host. She filled the largest wine glasses and set them on the low coffee table.

“Go rinse your face and I’ll put the mask on.” You did as she said, splashing your face and returning to her, closing your eyes as she smoothed the thick mask over your skin. “Ha, let me get my phone.” She stood as she finished, washing her hand in the kitchen sink and retrieving her phone as she sat back down. “I’m going to send this to everyone. You look so funny.”

“You’re one to talk,” You rolled your eyes. Her own mask was dried and starting to flake. She looked like a swamp monster.

“Shit, I gotta get this off!” She jumped up again and raced to the bathroom. When she came back she was giggling and touching her rosy cheeks, the rest of her face just as red.

“How long is this suppose to be on?” You asked anxiously.

“Ten minutes. But I may have left mine on a little longer,” She grinned, baring her teeth awkwardly.

“Right, I’m just going to take mine off now.” You passed her and swiftly cleaned your face as you felt tingling along your forehead. You were thankfully soft and without shine, your skin much brighter than before.

“So,” Allie handed you your wine as you say, “What are we going to watch tonight? Or do you wanna play a game? I got the new Mario.”

“Hmm? So many options,” You leaned back, sipping deep from your wine. “You choose. I’ll do whatever.” Whatever could distract you from the impending doom which stood over you so constantly. You drank again from you wine, setting down the glass with only a mouthful left.

“Take it easy, Y/N,” Allie looked up as she switched on her console, “We have all night and only one bottle.”

“Won’t be that long a night if I drink enough,” You muffled a belch into your palm and she laughed.

“I guess that’s one way of looking at it,” She sat beside you on the couch and handed you a controller, “But I think you’ll need your wits for this game. I might just kick your ass.”

#dark!bucky #dark!bucky barnes #dark bucky #dark bucky barnes #dark!fic #au #mcu #marvel #witness #series #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fic #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader

[here4theheartbreak]

Stuck (JinKook)

AO3 Link!

Rating: Explicit

Relationships: JinKook (Jin/Jungkook)

Genre: smut

Tags: PWP, canon compliant, established relationship, bottom!Jungkook, top!Jin, under-negotiated kink, bareback, gaping, fingering, dirty talk

Summary: Jungkook gets himself a little stuck. Good thing Jin is there to help.

Word Count: ~2.8k

There were a few moments in Jungkook’s life that made him stop and think, how did he end up here. Most of the time, the answer to this question was a combination of his own doing and his group mates.

At this moment, however, with his toes barely touching the floor and the metal of the laundry chute opening beginning to dig into his stomach, Jungkook couldn’t deny that he’d managed to get himself into this mess entirely on his own.

The majority of the group was gone, a rare day off. Taehyung was off doing photography, Jimin and Namjoon were hiking the trail along the river, Yoongi and Hoseok were shopping, and Jin had gone to visit his brother at the restaurant. Though Jin had invited Jungkook to come along, the piles of laundry gathering around the house were getting too big for even his comfort. So, he’d opted to stay back and do a few loads, if anything to take some everyday stress off the others.

Which worked out great. Their laundry chute was a godsend for Jungkook as he piled the small mountain of clothes he’d gathered from Namjoon’s room into it. If only getting himself to their laundry area was so efficient.

Thinking was his first mistake.

Sticking his head into the mouth of the chute and deciding that maybe it could be efficient was his second. His third was the moment he hoisted himself into the hole, head first.

Jungkook realized his plan had a gaping hole in it as soon as his hips slid past the rim of the chute. Though the chute was perfect for piles of clothing, it was a little tight for a human Jungkook’s size. The angle of the chute forced him to hang his head downward. The sides were smooth, not allowing any sort of grip for his hands, and each movement of his arms had him bumping his elbows painfully against the metal. Jungkook’s waist caught on the edge of the chute, his toes barely touching the floor. This was a bad idea.

Unfortunately, Jungkook realized that getting himself out of the chute was going to be a lot more difficult. Because he couldn’t grip with his hands, nor lift the top half of his body upright, he had to rely on his legs. Which would have been fine, if he’d been able to grip at all with what little he could touch the floor with. His socks slipped on the smooth tile, and each attempt to stabilize himself had Jungkook worrying he was going to topple entirely down the chute.

Forcing himself to remain calm, he closed his eyes, trying to think of what he could do. Staying still was really the only way he could secure safety. His phone was in his pocket, but grabbing it was out of the question. He tried to remember if any member told him when they might be back. Namjoon and Jimin would likely be gone all day; their hikes usually took them around mountain trails well into the evening. Taehyung might be back before too long, but that depended a lot on if he was getting good shots. The day was beautiful, which did allow for more. Yoongi and Hoseok were possible bets. Jungkook had heard them talking about a few stores they had wanted to visit. And Jin was a wildcard. Depending on the level of customers at the restaurant he could either spend all day, or just an hour or two.

Jungkook sighed, swearing at his own stupidity. Waiting for the others was an option, but he couldn’t just hang there in the meantime. He began to try and wiggle his way up and out of the chute, but each time he tried he found the result more and more hopeless.

Jungkook heard the door creak open on the first floor. “Hyung!” He shouted, wincing. The chute echoed his voice back to him, and he could only hope that it allowed enough echo outward that whoever came in would hear him.

“Hyung!” He shouted again. “Help me, please!”

“Jungkook-ah?” Jin’s muffled voice echoed through the house.

“Up here!”

“JK?”

Jungkook could hear Jin climbing the steps. His heart rate increased, cheeks burning when he realized the position Jin would find him in. “I’m stuck!” He called.

The footsteps stopped near Jungkook’s legs. Jin let out a sharp laugh.

“Jungkook, what the hell happened?”

“I’m stuck, hyung, please - get me out.”

Jin’s hand fell heavy on his lower back. “What a predicament you managed to get yourself into here, Jungkookie.” The hand slid lower, massaging Jungkook’s ass.

“Jin-hyung— What are you doing?” Jungkook asked softly.

“Well, looks like you’re serving yourself up on a platter for me.” Jin’s fingers played along the waistband on Jungkook’s sweatpants.

“You wouldn’t.”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“I’m stuck in the laundry chute!”

“Mm.. That’s obvious. Still doesn’t give me a reason why I shouldn’t.”

Jungkook scowled into the darkness. He wasn’t wrong. And it had been a long time since they’d had time enough to themselves to make love. Not that this was making love, so to speak, but he couldn’t deny the taboo eroticism of it.

“My stomach hurts,” he complained.

“From what?”

“The metal. It’s cutting in.” Jungkook knew he could have easily just told a lie and stopped Jin’s dirty plans in their tracks, but the more he thought about it… Maybe it wasn’t so bad.  

“I’ll fix that.” Jin’s hands were firm on his hip, helping him tilt one way. Soft fabric was bunched over the lip of the chute. Jin had him turn the other way and pulled the fabric under, giving him a bit of padding so the metal didn’t cause pain.

“Better?”

“Yes. But it would work just as well if you took me out of here!”

“When I’m done, I will.” With that, Jin yanked his sweats down around his ankles, exposing his ass to the cool air. Jungkook yelped in surprise, his head smacking the wall of the chute.

Jin tsked, squeezing a handful of his ass. “No underwear, Jungkook?”

“I was washing them all.”

“Naughty. What if someone else had come in?”

“Well, I doubt they would’ve ripped my pants off,” Jungkook sassed. He hissed when Jin smacked his ass hard, sending tingles straight to his cock.

“You never know in this day and age. Stay there.”

“Where are you going?” Jungkook cried. When Jin didn’t answer, he wiggled as much as he could. “Hyung! Don’t leave!”

“Settle down, you don’t want to fall in. You’d twist your neck,” Jin shouted. Jungkook tried to settle, his heart pounding in his ears. Jin returned, placing a hand on Jungkook’s back.

“Where did you go?”

“Just to get this.”

Jungkook remained silent, scowling at nothing.

“Oh, right. You can’t look. This might give it away.”

Jungkook heard the telltale click of the cap of a bottle. He gasped when Jin pressed a dollop of cold lube against his hole, rubbing teasingly.

“What if someone walks in?”

“I’ll hear the door unlock. Are you going to complain the whole time?”

“Will it stop you?”

“Do you want this?”

Jungkook stayed quiet for a moment. He chewed his bottom lip, considering. “If I don’t?”

Jin’s hand left his ass immediately. “Then we won’t. Tell me, JK. You know I’d never—”

“I know.”

“Tell me.”

Jungkook swallowed hard. “I want it.”

“What was that?”

“I want it. But I’m still going to complain. I can’t believe you want to fuck me while I’m stuck down a laundry chute dammit.”

Jin laughed heartily, spreading Jungkook’s ass once more. He began to massage his rim gently, getting it to relax as he worked his finger in.

Jungkook mumbled under his breath as Jin opened him up, first one finger then two, gently spreading and massaging his hole. His cock was achingly hard, twitching and leaking precome despite his whines. He could feel Jin’s cock, trapped in his jeans, pressed tight to his thigh.

“Are you gonna fuck it or just finger me all day?” Jungkook finally growled.

“Patience, JK. Make it sound like you’re eager for this.”

Jungkook pouted, his mouth forming a fine line. He was suddenly mad Jin couldn’t see his face. Jin’s fingers slipped free, and Jungkook heard his zipper and the shuffle of his jeans. His hole fluttered in anticipation, heart picking up speed. No matter how often they had sex, the anticipation never faded.

Jin applied more lube to Jungkook’s ass, groaning in quiet approval.

“Just do it,” Jungkook growled. He didn’t bother to bite back his shout when Jin pushed his cock in. He swore, hands scrambling against the smooth metal. Jin kept a firm grip on his waist, holding him steady as he began to fuck into him without hesitation.

“You’re such an asshole,” he hissed, trying to look over his shoulder. His head hit the side of the chute and he groaned.

“Might wanna stay still,” Jin suggested. He gripped Jungkook’s hips a little tighter, angling his thrusts to get as deep as he could in their position.

Jungkook moaned helplessly when Jin’s cock slid perfectly over his prostate, his own cock twitching and dribbling precome onto the floor.

“Hyung—“

“Shh, I got you,” Jin said. He continued to pump in at that angle, reaching around and gently stroking Jungkook’s cock.

“You love this so much. For all the complaints... This is hot to you too, isn’t it, JK?”

Jungkook shouted, his voice echoing against the metal. “Yes!”

“Oh, there we go.” Jin pulled his cock free, spreading Jungkook open. He whimpered, pushing his ass back as his rim fluttered against nothing.

“So desperate,” Jin teased. He spat against Jungkook’s hole. “So needy for a cock.” Fingers came next, gently tugging at Jungkook’s stretched rim. “What would the others think, JK? If they came home and saw you in this predicament? Pants around your ankles... Hole all wet and loose. And if I was nowhere to be found?” Jin’s laugh sent chills of arousal straight through Jungkook’s body.

“Please, hyung,” he begged, trying to push his ass back further. His feet slipped on the smooth floor, the chute’s mouth biting into his hip despite the padding Jin had provided. “Fuck me, please!”

“That’s an awful quick about face for you telling me to wait, to get you out first.” Jin slid his smooth tip over Jungkook’s ass.

“I know, I need it, please. I’m so hard, Jin-hyung—“

“You are. It’s making quite the mess on our floor. You should be punished for that.”

Jin pushed back in, holding Jungkook still as he began to thrust. Jungkook screamed his name, doing his best to clench around and work Jin’s cock from his limited ability to move.

Jin groaned contentedly, slowing down to focus on the rhythmic clenching of Jungkook’s rim.

“God, you’re a little slut,” he grumbled. “Want me to come in you, Jungkookie?”

“Yes, hyung, please—“ Jungkook gasped when Jin began to press his thumb in alongside his cock, opening him further. He began to thrust once more, massaging the swollen muscles as he did.

“Just relax. Take it,” Jin instructed, rubbing the small of Jungkook’s back with his free hand. He pulled his cock free but left his thumb, forcing Jungkook open. “Goddamn, baby...”

Jungkook blushed at the sweet tone of Jin’s voice.

“You know... I compliment the outside all the time. But I don’t think I’ve ever told you what a hot, beautiful asshole you’ve got. So tight, warm... So pretty and pink when you’re loose for me like this.”

Jungkook shivered, his cock twitching with need. He opened his mouth to respond, but Jin’s cock slid home before he could get out more than a whine.

“Relax,” Jin whispered.

“I’m ass up in a fucking laundry chute,” Jungkook growled, whimpering at the smack he earned for it.

“You got yourself into this mess,” Jin reminded him. “Now relax.”

Jungkook scowled into the darkness. Jin’s cock slowed to a stop, his thumb still holding one side further open. Much to Jungkook’s surprise, Jin began to work his other thumb in on the other side, wet with lube.

“Jin-hyung!”

“I know you can take it,” Jin praised. “You always talk about wanting double penetration. This is step one. Do this well and maybe we’ll use your toy with me tonight.”

Jungkook grunted, screwing his eyes shut. He did his best to relax, breathing and focusing on the pleasant twist of his stomach.

Jin’s palms rested heavy on his ass, helping to keep him open. He pulled his cock free and whistled, hooking his thumbs to keep Jungkook open. “That’s a beautiful sight, baby.”

Jungkook flushed red, imagining what Jin was looking at. He could feel him ass forced open, the cool air against his lube slick insides an entirely new feeling.

“F— Fuck it,” he whispered.

“Hm?” Jin asked.

“Fuck it,” Jungkook said more firmly. “Fuck my ass, just like this. I can feel how open I am... I need you in me. Please?” He softened his tone at the end, hoping to sound endearing and not so bossy. Jin moaned softly.

“My Jungkook,” he cooed, leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to Jungkook’s sweat slicked back. “Let it all out, okay? I wanna hear how much you like this.”

Jin slid home slowly, his thumbs still holding Jungkook open. Jungkook blushed at the sounds his body made, wet and dirty and downright slutty. Jin moaned for each one though, and Jungkook could feel the tension in his body as he struggled to stay steady.

Jungkook’s moans began softly, quiet whimpers and sighs, a few giggles. Jin’s cock twitched deep inside him, a promise of what was to come, and he moaned, long and low. When Jin’s speed increased, the giggles were replaced by cries of more, harder, deeper. The sighs were replaced by shouts, echoed back to his ears.

His cock twitched and throbbed, balls tightening to his body as Jin fucked his open ass.

“I’m so close, hyung—“ He panted, his elbow banging against the metal siding hard. He barely noticed. Jin pulled his thumbs free and Jungkook cried out. His ass clenched, though not near as tight as it had at the start. His cheeks burned.

“Come for me,” Jin demanded, fucking into him hard and fast. Jungkook sobbed brokenly, his body aching both from his position and from the pleasant torture of Jin’s cock.

“Jin-hyung, please!” He begged. Jin reached down and gave his balls a gentle squeeze. It was enough. Jungkook shouted, his muscles tensing and releasing as he spilled onto the floor and wall.

Jin snarled his name, his hand striking the wall above the laundry chute. His cock throbbed and twitched as he came, spilling deep inside. Jungkook slumped as well as he could, his ass aching pleasantly. He gasped when Jin pulled out, a thick dribble of come following and running down his thigh.

“Now that, JK, is art.”

“Get me out of here,” Jungkook grumbled.

“Hold on.”

“Hyung! You said you’d pull me out!” Jungkook struggled in his spot, his toes slipping once more.

“Stay still for five seconds,” Jin scolded. He slapped his ass, the jolt causing a second dribble of come to escape, adding to the dirty feeling burrowing into Jungkook’s core. He heard a phone camera snapping a few photos and then Jin’s hands were on his hips.

“Relax and listen. I’m gonna have to kind of pick you up to help with getting you out. Trust me, okay?”

“Yes, Jin-hyung.”

Jungkook screwed his eyes shut when Jin lifted his hips completely from the chute’s opening. He shushed him gently, splaying his palm on Jungkook’s back to stabilize him. His feet landed on the floor firmly and Jin helped pull him the rest of the way out of the laundry chute, placing a hand on his head to keep him from bumping it.

Jungkook whipped around, hugging Jin tightly the moment he was free. “Thank you.”

Jin chuckled, pressing a kiss to Jungkook’s cheek. “Let’s go get you cleaned up.”

Jungkook stepped back, blushing a little when the reality sunk in. He was standing in the middle of their hallway, pants around his ankles and come running down his thighs. He chuckled. “You made the mess.”

“Hm. You’re not wrong.” Jin grabbed his shirt, still hanging on the edge of the laundry chute, and crouched, using it to wipe up the come on the floor and wall. He looked up at Jungkook, his gaze full of adoration. He wiped Jungkook’s legs gently, pressing kisses to his thighs.

“Wanna take a shower with me?”

Jungkook nodded. He pulled up his pants, still feeling that loose ache deep inside himself. “Let me get this other load of laundry started. Then I’ll be in there, okay?”

“Of course.” Jin pressed a kiss to his mouth. He turned to head toward the bathroom. “Oh, JK?”

“What?”

“Use the stairs this time.”

Jungkook scowled, sticking his tongue out at Jin even as the elder walked away, laughing.

Tags: @i-live-so-i-love @wonhojiminie

#networkbangtan #bangtanarmynet #btsguild #kwritersworldnet #armyofwriters #armiesnet #thebtstown #jinsnetwork #jinkook #jungkook x seokjin #jungkook x jin #jin x jungkook #seokjin x jungkook #jin/jungkook #jungkook/jin #seokjin/jungkook #jungkook/seokjin #jeon jungkook x kim seokjin #bts ships #bottom!jungkook #top!seokjin #mywriting

[heartslogos]

newfragile yellows [463]

“By the end of this I’m either going to be dead, my brother will be dead, or I’ll emerge with an entire new family,” Ellana says, pinning her phone to her ear as she pulls ingredients out of the refrigerator. “Alim? Terrifying. A beast. A complete and utter catastrophe in a body. I love him. He’s wonderful to inflict on others. Watching him and Neria go head to head? It’s like watching continents clash. This is what it would look like if you saw a killer whale fight a shark and yes I know killer whales are actually sharks.”

“I’m beginning to think you have a type,” Bull says. “Should I be jealous?”

“Just a little maybe. He’s queer, too. Did you know everyone this house is a flavor of queer? It thought I was the queer cousin. Maybe they put all of the queer cousins in one house with the stipulation of us eliminating each other in order to weed us out. Find the alpha queer cousin. Establish a hierarchy. Create a new breed of queer cousin.”

“I’m worried about you being cooped up in that house with only the most eccentric of your family to feed energy off of. You’re stuck in this feedback loop of chaotic neutral and I’m wondering if you’re going to come out of this at all,” Bull replies. She hears him pop the tab of a beer can and muffled voices and the rustle of cloth as he turns the phone onto his shoulder or something to say something.

“Did I call at a bad time?”

“Sort of. Stitches wasn’t chosen for that program he applied to so we’re trying to cheer him up.”

“No! He’s been working so hard for it! How did he not get chosen? He’s been working on getting good word and networking and putting in all that overtime. He took all those extra courses and did all that volunteer work on top of his clinical rotation. If I weren’t stuck in this house I’d go over to that…panel of whoever picked it out… and give them a piece of my mind!”

“And for that we’re grateful.”

“That I’d do it or that I’m stuck in this house and that I can’t?”

“Column A and Column B.”

“Hmph.”

“I’d put you on speaker,” Bull says, “But my phone’s battery is at about twenty and these dipshits forgot all their chargers simultaneously so they’re using up every fucking outlet in the place. I had to unplug the microwave and three lamps.”

“Well. When I win this house we’ll have all the outlets we’ll ever need for all of our friends who never remember to charge their phones,” Ellana says.

“I thought you just wanted to make everyone else wash out. Are you actually going for it now?”

“Oh, yes. I’ve been changed living here. I’m used to the luxury of having so many rooms and all this space and like…being unable to see actual civilization without walking a quarter of a mile to the driveway gate. There’s an intercom system here. There’s also an old fashioned - you know, like. Bells? You’re in a room and you’re suddenly wanting for something and you push a button and it rings a bell somewhere in the house and someone comes to find you wherever you are? It’s got one of those. And laundry chutes. And like…piping from fireplaces that move hot air through the house. And hidden servant hallways and stuff. Think of the mystery. Think of the pranks. Think of the scares.”

“I am starting to think maybe I don’t want you tow in. I have a bad heart, babe.”

“Your heart wouldn’t be so bad off i you’d stop insisting pizza is a salad.”

“Tomato. Cheese. Spinach. Pineapple. Ham. All mixed together. It’s a salad.”

“In what universe is that a salad — you’re just trying to get me to talk until your phone runs out of battery aren’t you?”

“Now why would I do that?”

“That’s a good question. You tell me, Bull. Why would you purposefully steer the conversation towards your heart health, knowing I’d make a comment about pizza salads, knowing that we’d get into it and I’m not going to let this go ever?”

“That’s something you’ll have to find out when you eventually make it out of that house, I guess. So, anything else new?”

“No,” Ellana says. “All of us are still here and going strong. I can’t sense any cracks forming. But it should be soon.  Kallian operates on such a high level of stress that I’m surprised she hasn’t started hyperventilating into a paper bag yet. The other day I saw her lying down flat on the floor staring at the ceiling with this look in her eyes. I was going to ask her what was wrong but Lyna said it was probably best we left her alone. She seemed fine at dinner later.”

“You’re okay though, right? And Mahanon?”

“Mahanon’s delighted. He’s holed himself up in the attic and I think I see him maybe twice a day.”

“In a house that big I’m surprised you even see each other at all.”

“We’re all so like minded that we’re constantly running into each other. It’s astounding, really. It’s like we’re one hive mind now. I’d say we could finish each other’s sentences but we’r more likely to leave each other hanging on purpose. In fact at this very moment I’m making Darrian a smoothie. He didn’t ask me to. But he’s probably done with his afternoon jog and I thought it would be nice for him. It’s strange I didn’t now them so well before but I feel like we’re so much closer as a family. We need to do this with our friends.”

“We’d end up killing each other for sure. Pentaghast, Varric, Rutherford, and Hawke in one house together for an extended period of time? It’ll be a slaughterhouse.”

“But we’d know so much more about each other in the process, and that’s what it’s about really.”

#heartsfic #gather your party and venture forth