#I just need one day of rage cleaning where I drink a coffee and a Red Bull and just go off on cleaning

[skinreflectsthesun]

.

#I’m so overwhelmed with work right now #and I woke up late so I had to work from home #and I’m trying to work but my house is a mess #there’s laundry piling up #the kitchen is a disaster #there is not a single corner of this house that is actually fucking clean #and it kills me #it kills me that from morning till night I’m just jam packed with things to do #and that I have to either choose to spend time with my baby or clean #and I’d rather be with him #and I tell myself every night I’ll clean af #after he goes to sleep #and that just doesn’t happen #because I’m so tired #I just need one day of rage cleaning where I drink a coffee and a Red Bull and just go off on cleaning #there’s just never any time

[weepylucifer]

24. "You're trembling." steban/ulixes

The whole mess starts like this: one afternoon, Ulixes doesn't turn up to the reading group meeting.

His absence is a stark confrontation with the fact of how alone Steban is. Thus far, as long as at least Ulixes was still coming to the meetings regular as clockwork, Steban could go on with business as usual and put off reckoning with how solipsistic his little pretense at a revolutionary cell has become. Pretend like any educating of anyone in matters of radical theory was still being done here... like other members could walk in at any moment and give the whole thing a purpose again. Now, with Ulixes absent, Steban sits and waits and drinks too much coffee and feels, though he tries to ignore it, a bit like an idiot with his metaphorical dick in his hand.

He considers his options: he could go out and try to recruit again, he could go to bed and have a depressive episode, he could do serious self-critique about where the reading group went astray and why, he could wallow in his misery about driving his friends away with leftist infighting. He could disband the reading group. He could steal Cindy's pyrholidon and get high. He could go to Uli's apartment and start a huge fight about his perceived betrayal. He could get high, go to Uli's apartment, and have a sobbing breakdown about how Uli is his only friend and Uli's absence would destroy his life.

All those destructive impulses are eventually pushed aside, and Steban decides he will go to Uli's apartment, to check if there's something wrong with him. Uli has never missed a meeting before. Maybe it's not betrayal yet. Maybe there's something he needs...

When he, an hour later, knocks on Uli's door, Ulixes opens looking perturbed and disheveled, but at least he doesn't seem sick or hurt.

"Hi," Steban says. "You--"

"Oh no. The meeting..." Ulixes looks so caught out and almost frightened that whatever was left of Steban's sense of betrayal immediately evaporates. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to miss it, I've been out all day and... I only just came back here, you have to believe me..."

Steban raises a hand. He doesn't like seeing his friend so anxious. "It's alright. What's going on?"

Ulixes suddenly slumps against the doorframe, his skinny form bending like a defeated reed. "It's Comrade Reading, he's... gone missing."

Ah, yes, Required Reading. Uli's new kitten. Uli's new kitten that Steban is all support for, because Uli having a gentle, non-violence-related hobby must be encouraged... as long as the cat doesn't come close enough to Steban to shed hair on him.

Steban likes houseplants. They're his preferred way of existing alongside nature as a communist should. They're pretty, quiet, predictable, and can be raised according to a manual. They don't yell at him in the middle of the night, or scratch him, or bite him, or break his things, or shit in a box he has to clean, or mess up his cleanly, tidy, pleasant little apartment. Besides, something about this particular cat is... strange. It meows and purrs and cuddles and plays and whatever else the things do, but there's something Steban can't put his finger on that is... weird. The less he sees of it, the better.

Still, if Uli wants a cat, a cat he shall have. If Uli wants to spend every moment of his free time with a cat and not his human best friend who can actually carry a conversation and doesn't smell like litterbox, well... so be it. Who is Steban to question his tastes?

"I opened the door briefly to get the mail and he darted out past me," Ulixes is saying. "I've been looking for him all day."

"Oh," Steban says, then makes an effort to imbue his voice with more sympathy, "I mean... oh."

Now, he expects, is when Uli is going to channel his concern for his pet into rage, the way he usually does, and vow some vague idea of vengeance onto the universe for making this happen to him. Now he'll say something over the top like swearing to murder whoever should dare harm or withhold his cat from him in several grisly and overly specific ways that will leave Steban a mixture of nauseated and fondly exasperated, because it's clear that while Ulixes dreams (in graphic detail) of violence, he has never actually experienced it up close, and these fantasies are just how he copes, and...

"This is all my fault," Ulixes whispers, and Steban is shocked to see his eyes beneath his glasses growing damp, "I'm so bad at this, and now I messed it all up."

He sits down on his desk chair and buries his head in his hands. "Why did I ever think I could take care of something? He could die out there, and it's my fault."

There's nothing for it. Steban's still not exactly fond of the cat, but... seeing Ulixes this quietly devastated turns the world inside out. Steban thinks, I need you like I need my limbs and blood and beating heart, and puts his hand on Uli's shoulder. "We'll look for him together."

----

They make missing posters and print them on campus, and Steban volunteers to help put them up around Uli's neighborhood. They spend the rest of the day looking for Required Reading, even when it gets dark, even when it starts to rain. Eventually, Steban makes Uli take a break. Ulixes resists it, but at some point, he does have to sleep. Steban stays with him as their rain-soaked clothes dry over the heater, and softly reassures him as he drifts into an uneasy sleep.

Two days go by. The rain doesn't let up. Ulixes keeps searching for Required Reading, and Steban supports him, though privately he's beginning to lose hope for the whole endeavor. Revachol is gigantic, and there are myriads of ways for a very small cat to vanish in it. And of course Steban is sad for Uli's sake, because Uli really loved - loves - that cat, and taking care of something small and vulnerable has revealed a new side of him, one that Steban finds intriguing. But... a part of him, a part he tries to ignore because he's not quite comfortable with having it in him to think so lowly, is... not too bothered by the prospect of things going back to how they were before Required Reading appeared. Back when he- when the reading group had Uli's undivided attention. When Uli was focused on him the cause. When Uli would look at him with adoring eyes and--

Stop, Steban tells himself. That's a scummy way to think, and wholly inappropriate when it comes to your comrade. Of course you want him to get his cat back.

He should interrogate that entire train of thought, practice self-critique and remind himself of the incompatibility of Mazovian thought with such... greedy possessiveness. But he's not ready to examine himself in this instance, so he pushes it all down and out of sight.

It's ironic then that, on the third day, Steban finds the cat first.

He's on his way to Uli's apartment. It's still raining and he doesn't have an umbrella, so he's steadily getting soaked through. All he really wants is to get out of the weather. Still, he pauses when he hears, from across the deserted square, a tiny cry, like a baby, or a...

...kitten.

They've pinned one of the missing-cat-posters to a lamppost on the sidewalk here three days ago. Now, under the lamppost, crouched under a soggy, discarded newspaper that offers only scant protection from the elements, there he is, meowing plaintively for help: Required Reading. His fur is plastered to his body with rainwater, but it is him.

(It would be so easy for a passerby to recognize that this is the cat on the poster. Almost as if he sat himself down here on purpose... but surely that's impossible. Cats can't read, or recognize themselves on pictures.)

(Weird.)

Steban shakes his head. It's probably just a coincidence. He'd better scoop the cat up before he runs away, hope he doesn't get his arms scratched up, and bring the little thing home to Uli. Cautiously, he steps closer.

Sigh. Here goes nothing...

Suddenly, he hesitates. A thought unfolds...

Maybe he could just... keep walking. Pretend he didn't see. Ulixes would never know. He'd be sad for a while, but eventually he'd recover, and then they'd spend time in their meetings again like they used to... no more cat hair on his clothes, no more mess, no more having to feign interest in an animal he honestly finds a bit off-putting... and Uli's attention would not waver again, and Steban would never have to ask himself what he even is without Ulixes.

He stands in silence while the rain beats down.

Required Reading has stopped crying. He's seen Steban and, doubtlessly, recognized him. He doesn't scamper up to him like Steban supposed he might. He simply looks at Steban with eyes that seem way too intelligent, and in this moment Steban is convinced that somehow the cat knows what he's thinking. Knows that Steban is considering abandoning him here.

Weird!

Or maybe that's just his conscience?

"This is nonsense," Steban mutters to himself. Of course he's going to bring the cat back to Uli. Because that's the right thing to do, and it'll take the anguish off of Uli's mind, and surely Uli will be so relieved and thankful. Steban can just picture it: his normally reserved friend smiling and hugging Required Reading close to him, and maybe then he'll set the cat down and hug Steban, too, and express his gratitude and regard for how Steban went above and beyond for him... maybe there'd even be a kiss on the cheek in it for him...

But no. Why would there be? Steban is used to kisses from his family members as casual displays of affection, that is just their way, but if Ulixes did that... if Ulixes kissed him on the cheek, it would be different, it would mean something.

Despite the rain, he blushes. What is this thought? What is he considering here? And anyway, he's not supposed to do things because he expects a reward. Again, what an inappropriate thought to have, about a comrade no less. He can't just stand here getting lost in... whatever this is. There's a task to do.

Slowly, carefully, telegraping his movements, he crouches down and reaches for Required Reading. By some miracle, the cat doesn't spook. He lets Steban scoop him up, his small, shivering body almost eclipsed completely by Steban's slender hands.

"Aww, pobrecito," Steban murmurs, dutifully, because that seems like the sort of thing one says. "You're trembling... come here, let's get you home."

"Mrreeep," Required Reading says, huddling closer to Steban's body heat.

Steban tucks him underneath his jacket and continues on his way. It's still pouring down upon him, and the cat sneezes into his armpit, but he barely notices, his head swimming with thoughts of what awaits him: the warm and dry apartment, maybe some hot coffee, the opportunity to bring Ulixes a wonderful surprise, the dread and self-recriminations leaving his comrade's face and being replaced with joy, the feel of his body pressed against Steban's in an exuberant embrace, the gentle rasp of his beard against Steban's own stubble when the--

Hm.

As Required Reading, bundled up under his jacket, starts to purr, Steban begins his struggle to contend with the fact that, apart from everything else he's got going on already, he now apparently dreams of his comrade's kiss.

#answer'd #three people in total requested this prompt. and i will do it thrice!!! #disco elysium #steban the student communist #ulixes #required reading (the cat) #i stayed up until 6am to write this please clap #writings by me

[the-soliloquies-of-sadists]

#340

“Boy where are you going?  And who told you that you may wear clothes again?  Certainly not me.  Get naked, your work has just begun.  What? You thought that you would have the honor of being a urinal to me and my friends at one of my parties and that was it?  Fuck that.  You were brought here for the needs of the party, and you got paid with piss.  Come with me in the house.  Leave the mess for tomorrow….

“…So did you have a good time drinking our piss?  You sure as hell stink of it.  You’ve been wearing it all night, so you are probably used to it.  It’s fucking giving me a raging boner.  Nothing gets me more than walking into a rest stop shithouse or a locker room and it reeking of piss.  Add my cigar smoke to the mix, and I am so boned up.

“This way.  Oh look, Bevins and Dewey are passed out over there.  They are going to be hung over when they wake up.  One of your jobs is to give them a good breakfast, some strong coffee, and your holes to use.  Bevins will probably fuck you.  I have never seen one man fuck so much; you’d swear that he spent more time hard than he was soft. 

“Oh my god, Dewey pissed his pants.  Look at that….  Get down there and suck some of the piss out of it.  He’s passed out.  If he was awake, he would be demanding you do just that.  The only difference is that his piss is probably ice cold.  Get down there….

“Fuck yeah.  Grind your face in there.  Feel his dick?  It’s fucking huge, isn’t it?  And keep in mind, that’s soft.  It’s one of the fattest cocks I have ever seen.  You certainly drank from it tonight.  I don’t know if that’s when we had funnels in your holes, or after we took them out and drained your ass.  I don’t think he would have fucked you when we converted your ass from urinal duty into a working cunt.  He would have ripped you up good.

“Wanna see?  Go on, take his cock out….  Go on.  He would love it.  I have ridden with this man for fifteen years.  He, Bevins, and I have a long, long history of using faggots.  Trust me, if he woke up with your mouth around his dick, he would belch and fart and then think of it as a start of a good day….

“Let’s get his jeans around his ankles.  You take that side, and on the count of three.  One, two,… three!  Again!...  Hell yeah!  If he wasn’t wearing his boots, we could take them off.  I would love to shove his skanky piss-soaked skid marked underwear in your mouth when I fuck you.

“Told you he was big.  Those balls are legendary, as is that dick.  Go on skin him back; let’s see what you get to clean under that hood….  Jesus fuck!  That’s nasty.

“Go on.  Don’t hesitate now.  You have done an amazing job tonight drinking all that piss, then taking load after load in your cunt.  This is nothing.  You do this, I will be inviting you back.  Hell, Dewey will probably claim you as his when he sees what good of a job you do.  Not many faggots can meet his nasty expectations.  Atta fag! 

“Keep sucking on that limp dick of his.  This is so damned hot.  Spread your legs.  This is not going to take long.  Don’t let him slip out no matter how hard I slam your cunt.

“Damn you are sloppy back here.  There’s easily a dozen loads in here.  Fuck, it feels so good.  That’s it!  Moan into his dick.  You fucking whore.  You goddamned piss-drinking whore.  You live to be two fucking holes for men to use.  And we are going to do that.  You will take nut after nut.  Just like a whore.  Oh man, keep moaning like a bitch.  Daddy is going to dump in you real good.  I bet you want to be owned.  Don’t you, you slut? 

“Did you just moan your yes?...  Faggot, cunt!  I own you now.  Every aspect of your life now belongs to me.  I’m so close.  And the one thing I do to every cunt I own, I brand them with my cigar. 

“Scream!  Scream into his dick.  Ahhhhh! Ahhhhh!  Fuck!  Fuck!  Damn!  Fuck, you almost snapped my dick off when you clamped down.  You got my load to add to your cunt stew.  Hold still.  I need to drain my bladder.

“Oh fuck.  What a night.  Ahhhh.  There it goes.  When we get to bed, I will plug you so you can have this load in you until morning….  That doesn’t look like I went deep at all to give you a proper brand.  After we get you installed in your new role in life, we’ll make sure you are branded the way that owned toilet faggot cunts should be.

“Clamp down; I’m pulling out.  Good boy.  With all that action back there, I am amazed you have such control over your muscles back here. 

“Pull off Dewey and stand up.  Come here give me a kiss….  Yup, just like kissing a sewer.  You did good tonight….  Fuck, I don’t even know your name.  Don’t need to either.  Let’s go to bed.  I need a good night’s sleep.  Your job is not over.  You are going to rim me to sleep.  Let’s go.

“Oh fuck.  You are dripping down your leg.  Let’s get that plugged up.”

[my-lord-khonshu]

Swallow’s Flight

**Update:** I made up a name for this fic. We’re going with this name. Also, there is an 18+ follow up to this fic with smut. If you’re a minor, don’t read it (and don’t look at the rest of my blog please).

I have no beta reader, we’re doing this blind because I wrote this on impulse. I never write fanfiction so go easy on me.

This is because of a chain of posts where @johnny-simpfinger said “ You guys think he’d ever just scoop ya up and take you for a romantic fly in the clouds among the stars” and now I’m going to write about it.

Reader is gender neutral in this (although I’m AFAB and I sort of modeled the reactions after myself?) and Khonshu’s avatar, no smut, just fluff and some angst because being the fist of Khonshu isn’t easy.

You rarely got a vacation. If you weren’t studying, you were at Khonshu’s side. Gods know how you had managed to keep it together for this long. You couldn’t tell if it was Khonshu’s blessing or coffee that got you through the days.

Of course, when you had asked for a weekend to go camping, Khonshu threw a tantrum. Heavens forbid that his fist of vengeance got tired of the city and wanted to leave.

“I refuse. You pledged yourself to me, little swallow. Your place is here,” he fumed.

“Khonshu, I have been going out almost every single night after murderers and traffickers in your name. While studying for and finishing my exams, mind you,” you sighed, rolling your eyes at the god.

Naturally, he didn’t like your snark. The air swirled around you as the lights flickered and your coffee mug spilled over.

“Darn it, I just made that. Could you stop acting like a child for five seconds? I deserve one weekend to myself.”

You walked over to the kitchen to grab a towel to clean up the mess. Khonshu loomed over you.

“Little swallow, I have allowed you your mortal life, but as long as you live, you belong to me. I have only indulged you since you remain in close proximity to our enemies.”

“And I have snuffed out the lives of our enemies and carved crescents into their skin as a warning to those who would follow in their depravity,” you spat back at him. “I told you, I am going camping. Alone. It is the least you could do for me after our last job.”

You walked past him and knelt on the floor to clean up your drink. You gripped the towel tightly as you remembered the fight you had two weeks ago.

You had been tracking the traffickers for months, and finally you had found where their boss had kept their “prized stock”. So many young women trapped by those monsters.

In a fit of rage, you had slashed through anyone who stood in your way. You wanted this to end tonight.

You’d been careless. You freed the women and rushed them out the emergency exit, but in your single-minded desire to save them, you didn’t account for reinforcements showing up.

You remembered the way the bullets had riddled your skin and how your body was dragged in front of their leader. They pushed you onto your knees and tore off the wrappings covering your face.

“So, this is the scum that has been lurking around our operation? How does it feel to play hero now?” he gloated.

You were delirious but you still had enough focus to spit at his feet. Blood mixed with saliva soaked into his loafers. See how easily that washes out, you bastard. You smirked at the thought.

The man glowered at you and kicked your stomach. You doubled over and he took his foot and planted it onto your head, grinding it into the concrete. “You think that’s funny, you bitch?”

“What’s funny is that I actually needed that to jolt me awake.” You grabbed his ankle and threw him against the wall.

The rest of the night was a blur. You remember flashes of anger and pain. Broken bones and screams cut short.

The one thing you do remember clearly is that man’s face, filled with fear as you held him up by the neck, his hands grasping at yours trying to get free. The bodies of his men were littered around you.

Khonshu appeared to you at the end of the alleyway. You looked into his eye sockets and you knew he was pleased with your work. You weren’t sure if you were glad or disgusted with yourself, but you knew what you needed to do.

You took your knife and stabbed it into the man’s stomach, pressing slowly and twisting it in his gut. “That is for me.”

You grabbed the knife and pulled it out of him before stabbing it back into his chest. “And that is for Emily. And THAT is for Alessandra. And-”

You listed name after name, driving the knife into the man over and over again. You weren’t sure what time it is when you were done, but you saw the first glow of the dawn reach the sky and felt the power of the moon wane.

You dropped the man’s body to the ground and let the suit around you dissolve. Then you fell to your knees and sobbed. You watched as your tears fell to the ground, mixing with the blood you had spilled.

Khonshu stood in front of you. He put his hand under your chin and tilted your head up to look at him. “It is over now, my swallow. Those serpents will not harm anyone ever again. Their leader is gone and their organization in tatters. I am truly proud of you.”

You glared at him. “I’m not.”

You knocked away his hand and rose to your feet. You stumbled away, not knowing where you were going, but anywhere was fine as long as Khonshu was not within your sight. Your wounds may have healed, but the way you felt after that night was more difficult to mend.

You hadn’t spoken to Khonshu until you saw him again today and asked him to go camping alone. You weren’t sure if it was because you were mad at him or mad at the monster inside yourself that reared its head that night.

That night was not just a mission to protect the helpless. It was also a slaughter. And you had loved every second of it.

He didn’t lurk in the hallways outside of your exam rooms like he used to do. Maybe he had thought twice about being proud of you. Maybe he was also ashamed to have you as his avatar.

You tried not to think too hard on it and buried yourself in your books, trying to cloak yourself in your normal, average university life.

You were jolted out of your thoughts when Khonshu rested your hand on your shoulder. “Allow me,” he said, kneeling beside you and prying your fingers from the bunched-up towel.

Could he tell what I was thinking about? You knew that he saw into your mind the first time you had met, but you weren’t sure how much Khonshu had done that since.

You watched as Khonshu cleaned up the coffee and rose to rinse the towel at your kitchen sink. Since when does he do things like this for me? The god’s mood shifted like the phases of the moon, but never had he done something nice for you. It was always you that served him.

You pulled your chair away from the table and sat. Khonshu turned and said, “Very well. If it is what you wish, you may have this…camping trip. On one condition.”

“Which is?” you asked.

“You do not go alone. I will be with you. In case I need to take you back to the city to continue our work.”

You sighed. Of course, he would stipulate something like this. So much for a relaxing vacation.

“Fine, but you’re sitting in the back seat. If you can even fit into my car.”

The drive was a nightmare. Khonshu had altered his height, so he indeed did fit into your car. However, he was the worst backseat driver on the planet. It would be funny how concerned he was for your propensity to drive 20 kilometers per hour above the highway speed limit if it wasn’t absolutely irritating.

“Why does a god care about speeding? You literally can appear anywhere on the planet in a split second. Talk about being over the speed limit,” you scoffed.

“Because it would be an inconvenience if your mortal police force were to see your flagrant disregard for the law,” he griped.

“We’re in the middle of nowhere. Do you see a car in front of me or behind me? No? Then shush, you old bird,” you hissed back.

When you got to the campsite, you immediately got to work unpacking and pitching your tent. Khonshu stood by and watched you, having grown back to his normal size.

“Okay, if you insist on just standing there, you might as well be useful. Here, set up the tarp, it might rain.” You handed him the rolled-up plastic tarp and rope.

“What do I do with this?” He tilted his head, confused.

“You’re taller than me. Plus, you’re an almighty god, aren’t you? Figure it out.”

“I do not understand-”

“Take the rope and tie the tarp at all corners to the trees so the tarp hangs slanted over my tent, and gravity carries the water off one corner, and I don’t get soaked, okay?” You gestured agitatedly with your hands, trying to convey what you meant.

“I’m not a good fist of vengeance if I get a cold, right?” That was all you were to him. A pawn for him to keep close by so you could serve him. You used to accept your role, but now you wish you hadn’t so readily agreed.

By the time the sun started to set, you had a complete tent and Khonshu had managed to hang the tarp. That, and grumble for an hour about how his fingers were too thick to tie the knots.

You chopped up the firewood you brought and lit your campfire. When the fire had reduced to embers, you threw some tinfoil wrapped potatoes in and started to grill some vegetables over a pan on the grate that came with the firepit.

You gazed up at the sky and your eyes narrowed as you spotted the dark storm clouds on the horizon. You saw a flash of lightning between the clouds and heard the distant rumble of thunder.

“Of course, a 30% chance of rain means not a drizzle,” you complained.

You turned your head back down to the fire, turning the vegetables so they wouldn’t burn. You felt the wind suddenly pick up and your hair whip around.

You looked up and no longer saw any clouds in the sky. It was a perfectly clear evening.

“What just happened? I swear that…” Your voice trailed off as you turned to look at Khonshu. The god almost looked sheepish. As if he was caught red handed.

Okay, now there is something really wrong with this bird brain.

If you had asked Y/N to describe the god, there would be a few insults like “toddler” and “empty skulled”. Followed by “wrathful”, “powerful”, and “unforgiving”.

Praise came rarely from him. It needed to be earned. Favours were reserved for actions that helped you take revenge on those who harmed the innocent.

Cleaning up spilled coffee? Surprising. Clearing the sky of a storm? Either Khonshu wanted to be imprisoned by the Ennead for encroaching on Set’s domain or…he actually cared.

You swiftly turned your head away from him and focused on your dinner, trying not to blush.

You were lying down on the grass, gazing up in wonder at the stars. The harsh streetlights and digital billboards back home blocked out all of the Milky Way, but here it was before your eyes.

You heard Khonshu approach and set his staff down on the ground. He sat down and copied you, lying down and looking up at the night sky with you. A full moon was rising, and you wondered if Khonshu had also exerted his influence to strengthen its silver light.

“It’s beautiful,” you marveled. “I needed this.”

You lay there in silence again until Khonshu spoke. “I am sorry, little swallow. For leaving you alone these past weeks. I thought you needed time to focus and to conclude your affairs with your education, but I see now I was wrong.”

You turned to look at the god. “I was angry. At first, I thought it was because of you, because what I did for you, but I chose to do that and I’m just as much of a monster as them and I-“

Your voice cut off as Khonshu pulled you into a hug. Your breath caught in your throat. You had never been so close to the god before.

“My little swallow. You are not a monster. You are more beautiful than the heavens above us. You forget the good you did that night, of the women you saved. You are always too quick to forget the good inside of you. Whether it is with your mortal life or at my side as my fist.”

He was right. You had hated your life before you met Khonshu, despising every shortcoming you perceived, no matter the size. Back when you had a therapist, she told you that blocking out the good things you do from your mind was called “disqualifying the positive”.

But can you still be good when you were a murderer, even if the ones you killed were also criminals?

“I feel the struggle inside of you to reconcile what your mortal society has raised you to believe, with serving me faithfully,” he remarked. “But know this my swallow; I will never lead you astray. I will always be here to protect you and protect those who walk in my moonlight.”

He took your hand and pulled you up with him as he stood. “I have something to show you.”

Khonshu opened his other hand and held it under the full moon’s light. A necklace with a crescent moon charm materialized, as if moonlight had crystalized in his hand.

He let go of your hand and took the silver chain so he could reach around to place the necklace around your neck. Your hand reached up to touch the charm. Despite seeming like it was made of metal and you had witnessed him conjure it out of moonlight, it was warm against your fingers.

“W-what is this?” you stammered.

“A reminder that I am grateful for your faith in me, and that I am proud of you, little swallow. Never doubt that,” Khonshu reassured you.

He took your hands in his again. “There is another thing I would like to show you.”

You felt the suit wrapping around your body, but this time leaving the necklace around your neck and your face clear.

Without warning, Khonshu started to fly up into the sky, pulling you with him. In shock, you clung tightly to him.

“Uh Khonshu, what is happening?! I am not the best with being this high up-”

He shushed you and leaned in closer to you. “I told you I will never lead you astray. I won’t let you fall.”

You were positive that your cheeks were bright red at his words. Once your breathing had steadied, you took a second to look around.

You were flying with him above the treetops, and you could see the moon’s reflection in the glistening water of the nearby lake. The stars seemed brighter, and the cool night air caressed your face.

Slowly, Khonshu began to let go of your hands. You panicked and tried to get in closer to him once more. He chuckled.

“You are my little swallow. You can fly on your own as well.”

That was news to you, seeing as humans normally did not fly by themselves. You mentally pinched yourself since you were literally the avatar of an Egyptian god. Weirder things have happened.

You took a deep breath and let go of Khonshu’s hands. Your body continued to fly alongside his in sync. He was right. He wouldn’t let you fall.

Your bodies glided through the sky together along the path of the Milky Way. Every turn Khonshu made, you matched, and you began to gain confidence with your new ability. You started to spin and dive on your own, letting out a cry of joy as you experienced the freedom that came with flight.

Khonshu’s mouth never moved but you swear that if he could, he would be smiling at you.

You flew back up to where he was waiting for you, and you continued your flight. Both of your arms were stretched out, your fingertips brushing against each other.

You soared over the lake with him, and you saw your shadowy forms reflected in the water.

“I must admit, I was wrong to have opposed this trip,” Khonshu conceded.

“Oh so, now you’re fine with giving me some time to myself? Ungrateful pigeon,” you quipped.

“Careful, little swallow. I said I would not let you fall, but that does not mean that your flight will always be peaceful.”

The winds started to pick up and you cursed at him as your glide became shaky. “Khonshu, you are the most insufferable being to walk this planet!”

He laughed and flew in to carry you in his arms. Clearly, he did not struggle against the wind.

On impulse, you kissed his beak. That shut up his laughter and the winds died down again.

You and he stayed like that together for a while, hovering in the air while being bathed in the moonlight.

#moon knight #khonshu #khonshu x reader #khonshu x you #bruh if i was in this night flight situation i'd melt

[xxanaduwrites]

DOWNFALL (a.b.)

main hub of all important thangs

chapter 2

had it been another day i might have looked the other way and i'd have never been aware but as it is i'll dream of her tonight - i've just seen a face, the beatles

——

Canada! Beer!

And.....

A girl woke up.

Nothing like good ol' Michael Kelso screaming on your television about smuggling Canadian beer while proceeding to press a loud ass blow horn — quite proudly, might I add —to stir you from your slumber. And people enjoyed proclaiming that the perfect wake up call didn't exist. I begged to differ.

Welp, that explained the weird ass dreams I had. Syd must have kept the television on while I slept. If she didn't go to bed — so help me God! I swore she drove me up the wall when she stayed up super late and then proceeded to go to work at the ass crack of dawn. How did she manage to stay awake? I wished I knew. I'd clock out if I was her — which now, as I took a good look at myself, I must have done just that last night.

Beautiful.

Finally getting the willpower to actually sit up in bed, I felt all the blood rush to my head. With a groan, I mentally scolded myself that I'd never drink again. Especially when I knew I dreamt up the whole night. For a moment, everything, and I mean literally everything came flooding back into my brain. I winced as I relived the interaction I had with Mr. breathtakingly-beautiful-Ken-Apollo. I cannot believe I actually cackled like a horse. Christ, I could already hear the familiar sound echoing in my ears which only made my head pound ten times harder. I pinched my forehead with my fingers and squeezed my eyes shut to dislodge the memory from my brain cells and excavate the pain.

Yep, he most definitely was not real. I imagined that shit. No one would ever just stand there — let alone stand next to someone like me and fucking talk to me deliberately— looking like that. Absolutely not.

Solid.

Good talk, brain cells.

At least that made me feel a little better, convincing myself that it never happened to absolutely get rid of every trace of embarrassment I unfortunately possessed. I'd never see him again, so none of it mattered, especially when he was a figment of my imagination. See what I did there?

It was absolute torture trying to remove myself from the safe haven I called my bed. Or my boyfriend. Whichever you prefer would be considered suitable enough. I could never pass up a date when it had the most deliciously comfortable comforter ever known to man. At least I believed so. I even had one of those stupid pajama sets you'd find on pinterest from my teens when mustaches were all the rage and all that keep calm shit. Fucking embrassing. But, man did I enjoy wearing that set in front of Sydney, especially when she dragged a guy in the apartment. Shit was funny. She unfortunately did not think so. Must be why she hasn't invited Broccoli Rabe over, but I could only assume, ya know?

I took my walk of shame out of my room and down the hall where the shower greeted my arrival. The tile was cold, and it spurred my eyes open to actually clean off the stench and sweat I collected from last night. How I managed to not notice that my body was still strung up in the simple black dress I tossed on, I didn't know. I was at least glad I made it to my bed in one piece. After showering, letting the hot water relax my tense muscles, and taking the time to thoroughly untangle the mess that became my hair, I dressed in a casual pair of jeans and a button up shirt, putting my hair up – because truly who wanted to deal with that friz ass mess of mine? I already took a billion years to get ready with the exhaustion still seeping into my bones and the headache I couldn't get rid of. I needed tylenol and coffee.

Coffee.

God, I could use a fucking coffee and not just from my simple Keurig machine. I needed real coffee. I needed the shit that lightened up my mood. Sunshine Spot was the place to be, and I sure as fuck needed to head there right now. Nothing was gonna stop me! Well, except for Sydney.

"The corpse has arisen from her ten year slumber!" I didn't even notice her at first, typing away on her computer at the island when I reached for my keys. "How are you feeling, darling?"

"Awful," I groaned, sagging my shoulders with extra emphasis. "Got any tylenol?"

"Already on the counter." She directed my attention to the water and pill on the counter with her pen grasped firmly with her hand. It was then that I noticed she was taking notes. Why wasn't she in the office? Would have been funnier if she did some Alice and WonderLand shit, I thought as I gulped back the pill. That whole eat me, drink me shit. But, it wasn't a good time to make a funky comment, especially when she was busy working. "Figured you'd feel a little funky this morning. Shocked you're up though. You wouldn't believe the shit I went through when I had to bring you home passed out and -"

"The fuck?" I almost spit out my water. What the fuck was she going on about? No, there was no way I passed out.

"Oh right." She stifled a laugh as she dragged the back of her pen across her bottom lip. Seemed like she figured this was common knowledge to me. "You kind of passed out honey. This stupid dude was walking down the stairs, tripped, fell on his ass, and knocked right into you while you were waiting for me to come back. To put it frankly, you went down."

"Oh good God. Don't tell me that." I held my head back, pinching the bridge of my nose.

Guess I couldn't say I dreamed it all when that happened. Jesus, I could only hope the flawless Ken doll didn't catch a glimpse of me hitting the floor. Maybe in some predictable fantasy I could imagine him sweeping me off my feet before I hit the floor, but even that sounded crazy. Guys nowadays would just watch you hit the floor. Sure could attest to that with William Williamson. A story for another time. But, again. Who the fuck was in charge of naming these people? William Williamson seriously. Stupid. Very unoriginal. Could they not think of anything else. I supposed not. Dude went by Billy Williamson, but that wasn't even better. Everyone knew where his first name derived from. Wouldn't need a rocket scientist to figure that one out.

"Sorry," she said meekly, raising her hands in defense before diving back onto her computer.

"Thanks for taking care of me. Hope I wasn't too much of a tassel hassle," I sing-songed for good measure.

"Of course." Her eyes looked blood shot as she stared back at the screen in full focus. How she managed to dive right back in on command was insane to me. I always needed to ease myself back into work when it came down to it. Took her a moment, but then she let out a snort. "Tassel hassle."

"Syd, please don't tell me you didn't sleep last night," I started sternly, reaching for my tote back on the coat rack, making sure everything I needed was still inside. I wore the shit out of this thing. I couldn't tell you how the seams stayed in tack this long, but they did. In other words, you could say I destroyed this poor thing, but she was still kicking.

"I won't then." She didn't dare look at me when I spun back around, almost dropping all my shit on the floor. "Doesn't matter anyways. Dr. Reignus told us we could work from home today. He figured we'd all be toasted. Are you going to the bookstore today, or what? What's on the agenda?"

Reignus. Again. What was up with Los Angeles and their inhabitants' names?

I adjusted my strap on my shoulders, trying to take in all the words Syd piled out of her mouth. How she had this much energy at 9am. A girl would never know. "You sound like a mother with all the questions. Don't worry I will be home before the clock strikes twelve. Wouldn't want to turn into a pumpkin or anything. Or maybe I do? You could make a damn good pie."

"Oh shut up!" She choked out, adjusting her glasses on the bridge of her nose. "It's too early for this."

"What's the dish on Broccoli Rabe?" I switched subjects effortlessly. "Since you're home today, why didn't you guys fuck around last night or something?"

"Well, I was taking care of you." She chewed on the top of her pen as she gazed at me furrowing a brow. "Plus, I have work to do."

"Uh-Uh." I wagged my finger back and forth like a whole dog. "Don't deflect. Way before I hit the hay — you were itching to get out of there as soon as I found you. I may have been drunk, but I have a solid noggin. Remember, watermelon brain?"

She sighed, dropping her pen on the table and ramming her fingers into her temples out of pure stress. "He's confusing. That's all."

Did I hit the wrong nail? I suddenly felt awful for bringing it up. "Brock is probably a rock. Might just take a little longer to crack him open, but don't give up."

She smiled, but it didn't fully match her face. "I won't. Thanks Ri. You always have such a way with words." She broke out a soft chuckle. "Now I gotta get back to work, can you fuck off for a bit? Rather not think of him for longer than I have to."

"Of course! Toodaloo." And then I was out the door, ready to start the day. Whoopie.

Coffee. Right. On a mission for coffee. How could I forget?

Thank my lord and savior Eric Forman once again that the Sunshine Spot was within walking distance from my job. Truly a delight — if I must say. Workers knew me by name and shit. It reminded me of Gilmore Girls — channeling my inner Lorelai Gilmore and all. I always wished I was as cool as her. A legend.

Welp to sum it all up to the best of my abilities, I did the whole internship shabackle that Sydney got wrapped up into, but my experience wasn't as peachy as her's was. I hated corporate America — I still do. Explained why I didn't want to be at that dumb ass party, but Sydney guilted me, claiming she was far too nervous. But basing a majority of the events that circulated during the night, she was all over the place — being the social butterfly we all knew and loved. Not once did she need me, but of course I'd go for her. That's what friends were for. Plus, I had to keep my eye out on Dwayne and his douchery. Gotta do my service as an American and all.

To put it frankly — remember that dude Billy Williamson — yeah William Williamson. That douche burger was one of those rat bastards that made my life a living hell. So much for being a woman in literature. Truly a drag. Especially when there were men dictating every move I made — totally debunking every manuscript I found interesting. This led me to send out the most boring pieces I've ever landed my eyeballs on, all to satisfy my big-buck-dick-head bosses.

Fucking hated that shit.

Not my feng shui — if you will.

So yeah, that was how I ended up at Marlon's book store. God, did I love that old man. Sweetest dude I ever met in my entire life. His store could be considered a national treasure — it carried everything. And I mean everything. One day I took Marilyn there. She was already gushing when she walked through the door at not just the books but the little cute old man himself with his old school glasses. She thought he held so much swag. I let her believe so.

And it sure became 'a hunk a hunk of burning love' as both Mar and Mar loved to describe it. Disgustingly cute. Jesus though, I rather not know what those old peeps do in their free time. I should probably start sanitizing the shelves. Or dust a little more frequently.

Drop that thought, Ri.

Yikes, I was feening for a coffee.

Badly.

I swore all the weight drifted off my body and my whole soul bursted out of me and flew up to the heavens when Sunshine Spot finally came into view. It normally wasn't the worst walk of my life — but today wasn't normal.

The cute little cheesy bell rang as I walked through my favorite place, meeting the face of my favorite work-a-holic. Wait, I might of lied about Marlon being the cutest cause who the fuck could forget about Sherry Blossom— people say it was her stage name back in the day, but when it came to Sherry there was no room for questioning. She was simply an enigma. This woman right here was eighty-fucking-five still working up a storm at Sunshine cafe. I swore she's been here since the day the doors opened at this little gem of a place.

Once she told me, "Never let people look at you like you're some old sack of shit that can't move a muscle anymore. When people drop their opinions all over the place — where they are surely not needed or even wanted — I just say, 'If you think you're throwing me in some old people's home, you got another thing coming for you. Yep, that's a threat.'"

Cracked me the fuck up.

Alright, alright. So, I had one friend my age and then some elders.

Leave me alone.

"There she is!" Sherry's cheerful voice that she only seemed to have reserved for me — as from what I was told by her coworkers — welcomed me. "My girl. How are you?"

"Howdy girl. Could be better," I sulked, tossing my tote on a stool and plopping myself on the one right next to it.

She stopped what she was doing the moment she took in that my 'howdy wasn't as enthusiastic as it usually whenever I saw her. "What's the matter?" She dropped the towel she was wiping the table with, giving me her full attention.

What an angel.

I adjusted myself awkwardly in the stool, my head leaning on my hand, my arm resting on the table — my body on a whole angle like I fucked some protractor. "Unfortunately I'm a teenie-weenie bit hungover." I maneuvered my other hand, eyeing it in front of my face as I measured the distance between my thumb and middle finger to emphasize my point. Her eyes lit up for a moment, taking in my words but I was quick to debunk her thoughts. "But, don't worry. I never wanted to go to said party in the first place, and nothing too awful happened. I just passed out but -"

Ah, geometry. A beautiful thing.

"You passed out?!" Lord Jesus, that woman had some real pipes. Every head under the sun turned. Just great. "Are you okay? Lemme have a look at your face." She dived forward, not even bothering to ask  before she was taking me all in — holding both sides of my head to dissect my face. She turned my head in every which way like some voodoo doll, but how could I complain when she cared so much for me? More than most. We were close enough so I didn't really mind. I'd come here for years. She helped me when I was sat here crying my eyes out over some stupid professor that was being a dick to me, and even helped me get the fuck out of that dick of an internship with her perfect convincing. "You poor thing. Hit up the coffee pot stat — my girl needs a glass!" She called out to no one in particular and shockingly everyone behind the counter moved — no one hesitated. She was that powerful. What a woman. Another human that was on the list of my legends — the same one as Lorelai Gilmore, and I supposed Eric Forman if you felt obligated to include him.

In two seconds flat, a beautiful iced coffee — just the way I liked it, sat beautifully in front of me. So pretty, I didn't even want to touch it, but man I needed a fix. "You're incredible." I licked my lips, staring right at the glass in amazement, mesmerized by the way the ice sat against the liquid.

"Anything for you." She blushed madly. "Going to work today or hanging out for a little while?"

Pulling out my phone, I checked the time. Marlon was way too fucking chill about scheduling. He honestly couldn't care less about when I came in, but I still hated not being on time. But, noting my current predicament, I figured I'd just shoot him a little text that I'd be late today. I genuinely did not want to deal with customers complaining. Not when my head was still pounding, and I was waiting for the tylenol to kick in. "I can stay for a tad."

"Good." She reached out, grasping my hand. Leaning forward she nodded at me to move forward as if she was gonna tell me a secret. "These customers today are already driving me fucking nuts. I'm sorry but who orders a burger at seven in the morning and complains about it being well done when they asked for that shit when they ordered. Not our fault. Idiot. Thank goodness you're here."

Don't get confused. The place is an enigma just like Blossom. It was everything you could imagine. A cafe/diner — practically a six piece restaurant all wrapped into one cute little place. Sometimes Los Angeles could be amazing, but only for this. Gotta love Sunshine Spot.

I forgot my lips were attached to the straw and I blew fucking bubbles in response. The bubbled up liquid shot out the sides and landed on the table, serving up a whole mess. "Guess you can add me to that list of f-" I got cut off by a bell from the back.

"Sher!" A girl called from behind the counter. "Could you take this one — I got my hands full." She wasn't lying. Two trays stacked with so much food for a whole army.

But, that didn't seem to please Sher. She just rolled her eyes. "I gotta do everything around here." She lifted up the rag in her hand and waved it madly. "Oh and look, I gotta deal with this schmuck staring at his phone. If the order gets fucked up it's not my probem. Pay attention," she whispered so no one else could hear.

I loved this woman.

I watched as she trailed off a few seats away, huffing as she proceeded to aggressively flip her pad to write down some dude's order. For a moment my smile was infectious, burning against my cheeks as I watched one of my favorite ladies do her thang. But then, as I looked over some more I became acutely aware of the dude she was serving. Why the fuck did he look so familair?

What was it?

Think Rianne.

Hmmm. Sandy blonde hair. Black Shades. Alright. Light denim button up. Black shorts. White sneakers. Button nose. Half buttoned top. Gold chain.

Wait a fucking minute?

Intermission.

Move your hand, you bitch.

I needed to know if it was him.

Dude's pointer finger was stuck behind his phone.

Whatever. Probably not who I thought it was anyways. Stop losing your marbles Rianne.

Nope. Nevermind. Act two. Holy fucking shit.

It was him.

Ken-greek-god-lifeguard-model-surfer-beach-boy-hot-shot extraordinaire.

Didn't need the ring to know when I once again had the full range of that glorious side profile I practically had embedded into my memory somehow from the night before. Thanks to the lords he took off his shades. Guess my drunken brain was quite fond of him — but how could I blame her when he looked like that? Jesus, he looked even better in the daytime, etched in the sun instead of those idiotic disco lights that could give you the worst headache of your life.

If only he'd look up from that phone, I could see his eyes — or that ring. Oh God, He put his phone away. The ring. There it is, confirming it all. Ding. Ding. People, I feared we had a winner! Now, his eyes scanned the joint.

I cannot do this right now.

Immediately, I panicked, stopping the first server in front of me that passed by. "Menu." I hissed quite lowly, keeping my head down.

"Huh?" They looked at me like I'd just emitted a noise instead of speaking a real word.

"Menu," I hissed again — a little louder this time, but not loud enough that it would draw any unwanted attention — keeping my head down.

Whatever you do, don't make eye contact.

"Didn't you already order?" They looked at me quizzically. I raised a brow. They didn't question me further.

Snatching the menu off the table, I held up the monstrosity up to my face like a whole shield. Perfect. Amazing. If I won't see him, he won't see me.

Solid logic.

"The hell you doing back there?" My girl Sher's voice suddenly boomed from behind my menu of shield, making me almost jump out of my seat. Her cute little wrinkled up manicured finger suddenly came into view — attempting to push down the menu so she could see my face.

I tried to come up with a good excuse, but it wasn't great. "Researching," I spat out.

"That's strange, but alright. If you find out what they put in the gravy, let me know. I mean I already do, but it would be fun if you found that out." She sounded a little distant, but I didn't dare move — my heart pounding a mile a minute. "See. Shouldn't have drank that alcohol. You don't only gotta worry about your liver, but your brain. Fucks it all up."

"Thanks for the advice," I murmured while trying to take a peak over the menu only to see eyes I never got a chance to see before taking in our interaction. Holy shit were they blue. He even looked confused as hell. Yep, I looked like a crazy woman again in front of him — lovely.

Abort mission. Abort mission.

"Bye Sher! I gotta go." And then I bounced right out. Dropping the menu, grabbing my tote, and sprinting out the door without another look.

That was a close one.

"I thought you were-" I heard her begin, but her words caught off as soon as the door swung close and that oh so familiar bell rang in my ears. God, that was gonna leave a mark on my brain now. Delish. Perfect. Amazing.

Nope, never again. Not gonna see him again, but damn that was kinda crazy.

——

anotha one for my peeps. you can run, but ya can't hide, riri ;)

citing my sources of course. just ri ri waking up to literally kelso being kelso:

- xanadu

#austin butler #austin butler fanfiction #austin butler fanfic #austin butler fandom #austin butler fans #austin butler elvis presley #wattpad #fanfic

[bandzhoe9194]

This is a one shot I wrote for my 30 Day writing challenge and I wanted to post it here lol It's a BasicallyIDo407, the prompt was "use the words kitchen, date and music"

It'd been a bad day for both Scotty and Marcel. They'd both been playing GTA with Nogla, Brock and Evan, which is where it started.

Nogla was extra annoying that day, insults flying more than usual and Marcel found himself screaming more than usual. Brock even got into it, cursing once or twice to get Nogla to shut up.

Eventually, Brock rage quit and left the call, leaving Evan, Scotty and Marcel to deal with him and Scotty and Marcel just kept screaming. Nogla was just too fucking much that day.

Scotty left first, slamming his hands down on the desk in front of him. He groaned in frustration, rubbing his forehead and heading into the kitchen.

He put some coffee on, leaning against the counter rubbing his temples. He could still hear Marcel screaming in his recording room and sighed. He looked around the kitchen a moment, frowning thoughtfully.

He wanted to make things better, and whats better than an impromptu date in their kitchen? He nodded to himself and dug through the cabinets, wondering what he could make.

They had a few boxes of velveeta mac and cheese, and some chili, so maybe some chili mac? They always went simple for dinner after recording, especially when dealing with Nogla.

He hummed a mindless tune as he cooked, wincing as he heard Marcel screech again. Scotty was really impressed that Marcel had hung out this long, but he also knew he enjoyed screaming at Nogla when he wanted to.

Scotty grabbed his phone and went to the Bluetooth speaker, wondering what kind of music would make Marcel laugh when he came back. He clicked his playlist of early 2000's pop and grinned at Sean Kingstons Fire Burning.

He danced to himself, stirring the mac and cheese and preparing the chili. He tilted his head curiously, glancing down the hall before rushing out the front door. He snuck over to the neighbors house, picking a single rose off their bush before rushing back home, relieved to see Marcel was still recording.

He set the rose down and finished dinner, mixing the chili into the mac and cheese and setting it aside to cool a bit. He served up some plates, dancing along to Low and dropping it occasionally to the song. He giggled to himself, shaking his hips as he moved about the kitchen.

"Yeah baby, shake that ass for me," he heard behind him and he spun around surprised, grinning at Marcel who was leaning against the wall watching him.

Scotty danced over to him, moving extra proactively just to shimmy against Marcel's chest. Marcel laughed, making Scotty laugh as he dropped down and slowly slid back up, shaking his hips a bit more as Marcel grabbed them.

"What's all this?" Marcel asked with a laugh as the song ended, Scotty grinning as he kissed the corner of his mouth. "We needed some cool down, so chili mac and cheesy songs to dance to sounded good," he said cheerfully and Marcel grinned, trailing his eyes over Scotty.

"Well, nothing makes a man feel better than watching his boyfriend shake his ass, so it's definitely working," he said with a wink and Scotty blew a kiss at him, laughing.

Marcel took his plate and drink from Scotty, the two of them sitting to eat quickly. Scotty continued to dance in his chair, humming along with the music. Nothing better than early 2000s pop to dance to, after all.

Once their plates were clean, Scotty stood up to throw them away. He kept dancing to the music, doing little hip pops to Yeah! by Usher. He didn't hear Marcel walk up behind him, grabbing his hips and pulling him against his body.

Scotty continued dancing, doing a little grind against his boyfriend and making the other hiss. He picked up the rose and slid it between his teeth, dancing away from Marcel to twirl around him.

Marcel laughed, moving to dance with Scotty in the middle of their kitchen. Scotty pulled the rose from his teeth, brushing the petals down Marcel's cheek teasingly as Rock Your Body by Justin Timberlake came on.

Marcel's eyes were dark as Scotty danced around him, hands in the air. That rose trailed over Marcel's arms and shoulders, Scotty winking at his boyfriend as he moved to back up against his front again.

"You're a fucking tease, did you know that?" Marcel said lowly into his ear and Scotty leaned back to kiss his cheek. "Only for you," he said with a wink and Marcel spun him around, pressing his mouth harshly against his.

"You're mine now," Marcel said, leaning down a bit to throw Scotty over his shoulder. Scotty just laughed, reaching down to smack Marcel's ass.

Mission complete Scotty thought smugly as Marcel carried him from the kitchen

#banana bus squad #banana bus crew #basicallyidowrk #fourzer0seven #basicallyido407 #407 #ocecacia #ocecicia

[dukesoakedoats]

My Saint-1

Also posted on ao3, link will be in comments.Just some one shots of Eoin being protective over his feral lover.

There were good days, there really were some great days where Eoin and Paddy could just be one , together in their little cottage that thy had bought in the rural and wild outskirts of Ireland with only the birds and animals to keep you company. Sometimes it was pure and utter bliss. 

Other times it was a living and breathing nightmare. 

Wars a tricky affair you see, just because one country has declared itself to be the victor doesn’t mean it is. This little shit island called the UK is the perfect example of that. The SAS and other soldiers had made it there life’s goal to keep their homeland free from the fascistic clutches but at what price? Their own sanity. War soaks good and innocent people with the blood of their victims, and Paddy was no exception, he was practically swimming in that sea of red.

So yes, while life was splendid in their little cottage with chicken and hens clucking away it was also a living and torturing nightmare for Eoin who really at his core felt useless, a piece of rag that would be used to clean a coffee spill and then thrown into the bin without a second thought, and all this loathing , all these self deprecating thoughts came from one person. Paddy. Eoin felt horrible for saying or even thinking that , he loved Paddy , he would give everything to see the older man smile , he would killed for him, he has killed for him and by god he’d do it again without a milliseconds thought.Yet now as he cradles Paddy’s body into his chest whispering words of affirmation after the older had been thrashing and whimpering in his sleep awaking both of them to the reality of war, and while Eoin keeps signing Paddy Gaelic tunes and humming him the sweetest melodies known to man he knows deep down , something is horribly wrong. It’s the third time this week Eoin had been forced awake by scream and whimpers, thrashing of the bedsheets. For all Paddy portrayed himself to be in the war the facade had came down. Hard, the older man could barely even be around guns or the mere mention of the war sent him into a horrible state of panic that once he had pointed a loaded gun at Eoin convinced that he was a German spy all along, spying on him. The voice of reason in Paddy’s mind had gradually started to become faint, a mere whisper while the voice of paranoia was shouting at him and his body with what actions to take. God, Eoin hated this, he wanted to scream at God himself climb up the stairs to the pearly white gates and attack the Creator himself for what he had rendered his lover too. 

“Eoin” Something croaked but the Belfast boy payed no mind to it “Eoin” that accent was familiar though… 

“Eoin” Ah, it was Paddy. With his shaky and hoarse voice. Eyes bloodshot , hair dishevelled and tears streaking his face.

“Paddy” Eoin said in that voice , that voice that before could melt all of Paddy’s troubles, now it was just like putting a tiny drop of water on a raging bonfire.Insignificant.

“Eoin I can’t do this anymore… I want the nightmares to stop , Eoin I need them to stop” Paddy was pleading, begging but what could Eoin do but watch and lie to him even if it meant his heart would break in a million pieces

“Shh, it was just a bad dream okay? We are okay?” Eoin guided Paddy’s trembling hands to his chest to reinforce the truth that they were alive. Paddy could hear Eoins heart beat and his own. Granted Paddy’s hands were wet due to sweat and gave the impression of fine China but they were still his. 

“No Eoin” Paddy gruffly interjected “ I need a fuckin drink, a whiskey or a scotch I need something”

No. That’s all Eoin wanted to say. Paddy’s methods of coping infuriated his lover to no extent. Their whole kitchen was practically filled with empty bottles and the permanent stench of spirits had imprinted itself on Paddy. A smell that no amount of scrubbing would make it go away. Eoin has tried.

The silence from Eoin had given Paddy enough information to know how Eoin stood on the matter, he wouldn’t expect anything less from a catholic boy.Blurs started to paint Paddy’s eyes, there were tears. Paddy dint want to be like this , he wanted to be something to Eoin not this wreck 

“No Paddy, fuck, don’t cry baby don’t cry I hate it when you cry”

It seemed whatever Paddy did Eoin hated.

“Baby breathe, you need to breathe.”

Paddy was broken, Eoin deserved the moon and the sun not a broken toy

“Paddy.”

Eoins voice drowned out from paddy’s brain, dark spots danced on the edge of his eyes. The exhaustion and the stress bringing the whole pantomime to a end.

It was now 5 in the morning. Eoin was lounged across their chair watching Paddy sleep monitoring his pained noises and whimpers. Clutching his lovers left hand and his rosemary in the other. 

Paddy may not get better , Eoin knows this.

But if god thinks Eoin won’t kill him for not even letting Paddy or Eoin have their life he’s got another fuckin thing coming. Eoin will stay by Paddy’s side , like Anne Boleyns lady’s in waiting stuck by her. If Paddy is the mad god , Eoin is the mad devotee. He does not mind losing sleep if it means he can watch his love.

#paddon #eoin mcgonigal #paddy mayne #eoin x paddy #paddy x eoin #bet your tired of me spamming these tags #sas rogue heroes #Eoin loves his feral husband #they're so 🥰🥰🥰

[charl3ss]

Charles is very, very drunk. He’s been drunk a lot lately, more so than usual— but he’s fine. Really. He’s just tired. Stressed out. He hasn’t been sleeping too good, either. He tosses and turns in bed, heart racing restlessly, eyes refusing to close and let him drop off into oblivion. So, he drinks until he passes out. Sometimes Camilla finds him and drapes a blanket over his still form, splayed across the couch. Sometimes he wakes alone in his room, slumped against the wall with an aching back.

When he doesn't drink, he dreams of Bunny, of the horrified look on his face during the split second where he flailed and hovered between life and death. Eyes wide and betrayed under his glasses. He hadn’t had time to scream or to say anything. He’d had time for nothing more than a disembodied noise of shock when Henry shoved him. A clean break through the neck, Charles read later, sitting at the dining room table, hunched over the paper, a cold cup of coffee beside him.

I did that, he thought and felt his stomach churn.

So, Charles drinks, because then he doesn’t have to think about it. He doesn’t have to think about any of it.

He stumbles up the stairs to Francis’ apartment on unsteady feet, nearly crashing into a potted tree. “Jesus— fuck,” he curses, glaring at the plant. Who the fuck plants stuff there? It’s basically the middle of the walkway, anyway. But he somehow makes his way to Francis’. He knocks, swaying slightly for unknown reasons. No one answers. He knocks again. Silence. He calls out, “Francis, it’s me! Let me in.” Still nothing.

Charles looks around, shrugs, and sits himself down outside the door to wait. He could just go home, but Camilla isn’t there and the apartment is too quiet. Lately, when he looks at her, he wants to strangle her, mangle her pretty face, bruise her tiny wrists. He looks at her and he sees red. But it brings him no pleasure these fights they have— especially when no matter how much he rages, she stays impassive, with nothing to say but an exasperated Charles.

“Jesus.” Charles looks up to see Francis standing a few feet away, one hand pressed to his chest. “You gave me a fright.” Francis looks at Charles critically, lip curled. The expression makes Charles wish he hadn’t come, makes him want to knock it right off Francis’ stupid face.

He gets to his feet and asks in a harsh tone of voice, “can I come in?” Francis retrieves his key and unlocks the door. Charles stumbles in, gritting his teeth when he trips over Francis’ rug. Stupid fucking thing. Everything is so fucking stupid.

Francis disappears into the kitchen and reappears a moment later, two glasses and a bottle of whiskey in his hands. He fills both the glasses, saying, “I figured you’d want one.”

Maybe it’s his tone, or maybe Charles just feels like shit generally, maybe it’s this whole day, but he snaps, “what’s that supposed to mean?” His hand hovers over the glass, not quite touching it.

Francis blinks. He raises his hands. “Nothing. We’ve all needed a drink lately.”

“Oh.” Charles feels stupid. God, what’s wrong with him? He drains the glass and holds it out for Francis to refill. He sips from the refilled glass, slumping down on Francis’ nice couch, chin tucked into his chest. He wonders what Camilla’s doing, then he realizes she’s probably with Henry and he swears that he can hear the erratic thumping of his pulse in his ears. Fuck Henry, fuck them all. God— how are they here? How did they get here?

Francis gingerly sits down beside Charles, ankle resting on his opposite knee. There’s an exhausted set to his shoulders that Charles has seen in everyone (except Henry, the fucking psychopath) as of late.

“Where were you?” Charles asks, the whiskey a pleasant burn in his throat.

“With Richard,” Francis answers, digging around for a cigarette. He offers the pack to Charles, who takes one. Charles leans forward, face inches from Francis’ as the flame flickers between them.

Leaning back, Charles exhales a cloud of smoke. He watches it, fascinated, the question he was going to ask slipping from his mind. He’s noticed that lately. Everything is so hard to grasp. But that’s life and he’s just tired. Plus, he watched one of his best friends get murdered. He’s fine. What else can he expect? He could be doing much worse, he’s sure. Yes, yes, definitely.

And at least he has a conscience. Unlike Henry, who seems not to have a goddamn care in the world. This whole thing is his fault, as far as Charles is concerned. He’s stupid and now they’re all paying for it. Charles presses the heels of his hands into his eyes, blinking harshly. When he looks up, Francis is watching him with wary eyes. He says, “you look tired.”

Charles replies, “I didn’t sleep well last night.”

Francis hums and nods. They fall into silence. Charles kicks his feet up and throws his head back to stare at the ceiling. He can feel Francis’ eyes on him, carefully tracking every movement. Charles spares him a glance, crossing his ankles. Francis, perched on the coach’s arm like a bird, drains his glass, baring his white throat.

Charles sets down his glass and pulls Francis towards him, pressing their lips together. It’s all very smooth, as Charles knew it would be. Francis takes it all in stride, straddling Charles and setting his glass aside.

Charles kisses him, lets his hands venture. It’s an old dance, one that they both know well. Francis stands up and pulls Charles’ after him to the bedroom where he kicks the door shut with a bang that Charles only distantly hears amidst the much more pleasant sound of Francis whispering his name.

———

They lie together on the bed, sweat pooled around them. Charles’ mouth tastes like smoke and whiskey and his heart sits heavy in his chest. He feels nothing beside muscle relaxation. Francis lays beside him, cigarette between his teeth. He blows smoke rings that Charles watches, his chin propped on his hand. It’s dark outside, the streetlights casting light through Francis’ curtains.

“Camilla is probably home by now,” Charles says to no one.

“Of course,” Francis replies, tone carefully devoid of anything.

Charles gets up and puts on his clothes: socks, pants, shirt, sweater, shoes. He peers into the mirror with his red eyes and fluffs up his hair. He looks like he’s just been fucked. Although what is he so upset about? Like Camilla has any fucking room to talk, whoring herself out for Henry fucking Winter.

Francis, from where he lies on the bed, calls out, “get home safe,” when Charles leaves.

It’s warm outside, a pleasant night. Charles regrets putting on his sweater but he doesn’t want to try removing it. He hums a tune under his breath all the way home, tired and hot. Why does everything have to be so horrible all the time? Is this their punishment? Charles was raised on sin, on confession. He’s had plenty of sins to atone for, but this one trumps them all. There’s no one to confess to now, though. Not for him, anyway.

Camilla is just getting out of the shower when Charles stumbles in. She’s wrapped in a white towel, water dripping from her hair onto the floors. Her face is flushed pink from her shower. Why was she taking a hot shower? Her whole life, she’s taken cold ones. Glaring, Charles slips past her to his room.

Camilla catches the door before it can slam. “Where were you?” she asks.

“Where were you?” Charles spits back. How dare she, like she has any place to question him when she’s—

“I was visiting Henry,” Camilla replies, voice flat, arms crossed. Charles isn’t surprised and yet his fists clench still. Is Henry punishing him? Is the bastard that cruel and petty?

Charles snorts. “And how’s he?” he spits.

“He’s fine,” Camilla answers evenly. In a tone he doesn’t much like, she asks, “how’s Francis?”

He could kill her. “Get out,” Charles snaps, striding over to her and grabbing the doorframe. If she doesn’t let go, he’ll gladly crush her fucking fingers. She must sense that, because she steps back. Charles slams the door in her face and stands there, breathing heavily and listening to her retreating footsteps. He stands by the door for he doesn’t know how long.

He remains there long after the footsteps have died away.

———

“Honest people don’t hide their deeds.”

— Wuthering Heights by Emily Brontë

#i am normal about the macaulay twins #the secret history #charles macaulay #camilla macaulay #francis abernathy #donna tartt #my writing

[miras-ash]

Chapter 19 of "Just as the stars love the night"

Mira's pov

The day had already started stressful because Estella started to scream in the morning without even taking a breath. No matter what Eliza had tried, it didn't work, she ate only conditionally, the diaper was clean and also any kind of attention didn't help, it was stressful. Normally it wouldn't bother me and I would immediately try to help but I had a really serious mission that day, we had located another outpost of Deimos and hoped to find him or at least important information, I had to be fit enough for that. So at four in the morning I moved into the living room to sleep on the couch, only to be woken up again shortly after because Liz came into the room with the little one to look for her pacifier which she had lost and even though I didn't want to, an annoyed remark slipped out, I was just so exhausted. Quickly and with a mumbled apology she left the living room again. Thereupon I could still sleep a little until in the morning already my alarm clock rang.

Absolutely exhausted I got ready, checked everything again and went down to the kitchen to eat something or at least drink a coffee, the main thing was that my stomach was not empty.

Even before I entered the room, the smell of fresh pancakes hit me, my mouth watered. Eliza was already sitting at the table handing Stella feeding her a bottle, she looked as tired as I felt, still I had to get out there, she would definitely find time for a break later.

"Good morning darling, sorry for this morning. I really tried everything." Ash's voice sounded troubled.

I gave her a kiss and then sat down to eat quickly, I was already pretty late when Estella started screaming like a banshee again. My nerves were already stretched to bursting which I did not leave uncommented,

"Please, what's wrong with her? It can't be that she's been screaming for hours, maybe you should take her to Doc or something."

Liz looked at me in horror, her gaze changing from anger to despair and back again every second. She got up, went into the next room and put Stella down in the crib, even now I could hear her. Like a raging rhino, Eliza re-entered the kitchen and leaned against the kitchen counter.

"Do you have any idea how hard this is for me? I've been sitting here for hours doing my best to calm her down for a few minutes. I'm devastated! I'm not doing as great myself as you think I am. And by the way, I was at Gustave's a few days ago, you'd know that if you were home too and didn't come home when everyone was asleep."

That was it, that was the straw that broke the camel's back. I had no choice but to work late into the night, she knew that. I was the one who was actively involved in keeping us safe here and eventually coming home. She seemed to have forgotten what the whole thing was about.

I stood up, took a few steps towards her and began to gesticulate wildly as I always did when I was at 180.

"You know exactly why I'm doing this! I am the one who protects us and especially you. Without me you would be back in Deimos clutches or what I know where. I put everything on one card, I sacrifice myself, so I can get some understanding or at least a little more sleep. You've forgotten what it means to give your life for something greater!"

Even as the words left my mouth, I knew I had gone too far. I didn't mean it that way, I was just exhausted and so terribly irritated and sometimes I said things I didn't mean. I really hoped Liz knew that and wouldn't take it too badly but her gaze hit me with the force of a thousand suns. Before she could say anything there was a knock and Jordan came in. He was ready to leave and here to go with me. I don't know what he had heard, but judging from his look, a lot. After all, the walls were thin and we were very loud.

Looking pityingly at us, he then said "We really need to get going, we're already late."

Apologetically, he put a hand on Ash's shoulder, lowered his head, and then waited for me in the doorway. I had no choice, I had to go. While I was leaving the room, Yumiko came into the room with Maho and Estella. I would have preferred to stay, I didn't want to leave, not after we argued.

Before the door slammed shut behind me, I could hear Eliza crying. Everything inside me was screaming to stay, to hell with the mission, but the others were already waiting for me and this was really about something bigger. I could only protect my family by leaving.

#rainbow six siege #ash #r6 ash #tom clancy #eliza cohen #mira x ash #r6s mira #mira #ash x mira #mirash #r6 mira #ashmira #r6 fanfiction #fanfiction #r6s thermite #thermite #hibana

[thegalaxyisathand]

man, you know what. at this point, i think i’d rather drive nails through my fucking eyeballs than try to put any effort towards anyone but myself. fuck it if that sounds selfish, i’ve spent my whole fucking life putting others needs before my own, and i’m left with nearly nothing to give to myself. why is it so much easier to wear yourself thin, to overwork yourself to the point of finally reaching mental exhaustion, to put yourself below the needs you strive to give to others.. than to give all of that love and care you give to others to yourself when you know you’ve been needing it for years. it’s so easy to just neglect myself because 1) i’m used to it and have been doing it for a decade, and 2) “i have tomorrow”. i say “i have tomorrow” but my depression basket of clean clothes has doubled in size in the last two weeks due to that mindset. “i have tomorrow” but my life has been simultaneously stagnant while also traveling at warped speed. i know that my biggest enemy is myself, but sometimes it’s hard not to believe her when she says really mean things. i know that i need to stand up to her, for her, and with her, because at the end of the day, she’s all i have. thing is, i’ve spent years and years hating her, neglecting her to the point of now (recently in the last couple of years) realizing the damage it’s done to me. irreparable, no. but it’s gonna take a long time to get myself where i feel like i should be, and if i know anything about myself, it’s that i am one impatient motherfucker, and i hate even thinking of the idea that i’m gonna have to spend another x amount of years working on myself to become better again. like girl, we did this already and you still sucked at it. at least you made it out alive, but only just. so idk i guess note to self: don’t destroy yourself trying to cater to the world’s needs, and remember that in order to be a rage filled gremlin, you need to eat regularly, drink more water than coffee, get some fucking exercise, get on a sleeping schedule that won’t make you want to kill yourself every time you wake up bc you didn’t get enough sleep, and for the love of all the gods learn some fucking real self love..

#enjoy this wall of text #tgiah #rant? #i’m good at pep talks #and giving advice #but i suck at taking it

[jungkxook]

—pour up. (m)

⟶ pairing: jungkook x reader x taehyung

⟶ genre: fuckboy!jungkook / fuckboy!taehyung + smut  

⟶ words: 14,048 (idk how it’s literally just smut)

⟶ rating: 18+

⟶ summary: sleeping with both notorious frat boys kim taehyung and jeon jungkook doesn’t sound so bad ━ especially when you’re drunk and faded.

⟶ warnings: mentions of drug/alcohol use, essentially pwp lol, threesome, double penetration, voyeurism, messy rough sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, dry humping, manhandling, doggy style, riding (sort of?), fingering, oral sex (f and m receiving), face riding, face fucking, deepthroating, breast play, slight begging (mostly oc making jungkook beg hehe), brief name calling, dirty talking, unprotected sex, creampie

⟶ note: this is a repost of a fic from my old blog! also shout out to miss jlin @bratkook​ for being the sweetest and for liking this trashy fic of mine, and a happy early birthday present to @onherwings​ miss juno, the resident taekook lover!! 💛

also the accompanying song to this fic is pour up by dean!

There were times when you were sober where you were persistent about never being in a five foot radius of a frat boy, much less strip yourself of your dignity long enough to sleep with one.

Your appalling disgust and immense irritation of the male species that were frat boys kept you well in tune to your rule ━ until you’re far past the point of drunk and faded. Only then, when your bloodstream is laced with alcohol and your mind is nothing but a hazy cloud of smoke, you shrink into a shameless hypocrite and favour the appeal of a simple hook up. But you have needs too; it isn’t entirely your fault. Kim Taehyung offers you exactly that, with the promise to then act as if nothing happens the very next day so that the two of you can revert to despising one another out in public.

You act as if no one knows about your flings with ultimate frat boy Taehyung almost every weekend, as if they’re just as oblivious as you, but damn near the whole school knows and most certainly the rest of the boys in Beta Tau Sigma, or as Taehyung puts it, his brothers. It’s a useless cycle of bicker, avoid, drink, sex, and repeat, ever since you joined the school as a freshman and the sophomore boy took an interest in you. He’s charming in all the right ways and good looking but his smooth appeal was almost too good to be true and, past his “kind” smiles, you could make him out to be arrogant, vain, and cocky. Maybe you would have given him an actual chance had it not been for his snarkiness but all your brain could truly handle was his dick for a few hours a week.

Unsurprisingly, you always end up crashing at Beta Tau Sigma after one of their raging parties that results in your hook ups with Taehyung; surprisingly, Taehyung is miraculously into pillow talk post-sex and so he doesn’t entirely mind if you stay the night. But, by morning, when the alcohol has all but turned into a terrible hangover, he can hardly care less if you stay or not.

Usually, you wake up on your own, courtesy of past sober you setting an alarm on your phone to make sure you wake up earlier than all the other walkers of shame and anyone else in Beta Tau Sigma. Ideally, it was to help guarantee that no one would ever see you or judge you for stooping low enough to sleep with a fuckboy but you don’t know how well that’s working out for you anymore, if you’re being honest.

That’s why, early one fateful Sunday morning after a night of fun with Taehyung, you awaken with a start to the shrill Marimba tone that rips through the silence of the room and causes you to literally jump out of bed and crash onto the floor. You groan at the sharp pain that shoots up your spine and accompanies your groggy mind as your eyes flicker open only to be greeted with a blinding light that is the sun as it filters through the shut curtains. Littered on the ground are clothes, your clothes, beer bottles, red solo cups, discarded bed sheets, a singular condom wrapper (you thank your past selves for at least being sober enough to remember to use one), and your cell phone.

“Turn that shit off, for fuck sakes,” he grovels.

His hangover, and the early morning, makes his already deep voice even rougher, huskier, and you blame your disoriented mind for thinking he sounds even remotely sexy. He doesn’t bother to lift his head from his pillow or to find where you are in the room, the messy longer-than-usual curls of his hair flopping into his lashes as he flips onto his back. Other bodily remnants remain from the night before, from the mellowing ache between your legs left in the wake of his dick sufficiently railing you to the bite marks on his neck that you had so graciously bestowed him.

Now, you roll your eyes at him instead but dive for your phone nearby and tap the snooze button before it wakes the entire house and rouses the army of fuckboys from the dead.

“Good morning to you too,” You remark. “Is that better, princess?”

“Much.”

You push yourself to your feet and stretch, the stiff joints in your body popping and cracking, before searching for your clothes. You’re certain Taehyung has fallen back asleep as you dig around through the clutter to find your belongings but what else is new? It’s a routine the two of you have come to know well, and one that neither of you mind. You spot some sort of lacy material hidden underneath a few of Taehyung’s dirty laundry laying on the floor and reach for it thinking it’s yours. You’re only mildly disturbed to find that it isn’t yours at all ━ though you’re more concerned about the hygienic purposes of touching some other girl’s thong than you are about the blatant fact Taehyung sleeps with more girls than just you (a fact you swear you could care less for).

“Jesus Christ, your room is a disaster,” You scoff now.

“You could clean it,” Taehyung suggests sluggishly. Now, he’s awake, pretty and hooded eyes fluttering open to find you nearby. He props his hand behind his head to lift his gaze a little higher.

You snort, tossing the underwear away. “You never cease to━”

“Amaze you?”

“Repel me more than when I see the collection of thongs you have hidden in your room,” You correct. Fortunately, you spot your own underwear nearby and scoop it up, quickly slipping into them.

“Aw, baby, is that a bit of jealousy I hear?” Taehyung asks. He runs a hand through his dishevelled dark locks and shoots you a drowsy smirk. “You know you’re my one and only. I can always count on you when I want good head.”

“Please, flatter me some more, Tae,” You quip dryly.

As you hastily slide into your stiff shirt and jeans next and turn to face him, combing your fingers through your hair, Taehyung seems to take your words to heart and tries again. “You look like shit.”

You feign a voluntarily loud and overly dramatic moan. “Ugh, you really do know how to treat a girl━” Your cut off by a shameless snort from Taehyung before you continue on, “You know, you don’t exactly look the hottest right now either.”

“I beg to differ,” he replies nonchalantly. Technically, he isn’t lying, but you refuse to feed his ego any more.

“As if.”

“Funny,” he hums. “Could’ve sworn last night you were calling me hot when you were begging for my dick.”

You don’t bother to reply. Instead, you shake your head as you rub your tired face, uttering, “I need a coffee.”

“You could stay,” he offers. “I can make you one.”

“You don’t even know how to boil water,” You retort. “But thanks for the gesture. Try not to throw up on yourself today, okay?”

Taehyung mumbles something in response but then he’s already flipping over onto his side to fall back asleep again. You grab your bag from the floor and slip into your shoes before tiptoeing out of the room.

The Beta house is just as much a disaster as Taehyung’s room is and you find yourself stepping over more bottles, cups, empty pizza boxes, and hungover passed out people with phallic images doodled on their faces. The sun filters into the ever grand mansion and only illuminates the chaos the frat boys put it through. Everyone is thankfully still asleep as you head downstairs but, as you sneak past the kitchen, you notice two figures rummaging about, boisterous unabashed laughter filling the house that somehow hasn’t woken the others yet.

Jeon Jungkook stands before you with Park Jimin, both fellow Beta brothers, though Jungkook is in the same year as you. They, like most other Beta boys (and especially Taehyung), are well known on campus but Jungkook is perhaps even worse than Taehyung. Now, he’s adorned in only low hanging gray sweatpants that show off the ripples of his toned chest and the happy trail that threatens for your eyes to follow it. He holds a bowl of cereal close to him with the same arm decorated on every inch with tattoos, a snapback pushing his messy hair up and away from his forehead. The best part (and you mean that not at all) ━ or the worst ━ is the fact that he stands on a hoverboard, as if walking is too much for him to handle at nine in the morning. Jimin isn’t far off wearing the same attire, only his look is paired with the fuckboy-essential-starter-pack of socks and Adidas slides, and he’s at least actually using his legs to walk.

“Morning,” Jungkook smirks. “Time for the walk of shame?”

You have to retain a sigh. “I’m surprised you’re up, Jeon. I was sure you were gone past the point of saving last night.”

“A couple of shots do nothing for me,” Jungkook replies, shovelling a spoonful of cereal into his mouth. “I was pretty much sober.”

At this, you sit back on your heels and look him once over skeptically. “You kept trying to hook up with me, called your dick Jungcock, threw up in one of the vases, and then passed out in the bathtub. I wouldn’t have exactly called you sober.”

The smirk remains on Jungkook’s face. If anything, he seems more so amused and it pisses you off. Jimin bursts into a fit of laughter and shakes his head.

“Always a pleasure seeing you, Y/N,” he greets. “Hey, are you coming to the party going down at Lambdas house after exams? It’s pretty exclusive but you and your friends are all invited by courtesy of us.”

“Ugh, I can’t even think about going to another party right now. How do you Beta whores do it?” You grovel. “Besides, why would we come if we know you’re going to be there?”

“‘Cause Tae’s going and you’re probably gonna wanna suck his dick,” Jungkook suggests snidely.

“I was gonna say the free booze,” Jimin offers instead. “Man, you know the Lambdas. They’re all rich pretentious sons of country club owners. They hardly throw parties but, when they do, you know it’s going to be wild. I wouldn’t miss it if I were you.”

“Well,” You say, “thanks for the invitation but we’ll see. Maybe if we have a pre-game where I can get drunk enough to handle your faces and the Lambda boys together.”

“I’ve always said you’re more fun when you’re drunk,” Jungkook hums pensively. Your eyes narrow into a glare and you’re fortunate Jimin is there to block your path from tackling Jungkook.

“Okay, whatever,” You grumble. “I’m out of here. I think if I stay here any longer, I’ll lose all my brain cells.”

Jimin chuckles but hardly seems bothered by your comment. He waves you off as he slips out of the kitchen to retreat into another room, leaving you alone with Jungkook.

“Can I get you anything before you go?” he asks. There’s a cheeky tone laced in his words that makes you blatantly aware he’s trying to suggest something more, like his dick.

“Absolutely not,” You wave him off. “See you around, Jungidiot.”

He grins and shoves another spoonful into his mouth. “Hey, maybe next Saturday you can think about blowing me instead of Tae, yeah?”

He’s met with you jamming your middle finger in his face and it only seems to entertain him further. As you march out of their home, slamming the door behind you, you have one discernable thought amongst your hangover and that is that you’ll definitely need to have that pre-game before you have the audacity to even see Jungkook, or any of the Beta boys for that matter, at the Lambdas.

That Saturday, you find yourself at the Lambdas house party.

So maybe you had sort of been lying when you said you weren’t so sure of going to it, but the thought was tempting enough and you aren’t one to pass up on a good party, especially when it’s after weeks of headaches and stressing over studying and exams.

Mid-terms come and go and when you finally finish writing your last paper, all you want to do is let loose and party and get dicked down by Taehyung. The Lambdas, despite their pretentious behaviour, looks to be very promising ━ but only after you down a few shots beforehand and have a beer while you’re getting ready. You’re not exactly as drunk or as tipsy as you would have prefered but it still gives you a nice enough buzz that makes you warm and lets the adrenaline pump in your veins and excites you even more for the party. The house you rent is off campus but it’s close to Beta’s and Taehyung offers to give you guys a lift to the Lambdas who are a fifteen minute walk away (but you know Taehyung will do anything to not walk anywhere his penny board can’t take him ━ and it’s not even Taehyung who is driving but his friend, Jin).

You can hear the party at Lambdas before you’re even there. The thump of bass coming from the house isn’t hard to miss, especially not with the way it seems to rattle the ground the closer you get. The house is crammed full to capacity and people have already begun to spill onto the lawn by the time you have arrived. A potent waft of alcohol and weed fill your senses and it is all you could really make out in the rambunctious party. You can hardly hear yourself think, let alone what others are saying to you. Yet, you still found a way to have fun almost instantly, drifting away from the guys to party with your friends.

Most of the night is a blur and a haze of confusion but you can remember drinking and drinking some more until you’re sufficiently smashed. You can’t quite recall where you had lost your friends, though you suspect it was after the intense game of beer pong you were suckered into in which you were certain there were no winners or losers as it was just an excuse to drink even more. It’s nearing 1 a.m. when you finally bump into a familiar face, pulling you back from the unruly party and the adrenaline rush coursing through your veins.

You’ve just slipped outside for some fresh air, perched on the front porch, when you notice Jimin is passed out on the lawn below. The other stragglers gathered outside barely take note of him but maybe that’s because he had chosen to faceplant in the shadows under the porch, tucked safely away from the rest of the party. Just before you can even think to walk over to him and make sure he’s still alive, the front door of the house swings wide open and a frenzied Taehyung bursts outside, shortly followed by an equally dumbfounded Jungkook.

“Where the fuck is he?” Taehyung hisses.

“I don’t know,” Jungkook sighs, disgruntled, “but leave it to him to run off and disappear.”

“Looking for someone?”

The two boys startle at your voice. They whirl around to find you taking a sip of the drink in your hand, as if only just noticing your presence. You hadn’t seen them since you parted ways a handful of hours ago in the party, though you’re fairly certain they’re just as smashed as you.

“Ah, babe!” Taehyung beams wolfishly. “What a pleasure seeing you out here. Uh, you wouldn’t happen to have seen where Jimin went, would you?”

You nod in the direction of the sleeping boy down below. “He’s there. He’s passed out cold, though. What the hell did you do to him?”

“Nothing,” Jungkook says. He grimaces as he hastily follows Taehyung down onto the lawn to stand near Jimin, and you in tow. “Jimin just likes to get out of hand. What should we do, Tae? We can’t just leave him here and Luna’s going to be pissed if she sees him like this.”

Taehyung stares down at Jimin miserably, thinking momentarily. “Well, Luna’s looking for him so we might as well drop him off at her dorm. He can deal with her when he’s sober.”

There’s a brief moment where you spot Jungkook seriously considering this though, as if leaving Jimin on the lawn of a frat house is a safer option than returning him to his girlfriend. Ultimately, he caves and you watch as Taehyung nudges Jimin awake (and by nudge, you mean he slaps the boy across the face) before pulling a very disoriented Jimin to his feet and slinging one of his arms over Taehyung’s neck.

“Fuck, he’s heavy,” Taehyung huffs. “Give me a hand, Jungkook.”

Jungkook nods, stepping forward to take Jimin’s other arm and hook it around his own neck. The two boys seem to be struggling carrying most of Jimin’s body weight, though they’re carrying mostly dead weight as Jimin continues to drift in and out of consciousness.

Before they can leave you offer to help though you don’t know what you can really do so you suspect your inebriated mind just wanted to go with them for the hell of it. Luna’s place isn’t far. It’s a ten minute walk from Lambda’s, but in that ten minutes, none of you talk about anything of real importance except for chuckle and laugh about things that happened at the party.

Eventually you make it to Luna’s, who answers the door angrily after you knock on it as if you’ve disrupted her slumber and frowns when she sees Jimin’s current state. At least she has the decency to thank the three of you. When she shuts the door behind her, the three of you turn to look at one another, almost clueless.

“So, what now?” Taehyung asks. “Head back to the party?”

The thought of making the ten minute walk back to the party in your drunken mind seems like an eternity. That, mixed with the way your feet scream in agony from the heels you’re wearing, you begin to pout and shake your head.

“I can’t walk anymore,” You whine, words drunkenly slurring together. “I’d be fine just sitting here.”

Jungkook’s nose scrunches as he looks at you once over. “How drunk are you?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, how about we just go back to our place?” Taehyung asks. His arm slides around your waist then, tugging you close to his side. If one thing is for certain, the boy tends to get more handsy the more drunk he is, and you never seem to mind. “I’ve got a fresh bowl we can hit and we can drink there and just chill?”

You and Jungkook consider Taehyung’s offer fleetingly and, to you, it seems much more appealing.

“Sign me up,” You say. “The Lambdas were a bit too over the top for my liking. There’s only so much I can handle.”

Jungkook shrugs and nods in agreement. “Then I guess I’m going with you guys.”

The five minute walk to Beta is short and soon you’re inside the eerily empty house and climbing the steps to Taehyung’s room but not before the three of you raid their cabinets for any type of liquor. Eventually, you’re all lounging in Taehyung’s room, some type of music playing in the background as the three of you pass around a bottle of whisky and the bong Taehyung had promised he had, giggling at each other.

By 2 a.m., you are smashed and faded but blissfully so.

Taehyung and Jungkook are not too far off. It’s Taehyung who comes up with the idea to play strip poker, though with a twist. His version of the game includes: taking a shot anytime one of you loses a round along with either stripping an article of clothing or being allowed to pass it and get dared to do something else, though each person only has three passes.

Jungkook loses the first round, shedding only his jacket. Taehyung and you lose the second round; you decide to strip out of your own cardigan while Taehyung flicks off his hat. Jungkook and Taehyung lose the third round and both kick off their shoes. The game progresses slowly, with the three of you coming up with “clever” loopholes out of the rules, like stripping one sock one round and then another sock the next and all of you are too drunk to really protest. Eventually, the game winds up with Taehyung and Jungkook both in their pants and you still wearing both your shirt and jeans. Both the boys have used one of their passes and are still losing which, you will admit, boosts your confidence ever so slightly especially when you have such a nice view in front of you.

Both boys are toned, with certified gym rat Jungkook’s abs a bit more chiseled, and you know that sober you would cringe at how hard you seem to be drooling over them. Jungkook must notice because he shoots you a wink that has you squirming in your seat.

“Like what you see?” he asks.

“N-No,” You say shortly. “Shut up and go. It’s your turn.”

You end up losing that round, unfortunately, but you have no qualms with stripping out of your jeans and kicking them to the side. The next round, you lose again, except you decide to use one of your passes which has both boys groaning in defeat.

“Remember,” You coo, “play nice boys.”

The two exchange a look and you wait patiently, taking your shot of whisky in the meantime as Taehyung chides you on encouragingly with a cheeky, “Pour up, baby girl.”

You down the shot in one gulp, wincing as it burns down your throat, then chase it quickly with the drink you had stolen from their kitchen. A drowsy smirk tugs at Taehyung’s lips as he takes another rip from the bong, breathing out a cloud of smoke as he hums insouciantly, “I’ve got your dare.”

There’s a split moment where he makes eye contact with you and pushes his hair out of his eyes.

“Come here and kiss me.”

Had you been sober, you might have rolled your eyes at his simple yet assertive dare but, instead, you can’t help but snicker as you lean across to him from your seat on the floor and pull him down for a not so graceful kiss. His whisky coated tongue instantly collides with yours in an open mouthed frenzy that’s full of teeth clashing and wet sounds but it’s hot, too hot, even as Taehyung pulls you closer to him with his hand grasping at your chin. You instinctively react, teeth nipping at his lower lip as you suck hard, momentarily forgetting about Jungkook sitting in the room.

A moan emits from you as your fingers thread through his hair. Jungkook is left to watch but his eyes stay locked on your figure and the way you cave so easily to Taehyung, the way your mouth moves against his. He can’t seem to tear his eyes away from your position on your hands and knees, or the way you arch your back in an attempt to get closer to Taehyung, and he certainly can’t seem to look away from the tempting curve of your ass jutting in his direction. All Jungkook suddenly wants is for you to be kissing him the same way you’re kissing Taehyung.

You’re only interrupted when he finds the nerve to clear his throat after a few moments. “Nah, it’s alright, I’ll just sit here. Do you guys want me to leave?”

He’s being sarcastic, of course, and when you and Taehyung part to look at the boy, he’s scowling. The two of you chuckle lightly but don’t respond, though you remember the game you’re still playing. Taehyung kisses you one last time before you settle back onto the floor, a sheepish giggle bubbling in your chest. Taehyung loses the next round and he decides to strip down into his underwear though he hasn’t lost yet (the goal is nudity and neither of your drunk selves have enough dignity left to give up before then).

The round after that, you lose again. You decide, once more, to use another one of your passes and the two boys pause, thinking of a dare for you as you take a shot (which, you have realized, only get harder to take as time passes).

“I have one,” Taehyung says at long last.

“Bro,” Jungkook groans, “if you just wanna fuck, let me know. I’ll leave. I don’t think I can sit here and watch you dare her to suck your face again.”

Taehyung laughs and shakes his head. “Easy there. I was just gonna suggest that you━” he points at you before nodding toward Jungkook, “give him a lap dance.”

“A what?” Jungkook’s jaw drops open, his eyes widening. “M-Me?”

You glance up at Taehyung, quirking an eyebrow. “Him?”

Taehyung erupts into another fit of laughter but he’s the only one who finds the situation hilarious because you and Jungkook continue to sit there, dumbfounded. When Taehyung calms himself down, he wipes his eyes and shakes his head.

“Are you seriously telling me you haven’t been noticing?” he asks.

“Noticing what?”

“The way Jungkook keeps eye-fucking you,” Taehyung says simply.

Jungkook gaps. “The fuck? I haven’t.”

“Jungkook, you’re not exactly sly,” Taehyung says. “He’s been doing it the whole night, babe. It’s not the first time he’s done it, too. I just figured we could do him a little favour.”

Your turn to look up at Jungkook and purse your lips. He’s seated in Taehyung’s desk chair and has a frown painted on his face. It’s not like it comes as a surprise to you because he’s constantly trying to flirt with you even when you’re sober but his sudden flustered appearance puzzles you slightly. You’ll admit the idea is ludicrous, but Jungkook is undeniably hot, and grinding on his dick sounds more than wonderful to you in your current state. Either way, you stand to your feet.

“I’ll do it,” You say. “Why not?”

“Wh-What?” Jungkook yelps. “You will?”

“Yeah,” You flash him a pearly smirk. “What? Is confident Jungkookie finally shy?”

At the mention of the taunting nickname, he straightens up in his seat and scowls. “No. I’m just surprised you gave in so easily. You must really like me, huh?”

“Keep dreaming, Jeon,” You retort.

The music is still playing in the background as you slink towards Jungkook’s seated figure. Meanwhile, Taehyung is watching with an amused look on his face and sits back, clearly enjoying the view as he tells you that you have three minutes. As you approach Jungkook, he leans back in his seat and watches you with dark eyes. Jungkook’s eyes sweep over your figure, from the way you muse your hands through your messy hair, your tight tank top with one strap falling down your shoulder, your lacy and scantily clad underwear, and your smooth legs. He gulps at the sight and shifts in his seat.

As soon as you’re standing in front of him, you whirl around so that your back is to him and jutt your butt out just enough to catch his attention as you sway your hips to the music. Your hands ghost up your sides just faintly enough so that chills run down your spine and you lock eyes with Taehyung for a split second to see him grinning. You sit back on Jungkook’s lap and his breath hitches in his throat suddenly. He hates to admit how easily you’re driving him crazy and as soon as you are but he takes the time to enjoy the dance anyway, eyes staying trained on your ass as you grind against him in agonizingly slow circles and right against his dick nestled against his thigh. He can’t help it when a moan emits from him.

“Fucking hell,” he grunts, raking his hands through his hair. You snicker at his reaction, craning your neck to look behind at him.

“Enjoying yourself, Kookie?”

“N-No,” he rasps. This is a lie, of course. “Turn around.”

His command only humours you but you don’t disobey. You get up for a second to spin around and face him before climbing back onto his lap, swinging one leg over his. Before you drop your hips completely on him, you’re rocking them back and forth against the thin air, your hands snaking around his neck. His hands suddenly find purchase on your waist and he yanks you down onto him with a sudden neediness that surprises you, though you don’t complain. You continue to grind against his lap and you can’t help your greedy self when your hands reach out to run up and down his toned chest. He shivers at your slightest touch, his jaw clenched, but he keeps his gaze focused on your eyes, as if challenging you for more. Behind you, Taehyung is taking another hit from the bong and laughs lightly at Jungkook’s reactions.

“Let him touch you,” Taehyung says.

You expect Jungkook to listen to Taehyung and reach out to grab onto you but he hesitates, his hands remaining at your hips. So, instead, you take his hands in yours and begin pulling them up, sliding them along your midriff and up to your chest. You don’t even flinch as you let him cup your boobs over your clothes and you watch him slyly as he gulps.

“Is this the first time you’ve actually touched a girl, Jungkook?” You quip. “You’re gawking at my boobs like it is. Not gonna wet yourself, hm?”

“Fuck off,” he growls, though there’s no malice in his voice.

Instead, he focuses his attention on your breasts and the weight of them in his palm. They’re soft and supple and he squeezes them firmly, jiggles the flesh as he fondles at you blatantly. He hates to admit it but he feels as if he’s going to combust at any second, repressing the sudden urge to tear off your shirt and burrow his head in your chest, your boobs in his mouth. He doesn’t know whether the soft moan that slips from your parted pink lips is intentional to mess with him or because you had been getting carried away yourself. Either way, Jungkook’s certain it’s the hottest thing he’s heard in a while, the hottest thing he’s seen in a while, and he hates how his sudden erection forms, how embarrassing it must be. When you feel his hardened length start to poke at your thigh, you look down at him past your lashes and smirk.

“Are you hard already, Kookie?” You giggle.

Taehyung roars with laughter abruptly and the outburst only makes Jungkook redden.

“I━I━” he stammers helplessly.

You shake your head at him and then purposely press your hips a little more firmly against his, gripping at his shoulders now. You’re challenging him now too, and he doesn’t know what you have in mind but you’re wickedly set on making him cum in his pants before Taehyung stops you.

“Time’s up,” he says.

Jungkook almost groans out loud in frustration when you pull away and step off of his lap. He’s embarrassingly hard now but his drunk self doesn’t try very hard to hide it. Taehyung’s stare is settled on Jungkook as you walk back to your seat but, before you can even sit down, Taehyung is beckoning you over.

“Come here, babe,” he hums. You look at him curiously but move in his direction. “What do you say we help Jungkook with his problem, huh?”

“Help? How?” You question.

“Come sit,” Taehyung gestures to his thigh.

Jungkook watches with silent seething jealousy as you take a seat on Taehyung’s thigh and then he’s kissing you, pressing his lips against your neck. You react almost instantly, your head craning to allow him more access and your eyes clamp shut, your mouth hanging open in delight.

“Tae━” You mewl, tugging at his hair, as if to prompt him wordlessly about Jungkook’s presence. But when does it become too much? Every action seems to keep building and building, that you know where the night surely must be heading; that you crave it.

Taehyung’s tongue swirls at your neck, his lips sucking on the sensitive skin, before he peeks one eye open to look at Jungkook.

“Look at him,” Taehyung hums against you. “Look at how jealous he is right now. Look at how bad he wants to be me right now.”

You take a moment to register his words, your head spinning. You struggle to find Jungkook as Taehyung continues to ravish your neck. Jungkook’s stare is hard, his jaw clenched; his hands are balled into tight fists that let you see the bulging veins in his arms. Is he jealous? Angry?

Taehyung suddenly bites down onto your neck and you gasp in surprise, leaning against his chest. His nimble fingers find the hem of your shirt which he lifts and discards on the floor with ease. Next to come off is your bra. You don’t realize your torso is bare until a slight breeze hits your breasts and perks your nipples and Taehyung reaches up to cup the soft tissue in his large hands and Jungkook can’t look away because, fuck, touching you is all he really wants to do.

“Do you see him staring now?” Taehyung asks. “Do you see how desperate he is for you? Look at how bad he wants to touch you right now, baby girl. Will you let him?”

You’re still staring at Jungkook as Taehyung speaks and note how fast Jungkook’s demeanour has changed. He looks helpless, his erection more prominent in his straining jeans which he shamelessly palms at to feel some sort of relief.

“Better yet,” Taehyung hums, averting your attention back to him. He’s sliding one of his hands down your front and in between your legs, pushing your thighs apart. His digits come in contact with your clothed pussy and the sudden touch, light and feathery, makes you jump and gasp. You hadn’t been aware of how wet you had been until he touched you just then and the coil in your stomach only tightens with each passing second. “Will you let him play with you?”

It takes you a second to respond, though that isn’t because you’re struggling to decide. The thought entices you far more than you ever believed it could. Taehyung is suddenly rubbing his fingers against your clothed clit in so very slow circles that it suddenly has you tripping over your own thoughts. You’re biting hard onto your lower lip as you force yourself to nod hastily.

“Do you want him to?” Taehyung asks.

“Fuck, yes,” You whine. “Mmm, Tae━”

Taehyung shifts you in his lap so that your back is pressed against his chest, leaning all your weight against him. It’s hard to focus as one of his hands fondles one of your breasts while his other presses figure eights onto your clit. You’re on full display for Jungkook now, though his eyes fall to the wet spot that forms on your pretty little underwear as your arousal leaks from you.

“How badly do you want him to?” Taehyung asks.

“So badly,” You whimper.

This catches Jungkook’s attention and he leans forward in his seat. Taehyung smirks against you and then he’s moving, withdrawing his hand from between your thighs to hook around the waistband of your underwear. He gives it a quick tug and you fumble to lift your hips so he can pull the useless fabric down your legs. Once it pools at your feet, you kick it off to the side and then Taehyung’s hand returns between your thighs.

“Spread your legs,” he says.

You do as you’re told, pushing your thighs apart but then instinctively squeezing them shut when Taehyung continues to press his fingers against your clit. The sudden stimulation is too much for you and your face begins to heat up so Taehyung uses the chance to push your legs apart for you. He hitches one of your thighs over his own as if to anchor you in place and it works.

“Can you stay like that for me, baby?” Taehyung drawls. “Look at Jungkook for me.”

You nod, your throat dry as you lift your gaze to lock eyes once more with Jungkook. You find the boy gawking at your sex and you moan suddenly. His head snaps up to stare at you with a sudden blazing determination and lust in his eyes before they fall once more to your pussy, admiring the way it pulsates each time Taehyung swipes at your clit or tweaks at your nipples. But the best part? The best part is just how wet you are, your clear juices coating Taehyung’s fingers, spilling onto yours and Taehyung’s thighs with the passing seconds, and suddenly Jungkook is hungry for you. But what he doesn’t know is how you suddenly imagine Jungkook in Taehyung’s place, sat beneath you poised daintily on his lap, his fingers pressing against you.

You twist on top of Taehyung, your own hand reaching up to grasp at your other breast, pinching at the nipple tightly. A delighted moan fumbles from your lips. “Jungkook━ Fuck━”

“It’s nice, yeah?” Taehyung asks aloud to the other boy. “She’s pretty, hm?”

Jungkook nods eagerly and then groans. “She’s dripping. Fuck, it’s so hot.”

Your face burns at his words but you don’t have enough wits to think of a snarky retort like usual.

Taehyung chuckles. “Why don’t you come here then and touch her? Taste her? Is that okay, baby?”

When you realize Taehyung is asking you, you nod eagerly. “Shit, please━ Jungkook, wanna feel you━”

At your request, Jungkook practically tumbles out of his seat. As soon as he’s standing on his feet, the realization seems to hit him and he takes his time, walking to you slowly. His gaze sweeps over your exposed body and he licks his lips, his eyes suddenly darkening. Taehyung doesn’t stop touching you or marking your neck his even as Jungkook walks closer and it hits you in that moment what exactly you’re doing and who you’re with ━ and you fucking love it. Jungkook kneels down in front of you and Taehyung nods in encouragement.

“She’s impatient and feisty,” Taehyung informs. “But that makes her fun to tease.”

“I know how to pleasure a girl,” Jungkook quips.

“But you don’t know how to pleasure Y/N,” Taehyung replies. “You’re too cocky, Jungkookie, and she doesn’t like that. You need to take your time with her and you don’t do that often with girls, do you?”

Jungkook doesn’t respond but, judging by his face, you assume Taehyung is right.

“What do you want me to do?” Jungkook asks. He’s staring at your face now and only your face. His intense stare makes you squirm on Taehyung’s lap, and makes you suck your lower lip between your teeth.

“Touch me,” You rasp. “Touch me, please, Jungkook.”

God, how he loves hearing you moan his name. But the anticipation is killing you. You’ve felt Taehyung’s fingers plenty of time; you’ve never felt Jungkook’s, and the abrupt need seems to grow more intense with each passing second.

“You heard her, Jungkookie,” Taehyung says. He draws his hand away from your heat and kisses your neck softly. “Go on. Touch her. Be gentle, go slow.”

Jungkook is shaking with excitement ━ or maybe it’s just the weed and alcohol in his bloodstream ━ but he eyes you carefully, gnawing down on his lower lip. He reaches out at a tedious pace and hesitates, his fingers hovering over your core. Taehyung is watching with eager eyes whilst planting open mouthed kisses along your shoulders, neck, and jawline. Jungkook finally presses his fingers against your pussy and your reaction is immediate. You toss your head back against Taehyung’s shoulder and jutt your hips forward.

“Nnngh, fuck, Kook━” You whimper. “M-More━ Wanna feel more━”

Jungkook takes that as a good sign and follows after Taehyung, rubbing circles into your clit slowly. He feels just how wet you are, his fingers coating with your cum as they move with ease past your folds, and it’s enough to let the wave of glee wash over him again.

“See? Look how much she loves it already,” Taehyung says. “Keep going.”

Jungkook doesn’t need to be told twice. As he rubs his fingers over your clit, his other hand comes up in a greedy fashion. He can’t stop himself from slipping a finger past your folds and it takes all you can not to moan out loud but you give up on the prospect of remaining quiet when it feels so good to have both boys on you.

“Let him know how you feel, baby,” Taehyung purs. “How he’s making you feel.”

You struggle to find your voice momentarily, too caught up with the lust and desire but then a cry of delight falls from your lips. “Fuck, ah, Jungkook! That feels s-so good━”

Jungkook’s head snaps up to look at you in pure disbelief.

“Holy shit, that’s so fucking hot,” he huffs. “I never thought you’d moan my name and now you’re so wet and tight and for me━”

“And me,” Taehyung admonishes offhandedly.

Jungkook doesn’t reply but that’s mostly because he’s suddenly fixated on curling his finger inside of you and watching your every reaction. Your hips jut forward and you cry out, panting at the blissful feeling but it isn’t enough. You need more, and you need more now. As if Taehyung can read your mind, he chimes in again, disrupting yours and Jungkook’s reverie.

“Why don’t you have a taste of her?” he asks. “You won’t regret it.”

Jungkook’s eyes light up and he watches as you nod eagerly, desperate pleas coming from your mouth. Jungkook lowers himself down between your thighs and you wait with bated breath before he’s licking a clean stripe against your folds with his flattened tongue. The sudden slippery warmth has your body writhing in pleasure.

“Jungkook━” You cry out. “Oh my god━”

Jungkook grins. Then he’s licking at you again, tasting your sweet succulence, and groans into your hot core.

“Shit,” Jungkook huffs. “You taste amazing.”

He nibbles down slightly on your clit without warning and tugs. You instantly jerk into his mouth, a strangled moan ripping from your throat that sounds something like a scold of his name and a desperate plea for more. “Jungkook!”

Taehyung snickers against your neck and you can feel Jungkook’s lips curl into a taunting smirk between your thighs. Jungkook’s finger still curls deep within you as his tongue returns to lapping at your clit and you can feel his nose brushing against you the deeper he burrows into you. Meanwhile, Taehyung is continuing to ravish your neck, his hands tweaking at your nipples. The onslaught of senses is so much for you that you nearly scream when Jungkook’s tongue dips into your heat so suddenly to accompany his finger. He laps at you hungrily and you gasp, your breath stuttering as your hands come down to tug hard in his raven locks, your hips bucking forward and into his mouth. It feels fantastic, too incredible for you to put into words, as you feel the wetness of his tongue lap at your walls and suddenly you’re aware of just how susceptible you are to both of the boys near you.

“Fuck, don’t stop, Jungkook,” You moan.

“Now who’s the needy one?” Jungkook coos against your cunt. “Gonna cum on my tongue?”

“P-Please━ Want it so badly, Kook━”

He smacks his lips against you, taking as much as he can of you into his mouth and sucking hard until all you hear are the lewd wet sounds of his tongue and finger working miracles against you. You’re clutching his hair so tight, pushing him closer into your heat but he doesn’t relent. One of his hands comes up to hold onto your waist, to push you firmly back onto Taehyung’s lap and closer into Jungkook’s mouth. You can feel Taehyung’s budding erection poking against your thigh and it’s enough to make you flustered once more.

In an attempt to help Taehyung, you find yourself grinding not only into Jungkook’s mouth but onto Taehyung’s lap, earning a growl into your neck. Taehyung’s free hand comes up to your chin which he grabs roughly. He forces you to look at him and then he’s smashing his lips onto yours in a heated fashion for an entirely ungraceful kiss. It’s needy and hot, completely open mouthed as your tongues mingle in the air and as Taehyung sucks on your lower lip. Yet you tear your gaze from Taehyung to look down at Jungkook as he buries himself further into your pussy, his nose nuzzling against your clit. You’re dripping by now and you can see your own juices smear onto his lips, dribble down to his chin, and it’s the hottest thing you could ever imagine seeing. He doesn’t seem to care as it spills down his neck and suddenly the mere sight has you squirming again. You part from Taehyung’s mouth with a wet pop that rings in your ears and moan.

“Fuck━ nghn, I━I━ think I’m close,” You whimper.

“Fuuck, yes,” Jungkook growls against you.

“Let it go, baby,” Taehyung hums, nibbling at your ear. “Cum for him, for us.”

Jungkook’s pace quickens, pumping his finger faster in you and sucking at your clit until you have no more strength to hold off. Your hands fumble in his hair, trying desperately to pull him closer, and you hate how badly you want your sweet release already. It doesn’t help when Taehyung twists your body ever so slightly so that he can lean down to your breasts and catch one of your nipples between his teeth. His tongue swishes back and forth against the perked bud and you whimper again, the coil in your stomach tightening and loosening.

You’re so close now and Jungkook can hear it, can feel it, can taste it. You don’t have much longer after that before your orgasm is hitting you hard.

“I’m gonna━” You reach out to grasp at Jungkook’s hair, tugging at the roots. “Fuck, Jungkook━”

You cry out suddenly, the coil in your stomach springing apart. Jungkook moans into your pussy as you cum, pulsating around his tongue and finger and dripping into his mouth. You’re reduced to nothing but a whimpering, writhing mess against Taehyung as you buck back and forth into Jungkook’s mouth to ride out your high. Taehyung pulls apart from you to rub circles into your hips and the seemingly gentle move somehow soothes the intense wave of pleasure into something much sweeter. Fire burns at your core and flicks outward until your whole body is warm and numb and then you collapse against Taehyung’s chest, panting hard. Jungkook drinks up every last bit of you and you begin to cringe at the oversensitivity before you gain some of your wits again. You push his head away hastily and this time he relents.

“Did all your little happy wet dreams finally come true, Jeon?” You snicker languidly.

The boy sits back on his knees and looks up at you, locking gazes with yours. You can finally see his face, his tousled black hair, his swollen red lips, and chin, all of which are covered in your perfect sheen. He licks at his lips and wipes at his chin and neck where his tongue can’t reach and he does all of this without breaking eye contact with you. A small smirk forms on his face and suddenly you’re filled with an intense need for payback.

“Yeah, you act confident now but you seemed to enjoy it when you were riding my face,” Jungkook says. You roll your eyes, about to reply before he adds, “So, you’re welcome.”

“You’re impossible,” You huff, pushing yourself off of Taehyung’s lap.

“Where do you think you’re going, baby?” Taehyung mewls behind you. “We still need you.”

“Oh, I know,” You quip. You reach down to grab onto Jungkook’s chin, forcing him to look up at you. “But it’s my turn, don’t you think, Tae?”

Taehyung chuckles and nods in agreement. Jungkook, however, hardly looks bothered, though he seems a little taken aback by your sudden assertiveness when you begin pulling him up to his feet before pushing him back onto the bed. Taehyung scoots over so that the three of you can fit comfortably on his bed and then you’re moving, crawling over to Jungkook on your hands and knees.

“Are you trying to intimidate me?” Jungkook asks. “Because this is sexier than it is scary.”

You’re hovering over his crotch when he speaks, your greedy hands reaching forward to brush against his hard dick straining in his jeans. He nearly jolts in his seat at the sudden touch and you and Taehyung giggle again.

“Mmm, baby, teach him a lesson,” Taehyung hums. “Suck him off nice and slow but don’t let him cum.”

“Not unless he begs for it,” You say wickedly.

Taehyung stifles a chuckle. “I told you she’s feisty, Jungkookie.”

The younger boy is eyeing you carefully as you busy yourself by undoing the belt buckle on his jeans. He acts unimpressed, unfazed, as you unbutton his jeans and began sliding them off his legs, but you can see the needy and impatient glint in his eyes. Your eyes fall immediately to the ever present straining bulge in his boxers and you gulp in response, licking your lips. You can’t help yourself when you reach out to brush your fingers faintly along his length. He jolts in his seat and grits his teeth, shooting you a hard glare.

“Are you seriously going to tease me?” Jungkook grumbles. “We can skip all of that, y’know━”

“It’s payback, Jeon,” You hum, running your fingers down his dick and then back up again. “Where’s the fun in it if I skip all of the teasing?”

“You know,” Taehyung murmurs from beside you. He’s reclining back, watching you with intense eyes and is completely shameless about his prominent erection contained by his boxers. “I’m surprised the idiot hasn’t referred to his dick yet as Jungcock.”

You giggle, an all too innocent and sweet sound for the way you’re palming at Jungkook’s dick. Jungkook, who is apparently having a rather difficult time keeping up with his surroundings while your fingers continue to work against him, scoffs. His eyebrows knit together as he throws a beady glare at the older boy.

“You’re ruining the mood,” he grunts.

Taehyung clicks his tongue against his teeth, a smirk tugging at his luscious lips. “Of course. I digress.”

You turn your attention back to Jungkook who’s staring down at your hand with parted lips and a crease in his brows. Without warning, you grasp him through his boxers and he groans suddenly, bucking forward. The desperation of his situation only seems to increase in severity when you peel back the elastic band of his boxers and slide them off his legs, finally freeing his dick which springs out from it’s confines. He’s much bigger than you expected, his tip angry and red, leaking with pearly beads that dribble down his length and the bulging veins that line it.

“You’re staring again,” Jungkook hums when he notices you pause, your eyes wide. “Sure you don’t like what you see?”

You shake yourself from your daze and frown. “Shut up.”

The boy starts to chuckle at your flustered expression but yelps when you clasp your fingers around the base of his cock. A beautiful moan falls from his lips and excites you even more. You start pumping him slowly, guiding your hands up and down his length in careful and measured motions, wiping your thumb across his tip each time you reach it. Jungkook shudders in your touch, his teeth coming down to gnaw hard on his lower lip. His eyes are glued to your hands working against him, his face scrunching up in pure euphoria.

“Mmm, fuck,” he grunts, his head lolling back. “Stop teasing me and go faster.”

You don’t listen. If anything, you slow your pace and it has him so frustrated that he lets an involuntary whimper escape him. He bucks into your clenched hand, practically begging for more but remains quiet, safe for his heavy panting.

“You heard her, Kook,” Taehyung says. “Beg for her.”

“There’s no way I’m begging,” Jungkook hisses through gritted teeth. “Never. I never have and never will.”

“Bullshit,” You scoff. You fondle at his balls with your other hand and he moans again. Your hand comes to a complete halt all of a sudden, interrupting Jungkook as he is about to speak. Before he can protest, you lean down and lick at his tip, swirling your tongue around him once to taste his saltiness. His hips rut forward into you but you pull back almost immediately and find Jungkook gaping. You meet his desperate eyes for a steady gaze. “Beg. Just once, Jungkookie.”

Jungkook’s stare wavers as you run your fingers along his tip, squeezing slightly. He tries to compose himself, to remain calm, but when you are relentless, he caves very easily. He only gives in when you kiss the base of his cock. And those eyes ━ fuck, the way your eyes turn so wide and already look so fucked out. How could he resist you?

“Fuck, fuck, okay,” he gasps. “I need more, baby, please. Ah, please━ You feel so fucking good.”

His needy pleas satisfy you and your lips curl into a devious grin. You lower yourself on him suddenly, licking a clean stripe up his length and he moans loudly. You enclose your mouth around his tip and suck, earning a small growl from him as he pushes his hips forward for more. In the next second, you sink your mouth down his length, taking as much of him as you can.

“Fuck!” he moans abruptly. “Ahh, shit, that feels amazing, baby.”

You hollow out your cheeks as you pull your head up and then back down, starting at an even pace that has him moaning and writhing beneath you. He feels much bigger in your mouth but you don’t mind even when he bucks himself into you unexpectedly and hits the back of your throat. The action makes you gag around him and, in return, he curses at the way it feels.

“K-Keep doing that,” he mumbles. “Please, fuck, just like that.”

His fingers thread in your hair and he pulls you down greedily on him but you don’t refuse.

“Can you do it, baby girl?” Taehyung questions. His hand finds his way on your back where he rubs gentle circles into your skin. “Can you take all of him in your mouth?”

You nod carefully around Jungkook’s hardened length.

“Good girl,” Taehyung smirks. “Go slow.”

You follow his orders, sinking gradually onto Jungkook until you feel the tip of him hitting the back of your throat. You gag once more but, instead of pulling back, you shut your eyes and take a few deep breaths in through your nose. In, out, in, out, and then you swallow. Jungkook’s reaction is sudden and intense. He bucks into your mouth unwillingly and moans even louder, his fingers clutching at your roots.

“That’s it, baby,” Taehyung hums and his sudden presence is comforting.

“A-Again,” Jungkook stammers. “Again, please━ holy shit, you feel amazing.”

You swallow again and then a third and each time you can feel yourself sinking lower onto him. Tears prickle at your eyes as your nose is suddenly pressed against his lower abdomen but his reactions are well worth it and so you continue.

“You’re doing so well, baby,” Taehyung says, planting a chaste kiss against your shoulder. “You deserve some more attention, hm?”

His fingers slowly rub circles down your back, his lips following your arch and has you shivering beneath him, before stopping at the dip just above your ass. He’s kneeling behind you now, his fingers massaging into your thighs. You sigh against Jungkook when you feel Taehyung’s fingers continue their trek to your ass, rubbing you carefully. You, in response, push your hips back, waiting for more.

“You’re still so wet, baby,” Taehyung says. “I bet you’d come with one touch of my finger.”

With Jungkook buried hilt deep inside your mouth, you’re hardly prepared for when Taehyung slips his fingers underneath to your folds. It’s embarrassing to admit how right he is. You react instantly, moaning around Jungkook and jutting your hips back for more. The simple vibration has Jungkook groaning, his hips bucking forward. You hadn’t even been aware of just how wet you are before Taehyung pointed it out but then you can feel it, pulsing out of you and dripping down the top of your inner thighs.

“But you need more, don’t you?” Taehyung asks. “How about my cock? Will you let me fuck you, baby girl?”

You nod eagerly, the simple question exciting you even more. Taehyung chuckles and leans down to press a kiss to the arch of your back.

“But you’ll have to be good and keep pleasuring Jungkook too, okay?” Taehyung says.

You hum in response and swallow around Jungkook as if to tell both boys that you have no plans on stopping. Jungkook twitches inside you and scrunches his eyes shut.

“Fuck, Taehyung,” he grumbles. “Hurry up. Any time you touch her, she swallows. It feels so good.”

Taehyung snickers but he takes his time. He runs his fingers up and down your folds until you’re moaning needily against Jungkook. You look over your shoulder to see Taehyung’s fingers wrapped around his own hardened and pulsating erection, pumping himself a few times as he stares at you carefully. He positions himself behind you and takes the chance to run his tip and length along your folds. You whimper suddenly, hoping your desperate noises will spur him on.

“You want more, baby?” Taehyung asks.

You hum again, your voice muffled and hoarse.

“Okay,” he sighs. “Only because you’ve been so good.”

You have no time to brace yourself from the sudden impact of feelings. He doesn’t do much except for push himself into you, past your folds. It’s only just the tip and yet your heart jolts in your chest, the coil in your stomach tightens. It feels so good to finally have something of larger girth in you that you gap, simultaneously sinking down further onto Jungkook. The two boys grunt above you, both of them panting hard.

“You feel so good, baby,” Taehyung mumbles. “Fuck, you’re so wet.”

He leans down to press a kiss against your shoulder, his other hand coming up to rest on the dip of your lower back to guide you. He slowly, so very slowly, pushes himself into you, inch by inch, so you can feel the way he stretches you open, feel the way he buries into you. Your leaking arousal only proves to be of an advantage, letting him easily push into you without any trouble. Your fingers grip the bed sheets beneath you in an ironclad grip and you squeak when he’s finally buried hilt deep within you. You nearly gag around Jungkook again, who’s still panting and writhing above you, but the way Taehyung’s tongue marks patterns into your shoulder comforts you. You whine against Jungkook, pushing your hips back for more and the simplicity of your action has Taehyung’s breath hitching in his throat.

“So warm,” he grunts and then sighs against your back. “You always feel so amazing.”

He still hasn’t moved and you’re beginning to grow impatient, distraught over the feeling of him rock hard inside you but unmoving. You debate pulling apart from Jungkook to yell at Taehyung but you assume he can understand your haste judging by the way your body writhes beneath him, your fingers clench into fists. He pulls out in one languid movement, his breath stuttering, until only his tip is left before he pushes himself back in, equally as slow. He sets at a steady, easy pace that, at the very least, lets you grasp onto some sensible thoughts and pushes you to keep pleasing Jungkook. Jungkook can’t take it anymore; he starts rutting his hips up into your mouth with gritted teeth. It’s a hot, erotic mess of mingled moans and groans but you never want it to stop ━ in fact, you want more.

“You like that, baby?” Taehyung grunts.

You nod hurriedly, humming in response.

“Ah, fuck━” Taehyung groans. “Want it harder?”

You nod once more, this time eagerly. When Taehyung pulls back one more time, he slams himself back into you without any warning and you jerk forward, sinking down onto Jungkook. The younger boy moans, his head lolling back as his fingers twisting in your hair. You don’t expect Taehyung to do the same thing again, pull out slowly and then push himself back in with more force, but he does, and he repeats the action again and again until he abandons it for a whole new pace. Soon, he’s thrusting into you hard and fast but always making sure his hips reconnect with yours before pulling out so you can feel him practically in your throat.

“Like being fucked like this?” Taehyung asks. “You like being used like a little slut?”

His thrusts are relentless suddenly, jerking your body and back and forth until he’s fucking you in a way that has you sucking off Jungkook just right so that you hardly have to put in any effort. Although his hard thrusts feel amazing, each time you’re pushed forward, you sink further down onto Jungkook unwillingly and that, paired with the way Jungkook frantically fucks himself into your mouth, you nearly gag each time as he hits the back of your throat, drool pooling at your lips and dribbling down your chin. Tears prick at your eyes from the feeling and it’s too pleasing to quit, to pull away from Jungkook just yet. Jungkook’s staring down at you when he notices your scrunched up face. You’re surprised when his hand finds your cheek, his thumb brushing reassuringly into your cheekbone.

“You’re doing so━ ah, fuck━ so well, baby,” he rasps.

You can taste the saltiness of precum on the tip of your tongue and you wonder how close he is. You have no qualms in finishing him off then and there but soon the pleasure you’re receiving from Taehyung becomes too much. Soon, he’s hitting you at an angle that shakes something in you. You pull apart from Jungkook with a loud pop, saliva and cum coating his length and your lips, and a gasp wretches from your throat.

“Fuck!” You cry hoarsely. “Ah, T-Taehyung!”

You’re too weak to push yourself up and end up burying your head in Jungkook’s lower abdomen, feeling the heat consume you. You’re near numb, senseless, as you let Taehyung ravish your body, fuck you hard into the mattress and Jungkook. It’s a frantic build up, an intense wave of emotions that you seem to pass through, and you can hardly bring yourself to react. All you can hear is the sound of moaning and skin against skin and the heat seems to make its way up to your head, making you warm and fuzzy. Jungkook gently pulls at your face, lifting you up and bringing you to him so that he can smash his lips onto yours and all you can taste is bitter liquor, you, and him, but that doesn’t stop him from sucking on your lower lip even when you pull apart to moan and gasp.

“T-Tae,” You sob. “Fuck, Tae, I━I’m c━close━”

“Cum for me, baby girl,” he murmurs. “Let me hear you.”

You shake your head frantically at the sensitive sting between your legs still raw from your orgasm from Jungkook, shutting your eyes. Taehyung’s hands find their way onto your hips and he pulls you down his length until you’re balls deep and pauses. He lifts your hips and you can feel him twitch inside you that it even makes your own thighs tremble and shake. You’re sure you’ll collapse on him if he doesn’t hold onto you and he must realize this too because he grips your hips tight to continue thrusting into you. Soon you’re tumbling towards your high. Taehyung’s pumps are frantic, growing sloppy with each passing second, as he pushes you to yours and his high. The coil snaps in your stomach again and you’re in a moment of freefall where you’re stunned by the wave of pleasure. Then, Taehyung is bringing you back down to reality with his hard thrusts, the way he moans, and the lewd wet sounds of him pumping himself into you.

“Ah, T-Tae━” You whimper. “So good, fuck━”

His name falls from your lips in a repeated mantra. You crumble beneath him, collapsing entirely against Jungkook, who’s brushing your hair away from your face. You’re shaking with each touch, your walls pulsing around Taehyung and clenching hard. He moans and curses behind you and you know he must be close to his high because he, too, is fumbling for it. His thrusts are even more hasty and soon he’s reaching his climax. His moans increase in volume and his thrusts become sloppier until he finally pulls his cock from your walls and nearly collapses against your back.

With his hand clenched tightly around his shaft, he jerks himself off until he’s releasing onto your back in white hot spurts. He’s panting hard, sweat coating his forehead, but he takes the time to press chaste kisses along your back and shoulders as the two of you attempt to calm your shrill hearts. It’s silent in the room for a moment despite your panting breaths. Taehyung takes a moment to grab his discarded shirt and wipe at the mess he’s made before he collapses next to you at long last with a huff of air. You moan wearily, rolling off of Jungkook to lay on your back between the two.

“God, you’re amazing,” Taehyung sighs.

You giggle up at the boy and lean towards him to kiss. His fingers rake in your hair and a few silent seconds pass before you’re nearly back to an even breathing pace. That’s when you notice Jungkook, his hand gripped tightly around his still painfully hard dick.

“Jungkook,” You pur his name, catching his attention. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like?” he quips.

“It’s your turn,” Taehyung points out. Jungkook glances at Taehyung and then down at you, quirking an eyebrow.

“W-Well, I just thought━” Jungkook stammers. “I just thought you’ve had enough. It’s okay, you don’t have to.”

“I call bullshit again,” You scoff.

“Baby girl,” Taehyung hums, “do you want Jungkookie to fuck you?”

You nod eagerly but Jungkook doesn’t seem too convinced, or maybe he’s hesitant. Taehyung’s eyeing him closely, curiously, before he gaps. He bursts out into a fit of chuckles, earning both yours and Jungkook’s attention.

“Shit, of course,” Taehyung grins. “He’s probably gonna let go the minute he’s in you. You’re close, hm?”

“Only because she’s already been down on me,” Jungkook grumbles.

“You know that’s not it,” Taehyung replies. “You’ve been wanting this forever.”

Jungkook’s eyes suddenly darken as he glares at the older boy. “Taehyung.”

“Wait, what?” You ask, turning to gawk at both.

“Jungkook has a little crush on you,” Taehyung smirks. “This is all he’s ever wanted. I bet he’ll bust a nut the second he fucks you and he’s embarrassed.”

You gasp as you turn to face Jungkook who looks entirely disgruntled but you’re more shocked about the fact that Jungkook likes you than anything else. Jungkook, notoriously arrogant fuckboy, who’s seemingly made it his mission to give you a headache every waking moment by trying to flirt with you. And maybe you’ve always sort of known it; maybe you’ve always sort of felt the same.

“That’s not true!” Jungkook protests. “I━I━ Well, Tae hardly finishes when he’s with another girl. He’s jacked off to the thought of you before, too━”

Taehyung starts. “Fuck off━”

You’re stuck between the bickering boys, staring up at both of them with a dumbfounded expression. Before either boy can strangle the other, you’re speaking up and interrupting them.

“I don’t mind,” You say. “I’m just… surprised.”

Both boys are silent now, aggravated probably, and you giggle. You reach up to rake your fingers in Taehyung’s hair and then look up at Jungkook, using your other hand to grab onto his chin once more and force him to face you.

“Come here, you idiot,” You drawl. “I want you to fuck me. Wanna feel your dick.”

Jungkook seems taken aback but then his eyes are sweeping down your body and he writhes in his seat. Before he can protest, you’re pulling him down onto you to kiss. It’s passionate and rough but hot altogether as your lips smack against one anothers. Jungkook’s desperate situation seems to hit him again, especially when you snake one of your hands down to his length and wrap your fingers around him to jerk him off. He pulls apart from you, gulping.

“Fuck, okay, okay,” he gasps. “I need to be in you right now, please.”

You and Taehyung smirk as Jungkook shifts around on the bed to kneel between your legs. He pauses, glancing up at you once more and noting the way you bite your lower lip seductively, before finally pushing himself in. He goes slow, but not as gradual as Taehyung. You can still feel him stretching you open and he groans. He seems to slide the rest of the way in with a lewd squelch sound because of just how wet you are and then he’s buried balls deep, fitting so snug within you.

“Holy shit,” he whines. “You weren’t kidding, Tae. She feels amazing.”

Taehyung hums in agreement. “What does she feel like? Let her know, Kookie.”

Jungkook squeezes his eyes shut momentarily to focus. “Wet,” he hisses through gritted teeth. “Warm, tight ━ fuck, so tight.”

He marvels at the feeling, wonders how you can still clench so tightly around him despite being stretched wide by Taehyung. He bows his head to rest in the crook of your neck and moans. His words are enough to spur on your own reaction and you whimper against him.

“Oh, fuck, Jungkook━”

The sensitivity you feel in your core met with his hard cock makes you cringe but simultaneously pleases you and you’re bucking your hips for more. He groans at the feeling, his hands flying down to grip your hips. He’s big, stretching you wide, but you feel anything but pain except for the sharp burning sensation as the intensity of your past orgasms start to hit you. He rolls his hips back and then thrusts into you so hard that you yelp and jerk back on the bed.

“Go easy on her, Jungkook,” Taehyung admonishes. “She’s not a doll.”

“I’m sorry,” Jungkook sighs, nipping at your throat. “You just feel so good, Y/N.”

“I’m okay,” You reassure. You feel his length twitch within you and your head lolls back. “Fuck, I feel more than okay.”

“Can we try something?” Taehyung asks.

He receives two weak nods in response. Jungkook pauses, shifts the two of you until he’s on his back and you’re straddling his hips, his dick never once slipping from your core. The older boy grabs onto you and yanks you onto his hips.

“What do you say we give Y/N the pleasure she deserves?” he asks. He pushes his length past your folds and is rewarded by the sound of your moans as your jaw unhinges. “Think you can handle both of us, baby?”

“Fuck, yes,” You gasp.

Jungkook seems just as enticed by this. He’s careful as he pushes his cock into you and your reaction is explosive. With Taehyung already stretching you wide, you wonder how Jungkook will fit but it’s snug and perfect. You can feel him stretching you further, inch by glorious inch, and he hasn’t even begun moving when your walls clench around the two of them. Taehyung hisses in your ear and Jungkook pauses at once, sputtering for air, giving you time to adjust. When Jungkook pushes himself further into your cunt, rubbing against Taehyung’s cock and your own walls, you can’t help the delicious moan that falls from your lips.

“Oh my god,” You whimper. “Fuck, fuck, that feels so fucking good━”

It’s such a sticky, hot mess, and all you can hear is the sound of guttural moans and grunts. You jut your hips forward, a silent plea for something more. Jungkook’s hand grasps at your ass and then he’s pulling out. He growls suddenly, thrusting his hips forward and the sensation suddenly overwhelms you. As he picks up a pace that leaves you breathless, Taehyung slowly thrusts into you and the pleasure becomes too much. Your hands reach out to grab at anything, fingers digging eagerly into Jungkook’s chest, Taehyung’s sides.

“Oh, fuck,” Jungkook grunts. His face is scrunched in pleasure and concentration, his mouth hanging open.

“You’re doing so well, baby,” Taehyung growls. “You like being stretched wide like this, huh? Such a good girl too. Fuck━”

He’s sweating, but so are you, and all you can hear is the sound of yours and the boys’ moans, the vulgar wet slap with each thrust Jungkook makes. It’s only amplified with each small leisurely thrust Taehyung makes into your throbbing pussy, his dick rubbing against Jungkook’s with each thrust. Your walls tighten around Jungkook and Taehyung as the seconds pass and you know you’re already close to your third orgasm of the night but you try to hold off despite the room spinning. All you can do is lay there for Jungkook to ravish and control, for Taehyung to enjoy, too caught up in the moment. Your breasts bounce wildly with each thrust Jungkook makes and his gaze seems fixated on your chest before flickering down to watch himself disappear inside you each time. Taehyung is raking his fingers through your hair, soothing you through your next climax and it’s close.

“Fuck,” Jungkook hisses, panting hard. “I’m not gonna last.”

You push your hips forward as if to probe him on and he growls.

“No, shit, let me enjoy this, baby,” he whines. “Ah, so tight━”

He’s grumbling to himself, cursing under his breath and you smirk tiredly. Jungkook leans his head down to kiss at your chest, catching one of your nipples in his warm mouth. His tongue swishes back and forth over the perked bud and your chest arches into his face. Your fingers are clutching tight at his hair even as he obeys and adds more force with each thrust, slowly picking up his pace. His mouth widens and he sinks lower on your breast, humming against you in pleasure. Taehyung’s own pace quickens. It’s not as relentless as Jungkook’s but he makes sure to help aid you to your high, ramming his hips into yours until both their cocks slip into a seamless pattern. All you can focus on is the crude wetness, the way their dicks threaten to slip from your hold at how sloppy and wrecked your cunt becomes.

“Ah, yes,” You hiss. “Fuck, yes, yes━ So good, oh my god━ Right there━”

Your voice is cut off by a loud moan. You feel the familiar wave hit you once more and this time you hardly have any strength to fight it off or welcome it.

“I can’t━” You wail suddenly. “Fuck, I can’t━ I’m gonna cum━”

You’re fumbling for words to warn him that you’re close before you’re cuming around them. Their names wrench from your throat in no discernible pattern, accompanied by vulgar curses. Your body writhes between the two boys, your chest arching into his mouth, your legs tightening around Jungkook’s waist.

“You’re doing so well, baby,” Jungkook coos. “Come on, wanna feel you cream all over us━”

Stars form behind your eyelids and explode into galaxies as they swirl down your spine and to the tip of your toes, making them and your fingers curl in delight. Your vision grows blurry and tears stream down your face at the build up of pressure finally being released for the third time and you can’t help it when your mantra turns into delighted sobs and whimpers. You’re clenched so tight that Jungkook feels as if he hardly has any space to move and the confinement of his length has him gasping. He pulls apart from your breast to watch your scrunched up face with hooded eyes. He moans again, and desperately leans down to suck at your jawline.

You’re too spent to keep up with him or Taehyung as he helps you further to your high but you know Jungkook is close when his thrusts become messy, quick spurts. You gasp each time he thrusts up into you until he’s finally cuming.

“Shit,” he hisses. “Gonna cum━ Gonna let us fill you up, baby?”

“Please, please, wanna feel it,” You mewl.

He slams his hips into yours and stills for a moment as he releases into you in one hot wave and emits a beautiful moan of your name. You’re panting hard even as he rides out both your highs with a few more incredibly sloppy pumps before he finally collapses against your chest. The two of you are struggling to catch your breaths, your heart beating in your ears.

The room is silent, blissful, and it takes you a few moments of basking in it before you’ve regained your breath. Your fingers rake in Jungkook’s soft and sweaty hair and you hum in content. His mouth presses a few open mouthed and hot kisses along your neck and jawline before connecting with your own mouth. This time, the kiss is chaste and you smile against his lips before he’s pulling out of you. You moan at the missing feeling of his warmth and the way his own cum leaks from your core, down Taehyung’s cock, and your own thighs.

But Taehyung isn’t done. He thrusts up into you to ride out his own high, pushing Jungkook’s release back into you. His pace is steady, deep, and all you can both do is moan and gasp for air.

“Fuck, Tae,” You rasp tiredly. “Cum for me, baby.”

The boy gasps for air, nearly fumbling behind you to reach his high. “Gonna make this pussy mine. Fuuck━”

When Taehyung finally reaches his own high, it’s in another sticky stream of hot cum, each fluid mingling with the other in a pitiful mess. He pulls his slackened length from you and you whimper at sudden the loss, core and legs aching. As you slide onto the bed between the two tired and breathless boys, Jungkook wipes at your glistening core with a shirt and you sigh in content.

“Why haven’t we done that before?” You gasp, earning a chuckle from both. Jungkook lets out a boisterous laugh and you flick his arm. “If you say anything dumb, we’re never having a round two.”

“Round two?” he asks, wriggling his brows. “You want this to happen again?”

You nod, though you can already start to feel yourself succumb to sleep as it creeps upon you. “What do you think, Tae?”

“I think,” The older boy hums, “that’s your best idea yet.”

Jungkook seems surprised, excited even, and you smile sleepily. Taehyung throws his arm over your waist and pulls your back to his chest, wrapping you in his arms as he slips off to sleep. 

Before you fall asleep that night, you snake your arm up Jungkook’s chest and let your hand rest against his beating heart which you can still feel beating shrilly even long after your messy night together.

You awake to the familiar sound of your alarm.

It’s loud, annoying, and jolts you awake only to toss you into a haze of muddled confusion and an incredibly terrible hangover. Your head throbs and your body aches. Sunlight splashes in from the closed blinds and illuminates your face, making you squint.

“Turn that off, Jesus Christ, Y/N,” Taehyung snaps, his voice muffled and aggravated.

Your mind is too groggy to realize he’s sleeping next to you, too groggy to suddenly remember what happened the night before. Until, of course, you feel your limbs tangled with not only Taehyung’s but another’s. When you crane your neck to look, you see Jeon Jungkook splayed out beside you sleeping peacefully and you gasp.

The events of the night before suddenly flood your mind and everything is hazy up until your wild time with the two boys. Your muddled sober mind alerts your heart and suddenly it’s beating hard and fast in your chest as you register the situation. You’re used to waking up with a naked Taehyung by your side but never were you used to waking up next to a naked Taehyung and Jungkook.

Jungkook stirs in his sleep then and you curse silently, diving for your phone on the floor before realizing your drastic mistake. Your core is still tender and your legs feel so delicate, nearly caving in beneath you as you wobble precariously. Somehow, you manage to grab your phone and tap the snooze button hastily. Taehyung’s still half asleep on his side but Jungkook lays on his back and you’re surprised to see him looking up at you with a quirked eyebrow and a tiny smirk.

“Don’t you dare say anything,” You hiss. “Holy shit, that wasn’t a dream?”

You gnaw on your lower lip and reach down blindly to grab the nearest article of clothing on the floor (one of Taehyung’s shirts) to toss over your bare body. To soothe your aching muscles, you resort to kneeling on the edge of the bed.

“It wasn’t,” Taehyung murmurs.

“Nice to know you think our dicks are dream worthy though,” Jungkook snorts. “So when’s our round two?”

Your promise from the night before dawns on you all too suddenly and, though you feign your usual annoyance for both boys, the potential prospect of another night with the two of them thrills you to no end.  

“I━ I━” You stammer.

“Come back here, baby,” Taehyung muses. “It’s too early to be up right now. You can sleep a bit longer before you pretend you hate the both of us.”

Your eyes flicker down to your phone to check the time: 6 a.m. You can barely walk, let alone function this early in the morning, even without the added stress of your hangover, and sleep seems far too appealing to ignore. Maybe you can stay for a few more hours…

“Fine,” You grumble. You crawl back between them and wiggle around until you’re laying back on the bed. “But you’re making me that cup of coffee when I wake up, Taehyung.”

“Anything else, princess?” Taehyung grins.

“Maybe run me a bath too,” You wince as you settle back against the bed. “Everything hurts.”

“Will do,” Jungkook says. “Gotta do the most to make sure we get that second round. Now, come here━”

The boys snicker and, soon, the three of you have slipped back into a peaceful slumber.

You know that when you wake you’ll profusely deny that the night before and the morning after had ever happened; that you’ll never again find yourself in either Jungkook’s or Taehyung’s bed, much less with the both of them at the same time ━ but you find that you never really listen much to rules anyway.

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[tteokdoroki]

what he lost | k.bakugou.

⇝ pairing: katsuki bakugou x fem!reader.

⇝ word count: 5.4K

⇝ rating: for everyone.

⇝ genre: pro hero!au, exes!au, angst.

⇝ summary: back then; he was young, dumb and a little too prideful, taking your love for granted. now, years down the line he wonders if he’ll ever stand a chance in getting you back or the one in which katsuki bakugou grew up a little too late.

⇝ warning(s): please read ! heavy angst, no happy ending, mentions of toxic relationships, emotional distress, mentions of violence ( explosions, fight scenes, knives, blood ) and cursing all around.

⇝ author’s note(s): greetings everyone!! i hope you’re all doing well, today’s one-shot is a request from @killakatsuki​​, i know you wanted a happy ending but i got a little ahead of myself eee !! anyways thank you all for 400+ followers, i love you all :(

⇝ masterlist | requests

“katsuki bakugou if you leave me right now, please... please don’t come back.”

bakugou had always hated that, he thought, casting his gaze elsewhere in the room. he always hated how you cried when you were angry, red hot tears stinging a pathway down the apples of your usually glowing cheeks.

he couldn’t quite place the reasoning as to why. maybe it was because you rarely ever found yourself angry or perhaps it was how pathetic you looked when your bottom lip wobbled and your harsh words were laced with watery sobs.

or maybe it was because he didn’t want to feel sorry for you, didn’t want to comfort you when he was too prideful to admit that you were right. “whatever, don’t tell me what the fuck to do.” he spits, eyes and voice full of a venom he barely ever uses against you. he watches with a scarlet gaze as you falter, as if a knife has dug deep into your heart and cut you all up but bakugou only scoffs and continues to pack his side kick costume into the duffle bag he’s got on your shared bed.

every fibre of his being is tell him to reach out for you and apologise, he knows that he’s wrong. keeping his late night shifts from you, working extra hours— of course you were going to worry but he needed you to understand that being a hero was his dream above all else. the last thing he needed was a distraction like you.

something in you changed that night, both of you. as the rain hit hard on the roof of your shared apartment, even as you took his things and threw them out into the hall and even as you gave him one last chance on the doorstep. “you can leave now and not comeback or you can stay and we’ll talk this through—“ your eyes spoke to him in a silent plead, asking him if he would really give up the life that you’d built for lies and a better job?

but you knew the answer already.

“like i said,” katsuki rolled his eyes as knowing sobs wracked your body. “i never needed you anyways.”

you slammed the door before he could walk away and forget the tears in your eyes.

six years later and katsuki is pissed.

he’d been irritable since this morning when his interns fucked up the paperwork at his agency— leaving him to clean it up and then when his assistant brought him the wrong coffee and forgot to notify him of the pro hero meeting he was currently attending right at this very minute.

of course heroes of all different calibers were present; including none other than the number two, shoto todoroki, who was in charge of directing this week’s patrol missions but something about that only grinds the explosive pro’s gears even more. although, he could see himself being even more pissed if the number one; deku had shown his face instead of being away on an overseas mission. the schedule for this week’s patrol sits heavily in bakugou’s hand and he almost wants to burn it to pieces just at the thought of working with his future partner.

‘yn ln.’

the sight of your name printed in block capitals next to his has the ash blonde reeling, glancing up to send a blazing scowl towards shoto. he feels set up, as if the half hot, half cold bastard is dangling you right in front of him— its not like todoroki doesn’t know the history that sits between bakugou and yourself, after all,  he had been the friend you’d ran off to during the fight that ended your five year relationship.

it’s like todoroki had a sixth sense because by the time he’d finish announcing the pair ups, he’d tiredly caught wind of katsuki’s heated stare. “bakugou—“

“i wanna fuckin’ switch, icyhot.”

“you can’t.”

bakugou stands from his seat next to kirishima ( who only looks apologetically at his colleagues ), annoyance rippling through his veins as he approaches the taller male. “why the fuck not?” he growls, small explosions sparking in the palms of his sweaty hands ( he was undeniably nervous because of the impending patrol ) the group of heroes simultaneously sigh— having been used to the explosive pro’s usual outbursts.

todoroki sighs, running his cooler hand over his face. “because the pairs have been matched up by quirk and strength, on top of that they were done in advance so if you really have a problem with it then i suggest you take it up with the number one—“ the dual quirked hero falls silent, a triumphant smirk appearing on his lips as red riot pulls his friend away before it’s too late.

“dude, you can’t just go blowing people up!” the red head scolds beneath bakugou’s sailor mouth, wrestling him over to the couch.

katsuki feels defeated, there’s no way to get out of this situation. he’s done his best these last few years to avoid you like the plague. it was somewhat easy, considering you were lower in the ranks compared to him, so there wasn’t much time to interact anyway. but katsuki hated the fact that he had always thought you would fall below him.

nonetheless; he took to switching event time tables around, rejecting hang outs with his old high school friends... all to avoid you, and now that he had to see you face to face, he wasn’t sure how to react. would you still hate him? how did you feel about working with him?

there’s not much time to dwell on the thought for kirishima is already patting his back and guiding him out of the meeting as it ends, the promise of drinks at an ‘heroes only bar’ hanging in the air.

“you’re so handsome, ground zero ! thank you for protecting japan !”

bakugou can feel the bile rising in the back of his throat at the words from the sickly sweet fan, so he gives a nonchalant grunt in response as he finishes up his signature on her notebook before continuing his march to your hero agency. it’s been a few days since the meeting between the pro heroes and all the number three wants is to make it to your agency without being fawned over by more obsessive fans.

he gives the fan a casual wave, ignoring the look of disappointment on her face— either she was expecting his number or for him to grow bashful under her flurry of compliments but katsuki was never one for fan service.

he hated fans that expected something from him, ones who wanted more than a casual chat with their favourite pro hero but he wouldn’t let them in. they didn’t want the intimate, vulnerable sides of katsuki bakugou like you had— maybe that made the ash blonde stuck on you.

yn ln was the only girl in his life who had tried to understand the many layers of the hot headed hero, you saw past his aggressive nature and touched the deepest parts of his soul…parts that you longed to love and keep safe.

you’d loved him for who he was below the surface, not for the money and fame he had come to amass as number three in the ranks.

behind scarlet eyes are the best moments of the hero’s life, each shared with you. katsuki had took for granted the seconds you had been with him, even from the very start— he didn’t care for the way that you held him after he’d been kidnapped, clinging onto him like he’d disappear or would never return to your arms, he should have cherished the tears of worry you shed for him too but katsuki was too prideful at the time.

too full of himself even with his raging nightmares that you had managed to soothe.  

you’d comforted him after he’d failed the licensing exams, promised him he’d still get to be the greatest hero of all time and still, bakugou had cared for none of this. now that he’d thought about it, he hadn’t been good to you, he didn’t know how you’d dealt with they way he undermined your quirk and doubted your ability to protect him when he should have been the one to protect you.

your love was wasted on him, and for that bakugou needed to apologise.

hands in his pockets, katsuki’s mind could have been said to be away with the fairies, haunted by the night he came home with a half hearted apology on his lips to an empty apartment and a note from you. something about staying with the icyhot bastard and not to contact you.

that is until he collided with the back of someone in the crowd. “hey!” he’s quick to growl out to the figure, a slight snarl to the words leaving his mouth. “watch where you’re going, shitty extra—“

“ah, katsuki! nice to see you haven’t changed,” your voice sends shivers down the blonde’s spine, bright red eyes focusing on you and only you. your smile is bright, dazzling under the hot japan sun and even if katsuki hadn’t changed, you certainly had— your pretty eyes he used to get lost in, he used to watch glimmer with tears now hold a different kind of light, they greyish hue that dulled you over your time with him had finally cleared.

you looked healthy, happier and bakugou realises how much your relationship must’ve wore you down.

he feels like he doesn’t deserve the grin that you give him; the one you would save just for him in the early mornings you’d spent together back when you were dating. maybe that makes his heart jumps out of his chest.

“y-yn— “

he hadn’t prepared himself for your sweet, airy giggle that fills the space between you. “ground zero getting shy on me now? don’t tell me you forgot about our shift today, did’ya?”

“n-no, ‘course not, dumbass.” fuck, katsuki’s heart thumps against his ribcage so loud that he’s afraid you might hear it with the little distance between you. since when did you make him nervous? despite the pet name, you still give him a laugh as a flicker of fondness twinges in your bright eyes.

it’s quickly replaced when you blink it away, beckoning ground zero into your hero offices. “nice to see that sailor’s mouth hasn’t changed either ,” you mumble more so to yourself than him. bakugou walks a few paces behind you while you explain to him that you have to finish assigning your sidekicks and interns a few low level missions before you can head off for the day.

the group of young heroes are excitable, seemingly loving the opportunity to work with you— their chatter is loud but it gives katsuki time to drink you in.

crimson eyes travel over your form while you talk— your hero costume has changed a lot since your U.A and sidekick days.

you’d interned under the number two at the time, hawks, thus leading you to have become one of his most trusted sidekicks. no doubt; his skill level had not only  improved your abilities, how you controlled your quirk but your costume as well.

your quirk was known as lullaby, if you could sing a tune in the right pitch to certain groups of people, it allowed you control over the abilities and to put them to sleep. this obviously however meant you were poor at short distance attacks— something bakugou always teased you for, so he was excited to see how you’d improved.

your suit had a visor that allowed you to amplify your quirk, while patterns of the night sky dressed your body— paying homage to your hero name ‘nightsky’.

katsuki felt bad to imprinting the image of your skin tight, midnight blue suit into his mind but back when he had known you like you were his, your costume hadn’t been nearly as advanced as this.

snapping fingers pull him from his thoughts before they can get too hazy.

“eyes are up here, explosion boy.”

katsuki’s gaze snaps up to meet yours, an angry red to rival his gemstone eyes spreading like wildfire across his cheeks. “i wasn’t staring.” he tries his best to defend himself, but your knowing look tells him that you’ve caught him red handed.

“of course you weren’t, sidekicks left about ten minutes ago so we can head out  now—unless you want to keep glaring daggers at my boobs, katsu.” you’re teasing him, voice dripping like honey off of a spoon as you waltz back out onto the streets of japan and leave a bewildered ground zero behind you.

you’ve changed so much since your relationship ended with bakugou, you’re stronger, a vixen and more confident in yourself.

and he hates knowing that he’s the one that kept you down all this time.

patrol remains uneventful even as the afternoon goes on and the stress of japan begin to fill with citizens for the oncoming rush hour.

the lack of action has lead your conversation to die within the wind and leaves katsuki alone with his thoughts for the time being— you only really speak when you catch the blonde staring you down or when he accidentally walks into something ( highly unusual for him ) but he enjoys the seconds where your teasing voice tickles the tips of his ears and you smile so wide his own lips pull into somewhat of a grin.

bakugou doesn’t know why he’s so quiet, not when the storm in his mind brews all the words he should have said to you years ago. the apologies, the grateful thanks that you deserved; none of these could fall from his tongue.

he liked to say he never had the opportunity, which was partly true you were both up and coming herores yes, but you had damn well made sure you’d never have to encounter bakugou unless the situation required it. and it seemed, that years down the line, he was still doing the same.

the thought alone cause nerves to choke him from the inside out, building up in his throat until all he can do is grunt in frustration—  kicking an empty can along the road you’re currently walking down.

“that’s unlike you,” your chuckle cuts through the thick fog of katsuki’s mind, drawing deep red eyes towards your frame. you walk in front of him now, arms folded behind your head while you step backwards— the sight almost comical to anyone passing by. bakugou must look just as shocked because some how he manages to pull the cutest snort from you, even as his face morphs into a snarl and he marches forward to fall into pace with your steps. your eyes dazzle with your next words. “the great katsuki bakugou, quiet? never thought i’d see the day.”

you’ve always been able to read him like an open book, seeing right through the front he puts on. “i haven’t changed.” he grunts through his teeth.

katsuki stops walking when you do, now standing a breaths width away from you. electricity jumps between you both, static forming in the finger tips that just barely brush against bakugou’s arm.

your eyes spell it out for him, clear as day, as you finally reach out to touch him. His own close at the brief gesture, the pain from having lost you blooming across his chest.

“you did.” you breathe out,  the warmth of your soft voice making katsuki’s eyes screw shut.

he could never get a lie past you.

“we both did.”

vermillion eyes open, trying to seek you out in the light of the day as bakugou wills and prays that he can say what he needs to right now, to get you back but he doesn’t have the chance as an explosion cuts through the building on your left.

bakugou manages to wrap his arms around you, shielding you from the blast before you hit the ground. the impulse sends you  both rolling down the street, small grunts escaping you until you roll to a halt and end up on top of katsuki— straddling him.

dust and debris surrounds the pair of you, creating a thick smog in the air as sirens and screams sound off in the distance. the explosive hero groans in pain— no doubt with a litter of bruises forming under his suit but he has no time to register the sting properly before he’s noticing you on top of him, smirk on your face, devilish glint to your eye.

you’ve been waiting for some action all day.

you’re gone in the blink of an eye, so you must have a plan. katsuki remembers from high school that you made up for strategy where you once lacked in strength, so it’s no surprise to him that you’re already on the move. meanwhile; you manage to slide undetected through the smoke, moving fast to take out the low level criminals.

it’s only a robbery, but the explosion could have caused more casualties than you would have liked. you trust that bakugou can take care of the civilians and bring them out of harms way as you do your best o sus out the ringleader.

the grey tinted fog that sweeps over the area allows you both to work quickly; neither of you need to say anything, for one it would give away your position and secondly— there’s an underlying trust in one another that the two of you had built up when you worked together while dating.

bakugou, through his end, tackles down the small group of criminals after clearing the area and making sure no one was hurt. emergency services had been alerted and were already on their way, all there was now, was to predict your next movements and follow your lead. he’d never liked being bossed about, but the look in your eye made him believe you knew what you were doing.

you were right, you’d both changed. you might as well have been a better hero than him.

the ash blonde follows the trail of unconscious wannabe villains to your whereabouts, he only knows that they’re unconscious because of your ability to put people to sleep with your quirk— all you had to do was get close to them, which wouldn’t have been hard as katsuki knew first hand that these guys’ quirks weren’t shit.

“it’s almost funny, how you thought you could pull a stunt like this on a day when all of japan’s biggest heroes are in one place,” bakugou’s ears pick up on you teasing the criminal leader with that smooth chocolate voice and he follows it deeper into the air that’s heavy with debris— glad you were able to find him before the smoke cleared. “even with the number one out of town, tsk, you should have known better…”

the hot headed pro spots you, holding the hooded ringleader in a choke hold with only your thighs as you sit on his shoulders— eyes wide with victory.

he recognises the dip in your voice as you adjust your tone to put the guy to sleep and call it a day. you’re powerful, a great pro and bakugou watches with awe while you get ready to take this guy down once and for all.

“so cocky, nightsky— why do you think we chose attack the street you were on?” the guy spits through clenched teeth, resisting the urge to succumb to your lullaby of a voice.

brows furrowing, you decide not to dwell on the criminal’s words before leaning down to whisper. “sleep...” but katsuki’s body comes alive with fear as the villain wannabe jams a blade into your thigh, causing your grip on him to loosen enough for him to throw you to the floor and put a boot to your throat. “oh miss nightsky, you really rely too much on your quirk and not enough on your senses. hmm, i think it’s time we say goodnight, don’t you?” the guy chuckles while you squirm under his foot— the need for air burning sharply at your lungs.

bakugou, who’s remained hidden this entire time feels himself snap— a heavy explosion loading up behind his gauntlets while he launches himself right into the scene. he won’t let you struggle for your life, not on his watch. “GET YOUR FILTHY FUCKIN’ HANDS OFF OF HER!”

he reaches the criminal just before your eyes roll back into your head, an explosive right hook colliding with their cheek and sending them flying down the street.

the ash blonde reaches down to pull you up into his chest, that very same one heaving with laboured breaths; you’re shaking but it’s nothing you can’t handle even with the red lines at your throat.

“you good?”

“better, thanks to you.”

there’s a look that you wear right now, one that katsuki recognises from years of training and running into fights with you— you want to do the move. he nods at you, vermillion eyes lighting up with a bright fire while you grip onto ground zero’s wrists.

just as the villain stands, you kick your feet off the ground and in the meantime bakugou begins to twirl you in circular motions until you’ve built up enough momentum for him to throw you towards the criminal.

you collide with his back foot first, knocking him to the ground as your eyes glow a bright white. “i said, go the fuck to sleep.”

the criminal drops to sleep and you roll to the ground after taking him out. you smile to yourself at the familiar wail of sirens in the background but don’t bother to make an effort to stand up, letting the exhaustion, pain from the wound in your thigh and bruises at your neck finally flood your body.

sitting beside you, bakugou smirks and holds a fist out to you. “still got it,” he gestures between the pair of you, the same signature move you’ve been doing since high school having worked successfully once again.

“still got it.” you look up to the now clear sky, fist bumping bakugou right back.

he’s going to do it, he thinks, he’s going to apologise.

after everything you and bakugou had been through, something in his chest was relieved to know that you didn’t hate him, something in him is lead to believe that you’re going to give him another chance.

katsuki watches you now, an attendant from the paramedics that you called working on patching up the gash in your thigh while you rub a salve into your neck.

despite the pain you must be in; you’re still glowing, still smiling even when fans ask you for autographs or tell you how brave you were during the fight. you’re so genuine, such a ray of sunshine in the world and bakugou can feel himself falling for you all over again.

“Is that all mr. ground zero, sir?” an officer asks, taking down notes for the report about the incident. the hero nods, waving the kid off after giving them all of the details from today. they thank him and he finds himself marching over to you almost immediately, now that you’re all bandaged up.

“walking already, ln? are you sure it doesn’t hurt?”

you beam up at the ash blonde, hopping out of the back of the ambulance and rubbing at the tear in your hero costume where the cut is. “it’s good, stings a little but i’ve seen worse on you,” you comment to him, beginning your stride back to your agency.

“and who’s fault is that, dumbass?” a genuine laughter bubbles in bakugou’s throat, albeit raspy, its not a foreign sound to your ears and it makes you laugh along with him.

he knows you’re referencing the many times you’d kicked hiss ass when sparring from high school to your side kick days. back then you‘d have traced every scar that littered his pretty body and told him how much you loved him.

katsuki aids you while you head back to the nightsky agency, you insist that you don’t need help to walk but you’re limping and the explosive pro hero is stubborn as hell— he’s not about to let you get hurt again, even if its physically and not mentally like he had done to you before.

with the lighter mood, memories flitter between you both— you mention how katsuki used to love his food so spicy you would cry and he brings up the time you had given him and kirishima a bout of food poisoning when you’d come up with an alternative to the latter’s cooking. the stories don’t seem to end even as you lean into him more; trusting him again.

“about what i said earlier…” you begin after finally coming to a halt outside your agency building, a scarlet gaze full of fondness lands on you. you turn to face him with the softest of smiles, half chewing on your bottom lip— something he knew you did when you were nervous. “you’re different, to how…how you were back then and it’s good, katsuki you’re so good…”

there’s a breath of silence, only filled by the quiet hum of city traffic where people are travelling to and from home. “i’m glad i had time to become good,” bakugou offers, forgoing the words ‘for you’ and pausing instead. “i regret who i was back then, with you… thought it made you hate me and that you wouldn’t fuckin’ work with me today.”

you shake your head, breaking contact with bakugou to paw at the stupid tears preparing to make their way down your cheeks. “i-i did hate you for a while, after everything…but we were young and dumb and—“ you freeze as the ash blonde wipes a stray tear from your cheek, you not having realised that it’d escaped. “and i’m so thankful to have met you, to have shared a love with you, you taught me so much and that i could never hate you for.”

“yn...i—“ i love you. i’m sorry. i should have loved you better. the words are there, the ones that katsuki always told himself he would say to you if he had the chance but he finds himself frozen and unable to speak. why? why now? when the perfect chance sat right in front of him, the perfect time for him to make it up to you.

to start over.

“yes, katsuki?”

to get you back.

“yn i’m sorry—“

“—guess who?”

a sing song voice full of positivity bursts through the moment while a pair of hands clasp their way over your pretty eyes and hide them away from the world.

bakugou instantly recognises the voice as belonging to none other than his childhood rival and number one pro hero, deku. he seems to have changed— grown taller, green hair shaved at the sides for an undercut.

the ash blonde isn’t very sure what else has changed, but then again they hadn’t seen much of each other as sidekicks, working under different agencies with different missions.

it was only as they started competing for the top ranks that they started to run the same circles— but bakugou had no idea how you would’ve come to know deku since the blonde hated him and you were dating each other for most of that time.

katsuki is just about to tell the green haired idiot to ‘fuck the fuck off’ for ruining his moment when you do the unexpected.

you clasp your hands over midoriya’s, cheeky smile gracing your lips as you attempt to pull them away from your face. “let me think, could it be? izuku midoriya?” relenting to your cheery voice— deku pulls away from you, hands falling to grip your waist sweetly. possesively. horror flashes behind bakugou’s raging red eyes. you turn in his rival’s strong arms, smiling so hard that it delves deep into the apples of your cheeks. “izu ! when did you get back? i thought you wouldn’t make it in time for today…”

“flew in this morning doll, i wanted to surprise you—“ the number one beams down at you and bakugou’s world crumbles when you cut him off while pressing a chaste kiss to deku’s lips right in front of his eyes.

this couldn’t be happening...since when were you and the damn nerd a thing? why didn’t he realise? why didn’t he grow up and try and get you back sooner?

he has no choice but to sit and stare, a dark cloud now sitting over his shattered heart.

all the while, you’re giggling into deku’s lips, fumbling over his hands that pinch at your sides just to get you to gasp enough for him to kiss you more.  the painful ( well, only for the explosive pro ) lip lock ends when you both come up for air and your eyes land on your ex boyfriend.

“ah, katsuki ! you remember deku right? wait that’s a dumb question you were literally childhood friends—“ you start to ramble, mind getting away from you and katsuki barely registers anything that leaves your lips. his crimson eyes lock with the emerald ones that stare right back at him and hurt swells in his chest.

to deku, he must look like a kicked puppy. a weakling. a loser.

all the things he had labelled izuku midoriya when they were kids.

when bakugou tunes back into your excited rambling, his heart cracks even more in his chest. “this green giant flew all the way in from overseas to come home for wedding planning ! can you believe it?”  the answer to your question is an obvious no.

he had no idea that you had been seeing the number one, let alone being engaged to him. the hot headed hero freezes in his spot when you reach down the chest of your hero costume to pull out a silver necklace.

on the end of it, an engagement ring with a tiny emerald in it’s centre.

katsuki bakugou feels sick, bile rising up in his throat. he’d really lost you. really. “...pretty thing that is, congratulations.” he mentions blankly, eyes trained on midoriya once again. you don’t notice, but deku does and bakugou hates the sympathetic, apologetic look that the fucking nerd gives him.

“mhm ! izu put it on a necklace for me because, well you know, i’m clumsy and didn’t want to lose the thing,”

you’re so clueless that it hurts, burning katsuki from the inside out. that should be him. it should be his arms around you, his lips on yours, his engagement ring on that fucking necklace. not deku’s, not anyone’s. the green headed hero beside you seems to notice the distress ebbing away at your ex and tilts your head up to look at him. “doll, why don’t you head inside and change into something more comfy real quick? we’ve got cake tasting in an hour…”

the tail end of deku’s words are drowned out by your happily animated squeal and with a quick nod you press a kiss to his freckled cheek and bounce inside— missing the way bakugou winces at your display of affection.

it’s quiet despite the bustling sounds of the city but neither if them know what to say, even as the minutes pass.

bakugou knows that you’d be better off with deku, he would treat you right and give you the love that you deserved all along. but that didn’t make it any less painful.

“kacchan, look...“ the number one says eventually, green eyes swirling with guilt. “i’m sorry—“

the blonde shakes his head, spitting his words out through gritted teeth. “don’t...just,” fuck, it hurts to breathe. “just…take care of her for me, you got that deku?”

“yeah, of course…”

the pair of childhood rivals don’t have much time to speak after that, for you’re already bounding out of your agency wearing a comfortable mint green summer dress and pair of red sneakers to rival deku’s, despite the thick bandage to your thigh.

“ready to go?” you ask your fiancé, face as warm and as bright as it had once been when you used to look at bakugou. izuku nods, delight dancing in his eyes despite the nervous chew to his bottom lip, before letting you turn to your ex lover. “great ! well, see you around kasuki, don’t be a stranger ! we’ve got to catch up again sometime, alright?”

you link arms with izuku midoriya, your fiancé, after that—walking away and  leaving ground zero in the dust.

he doesn’t know how long he stands there for, heart in his hands even while he comes to the realisation that you hadn’t gone to todoroki that night when you’d left. no, you’d only told him that so it hurt a little less when he found out midoriya had been the one to look after you. you’d lied because you’d loved him.

you lie because you love him.

and it was only now that katsuki bakugou had realised what he’d lost.

#tteokdoroki #bnha #mha #bnha x you #bnha x reader #mha x you #mha x reader #mha imagines #mha smut #bnha smut #bnha imagines #mha angst #bnha angst #mha fanfic #bakugou #katsuki bakugou #izuku midoriya #deku #bakugou x reader #bakugou x you #bakugou headcanons #bakugou smut #bakugou fanfiction #bakugou angst #bakugou imagine #bakugou fluff #katsuki bakugou smut #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x you #deku x reader

[arcadejohn127-9]

Ahhh I love your writing sm!! Could I request how the brothers would react to an MC that's super doting and overly loving from the get-go?. Always insists on helping w cooking duty, brings the brothers coffee if they look busy, etc? pls & ty!

Tbh I don't really have a love language over than verbal but this speaks to me

In game I make my MC very much like this, overly positive and always wanting to help. Not because I have to, I could easily pick more honest or teasing options but when it comes to it. My first instinct/Response is those options because I like the idea of being helpful to people

It's only when people start using that for their advantage or make me help them out even though I'm busy or just don't want to do it. That's when there's an issue.

Lucifer:

"oh~ Luci! You still working?"

You peered over at him at his desk, peaking from the space between the wall and the stair railing

He looked up at you with a tired expression, frowning

"I am, what do you need?"

you trotted down the rest of the steps, walking over to him with a bright smile

A tray in hand with coffee and biscuits and apple slices

"I made these for you, I know it isn't much but you're always working so hard... perhaps I can help?"

Lucifer wasn't too surprised, you were always offering your help whenever you could but it still surprised him you were so quick to offer

He didn't know how you had all that energy to face the day and then do more for others but he always enjoyed your company

"be my guest."

You grabbed a mini stool and sat beside him, you'd read over papers with him, massaging his hand whenever you noticed it cramped

He shared the snacks you got him and even revealed the mini snack draw he had in his desk

He put a finger to his lips with a smile

"don't tell my brother's, this will be just between you and me."

He showed you what he had and you picked whatever caught your fancy, happily eating as you looked over the papers

Mammon:

He wasn't use to Someone being nice to him so when you came along and offered acts of service - he was blown away!

Even over time he wasn't really use to it

Speaking of you and your acts or service; you were whistling a happy tune

A thick wallet in your pocket, you headed straight to mammons room

It was as if he could smell the money, he rushed to your side and started eyeing the wallet

"Stop peeking - it's a gift."

He looked at you confused but was grinning

"oh? The great Mammon can't refuse a gift!"

You placed the wallet in his hand, he let out a yelp at the weight of it

It was completely loaded!!! It was stuffed with money!

He couldn't believe it - it had to be a trick! There was no way you were giving him this much money!

"Are ya playing with me? Ha ha human."

"no tricks, you've been struggling with your debt to the witch's so I thought I'd help, I heard you've been getting in trouble with Lucifer more because of it so I wanted to help!"

He didn't even realize he teared up, he jumped towards you and hugged you close

Nuzzling your faces together as he hugged you tight

"You-! YOU DAMN HUMAN- NO YOU ANGEL! YOU'RE THE BEST THING THAT'S HAPPENED TO ME!"

You patted his arm, laughing and it wasn't long before he was planning to spend a big splurge on you despite his issues with money already

Levithan:

He was shuffling into his room, headphones on and just starting to calm down

Today was hectic so he was happy to finally be back home

"Evening! Don't worry, I still used the secret password."

"HUH-?! THAT'S NOT- WHY ARE YOU IN MY ROOM?!"

He threw his headphones off, face bright red

He should of known you were up to something, you kept humming whenever you entered his room

Talking about cleaning up after himself but he kept forgetting due to getting distracted

"I noticed it's gotten really messy so I decided to clean it for you but before you say anything, I know you hate when it's cleaned because you don't know where anything so I've labelled where everything has been stored if it's changed places."

He was still upset, he REALLY hated it when things are changed without him knowing first

But he looked around the room and sure enough, things were still in the cupboards and places he stacked them in and the labels were correct

Everything was completely organized! All the piled up ramen was even gone!

He exhaled a long breathe calming himself down, he was happy - really really happy

"Thanks.... just - can we arrange something next time? But I do like what you did! It looks nice - it's much better now!"

"of course, I'll ask next time - also~ I got you some special ruri-chan themed chips in hopes to make you feel better."

He moves before he knows it, hugging you tight

"STAY WITH ME FOREVER!!!!"

He's definitely embarassed afterwards and gets you out of his room before he makes himself look more like a love sick fool

But don't worry, he texts you wanting to hang out later

Satan:

Satan has been locked in his room after having a big outburst earlier that day

He got overwhelmed from all the noises and threw a book at mammon

You waited awhile before going after him, wanting him to calm down and looked after mammons sore head

You grabbed the book he threw, making a nice calming tea and even made some Apple pie

When you knocked his door he freezed

"Who is it-?! Lucifer, I'm not in the mood for your scolding-"

"it's just me, I got you something!"

He opened the door for you, letting you inside

His room looked clean for once - you didn't doubt he continued his rage into his room and cleaned up to calm down

You offered him a smile, placing the tray on his bed

"I hope you like it, I made it myself."

He looked at the fresh apple pie, his stomach rumbling at the mere sight of it

"you did this...for me? Didn't I scare you?"

You hummed, sitting close to him

"yeah a little but everyone has their bad days, you having one doesn't change anything - though you do need to apologize to mammon."

He sat down by his bed, placing the tray on his lap

"you're right I do, thank you for not just seeing me as some angry creature....I didn't intend to blow up like that."

You patted his arm, still smiling

You two sat together, you read his book for him whilst he ate and drank

He was very bashful at how supportive you are but that was you, you've always been so quick to offer help or do things for people ever since you've arrived

You were good to him, he'll always appreciate that

Asmodeus:

His love language is affection and words

Yours is acts of service

It's perfect!

Though, when it was established you were quick to help and offer your service - prepare for MANY innuendos

He'll come skipping to you, draping himself off the nearest object and asking if you want to help him de-stress

Most of the time you just have spa days or lay around doing nothing

You decided to treat him today seeing as exams were stressing him out

"Asmo! Won't you help me? I have this lovely new-"

He's skidding as he appears in the doorway, ready to do whatever you want

But you just grinned, knowing your plan worked

You grabbed him and shoved him into a chair

Before he knew it; his hair was tied up and his jacket and scarf has disappeared

"oh? What's all this about? Does my love want some special care?"

"nope, I just want to look after you today~ you've been stressing over exams so much, I wanted to treat you like a prince."

He had the biggest grin on his face after that

And treated like a prince he was

You did his skin routine, brushed his hair and curled it

If he even mentioned being thirsty you were straight to getting him a nice refreshing drink

If you're able to - please carry him bridal style - he will love every second of it

"you treat me so well, I know I'm already a blessing to this demonic world but you're just pure light."

He's so love sick, an absolute fool in love

"nonsense, I'm just helping you like usual."

Which is true, you were always being helpful to him

Thats why he loved doing whatever he could for you

"Never leave the Devildom, I couldn't bare not seeing your beautiful face everyday."

You just laughed, massaging his face and gave him a quick kiss

Beezlebub:

Another person who does acts of service as a love language

Though, do forgive him if he forgets due to hunger - he'll immediately make it up to you

At this point he's become a subconscious challenge/game of service - always trying to one up each other

Currently, he was really anxious about his up coming game

It was the biggest one that R.A.D was having and was against a smaller school in the Devildom

The brothers all agreed to come watch him play and even made banners and levi brought glowsticks

You were no were to be seen

The weeks running up to the game you were always busy and whilst you still do some things for him here or there - you were mostly out of the house

But it was but a long lasting plan

You planned on supporting him the best way you could!

When he finally rolled onto the field he felt dread when he didn't spot you in the crowd

He couldn't stop frowning until he saw you, shaking pom poms and running with the cheersquad

That's right, you joined the cheer team to show your support for the lovely demon

"I WANT TO DEDICATE A CHEER TO OUR STAR PLAYER - BEEZLEBUB!!!"

He's so flustered and absolutely shining with joy under his helmet

As soon as he could he came running towards you and hugged you tight

"I was so worried I did something that made you drift away....you did this for me?"

"of course! I'm sorry I made you worried, I wanted to surprise you."

He had to take off his helmet after trying to nuzzle your face, you yelped when it bonked you

"This is the best thing anyone has done for me, thank you (Y/N)."

"you're welcome, now go win that game! Prove those losers that R.A.D is the best school around!"

It was no surprised that R.A.D won

The players all cheered and partied, inviting the band and cheerleaders to celebrate with them

But you decided to have a sleepover with Beelzebub, feeding him plenty of tasty foods as your own type of celebration

"Open wide."

You almost choked on the cake basically shoved in your mouth, laughing as frosting covered your nose and cheeks

You got your revenge but he happily licked what he could

This is the best celebration he could ever get

All because of you!

Belphegor:

Even if your love language wasn't acts or service, you definitely got in the habit of doing it with this guy

He was spoilt from always being carried and pampered by his twin

He could get away with sleeping anywhere as long as he got things done and good grades

But you were always the helpful human, giving him snacks or fluffing his pillows

He's joked about getting a bell so he could call you whenever he needed you

That never happened

"Belphie!! You awake? I got something for you."

He immediately popped his head up and waved to get your attention

You showed him the cup of hot mocha you've recently made; sweet and delicious and has an extra kick to help with keeping awake

"Smells delicious, you made this?"

"yep! Now drink up, we got plans today."

He happily drunk it, feeling more awake with every gulp

By the end of the Cup he was absolutely overjoyed from the taste

Though you almost groaned in frustration when he yawned, so happy that he got sleepy

"you have anymore~? I could drink loads of these- make me more, you know how to make them, I'm too sleepy - it's your fault I'm sleepy."

You flicked his head

Reminding him to not act like a brat

But you did make him more and throughout the day you'd give him a large cup

You needed to do studies and make sure belphegor kept his grades up - Lucifer's orders

But he was already a star pupil regardless so you weren't sure why you had to

But spending time with your favourite demon was never an issue, regardless of his attitude

"We need to do this more, I love it when you look after me."

"I know, now write your answer, I need proof you're working so I don't get strung up."

#obey me #obey me shall we date #gamingclubpresident #aracadejohn217 9 #obey me mammon #obey me mc #obey me asmodeus #obey me satan #obey me belphegor #beelzebub obey me #obey me leviathan #obey me luficer #obey me imagine #obey me headcanon #obey me x you #obey me x mc #obey me x reader

[quack42069]

You flinch at their touch (Misfits)

Before you read, this is a trigger warning! Do not read if you are sensitive about abuse. If you are in a abusive relationship please speak to someone you trust, they do not love you as much as they say they do. In this imagine it’s you both started dating and you were in a abusive relationship and they find out because you flinched at their touch. If you are in need of help call or text this number 1−800−799−SAFE(7233) it’s the hotline for domestic violence between family, relationships etc. I was iffy on posting this but I will take it down later probably. Please get help if you are in a absuive household/relationship.

Misfits

Fitz/Cameron: “Fuck y/n, Why are you being so distant?” Cameron asked, his voice rising a bit. He was frustrated to say the least. Then he saw the look in your eye, this was your first fight with him and he didn’t wanna scare you. Never. He walked over to you and raised his hand to grab yours, that’s when you fliched. Your arms went to cover your face and you prepared yourself for the impact. It never came. He felt his heart break right there. You lowered your hands looking up at him to see him with a hurt expression. He pulled you into a hug, tighter then any he’s ever given you and he rubbed your head.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you, I don’t know the whole story but please don’t be scared. I’ll never hurt you. I’m so fucking sorry y/n.” You nodded into his chest. You knew he wouldn’t hurt you in the way your ex did but your body reacted before you could fully process everything.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asked softly. You shook your head and he nodded, kissing your forehead.

Swaggersouls/Eric : You smiled at Eric as he placed the drinks down, you guys had settled on maccas and with that being said you guys began to eat. You didn’t realize how close your drink was to your arm so when you moved a bit it spilt all over the floor. You immediately began apologizing, and he took notice. You didn’t mean to and he knew that so why were you apologizing so much? You had gotten up so quickly and began cleaning before he could even say anything, you were still freaking out and apologizing like crazy.

“Y/n. It’s okay really, you don’t need to freak out.” He said standing up going to where you were bent over cleaning the mess on the floor. He reached to grab your hand and you immediately threw yourself away from him curling yourself into a ball and trying to protect yourself as best as you could. He felt tears cloud his vision. Did you think he was going to hit you? His heart was heavy as he walked slowly towards you. You had moved your hands away from you as you finally realized that he wasn’t your ex, he was Eric. You looked down shamefully, you hurt him. He didn’t know about your past, all he knew was your ex was an ass, so obviously he thought you were scared of him. You looked up at him. His thoughts were running like crazy. You were the first person he was ever soft for, he loved you he knew that , what had he done? He never raged infront of you? What the hell did he do?

“Are you scared of me?” He asked and you shook your head.

“No Eric, I’m not scared of you it’s just, my ex they-” He sat next to you and gently placed his hand on yours. His eyes were teary, he was angry and sad. Sad that you had to go through that, angry at the person who hurt you.

“I’m so sorry Y/n.” You nodded and grabbed his hand, with time you’ll get rid of the flinching and excessive apologizing and everything else your ex made you get use to. Eric was more than happy to help and be extra gentle.

Zuckles/Mason: You guys were at the Misfits house, this was the first time you and Mason hung out with the boys and Toby together. They were all so nice and welcoming, you and Toby hit it off especially! They were filming a video and Mason decided this was a good time to announce you guys as a couple. Once filming was done Mason being the goof he was came to hug you, usually he was pretty mellow with you so you were seeing a bit of a new side of him. You hadn’t told him about your old relationship all that they had hurt you badly, with that being said he didn’t know your triggers, one of them is someone coming at you rather quickly. You flinched as he ran towards you. He stopped immediately and everyone’s eyes went wide. They knew Mason and knew he wouldn’t hurt a fly, but at the same time they didn’t know what was going on when it was just you two. You quickly realized where you were and put your arms down. You looked up at him and saw tears roll down his face. He didn’t care who saw. Did his baby really think he was going to hurt them? He could never. “Mace, no please, I’m sorry.” You said softly placing your hands on his cheeks.

“Did you really think I was going to hurt you?” He asked looking into your eyes. You shook your head.

“No Mason, I know you would never it’s my ex they- ” A loud sob was heard and he pulled you into his chest. Thank god you weren’t scared of him but like hell he was going to find whoever the fuck hurt you and give them a peace of his mind. The room was silent. The boys assured you you were officially a part of the family, seeing how Mason reacted and you and Toby planned on going out for coffee for girl talk in a couple of days. With that being said when you guys went home and you both talked about your past relationships and you both took into consideration triggers you guys had. The night was full of snuggles and light kisses.

INoToRiOuS/Matt : Matt smiled at you as he saw you lost in thought. He reached to brush your hair out of your face. You covered you face quickly, a reflex you got from your last relationship. His smile turned into a confused face then a frown. “What? Did I? I’m sorry.” He said quickly reaching for your hands to rub his thumb over your knuckles.

“No need to be sorry Matt, it’s just my ex. They um- ” He nodded, he understood what you were saying.

“I’m so fucking sorry you went through that.” You smiled at him softly.

“I’m safe now though, with you.” He nodded and kissed your forehead.

“Yes you are, you always will be.”

Tobyonthetele: She reached over to grab the remote, today was unfortunately a day where your anxiety was high. You backed away and she looked at you confused. “Sorry.” She looked at you with sad eyes. She knew a little bit about your ex.

“I’m not gonna hurt you Y/n. I promise.” You nodded and held her hand.

“I know.” She wrapped her arm around you and you snuggled into her, warmth filled you both.

McCreamy/Jay: You told him from the very beginning that your ex was abusive. So, he was always gentle with you and cautious. He just got a bit excited and so when he came out you and you flinched his heart broke. Immediately he stepped back, asking if he could hug you and when you nodded he pulled you in. He brought you to the couch and you apologized, he let you know it wasn't your fault and held you. You two were going to be okay and he took a mental note to make sure that he would be a bit calmer around you.

No taglist for this one! Just in case anyone has a trigger!

#misfits podcast #misfits #gbg fitz #goodguyfitz #goodguyfitz x reader #gbg swagger #swaggersouls #swaggersouls x reader #gbg zuckles #zuckles x reader #zuckles #inotorious #toby on the tele #gbg toby #gay baby gang #mccreamy x reader #mccreamy

[princecameronlovedacommoner]

Rafebarry Ficlet: The Shattered too Can Be Healed

( Fluff. Just Lots of Fluff & Rafe Snuggles)

Summary: Barry takes care of Rafe after he comes to him straight from having a fight with his old man.

A quarter till midnight and the bastard comes through the front door like the place is his very own, not one knock, no “What’s up, man” from the other side of the screen while he waited for Barry to let him inside. Not even a simple “Hey, mind if I stay around awhile?” before Rafe Cameron barges right into Barry’s trailer, lips bloody and swollen like he’d just got into it with somebody on the drive over.

Barry turned off the local news network on his little tv in the corner of the room. The weather forecast was done with anyway and he really didn’t give a shit about much else at the moment.

Aside from the clearly distressed Kook who had entered his domain and that was behaving in an even odder way than usual. For Rafe that was definitely saying a lot.

“Well, shit. Look at you, Country Club. Look like somebody done took off with that shiny new ride Daddy got you cruising’ in now. They pull your ass out of it first?” He motioned to Rafe’s split lip and expected him to snap at the jest. To snarl at least. Just a little.

But Rafe didn’t say a word. He dumped his things on Barry’s couch, facing away from him to hide the injury, of which he was obviously ashamed.

“Ain’t talkin’ tonight, huh?” Barry’s tone was less teasing and more…well…gentle was really the only word that could properly describe it.

“No.” Rafe muttered, and that was good. At least Barry was getting something out of him, even if it was mostly just sniffles and swallowed down sobs.

Barry sighed, leaning back in his recliner and crossing his arms behind his head, showing off a pair of bare and decently worked muscles. “Alright then, pretty thing.” He agreed to Rafe’s current terms of silence, mostly just to keep the tension boiling within the blonde headed rich boy from rising into a raging fit.

Barry knew Rafe well enough by now. He just needed to relax for a little while to calm down. “Go take a shower, why don’t ya?” He suggested. “Hot water’s back on.”

Rafe went, without another word, down the hall and locked the flimsy bathroom door behind him.

Alright. So this was going to be a rough night. He only ever trapped himself in there when he was feeling pretty worse for wear.

Whatever. Barry was still confident that he could talk him down enough to avoid an outburst. So he reluctantly got up from his cozy chair and went into the kitchen to make them both something to snack on.

The water in the shower quit after about a half hour and once Barry had thrown a couple of grilled cheeses together, Rafe was already sitting on the couch, wrapped up in his warm grey robe that he kept in Barry’s closet, his golden hair still wet from his shower and his arms crossed over his chest.

“Eat somethin’.” Barry insisted, handing him a plate and then setting down a chipped mug of sweet smelling tea upon the cluttered coffee table in front of Rafe. They didn’t need to talk about that and Rafe didn’t need any convincing to drink it. Whatever Barry used to make the stuff usually really helped him to calm down after a tough run in with the old man. The same was true now, his trembling muscles beginning to slow as he sipped at the hot drink.

“You gonna let me clean that lip up for ya?” Barry eventually dared to ask once he felt that Rafe had been gentled enough to not bite the hand that fed him.

Cameron didn’t reply right away but once he’d finished half of his sandwich and the mug was drained, he touched the tips of his own fingers gently to the angry cut that actually ran through both of his lips. “Not much you can do for it.” He muttered.

“Yeah, well, we’ll see about that.” Barry got up again from his chair and came closer, Rafe’s lack of action to repel him being a clear invitation to approach.

“Who did this shit, huh?” He asked softly as he sat down next to Rafe. Rafe, who didn’t cower from him but pulled his robe tighter against his body, as if Barry might try to take advantage of his currently wrecked emotional state. Even if he knew that he never would.

“Don’t,” He hissed. “Just don’t fucking ask, alright? Just-Just get me some Vaseline and some ibuprofen, alright? Stop asking questions…”

“Sure thing, Country Club. I got you.” Of course Barry knew already that Daddy Cameron was probably the assailant who did the damage but he wasn’t going to say that to Rafe. It’d only get him worked up and angry.

After searching through the medicine cabinet in the bathroom for awhile, Barry came back to patch his shaky little Kook up, going a step further than Rafe had told him to and first cleaning both slashes in the soft flesh with some cold antiseptic before the Vaseline went anywhere near them. Rafe downed a couple of Tylenol after and after a little while of resting on Barry’s couch, arms still crossed defensively over his chest, Rafe got up and went to the bedroom, leaving Barry to finish some dumb 80’s movie they’d started up together.

The bed was nice and soft against the tenseness of Rafe’s body and he slowly let himself sink into the mattress beneath the sheets. Sheets that smelt like them, only slightly less than the pillows Rafe swapped so he could breath in Barry’s scent without asking for the real deal.

The old rickety floors creaked when Barry came back to slide into bed as well, long calloused fingers shoving dark locks back over his head and out of his eyes. “You been theivin’ my pilla again, huh?” He couldn’t help but grin rather proudly when he saw that Rafe had his face buried in the pillow he’d claimed as his: the one that was stuffed into the Carolina Panthers case he’d found at the thrift shop. “Fork it over, baby boy. You can hang onto me instead.”

Rafe didn’t protest, switching the pillows back. He liked his own better anyway. It was firmer. Not as squishy as Barry’s that was going to give him a life long crick in the neck someday.

“Take the fucking thing if it matters so much…” He muttered under his breath at Barry, who willingly pretended that it was his idea alone to roll Rafe over and hold him close against his warm naked chest.

“Come here, pretty thang. That’s a good boy,” Barry dropped little bits of praise for Rafe to lap up like the love starved pup that he was. “Let me hold ya, baby. Been missin your cute ass around here all day, honey pie. You might as well come on in here and shack up with me full time, ya know? Don’t ever wanna let go of you in the mornins, baby. You just got those wicked little claws in my heart now, huh? My pretty thang. Know how fuckin’ perfect you look right now?”

Rafe relaxes deeply enough at Barry’s words that sometimes, including tonight apparently, he doesn’t really even notice that he’s crying against his lover’s skin.

Barry doesn’t mention it either. Just keeps praising him, rubbing on his back, and kissing at every bit of exposed skin he can find to smooch.

Rafe never feels calmer than when he’s here, wrapped in Barry’s arms, being taken care of and loved so thoroughly.

If heaven truly was a real place, he thought to himself before drifting off to sleep, this must be what it feels like to be there.

There’s never been another place on earth that Rafe could flee to, where the dark thoughts in his head wouldn’t follow. Just here. Just here with Barry in these moments where peace of mind wasn’t just a myth.

#outer banks #obx fanfiction #rafebarry #rafe x barry #rafe cameron #rafe obx #barry outer banks #barry obx #I know he’s kinda scary sometimes #but I just wanna wrap Rafe up in a blanket and give him hugs #good thing we have Barry for that

[myckicade]

Prompt: OMG. Love the Taza imagine! If you're OK with that, would you be OK with a Bishop one? I'd love to see him jealous!

A/N: Uhm. Yeah. So. This is now a thing. This one is a little different, in more ways than one. (I have a feeling I’ll be doing a second part). I should warn about some ugly language in this one, just in case. I want to wish you a happy read, and to apologize, at the same time.

Title: Bottom of the Bottle

Teaser: Your world has gone on, as normal. You just haven’t included Bishop in it.

Two days.

It’s been two days, Bishop reminds himself. Two days since he’s heard from you. Two days since you left his bed, his home, his life. It’s dramatic as hell, and he knows so, but the bottom of his bottle is whispering ugly thoughts in his face.

(Y/n)’s cheating.

(Y/n)’s dead.

No, (y/n)’s definitely fucking another man.

Groaning, Bishop pulls the bottle away from his mouth, and scrubs his free hand over his face. “This is insane,” he growls, snatching his phone from his nightstand.

Two. Fucking. Days.

Opening up his recent calls, Bishop stares at the screen. He’s made fifteen calls, in the last forty-eight hours. Two to Taza. One to Marcus. The other twelve all have your name on them. All twelve, no answers. All twelve, unreturned voicemails. He scowls. He’s sent more text messages than that, even. Those haven’t been returned, yet, either.

Fuck, he has it so fucking bad.

You’re fine, he knows that much. He’s been by your apartment, more than once. The cat is fed, and content. Litter box has been changed. There are clothes all over your bedroom floor, coffee mugs on the kitchen counter. Mail hasn’t piled up. Your world has gone on, as normal.

You just haven’t included Bishop in it.

He doesn’t understand it. What went wrong? He can’t remember being that big a dick to you, before you left. He’d teased you about the smudge of mascara under your eyes, from the night before, but that was it. You’d given him a kiss, and one of your brightest smiles. There was no indication, not that Bishop can see, that you wouldn’t be coming back.

See you soon. That’s what you’d told him. See you soon.

Forgive him. He doesn’t consider fifty-four hours, and some change, to be soon.

Heaving a sigh, Bishop abandons his stare-off with his call records in favour of a swig of vodka. He can’t call, again, he just can’t. It’s getting pathetic. He’s getting pathetic. He can’t remember the last time he was like this, even before his divorce. Lovers come, and lovers go, in his life. That’s just a part of the life. But, you… God, you’re something else, entirely. You don’t intermingle with the Club, very often, but there’s no tension (that he’s aware of) over how he earns a living. It’s refreshing, he has to admit, both halves of his being playing so nicely, together. (It’s so damn close to harmony, he won’t look at it, too closely, for fear of disappointment). He can work the whole day away, and come home pissed off, and worn out, and ruin every damned plan you have for the night… And, somehow, you adapt. You. You. Bishop swears, there’s nothing you won’t alter. A nicely-set table becomes plates in front of the television. A night out drinking becomes shots at home, cards and conversation filling the spaces between. And, on those rare nights he’s too tired to pleasure you? He hasn’t heard a peep about it, by way of complaint. You just accept that he’s going to shower, and hit the hay, and that’s the end of it. Sometimes, Bishop feels like he takes advantage of your good nature.

Oh, good nature, hell, you’re a fucking Saint.

He really should have seen this coming, this all blowing up in his face.

Is that it, though? Has he really driven you away, by not paying attention to your needs? He hasn’t seen the signs. You’re such a damned sweetheart, there probably haven’t been any signs to miss, at all. You’ve just smiled, and smooched, and carried on as normal, until it got to be too much.

That’s it. He’s forced you away, and that’s why you’re ignoring him, and fucking another man.

A low roar forces its way from Bishop’s throat, and, a second later, glass is shattering against the bedroom wall. Shards are sticking up out of the carpet, vodka streaking down the wallpaper. Fuck, he hates that wallpaper. He can’t remember why he put it up, to begin with. He’s been asking you to pick a colour to paint over it with, any colour that isn’t white, and you’ve been finding it in yourself, each and every time, to remind him why he shouldn’t paint over wallpaper. Sometimes, he brings it up, just to make you laugh. Just to hear the explanation, on repeat. Now, he’s never going to hear it, again.

Fuck, he needs a fucking cigarette.

And, of fucking course, the pack is empty. Crumpling the paper in his hand, Bishop tosses it to the carpet, beside the growing vodka patch. He’s in no condition to be driving, a rarity, these days. (He won’t admit it, under pain of death, but he’s been drinking considerably less with you around, too). Probably why he’s two steps from sloshed, now. He should just stay home, yes, he should. There’s no need for cigarettes, not at this hour. He should keep himself calm, and go to bed. Wait for your call.

Standing to his feet, Bishop grabs his keys, and his wallet, and heads for the door. Without you around, what is he saving himself for?

*

Well… Okay, so, that’s decidedly not the convenience store.

Bishop stares at the apartment building – your apartment building – in something akin to wonder. He has no recollection of how he ended up here, parked in front of the entrance. It’s been twenty minutes, easily, that he’s been staring up at your living room window. The lamp beside the couch is on, the soft glow almost inviting to his impaired senses.

He really should go knock on the door.

He really should have stayed home, too.

So, you’re definitely home. Looking around at the parking lot, he doesn’t see your car. But, you never leave lights on, not on purpose. Whether you’re paranoid about fires, or worried about an expensive light bill, Bishop can only guess. Right now, he’s thankful. It gives him something to focus on, something to calm him… Something to entice him closer to your front door. Step by step, he tries to talk himself out of it. But, he can’t stand this, living this way, not knowing where you are, or what you’re doing, or who you’re doing, if it’s not him. It’s distracting, and he truly can’t afford to be distracted, not even by you, not like this. He has to go up, he just has to. He has to know, to figure this shit out, face-to-face.

Knock, knock, knock. Bishop finds himself comforted by the solid connection of your door against his knuckles. He could use his key, but it doesn’t feel right, not now. He could scare you, or piss you off, neither of which is on his list of desires. You’re a civil person, peaceful to a fault, so he might get away with it, sure, but… But…

This has to go right. He has to do this right. Whatever he did, or hasn’t done, Bishop’s confident he can fix it. You two have a good thing going. Sure, he’s got a few years on you, and there are gaps in understanding one another, every now and again. And, yeah, you’ve had a spat or two, in the last few months of your relationship. He’s always seen that as a sign of things getting comfortable, though, not a warning of bigger problems. Your arguments aren’t dire, anyway.

Who the fuck is ‘Nicki Minaj’, and why is she on my speaker system?

Why is your toilet paper on the roll, the wrong way?

How the hell can you be a Mets fan?

No, I’m serious. Who the fuck is ‘Nicki Minaj’?

That’s not enough for you to be screwing around on him, right?

As your door opens, and Bishop gets a good look at what’s been going on… Well, apparently, it’s enough.

“Who the fuck are you?” Bishop spits out, before the man at the door can even get out a greeting. Not exactly his nicest choice of words, but all Bishop can see is young, and tall, and handsome. If this motherfucker is a day over thirty, he’ll go vegan for a fucking year. Well-dressed, smells decent (he’s close enough to tell, okay?), without a frown line, or a speck of grey on him.

He’s not insecure. He’s not fucking insecure.

Handsome smiles, albeit a bit forced. “Oh, ah, hi! Are you looking for (y/n)?” He’s so polite, it stings. This kid – kid – is the poster child for Ivy League education, for all the right things in life. So clean-cut, his creases have creases. Meanwhile, here Bishop stands, in yesterday’s jeans, boots, kutte, and a wrinkled shirt he can’t swear is fresh.

He can’t stand this, either. As a result, in the blink of an eye, he has Handsome backed against a wall, hands fisted in his now-not-so-perfect shirt.

“Hey!” Handsome shouts, trying – and, failing – to shove Bishop off of him. Bishop can’t really fathom how, must be from sheer force of rage, probably fueled by his liquid indulgences. He can’t help it. His heart is in his throat, rhythm a little sketchy, at the thought that this is what you’ve chosen, over him? This? Some kid with a million-watt smile, and fucking Dockers? What fucking year is it, anyway?!

The idea forces an extra shove into the wall. Bishop hopes something cracks.

“What the fuck are you doing, here?” He hasn’t raised his voice, not a bit. If anything, it’s probably dropped an octave, settling into a low, dangerous growl. He’s two steps away from redecorating that perfect little face, just for the sheer joy of it, make it something you definitely won’t like, anymore.

That’s when he hears it.

“Obispo!”

It’s you. Even through the deluge of seething rage threatening to consume him, Bishop knows your voice. He looks over his shoulder, finding you standing in the still-open doorway. There’s a duffel bag slung over your shoulder, a bag of groceries in your other arm. You look surprised, but who wouldn’t be surprised to be caught, red-handed?

“What are you doing?” you ask, setting your bags down.

“I could ask you the same thing!” Bishop finally shouts, hands still twisted in your little boyfriend’s shirt. “Where the fuck have you been?”

Your confusion seems to be growing. “What the hell are you talking about?”

He sneers. “You know what I’m talking about. I’ve been trying to get hold of you for two days!” Bishop points back to your unwanted visitor, ignoring the way his hand shakes. “You ignore me, to whore around with this prick?!”

“The fuck did you just say?” Bishop nearly has a coronary, as a second guy steps into the doorway, behind you. Where the hell did he come from? This one… He’s just as tall, but he definitely doesn’t miss a day at the gym. If Bishop tries to put this one against the wall, he’ll find himself pile-driven into the floor. His arms may be full of groceries, but the look on his face is threatening bodily harm, and worse.

Doesn’t stop Bishop’s mouth from running, though.

“Oh, wow,” he chokes out, forcing a laugh from somewhere that feels wrong, cut-up and bloodied and wrecked. He shifts his eyes from Muscles, to you. “You running a whole thing outta’ here? Taking ‘em, two at a time?”

Muscles puts his bags down, advancing on Bishop, who lets go of Handsome, and takes a step back. Muscles puts himself between Bishop, and everyone else. Defensive. Protective. And, does that ever fucking hurt. If this guy is so ready to go to bat for you, he’s known you a lot longer than two days.

How did he fucking miss this?

Again, Bishop’s eyes find yours, and the sight of your beautiful face completely destroys the bravado. He feels his shoulders droop, chest deflating, defeat slowly creeping in. He’s still angry, he’s still hurt, but the devastation, the thing he’s worked so hard to avoid having to feel, in his life, ever again, is beginning to win.

“How?” he asks, arms spreading out to either side of him. “How could you do this, (y/n)?” He shakes his head, slowly. It’s been so good, everything has been so damned good. He’s trusted you, all this time. How could he be so stupid? “No, you know what? I should’ve known.” His words are blending with his thoughts, a little mismatched, but he doesn’t much care. A finger is suddenly pointing your way. “You’re full of shit, just like every other cunt out there.”

Instantly, he knows he shouldn’t have said it. He can’t take it back, no matter how hard he prays on it. Your expression is one he’ll remember for the rest of his days, coming back to haunt him in his darkest moments. Hurt, betrayed… Heartbroken… Oh, but, your words. The quiet murmur that follows that look, voice teetering on the edge of tears, will put the final nail in his coffin.

“This… This is my cousin, Alexander…” You gesture to Muscles. “And, his husband, Curtis.” A nod to Handsome.

Those… Those names sound awfully familiar. A recent conversation, if memory serves. And, shit, as he thinks about it, you did mention them, didn’t you? Which means that, all this… The last two days, no calls, no texts… It means that you were-

Is it really possible for blood to ice over?

“We just got in from that music festival…”

Music festival. The one Bishop hadn’t wanted to go to. The one you’d had your heart set on. Who the hell went into the desert to listen to music? How the fuck did instruments even work, in that much heat? He remembers asking those questions, remembers telling you to go with whoever you wanted, but to leave him out of it. You… You’d laughed, thanked him for his permission. He’d found your snark so damned cute.

Now… God, now, there’s nothing he won’t do to get that wet shimmer out of your eyes.

He just can’t get a single word to come out of his fucking mouth.

Silence stretches on, uncomfortable, no one knowing what to say, what to do, and with good reason. As the tension reaches its peak, you clear your throat, gently. “Sit down, Obispo…” You instruct, quietly, before he can even try to offer anything. You’re already heading for the kitchen, not looking at anyone, any longer. “I’ll make everyone some coffee.” You want him sober up, and he knows it. Won’t let him drive back, so obviously drunk, even after what’s just transpired. A Saint, to the fucking end.

Fuck, what has he fucking done?

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