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#I totally meant to post this earlier oops
wayward-rosalind · 4 months
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Unshakable.
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tomatoland · 7 months
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The TopMew scene that was cut was redundant. We already know top is remorseful and Mew is angry. So I’m not surprised it was cut. He should have kept in the other Top scene though where he turned down the hook up. That would have been more impactful for the character.
Oops, I totally did not see this until now. I doubt you are still around, anon, but I’m going to answer this because I finally organized my thoughts.
I wasn't referring to just the break room scene in that post. It's a cascading effect. There is Mew's softened dialogue in EP 6 confrontation, the two previous cut TopMew scenes, and the break room scene. The fact that Jojo said he wish he kept those earlier two TopMew scenes should not be the case. He should not be regretting anything. Everything he wants to show us, should all be on the table. It is HIS art vision. And if they were not editing the episode the same week as it aired, he would have been able to realize that he wanted to put those scenes back in and done so.
That's what I meant by pacing and confirming the storyline is progressing the way he wants. But what is happening is one cut in one episode is leading to another cut in a future episode because there is no basis for the action anymore. As a result, we are losing overall continuity. And who knows what else they'll have to cut because of the editing choices they've already made. Which is why I am worried, they won't have the scenes left to make this a satisfying TopMew reunion at the rate they are going.
I wish we didn't have the interview where Jojo said that because it's making me not trust him with TopMew anymore. If he realized earlier that those scenes didn't fit, they should have done re-shoots but instead we just have cascading cuts.
Removing all these scenes is removing depth from TopMew. It is making them into surface characters. And none of this deleted footage is canon so there is that too.
Yes, definitely, the scene were Top is trying to move on is incredibly important to learning about Top and how he feels about Mew. And they should have kept that regardless of what random people in the fandom think.
But even the deleted scene of Mew's revenge fantasy of wanting to physically hurt Top from episode 7 is important because it provides a basis for his violent thoughts and words in the break room scene. I wish they had shown it at least the TopMew portion as a flash like an intrusive thought while he was in the tub. Everyone has intrusive thoughts, right? No one could fault Mew for that.
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So by not showing us that Mew has had violent thoughts, now Mew's anger in the break room scene seems to come out of nowhere so it no longer fit.
I don't agree about the break room scene being redundant. The opposite of love is not hate, it's indifference.
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So instead of knowing that Mew is still incredibly angry and therefore his actions are irrational, what we got was Mew saying "okay" to trying it again with Top here by the pool and then at the end of the episode, inviting Boeing to go wakeboarding with them and saying shit like this to him.
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Oops. I meant to cut the collage below in half, but I’ve already hit 10 images, so read left column and right column separately.
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Now, Mew just seems wishy-washy. I would rather have seen the depth of Mew's pain and rage then absolutely nothing at all, his indeterminable poker face however sweet it looks.
Mew being wishy-washy/indifferent or just deciding to get back at Top on any given random day means their relationship doesn't have a viable path forward right now. Because if they cannot communicate honestly and vulnerably about what happened with Boston, their relationship cannot ever heal and get healthy. They'll just always be stepping around the cracks. This is the albatross I was referring to in this post.
Mew has never broken down and cried. We've gotten the lone tear, here or there. And we know from this BTS that they have footage of Book crying his heart out. As the viewer, we haven't seen it because Jojo is not painting us a picture.
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But removing the break room scene also removed depth from Top too and TopMew's relationship in general.
It shows us that Top is really sorry and willing to show with actions not just with his words that he wants Mew to move forward, so THEY can move forward. Him being unsure of how to handle a wrathful Mew, but still wanting to try. Him saying he already talked to Boeing, since Mew is deeply insecure about him. Him holding Mew's hand and trying to break down this fortress Mew has built around his heart piece by piece.
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The song I posted of what I thought the scene could be saying if it had stayed in. Top's POV: "Love, I don't know how this shit works, but I know we could work things out if we just work together." And that's the key phrase "work together."
And this appeasement photo and answering a fan's tweet that we're going to see happy Mew soon. Jojo thinks we're so dumb.
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All I want to do is scream back, "But are they ever going to TALK?!" TopMew cannot just solve this with sex. We need soul vulnerability. And I'm bloody annoyed because prior to episode 10 that is literally all they needed, but instead TopMew went backwards.
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judyfromfinance · 10 months
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Dead to Me.
(Obey Me/Reader)
Summary: ‘The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb’, it was one of your favorite quotes. It meant that found family can often mean more to you than the family you were born with. The ones you share blood with. And often times it would get shortened down and paraphrased into meaning the exact opposite of what was initially intended.
But after coming back home from your year long stay in the Devildom, your house and family in shambles, it is no longer your favorite quote. The water of the womb that you shared with your sister meant more to you than any blood spilled between you and those 7 demons in hell.
Warnings: Violence. Death. Fighting and Shouting. Thoughts of suicide.
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I totally forgot to post this to Tumblr. Oops. Just know this story would not exist without the talented earthliving on AO3 or @another-lost-mc here on Tumblr. My inspiration came from their headcanons Taken. (Hope you don’t mind me tagging you again girly. I totally thought I posted this here rip.)
Your stay in the Devildom was far from easy. Not just because demons threatened to kill you, eat you, or worse. Yes, there was a worse apparently. But because you had to leave behind everything you knew and loved. How the Prince of Hell even had a file on you to begin with was a mystery to you. You for sure don’t remember signing up for any exchange program. Supernatural or otherwise. But they did. And you were chosen. Just like that. Not because you were special or anything, no Lucifer made sure to drill it into your skull that you were chosen by happenstance. And nothing more.
In the beginning everything was rough. And it didn’t help that your ‘dorm mates’ were complete assholes. Stealing from you. At least what little you had to your name. Be it snacks or trinkets. And others ridiculed you. On your fashion sense or lack there of. And, peculiarly enough, on your lack of knowledge on Devildom gaming and anime. You thought for a second that Leviathan could be a friend to you considering your similar interests. You and your own sister grew up around video games and anime. You thought he’d be easier to befriend. But no. He couldn’t care less about you. You remember almost shouting at him after a particularly harsh verbal lashing. You wanted to remind him that anime (and you’re pretty sure video games too) were a human invention and he should get off his high horse and stop gatekeeping like a total incel. But no. You didn’t. Because even though you were upset, you still feared for your life here.
But slowly, things that seemed unnatural almost became… normal. Like some of the food. Although you couldn’t stomach some of it, others weren’t too far off from some human ingredients you were used to. Although no matter who cooked dinner or whatever take out was bought, it could never satisfy your hunger for a home cooked meal. And by home cooked you mean from your home. You didn’t cook often. You were kinda shit at it. But your sister? She liked cooking. And she would sometimes make you foods based off of tiktoks she saw earlier in the day. They may not have come out perfect, but they were great. And you would tell her time and time again how amazing her food was.
Being surrounded by a group of brothers would often bring up thoughts and memories of your sister. Though you tried not to linger too long, otherwise you might cry. And god forbid any of these demons caught you crying in the middle of the hallway. You wouldn’t be able to deal with that embarrassment and ridicule. No, instead you tried your damnded hardest to get used to living here. You’d be here for a year. A whole ass year. Not long for immortal demons sure but it was a lot for little human you. A year away from your little sister. Away from your loved ones and everything you knew. But thankfully, things got better. A lot better.
The brothers started to warm up to you. Starting with Mammon and Beelzebub. I guess it was inevitable with Mammon considering you had made a pact with him on your second day here. He was assigned as your protector. Or as he put it, your babysitter. And you would often tell him he did a shit job at it at first. But eventually after a few too many get rich quick schemes he started to learn more about you. Your dreams. Your fears. He tried to play it off like he didn’t care but it was hard to not care for somebody you eventually spent every waking moment with. He learned to love you. Just like Beel did after he formed a pact with you as well. After you protected him from Lucifer. You both shared stories about your siblings. Yea, Beel was the only one that knew you had a little sister. And he wiped your tears away as you cried about how much you missed her.
And after that each and every brother started to fall like dominoes. You remember the second to last brother to fall. Belphegor. You remember freeing him from the confines of his makeshift prison in the attic. He had tried to kill you. You can still feel the slight scratching of his claws as they grazed against your throat. No wait. He did kill you. You were pulled away by a strong magnetic force as you look at your own corpse on the ground. Bile rose up your throat. You remember your back colliding into a wall and when you looked up, all you saw was dazzling amber. Lord Diavolo and is ever loyal butler Barbatos were quick to arrive on the scene. They had explained who you were. And that maybe you were picked for a reason. The universe wanted you here evidently. Considering you shared blood with their long since dead sister. That day they all found out that Lilith survived and was turned into a human. To spend the rest of her days on earth happily. And you were her descendant. You remember looking around the room at the brothers. Some tearing up and others just looked at you in either awe or confusion. Except for one pair.
Belphegor had a hard time adjusting to this newfound knowledge. His hatred for humans ran deep and it was hard to override something that spanned eons. Even if his beloved sister had become human, it still didn’t mean they weren’t at fault for what happened. And he tried to hate you. He really did. But you wormed your way into his heart. Slowly but surely. Just like you did with the rest of his family. He learned to love you and all of your weird little human habits. He came to remember why he fell in love with the human realm all the way back in his Celestial years. Every time he looked into your eyes he remembered. And he hopes this time he doesn’t forget. Not just for you. But to honor his sister. He wishes he could burn the color of your eyes into his brain so he could see them every time he blinks. He told you that once. You just called him a weirdo and walked away.
You carved out a spot for you in this dysfunctional family. And you learned to love them. Though you had to set boundaries for each of them, lest they walk all over you. You were still human, you had to stick up for yourself ya know? But just because you learned to love these demons as much as they loved you, they can never fill the hole in your heart. And you started to get antsy. You weren’t allowed to contact anyone back home. To protect the Devildom and all that. But you swore up and down to who ever would listen that you wouldn’t jeopardize them like that. You loved them too much to do that. But you also loved your family back at home. And you wanted to just make sure they were ok. And although Lord Diavolo seemed to understand where you were coming from, all your requests were still denied.
Lucifer could tell you were trying to figure out ways to circumvent your denials. So he made sure to tell the other exchange student, mostly Simeon and Solomon, that they were not to help you contact anyone in the human realm. Simeon understood, considering he wouldn’t want to jeopardize his home, the Celestial Realm, either. Solomon just laughed it off but agreed once he saw Lucifer’s glare. He didn’t believe that you would come talk to him or better yet, ask him for a favor. He knew the brothers filled your head with rumors about him. Conniving, sly, shady and untrustworthy little wizard man. He still laughed every time he remembered the hushed whispers, that were a little too loud to still be considered whispers, that Mammon spewed to you about him. No, you wouldn’t come to him for help.
But color him surprised when you showed up at his bedroom door the very next day asking for help for the very thing that Lucifer warned him about. You pleaded your case very well in hindsight. He could see the hope in your eyes as you looked towards the only other human in Hell for help. Sadly for you, it’s been a long time since Solomon has felt such an intense love for a family member such as you do right now. He just didn’t understand your need to contact anyone. And he told you what everyone else did. It’s better for everyone if you just waited till the year ended to see them again. So you did.
You pushed your love for your sister to the back of your mind and tried to cover it up with the love you had for the brothers. You spoiled them rotten. Lucifer too when he would allow it. But he was often times the one to tell you to stop babying his brothers. Asmodeus would shout that you were a grown woman and if you wanted to baby him then Lucifer should let you! Everyone decided not to acknowledge the fact that he only mentioned you babying him and not any of the others. You learned how to cook with the best of them. Though you were still kinda scared of knifes. But you had to. To help feed Beel and his never ending appetite. You felt so bad for him that you always made sure to make extras for him every time you cooked. It must be Hell to feel like you’re starving all the time. You even bought him a mini fridge to keep in his room. Lucifer admonished you for that too.
No brother was left out of your loving and giving ways. Gaming with Levi was fun, though you did mention how much he hurt you at the beginning of your time here, he soon went on a spiel about how he was a yucky otaku and he didn’t deserve your friendship. You kind of wanted to let him know that this manipulation thing wasn’t cute but it was already 3 in the morning, you were too tired. So you just said you forgiven him and went to bed. Once in your room you noticed Satan on your bed, asleep with a book you had bought him from the human world open on his lap. You set the book aside and curled up next to him. He grumbled about pirates and treasure islands as drool dripped from his lips. No these brothers could never replace your lovely little sister. But they were becoming more of a family to you than some other members of your real family. You soon fell asleep and dreamed about memories long since passed.
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You were sitting on your bed as your sister sat beside you. You both watched your tv and laughed as your favorite streamer said something stupid again. She turned to you and spoke.
“You know, I love it when I infect you.”
“What? What does that mean?” You questioned.
“I just like to see you enjoy stuff that I like. I like showing you my special interests and you actually listen and enjoy them too. It makes me feel nice. Appreciated isn’t the right word.” She grumbled, trying to find words for her jumbled thoughts. “I don’t know. I just like that you’re here with me.”
You stare into your sisters eyes as your own begin to tear up. You were always the one to cry in your family. A big ol’ crybaby. But you couldn’t help it. Sometimes you just ‘felt things’ way too much.
“I understand what you’re saying. I like that you’re here with me too.” You pull your sister into a hug. “I’ll always be here for you. No matter what. You wanna talk about something you like for hours on end? Let’s do it, just let me get comfortable first.” She elbowed you. You kiss the top of her head. “If you ever need someone to talk to about your feelings, or if somebody is scaring you or bothering you or whatever, I’ll be here. I’ll always be here. You know you’re the person I care most about in the world right?” She lifts up her head and smiles.
“I know.”
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It’s been a year. A whole year away from your family and you’re getting ready to finally see them again. You can’t wait to see them… but it feels… wrong somehow. Like you’re leaving a part of you behind. The whole house was in dismay this last week. Everyone was quiet. The brothers were contemplating on how they were going to get on with life without you. Some of them believed they can go about their regular business just fine without you. But they knew. In the back of their minds they knew that you stepped into their lives and shook up their world. Altering it forever. They loved you. Fully. And when these 7 demons loved something, it was hard for them to unclasp their claws from that something. But with you, they couldn’t hide you away. Lock you in a room and throwaway the key. Though some contemplated it. No. They had to let you go.
And like you said, it wasn’t just hard on them. You loved them too. Through all the blood, sweat, and tears you survived and came out the other side with a whole new perspective on life and a new family. It was gonna be hard leaving them. So when the day finally came to go, you cried. You couldn’t bring all your Devildom trinkets with you, considering some of their origins. So you gifted them back to the brothers that would cherish them the most.
You gifted Asmo a peculiar hexed hair comb that a RAD student gave you. It was supposed to be cursed so the user would always have bad hair days if they used the brush. Luckily for you, that person flunked their Hexing 101 class, so it literally did the exact opposite. You told Asmo that his hair was beautiful and he’d never need it, but he should have it, just in case. He wept into your shoulder as he hugged you. Levi got a anime figurine that you bought yourself. It was from a random Demonic Anime that you’ve never watched but you bought it because it was cute and pink. He told you exactly where he would be putting it and how he’d dust it everyday. You just giggled as you moved on.
Satan got a spell book from you. It belonged to your spell casting teacher that took a particular liking to you. Satan didn’t have the heart to tell you that he already had that edition. But he still cherished it regardless. Beel and Belphie got scarves that you crocheted yourself. Apparently the yarn was magical and imbued with a special silk webbing that would take the makers feelings and use them to keep itself warm. So if you loved the person you gifted it too, it would exude heat. And boy, were they toasty every time they wore it. Luckily it was always decently cold in the Devildom.
Then came the next two, Mammon and Lucifer. You stopped in front of them both as you knew you were keeping everyone too long. You took out a necklace and a ring. Both bought for you from your own mother. You felt a little bad giving these gifts away. They did mean a lot to you. But so did the 2 demons standing in front of you. You handed the necklace with a simple sunflower charm to Mammon as you handed the accompanying sunflower engraved ring to Lucifer. You told them they didn’t have to wear them or anything. Especially since the ring won’t fit Lucifer’s fingers anyways. But still, you wanted to leave a little part of you with them. A small sliver of your soul. Solomon told you once that if a human wore something or had something on their person for long enough, that object could retain pieces of that person spirit. Their energy. And you wore those bits of jewelry your whole life. It felt right to give these two men something from the heart. Since they truly stole yours.
You walked back over to Diavolo and Barbatos as you stood side by side with Solomon. They asked if you were finally ready to go back home. You nodded as you turned towards the portal, you wiped away your tears and pushed your way through the fog. Leaving this place you called Home.
Mammon looked down into his hand. The simple silver chain and sunflower charm glinting in the moonlight. He could feel a tear slip down his cheek as he saw your aura encapsulate the pendant. A beautiful shimmering glow that only creatures such as him could see. He quickly closed his hand into a fist, already feeling his sin clawing at his heart. Wanting no one to see the beautiful piece of yourself that you left for him and only him. Well, him and Lucifer. Lucifer ushered his brothers back the House of Lamentation. As they all walked into the parlor, a silent yearning filled them all. Belphegor was the one to brake it.
“I miss them.” All the brothers could do was nod, as they all felt the same.
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No. No no no no. NO. This was not supposed to happen! What the fuck happened!? No no, you promised her. Now look what happened. YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BE THERE! WHY WEREN’T YOU THERE!?
You sobbed and begged and pleaded. You choked on your own vomit as you heaved into the trash can. The people around the police station looked towards you in pity as you screamed and wailed that this was all just a bad dream. They had to interview you, as were a potential suspect but they could tell you had no idea what happened. The pain in your voice, in your eyes, was real. Now the interrogation was more so a formality , for the paperwork than to get any real answers.
You couldn’t go home. There was no home to go to. It was infested with men and women in blue uniforms and wrapped up in yellow tape. Your house was a crime scene. Your sister was gone. You promised her. No. You lied to her.
You look towards your phone and see the millions of messages and calls that never went through to you since you been stuck in hell. The last one replayed in your head on loop. Your little sisters voice pleading for you to come home, she’s scared. There’s someone in the house. She called 911 but their not here yet. Why’d you leave me? What did I do? Oh god. Their in my room. I can see him. No no NO! HE’S… than nothing but blood curdling screaming and sobbing came after that. You hear a wet squelch before someone picked up the phone to end the call.
You heaved into the bucket as you cried. Your baby sister. Your everything. Is gone. She’s gone. And it’s your fault.
This is all your fault.
It’s ALL YOUR FAULT!
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It’s been months since any of the brothers have seen you and they’ve, for the most part, have gotten things back to normal. All of them miss you dreadfully but there’s nothing they can do. Despite how hard some of them try.
Belphie has tried multiple times, along with Satan, to open up a portal to the Human realm to visit you themselves. Lucifer thwarted each and every one of their attempts. Mammon tried bribing Witches and Warlocks alike to take him up top so he can see you all by himself. Of course, none of them helped him. And then there were the others that held onto their sadness but kept chugging on anyways. Like Asmo or Beel.
It was just a normal day in the House of Lamentation when Lucifer gets an urgent call from Lord Diavolo. Ordering him and his brothers to come down to the castle now. Lucifer rounds up his brothers and leave’s immediately.
“What’s the big rush? Why does he need us there right now?” Mammon shoves his hands into his pocket. Toying with his little piece of you.
“I don’t know but he sounded urgent. If there’s something wrong in the Devildom and Lord Diavolo needs our help with it, then we shall abide.” Lucifer storms off in front of everybody as he knocks upon the ginormous doors of the castle. Barbatos opens them and ushers everyone inside.
“Barbs~, what’s the problem? I don’t feel like getting my clothes dirty today.” Asmo groans as he glided next to Barbatos. He sighs. “It’s quite… difficult to explain. They’re back.” Levi rolls his eyes as he toys with his D.D.D.
“Who?”
“(Y/n).”
And with that, all the demons went sprinting towards the main dining area. As they got closer they heard shouting and screaming. They all feel their pact with you flare up. The burst through the doors as they see you being pinned down to the floor by some royal guards. All of them shifted into their demonic forms but only two of them went in for the kill. Mammon and Belphegor were held back as Lucifer and Beel struggled to keep them in place.
“What in the Hell happened here!?” Lucifer shouted. Satan looks around the room and sees destruction of plates and chairs. He looks towards Diavolo and notices a very slight reddening on his cheek. Had you… Had you hit him? How did you achieve that? He looked towards you and all he could see was a mess. Clothes dirty. Hair oily. Face splotchy and red. Your eyes were even redder. Puffy. Like you haven’t slept since leaving them all those months ago. But you didn’t look tired. You didn’t look sad despite the constant tears running down your face. He didn’t need to be the Avatar of Wrath to be able to tell that you were furious.
Lucifer has also came to the same conclusion as he eventually let go of Mammon and made his way to you. He kneels down by you as he ushers the guards away. The reluctantly let go and you slowly push yourself up. He tries to help you but you smack his hand as hard as you could. You sit on the floor as you try and catch your breath.
“(Y/n)… what has gotten into you? What has happened that would cause you to behave this way?” You wipe your face and look at your hand. Red blood smeared across the surface. Your nose was smashed pretty harshly on the ground when the guard tackled you. Lucifer just keeps calling your name. Spewing questions left and right. You don’t answer any of them. You don’t need to. No. No. They answer to you. You pull yourself with the broken chair beside you as you look towards Diavolo once again. There’s a sadness in his eyes that you refuse to acknowledge. You wobble your way closer to him but the guards stop you. You can hear A few of the brothers growl in the background but you pay them no mind.
“It’s your fault.” You whisper. Barely holding back a sob. “It’s… it’s all your fault!” You cry. Diavolo tries to ask you about this perceived slight that you have against him. But you cut him off. “Out of all the shit that I’ve been through…” spit flies past your teeth as you stutter out your words in barely veiled anger. “All the shit I’ve done for YOU!” You point towards him. “For THEM!” You wave your arms towards the 7 demonic entities behind you. “And all I ask for was a call. Not even! A fucking text! Anything. FUCKING ANYTHING!” You grab a broken shard of something off the table as you chucked it at the Prince with all your might. You barely grazed his arm. “And look what fucking happened!”
You fall to your knees as you sob and heave. “She’s gone. I promised her and because of you I couldn’t be there. SHE needed me and YOU took me away!” You bang your hand against your chest hard enough to give yourself a bruise as you moaned in despair. The air in the room seemed to vanish. The brothers were told about your sister from Beel. You had never mentioned her to them. But Beel took it upon himself to mention her. They grew excited at the prospect of meeting another one of Lillith’s descendants. You were the oldest? Sooo, were you more like Lucifer or more like Mammon? The thought of meeting this person that you clearly loved, at least from what Beelzebub had told them, instantly left their minds as they all connected the dots. Your little sister was dead. She had died while you were down here. Having fun with your new family.
Asmo gasped silently into his hand as everyone else took their turns as shock and horror ran through them. Beel and Belphie however, stood stock still. The complet and utter pain you were feeling. They new it all too well. All the brothers did. But the twins had dealt with a different type of pain. Considering they were once triplets. Belphie made the first move to try and comfort you. But you just shoved him away as you clumsy maid your way to Barbatos. You cling to him as if he was the only thing keeping you alive. Sane.
“Please. You can bring her back. You did it with me you can do it it again. Please bring her back. Please just please do it. Please I’m begging you please…” you sob into his chest. Tears soaking into his butler uniform. He pays your back and says. “I’m sorry (Y/n). But that’s just now how it works.” You fling yourself off of him.
“YES. YES IT DOES! It has too. You have to bring her back. You did it with me. Why not her!?” You slowly raise your hands, palm up. “Or… or… you can take me instead? Yeah. You can do that right? My soul for hers.” You ask quietly but his constant shaking of his head just angers you. You claw at your head, pulling at your hair.
“You’re a fucking demon! Souls are your thing! Not only that but you’re the only demon in all of Hell to have fucking time powers. LIKE HELL IT DOESN’T WORK THAT WAY! Are you really that fucking stupid!? That fucking WEAK?” You feel arms pull you back towards a warm chest. Belphegor holds you close as he tries to overpower you with his Sin. You can feel yourself get sleepy. You start to fall back towards the ground but Belphie holds you up. He whispered in your ear.
“I know (Y/n). I understand your sadness. Your anger. Your violence. But let’s sleep for now.” You try and struggle out of his arms but your arms feel like lead. You feel numb to the world. So instead you use up your last bits of energy to spew out one more sentence.
“I don’t give a shit. You’re dead to me.” Because even though you knew they could understand you better than most, the guilt that warped your brain lingered heavily. The day your sister died was the same day you told the brothers during dinner that you considered all of them your family. Levi jokingly asked which of your family was better? And you jokingly replied… them. So in the back of your mind, to keep you from killing yourself in despair you pushed every single negative emotion you felt onto those around you.
“You’re fucking dead to me.”
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desultory-novice · 8 months
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I'd gotten a shocking number of asks in over the past few days so it was inevitable I'd hold another... Lightning Round!!
Featuring: King D-Mind, Magolor, Adeleine + Noir, Dark Meta Knight, Sectonia, Dedede, Dark Taranza, Leongar and...
...SPECIAL NECRODEUS THEORY INSIDE!
Edit: OOPS! I meant to set this post up for tonight instead of unleashing it at some ungodly hour of the morning. Amateur mistake. Don't mind if you see me reblog it later when people are awake.
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Considering regular Dark Mind has some strong callbacks to Nightmare in his design (being a visual melange of Nightmare + Zero) you could believe they were partners/allies/frenemies at one point. It's possible that it was Parallel Dark Mind (because it pretty much as to be the Parallel of Dark Mind, right?) who decided, after possessing Parallel Dedede, that they had surpassed their fellow long-faced wizard rival-friend and stopped answering his calls.
Speaking of friends, I wonder if Parallel Nightmare had any underlings of his own akin to Dark Taranza and Pres. Parallel Susie. Ones that maybe wouldn't stab him in the back? ...Hmm, I wonder where Parallel Magolor and Parallel Marx are right now?
(If they're still vicious trouble makers, I wonder if it was one of them who was like "Oh, you TOTALLY ought to reach out to this guy if you get in trouble." "For sure! The results will be a real spectacle, I bet!")
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Haha! I wonder if I could start alternatively calling DMK x DMK (Shadow Dedede vers) DMKx2 or DMKsquared? But now that I think about duplicates and parallel selves (thanks to Crash's ask above) isn't it a little worriesome (/lh) that there are probably MANY "parallel" versions out there? Because again, D-Mind is probably possessing a Parallel Dedede but NOT the Parallel Dedede from Star Allies. And there may also be yet a third Dedede in the Clash verse who isn't possessed by anyone?! I mean, when it comes down to it, "parallel" just means "a universe that turned out differently!"
There could be dozens of "same character" down the line...
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I certainly think the potential for this idea is HUGE!
I myself am a fan of Magolor having to confront versions of himself that turned out wrong but the idea that he'd run across a version that was "wrong" but also did HARM to his friends...
Yeah, the "pay for one's sins" guy would definitely step in.
And I agree that is probably how he learned so much about events he wouldn't otherwise be around for. Dark Matter Clone? Susie's Father? Although I feel there's a chance he knew about Joronia from earlier all on his own. After all, he includes an accurate description of her in his weapon's catalogue in his shoppe! (And again, we've got the portraits on the abandoned TDX castle to suggest Magolor and Taranza communicated on some level in the past.)
As for the equipment, it's possible that those were in a way his "redemption" to Kirby - the only Kirby he had access to until he was able to "return to Dream Land" - and so keeping them didn't make sense. They were gifts. I also get the feeling that he doesn't have a huge interesting in physical fighting, and at least half of the gear is swords and axes. (The way he uses his version of the Ultra Sword is very particular and indicates no proficiency in swordsmanship on his part.) But if he really is dimension hopping on a semi-regular basis, he may also just need to keep it in stock at the shop!
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Awwww...! Dess will never admit this ask actually got Dess to draw a super quick sketch of Noir as an angel watching over Adeleine from heaven(What even is "heaven" in the Kirby-verse anyway?) right after reading it! Oh fudge, I just admitted to that very thing didn't I?! Nooo! What have I done?! It's so DeviantArt-tier sappy though that I don't want to post it. It's so cliche it would utterly ruin my rep! Definitely don't politely ask me to post it because then I might give in...!!
...A-ahem. But yes, Adeleine will be okay!
As to whether poor, poor Noir will ever learn that for himself, all I can say is... hold out hope for the final two parts of the story!
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I feel so embarrassed because I had to go back and look at the pic to realize they were even there. It was completely subconscious on my part. I guess that's the thing about being a novice artist. Sometimes you stumble upon something really cool without even noticing!
But now that you've pointed it out, it's something I think I'd like to keep doing. DMK as a sort of chipping crystal ball is neat~
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Despite all that I wrote in my initial post about this...
...I kinda want her to come back too! She was a great tragic villain! And the possibility of a Triple Deluxe remake... it could still happen!
(I mean, we just got Amazing Mirror with modern online multiplayer! It feels like they went the extra mile for that and so I think the Kirby series is still in a good place for receiving (good) fan service!)
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Yesss! It is SO good! Big, muscle-guy Dedede being tech-oriented?! It's out of type in the best way! I love that Dedede continually unlocks his potential, both in the changes to his personality but what he's capable of in skill sets too! It is, to me, the reason WHY he is Kirby's rival rather than Meta Knight or another character.
And if Meta Knight pilots a ship anything like he does a car in Dreamy Gear, it's a good thing he isn't the pilot. I wonder if there's a disconnect for him between flying and piloting? Like going from playing a 2D side-scrolling/overhead shooter where "up" is up versus playing one in first-person with reverse camera controls?
Poor Vul must put up with so much...!
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It could just be me (I think multiple interpretations are best) but I've always taken Dark Taranza's garb to not as a sign he took over Sectonia's role but as...a form of mourning for her?
Like he dresses and styles himself that way as tribute? So I suppose in that sense, I don't think Mirror Sectonia got corrupted.
Oh boy, I suppose my brief theory there works REALLY well for the people who think main world Sectonia got swapped with her Mirror World self if Dark Taranza "lost" her and then took up her "style."
(Although I also adore your "Mirror Sectonia started crazy and became good" theory too! It's wild in the best of ways!/genuine And just because I saw Dark Taranza as dressing that way doesn't mean Evil King Taranza isn't also an amazing idea!)
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Y-You know, my family often catches me on my accidentally using phrases that are maybe a little more coded and/or have different and deeper meanings than I probably intended. ^^;
So :cough: to clarify, I wouldn't necessarily say Leon's worthy of a full on diagnosis, but in his short pre-fight monologue (11 text boxes long) two of those contain a variation on the phrase "left behind."
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And two more talk about long-held dreams and years of planning.
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It suggests to me that Leon thinks about the animals being left behind by humanity a lot. Which is really interesting when you realize that as the literal King of the Beasts with a pack, nay a whole planet full of animals at his call and the entire run of the natural landscape to their own... he should really WANT for nothing??
Having Humanity ditch would be ideal for an animal-led society. And Leon doesn't specify what he wants the miraculous power for but...I get the feeling he wouldn't mind a chance to sink his teeth into AHEM "talk" to the ex-Forgotten Landers.
Now, whether Leon has felt their being ditched happened enough for it to become a reoccurring condition, uh... I guess Elfilis did shatter his soul and leave him for dead?  But the truth is I probably just exaggerated a wee bit. (But it got me this ask and a chance to talk about Leongar and I love the Beast Pack so it's all good!)
Also, you know, I'm just generally pretty notorious (?!) for reading a LOT (...too much?) characterization into very little! 
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Heh. I just know some of you are out there patiently trying to persuade me to become a Necrodeus fan~! XD
That said, I think the idea of him being a "...for the cost of your soul" Devil is very neat. It's a role the Kirby-verse doesn't have currently and could surely benefit from, at least when it comes to interesting interactions with the cast as a whole!
But, heh, you see, I think it's MORE interesting if he's not...!
...BecauseI pored back over the Skull Lord's wiki page for this (I wanted to see if he had some kind of title that would support the "devil" interpretation) and I spotted something that was of EXTREME interest to me given my obsession with the theory that :cough: 
All Ancient Artifacts Corrupt Absolutely!!!
Because Daroach says that the Skullys as a whole "changed" noticeably AFTER Necrodeus got ahold of shiny new Magic Staff...
Gosh! What's this?! Sudden personality changes associated with the acquisition of a magical artifact?! You don't say!!
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And look at the dang thing! I point specifically to the clawed talons clutching the center jewel. Like the talons of a certain crown...?
Also, how else could someone like Necrodeus (no offense to Necrodeus fans) split OUR nearly invincible Kirby into ten weaker copies? ...Sounds like an Ancient Artifact at work to me!
(Necrodeus another victim?! Uh oh, I may become a fan after all!)
Edit: ...Actually, I just got a weird sense of deja vu. Did I write about Necrodeus' staff being a Master Crown-tier object before??
That'd be embarrassing! (I've crested 1k posts though, so it wouldn't be too surprising if I start repeating myself at some point. ^^; )
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anavalancheofstucky · 2 years
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Brooklyn Baby
Hi again! Long time no post! I got the absolute pleasure of participating in the 2022 Shrunkyclunks Big Bang! I had such an incredible time and it truly allowed me to grow as writer. I have been working so hard to get this to y'all since March! I cannot be prouder of what I did, this was only my second fic EVER and it totally surpassed my wildest dreams. Thanks to the user that pointed out that this posted earlier than I meant! My timezone was off here on tumblr, OOPS!
I got the absolute pleasure of working with @buckymilf as my wonderful partner and artist! They produced, not one, not two, but FIVE pieces for my fic! The first one is available to see in the very first chapter! I am just in awe of the time and effort that they put into making my vision come to life!
I would also like to thank @hkandiu as my terrific beta! She was totally the cheerleader I needed and help to fix my MANY silly mistakes! Thank you also to the moderators @shrunkyclunksbang! Without you this Bang would not have existed and I never would have completed a fic for the very first time!
I present to you, Brooklyn Baby! Read it here on AO3!
Rating: Explicit
Categories: M/M, F/M
Pairings: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov (minor), Jane Foster/Thor (mentioned)
Characters: Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes, Tony Stark, Pepper Potts, Rebecca Barnes Proctor, Winifred Barnes, Clint Barton, Natasha Romanoff, Thor, Maria Hill, Nick Fury, Sam Wilson, Brock Rumlow, Helen Cho
Tags: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Small amounts of violence, Heat/Mating Cycles, Dady Kink, Fluff, Top Steve Rogers, Bottom Bucky Barnes, Alpha Steve Rogers, Omega Bucky Barnes, Stark Industries Engineer Bucky Barnes, Tony Stark is a Good Bro, Falling In Love, Love Confessions, Canon Divergence - Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Captain America: The Winter Soldier Era, Captain America Steve Rogers/Modern Bucky Barnes, True Mates, Insane Amounts of Fluff, SHIELDRA Reveal
Summary:
While cleaning up after the Battle of New York, Captain Steve Rogers found a puppy in a dumpster under some rubble who would eventually become his best pal, Dodger.
One day while walking Dodger appeared to be quite thirsty, maybe he had been pushing Dodger a bit too hard. It was easy to forget that Steve moves faster than the average human and Dodger.
To apologize, the supersoldier said “Oh, are you a thirsty little boy?” to the pup.
To Steve’s surprise, a voice from the patio replied, “I guess I am.”
The supersoldier looked up and saw the most beautiful omega. The omega had long brunet hair that was pulled back in what Natasha referred to as a “man bun.” He was dressed in a band t-shirt for a band the supersoldier didn’t recognize with distressed black jeans and combat boots.
The omega appeared to have just taken a drink from his beer and looked completely horrified. Steve laughed.
That was when Steve met Stark Industries Engineer, Bucky Barnes and his life changed forever. Little did he know that he had found his True Mate. Through the beginnings of a relationship and the reveal of HYDRA within SHIELD, Steve and Bucky navigate what looks like the start of forever.
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anndroidgirl · 2 years
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Birthday time
So, it's my birthday. Another year down in this so-called life. I didn't do much. I had a delivery from Amazon Prime. I bought myself some rechargeable batteries to use in my Shortwave radio and they came today. Exciting, huh? :p I was able to get 8 AA batteries. My little Eton takes four so I can use four and have another set charging or charged ready as a backup. They were less than $10 so that was a great deal. I tried several different 6-volt adapters and all caused static so batteries were the way to go. I didn't want to have to keep buying batteries all the time, so I went for some rechargeable ones.  I can't wait to try them and see how long they go. That last set of regular batteries that I put in my radio have lasted a lot longer than the first set. I was able to turn off the lighted display when it's not in use and that helped immensely!  I've been on this set for at least a week now. The others had only lasted a few days. I'm hoping to get at least a couple of weeks' charge out of the rechargeable ones when I start using those. I had to run out to get my birthday drink from Starbucks! I also got gas while out because I got 20 cents extra off of gas today because of the reward card I use and it is my birthday. I already get 5¢ a gallon off with them, so today it was .25¢. I washed Goontz while out and went by the grocery store. I wanted a small cake for my birthday, but like last year, all they had left was chocolate. ~_~; I got cupcakes instead. Of course, I FORGOT that I bought cupcakes when I got to Starbucks and got a lime-frosted oat bar to go with my latte. :p Oops.  I went by the post office while out. I haven't checked my box in a while. I also needed to mail off something. Hopefully, I'll get a QSL from that soon!  I had a yellow card in my box so now I have to go back during regular hours and stop by the desk. Not sure what that is. Nothing has shown up in informed delivery. Hmm. So, busy day, I totally forgot that I do laundry today and just put that in to start washing a bit ago. I probably will not be putting that away today! lol. Right now, I'm just trying to cool down from all the running around. I want to pull out the Shortwave and see what's going on the bands. I meant to get to that earlier but it's been a day! source https://www.anndroidgirl.com/my-blog/2022/08/birthday-time.html
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thisisjustafiller · 2 years
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food log and babble
6/1
oops i posted this earlier when it was meant to be a draft. i didn’t eat anything else so eh kind of doesn’t matter.
9:30AM: coffee
1:00PM: chocolate covered blueberries (130)
4:00PM: rice and fake crab, black coffee (400)
total: 530
gonna see about bumping that number up tomorrow. just got home from work, i’m tired and honestly not hungry. i was thinking about having a slice of pizza from work (340, not bad at all) but it got tossed before i could get to it. oh well. i’m just happy i know the cals for it so i can have a slice if ever i want it again.
work was good, can’t complain. my knees started hurting a little towards the last 15 minutes but other than that e z p z.. now i have a tarot order to do before bed and then nothing on my schedule until sunday.
i’ve begun microwave shopping with the boyf now that he’s on his own in our condo, as he wants one so we can meal prep and heat things up easily. mostly to save time/have less of an interruption during most days, but also for dieting. he always tells me what he eats and shows pictures, and he is not eating enough at all. i talked to him about it today and told him to beef it up a bit because he’s getting into disordered territory (he already does body check photos and calls them such, has been prone to under eating and has toyed with multiday fasting), and he tells me not to worry and that he’ll be getting a nutritionist soon so he doesn’t fall into bad habits. he plans on getting one through the gym he wants to join, but he may go back to his previous one if that falls through. she did a pretty good job last time. in the mean time i’ve convinced him to up his quantities a bit for tomorrow.  the dude has a bmr of 1800 and is eating around 900. jfc dude. it’s bad enough i have someone else that i’m always talking out of taking too much lax to purge and dealing with that, i don’t need him going off the rails too. and no, neither of these people are aware of what i’m up to in analand. i’m sure to eat normally in front of ms lax, and in front of my dude too when we’re in person with each other.
i wonder if i can ever undo this damage i���ve done to my eating patterns. the entire two weeks i had my dude here i kept thinking “once this is over i can starve again” every time food or beverage hit my lips. i might have really done it this time. i’ll revisit this thought in 50lbs.
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reader-rabbit · 4 years
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Celestial Music: Chapter Two
A/N: In a shocking display of human error, not only did I lose track of the days of the week and think Saturday was Friday (and Friday was Thursday), I also forgot to post this yesterday. Oops. Well, here it is now! Enjoy!
Read Chapter One Here!
Find Celestial Music on Wattpad
Warnings: Some violence
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The invaders congregated in the scorched inn, raiding what remained of its stores of ale and tart berry wine from summer harvests. When the wolf-eyed man pushed Marysa through the door, the air was loud and thick with laughter, and the stench of unwashed bodies and strong drink burned her nose. Marysa was surprised to see women among them, laughing and drinking, with blood spatters on their hands and arms that rivaled those on the hands and arms of the men.
In their revelries, clustered around the oak tables and arrayed haphazardly through the room with piles of spoils, they did not notice the silent young woman with steel in her spine and the pounding heart of a cornered beast. They did, however, turn to see the men behind her, who shouted in that strange language, one lifting his arm high. Marysa did not have to turn to know that he held her father’s sword.
At the sight of it, the room fell silent, as if he held one of the great stars in his hand instead of a sword. Halvar pushed Marysa further into the center of the room, where a fisherman had spilled a whole bottle of that prized summer wine last month. Marysa had painstakingly cleaned it, but there was still a stain there in the floor beneath her bare feet, darkening the irregular grain of the wood. The man holding her father’s sword spoke gravely, as if reciting an epic poem, and stalked forward to stand in front of her. Recitation over, he whirled to face her and rested the tip of that sword—the sword she had watched her father polish to gleaming blackness every evening before bed—on her bare throat.
“Why did you have this blade?” The invader narrowed his eyes as he enunciated the question with slow care, as if he was unaccustomed to their twisting consonants. The curious tilt of his head brought one of the braids in his hair to swing toward the neck of his tunic.
Marysa swallowed, and felt the sharp sword tip rise and fall on her neck with the movement. She knew how sharp this blade was. Her father had always warned her of its keen edge, and she had more than a few nicks on her arms and fingers from handling it improperly. One wrong move by her or by this invader, and her throat would be slit wide open.
“Tell me,” the invader snarled, his knuckles white on the handle of the sword. Self-preservation won over wisdom.
“My father,” she said. “The sword belonged to my father.”
The silence around her went as thick as the sap from the broad trees surrounding the village. The man in front of Marysa recovered first, leaning closer to her without moving the sword a hair. “And who,” he formed his words with menacing care, “was your father?”
Marysa did not dare breathe, did not dare swallow as she exhaled his name for the fear of the blade at her throat. “Aryn Blársverð.”
The man flinched at the name, his eyes going wide in his weathered face. His jerking movement let the sword fall from her neck, grazing the sleeve of her woolen coat and leaving a gap in the fabric where the draft of the room crept in to trace Marysa’s skin. The man knew her father’s name; Marysa had seen the recognition flash across his features, tightening his mouth and raising his brow. The man somehow knew and admired her father.
He turned and held his arms wide to the room, a showman in his element. He still held the sword as if it were a prize, but the room had seen his clumsiness with it, even if it was just in a moment of shock. Their admiring gazes were not on him as he made a grand announcement in his foreign tongue, but on Marysa.
A young invader with long, fair hair and the steady gaze of a man who knows himself spoke up, his words crashing waves in the silence of the room. He used the invader’s tongue, but she could tell from the upward tilt of his tone that he was asking a question. He watched her carefully, even as he addressed the group.
The showman took Marysa by the chin, jerking her forward and off balance. He pointed to her freckle-kissed face, then took a lock of dark brown hair that had come loose from its braid and clutched it in his fist. He unfurled his fingers from the wavy strands as if they were pearls instead of hair. She could not understand his words, but he sounded confident in his answer.
The invaders around her nodded, their own tightly-woven braids bobbing with the movement. Their eyes were on the showman who held her father’s sword. The young invader, however, was still on his chair, arms crossed over his broad chest while his steady gaze appraised her.
At this agreement, the wolf-eyed man took hold of Marysa’s arms and wrenched them behind her. With a swing of her father’s sword, the showman seemed to give him permission, and dread built heavy in her stomach. He jostled and herded her upstairs, where the three boarding rooms for the few travelers who stumbled across their small village waited. Only one of the three rooms seemed to have survived the invaders’ fire, and the invader opened that door and pushed her through. He tossed her in the direction of the bed, where Marysa fell face-first into the bedsheet she had laundered just a week ago. Before she could clamber to her feet, her hands were tied roughly behind her back, attached to the bedpost, and the door was slammed shut behind her.
Marysa righted herself slowly. The room was smothered in darkness; it had no windows, but night had long ago secured its hold on the sky. Still, Marysa knew that there was a table next to the bed that held a clean basin for water and a towel. The door could not lock, so if she could free herself from this rope, she could leave. The trouble was that the inn was too poor and the visitors too few for a second staircase to be useful. Only the staircase that opened to the inn’s bar and common room would take her down to the door and to freedom. The very same room that was now brimming with invaders, all armed to the teeth and stained with innocent blood.
Her father had taught Marysa to be smart. If there was a time to escape, it had either long passed, or it was coming soon. Though she suspected that chance had flown, she lay down on the bed and gather strength for the opportunity of escape that might yet come.
* * *
The invaders woke her before dawn, escorting her with rough hands to the docks, where longboats littered the shore. She had been shuffled into the largest one, along with other captives from the village, and a crowd of warriors had piled into the boat with their spoils and rowed away. Utter defeat washed over Marysa as she watched her home disappear into the horizon, sending a smoldering black pillar into the sky. The invaders must have set it ablaze like they had the town and left it to crumble in the heat. Soon even the smoke was swallowed by waves sparkling in the morning sun, though she could still taste it on her tongue and feel the burn of it in her nose. With that disappearing smoke, she knew her chance for escape was long gone, and so was her home.
She was wedged between the blacksmith’s broad-shouldered wife with tear tracks on her soot-streaked face and a waif-thin boy whose father had been a shepherd. She had not seen the blacksmith or the shepherd among the prisoners.
“Why didn’t you escape?” The blacksmith’s wife asked Marysa in a whisper, her wary eyes on the invaders that lined the benches of the boat, rowing to the beat of a drum. The woman’s name was—why could Marysa not remember her name? She always had trouble remembering names of acquaintances. She remembered her face, and that her father had praised the woman’s work and that of her husband, Amos. Was it Danira?
Marysa shook her head in answer, letting her words be so quiet that she barely had to move her mouth to respond. “They found me as I ran. I was not fast enough.”
At the sound of her whisper, the boy next to Marysa shuddered, digging his bony shoulders into her side. The showman invader who had paraded Marysa at the inn sat above the drum-beater at the back of the boat, watching her and the other captives with the eyes of a hawk. The captives had learned early not to speak loudly, or not to speak at all. One of the fishermen from the village, unhappy with his fetters and his captors, had complained loudly as they set sail, criticizing the invaders for their cowardice in taking what did not belong to them. That same fisherman was huddled in the prow of the ship now, his lash-striped back on display through the tatters of what had been his shirt. Marysa did not want to be at the cruel end of that leader’s whip.
She turned her gaze forward, away from the rocking waves. Her eyelids slid closed, and she pushed past the sensations of the prodding, shifting bodies of strangers beside her to concentrate on the motion of the boat in the water. She hoped distantly that she would not be seasick; she had never been in the open water before, but her mother had once bragged to Marysa that her father rode the sea as the Elf King rode his steed of silver.
Her mother had always been gentle, even to the point of fanciful. She loved the old tales, and, in her youth, had collected stories from the villagers and had written them down on parchment scrolls that now lay in ashes. Her mother’s favorite was the story of the Elf King’s journey to find his future wife. It was a long, winding tale, until the Elf King left all the green in the world for a land of sand and hot sun, where he found the most beautiful woman he had ever seen living in rocky caves. He sang to her, and used his magic to give her the first flower she had ever seen. Only then did she agree to be his, and they returned to the Earl King’s forest on his silver horse.
The story had been turned into a song, too. Marysa had only heard it once, but one phrase looped over and over in her mind.
Oh, the Elf King and his lovely bride:
As they rode, flowers grew behind.
She hummed the phrase softly, so quietly that she barely felt the air pass through her nose. At least the invaders had not taken this from her.
A hollow thunk startled Marysa’s eyes open. One of the invaders had dropped her oar, pointing over the bow of the ship at the water.
“Blárfiskr!” She exclaimed, with awe and fear in her voice.
Marysa twisted to see what so fascinated the woman, peering over the carefully-carved side of the boat to the water. In the waves on the side of the boat, a cluster of black dorsal fins pierced through the waves, only to disappear beneath the water with a puff of mist.
The sight sent bittersweet joy streaking through Marysa. She recognized the jagged edge of one female’s dorsal fin, rising next to the intimidating height of the large male of her village’s pod. These were the whales that had danced with her, that had helped to bring light into her darkest days.
Marysa looked away from those familiar silhouettes speeding through the water, ignoring the deepening ache in her chest, focusing instead on the weathered wooden slats beneath her feet. The invaders around her shouted what sounded like a mix of curses and prayers.
The son of the shepherd leaned into Marysa even further, his voice shaking as hard as his bony frame. “The black whales,” he said, “my father said they could kill a man with one bite.”
Marsya looked at him then, her confidence making her careless. “They can, but they will not.” Her earnest expression held his wide eyes captive. “They never attack boats. We will be safe.”
She spoke too loudly, and the hawk-eyed invader with a flair for the dramatic jumped from his bench, landing with the weight of a fallen tree. He strode toward her and the boy, and the windswept fur around his shoulders made him seem immense.
“Of what do you speak?” He called as he walked down the length of the boat, along the board that balanced in the center of the oarsmen’s benches. Her father’s sword hung in its scabbard on the man’s belt, thumping his leg gently with every stride. At his use of her language, and at the ringing tone he had taken, his men went silent.
Marysa went still. She wished she had her dagger. By the Eternal Star, she wished she had her father’s sword in her hands. But she had neither, and there was a warrior in front of her, demanding that she give answer.
“The whales,” Marysa said, praying her voice held steady.
The leader repeated her answer in a long, mocking drawl. “The whales. Is that what you call them? A weak name for a fearsome predator.”
If she could distract him, perhaps he would forget her mistake. “What is it you call them?”
The warrior grinned. At the sight of it a chill sped down Marysa’s spine. “Sjǫdúlfr. In your tongue, I believe it means ‘sea wolf.’” He leaned down and bent his knees, where his wrists rested and his hands dangled idly between them. He was eye-to-eye with Marysa now, and her whole body rattled with the force of the frail boy’s trembling against her side. “They are the cleverest predator of the sea,” he said casually, but there was steel in his eyes. “Their teeth are daggers and their eyes are keen. If they want to overturn this boat and eat us whole,” his eyes drifted lazily to the boy next to her, “they will.”
“Have they ever attacked one of your boats?” Marysa asked. It took all her force of will to make her lips move.
“No,” the man drawled. His eyes flashed to her face and his lips spread into a slow smile. “But that does not mean they will not today.”
He stood with shocking speed on the wave-cradled boat. “If the prisoners will not heed my orders,” he crowed, “then they will not eat.”
Gasps and cries of dismay leapt up from around Marysa, but they were silenced again with the invader’s fierce glare.
“A man who denies the needs of those under his care is a worthless coward,” Marysa spat. It was one of the maxims her father had often told her, often muttered darkly when the miller’s wife had walked down the street with a bruise the size of her husband’s fist on her cheek, which was too often. The invader stalked closer, his eyes alight with fury, but Marysa could not stop. “You do not deserve to wear my father’s sword.”
Something wet and warm landed explosively on her cheek. She lifted her bound hands to wipe it away and realized with a shock that this man had spat on her.
“You are my captive,” he snarled, “and I owe you nothing.” He turned to face his men, one hand pointing accusingly at her as he announced, “This one eats nothing for a week.”
The blacksmith’s fair-haired wife clasped the hem of Marysa’s coat in her bound hands. “Oh, child, what have you done?”
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agent-aurelie · 4 years
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And on this, the anniversary of the day of Cowboy Dave’s birth, I offer you the last chapter of my 5/1 fic, Stay.  I’m not saying I uploaded the Kanera sex chapter to spite Filoni on his birthday, but I’m also not saying I didn’t. 
There are lots of things I like about this fic and lots of things I’m proud of, and there are lots of things that I kind of wish I’d mapped out better. There are definitely things I’d revisit to correlate a little better with my headcanons, but it’s done and I was getting very tired of staring at it, so it was time to set it free.  I’m super grateful hat this fic helped introduce me to some completely lovely people, so that’s a win.  BIGGEST THANKS TO @the-arctic-violet for all of her hard work beta-ing and dealing with me screaming about these two at ridiculous hours.
Thanks for your comments and your support.  This was my first “big” jump into writing for this fandom and I really did enjoy it. <3 I have some other things to share soon. 
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jungkxook · 3 years
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—hot boy bummer. (m)
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⟶ pairing: jungkook x reader 
⟶ genre: fuckboy!jungkook / friends with benefits / friends to lovers + smut  
⟶ words: 14,633
⟶ rating: 18+ 
⟶ summary: when jungkook offers you a proposition of just sex, no strings attached, how can you possibly say no? after all, what are best friends for?
⟶ warnings: kind of a crack fic, sprinkle of angst, way too casual conversations mid-sex, jealous jungkook, slight himbo jungkook tbh (he’s kind of a sweet loveable idiot), he also has a big dick oops, man bun and blonde jungkook to feed my fantasies!, multiple smut scenes!!!, missionary, dry humping, oral sex (m receiving), face fucking, unprotected sex, slight degradation (mostly jungkook hating himself), brief name calling, light choking, sort of praise kink
⟶ note: this was inspired by a number of things but mainly do me by kim petras being on jungkook’s spotify playlist, this tiktok sound, and this tumblr post lol also big thank you to @bratkook​ and @onherwings​ for letting me ramble on about this fic and reigniting my inspo for it 💛
( p.s. i tried to proofread this but if y’all see any typos no u didn’t, thank u <3 )
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Being friends with Jungkook meant a myriad of things but mainly that there were hardly ever any boundaries that stood between you and him.
Having known him for most of your life, it was just a quintessential part of yours and his relationship with one another. From high school parties where you drunkenly spewed on his shoes and in his dad’s car after he tried lugging you home (and taking the fall all himself for your sake) to letting him lose his virginity in your bed to some girl you didn’t know because your parents were out of town and his would crucify him on the spot if they had found out; or him discovering your stash of vibrators in your dorm one day, or seeing each other naked more often than was probably necessary, there was nothing that either of you could do that would phase the other at this point even when it maybe, probably, definitely should.
College, and Jungkook’s sudden six pack of hard rock abs, only seemed to amplify the chaos of your friendship. If you’re being honest, the abs are sort of a plus ━ but they brought an air of fuckboy to him that is undeniably there even if he tries to deny it sometimes. You suppose it isn’t all his fault. Jungkook has always been bold and brash, attractively charming. Considering he’s seemingly made it his mission to sleep with every girl on campus before he graduates (undisclosed, if you’re being honest, because he’s never outwardly admitted it but you have a hunch), his confidence somehow hasn’t failed him yet.
But then there’s one night in which you think to yourself briefly: this surely must draw some sort of line.
“What if we, like, had sex?”
Jungkook says this a little too casually from beside you. He’s sat on the couch in his dorm, scrolling aimlessly on his phone, and you’re sprawled out on the remaining space, feet kicked up in his lap. You’re positive he’s drunk but, then again, so are you. The remnant shot glasses of soju you had both started the night with (though you think Jungkook’s had half the bottle himself), and your second glass of wine, are all evidence of that. You’re so absorbed by some anime Jungkook had been watching upon your arrival and refused to change that you almost don’t hear what he says. Almost. You do, however, nearly choke on the gummy bear you’ve just tossed into your mouth.
After a sudden hysterical fit of coughs, you manage to sputter, “Excuse me?”
“Like, hypothetically speaking.” He hardly budges when you turn to gawk at him, as if he’s asking you something as casual as what to eat for dinner or if you could pass him the T.V. remote. “Except, not really hypothetically.”
“You’re joking, right?” You scoff.
Jungkook blinks. “No. Why would I be joking?”
You blink. The longer you stare at him, the quicker you’re able to discern that there’s some sort of earnesty in his words and it slightly concerns you. Suddenly, you’re warm in the face. To distract from that painfully obvious fact, an incredulous laugh bubbles at your lips and you kick one of your feet at his thighs. “Very funny, Koo. Can we change the show now if you’re not even watching it?”
“I’m not joking, Y/N.” The severity in his tone makes you sit up at once. When you turn to look at him, he flashes you a taunting smirk, though the devious sparkle in his eyes lets you know this seems to be anything but a joke to him. “I’m sure you’ve thought of me naked before.”
“You’re such a fucking idiot━” Okay, so maybe you have thought of him naked before but how is it your fault when you literally have seen him naked before, and he’s so unabashed around you? “Should I bring you to a hospital to get your head checked, or━?”
“Just hear me out━” Now, he pushes himself to the edge of the sofa. “Why are you here right now?”
“In life? Because I honestly have no clue━”
“No, I meant here. Getting drunk in my apartment on a Friday night instead of getting railed.”
“Okay, I didn’t ask to get called out like that,” You grumble stiffly. “And because you’re my best friend, and I like spending time with you.” It’s not entirely a lie, because you would much rather spend time with Jungkook than anyone else. But when you feel his eyes boring into you in a look of scrutiny, your lips form into a pout which you try to hide by puckering them. “Also because boys are stupid and Hoseok’s blind date stood me up. Again.”
The events from hours earlier resurface in your memory, in which you had spent all evening making yourself look pretty for a boy you had only talked to through text that your roommate had introduced you to, only to arrive to the restaurant you were supposed to be meeting at and waiting there for half an hour by yourself before the boy had sent you a message saying something along the lines of “something came up, hope we can reschedule,” filing it under one of the lamest excuses you’ve ever heard because it hardly even borders on a valid excuse. It’s what had ultimately made you storm into Jungkook’s apartment an hour ago, exclaiming aloud as a greeting with a simple yet scarily cheerful I hate men! because Jungkook knows all about your plights with finding a significant other (or even just someone decent enough to open your legs to), usually lamenting men’s inability to have any emotions. Even the ones who you think are respectable enough, who say they’re fine not having sex on the first date, usually tend to flee right after you finally let them in because sex, as you come to find, seems to be all that men care about.
Admittedly, Jungkook is not any different.
“But it’s not like you’re any better.”
This seems to personally offend Jungkook. He looks at you cynically. “Me?”
“Tell me why you’re here with me on a Friday night when you’re literally one of the hottest guys on campus,” You point out. “You can get any girl, and yet you somehow manage to ruin it every single time. Like with Eunha.”
Jungkook winces. The poor Eunha in question is a pretty girl from your chem class, whomst Jungkook had somehow managed to charm. From what you know, they had hooked up a handful of times before that fateful night in which Jungkook had abruptly broken things off with her. If you’re being honest, he’s not a total monster. The only thing that seems to scare him away is when a girl asks to cuddle him in the morning or talks about the prospective future together. He doesn’t want to hurt them, he told you once before, and finds it much easier to nip any potential relationship in the bud before it can get too far, too out of control.
“We literally only slept together three times anyway and we never went out,” Jungkook points out. “What’s the big deal?”
A roll of your eyes doesn’t go unnoticed by Jungkook. “Yeah, it’s not her fault you’re scared of commitment.”
“Nu’uh,” The boy sulks. “I’m only scared of realistic things, like microwaves.”
A snort bubbles at your lips, and it’s frustrating how adorable he finds the simple action. Rather than entertain the thought of his irrational fear of kitchen appliances (because you’ve heard it all before, and you still can’t find where he was incited with the terror of an exploding microwave), you sit up.
“Jungkook, I don’t even like you like that.”
“I don’t like you like that either. That’s why it’s so perfect!” Jungkook says brightly. “Look, we know each other better than anyone else ever could. We’re already comfortable with each other. We don’t have to go through all that boring small talk. All I’m saying is we could give it a try. No relationship, no emotions, just sex.”
You consider the thought for a moment, weigh the pros and cons in your head.
The cons? He’s your best friend.
The pros? He’s your best friend, and he’s hot.
Truthfully, your slightly buzzed mind can find very little to dissuade you away from the inviting proposition and maybe that’s why you begin to entertain the idea. And, sure, you had just complained profusely about how men sometimes only used you for sex, but it’s not like you don’t have needs too. You just don’t have the gusto in you anymore to spend days on a boy who will only just leave you the moment you let him have sex with you. At least with Jungkook, he’s already offering you a blatant deal of sex only and you know you won’t have to worry about him breaking your heart; and he doesn’t have to worry about the dreaded dreamy post-sex cuddle talk of a future family and babies and a white picket-fence home. It’s a win-win for the both of you, really. Or maybe you’re just telling yourself that.
“How would we even start?” You ask finally. “I mean… Do you even find me attractive enough in that way?”
“Yeah.” Jungkook hardly bats a lash. He meets your stare, licks slowly at his lower lip. When he sees the cross look of disbelief scrunching at your face, he hastens to respond. “I’m not blind. You’re fucking drop dead gorgeous, Y/N.”
“But physically attractive? I’m no hot girl Eunha.”
“If I wanted Eunha, I’d be between her legs right now. Y/N, of course I think you’re attractive.” A gentle sliver of a smile dances upon his lips. He leans his head on the back of the couch, eyes fluttering over your appearance shortly. “I’ve always liked your lips, and your eyes. Think they’re beautiful.”
Suddenly, you’re flustered again. The room feels as if it’s getting increasingly warmer, yet you seem to want to bask in the feeling and attention a little longer. “That’s too sentimental.”
“It’s true though.”
“Well, you’re lucky I’ve always had a thing for idiots,” You jest playfully. “Jerks, too. Playboys who are too hot for their own good.”
“Ah, and I love it when you talk dirty to me.” A cheeky grin tugs at his lips as he clutches at his heart over his chest. “It’s a good thing I like it a little too much, knowing you’ll always keep me in check.”
But then the mirth seems to fade from your mind long enough for you to hum aloud pensively, “And I’ve always liked your eyes. I’ve never seen such big eyes before. Sometimes, if I look long enough, it’s like I can see the stars in them.”
As you’re speaking about them, his irises glisten magnificently. He bites at his lip now, as if to hide the way his soft smile turns sheepish. “I like your bum.”
“Really? I always worry it’s too flat.”
“Are you kidding? Your ass is a fucking god-send. It’s hard not to stare when you wear leggings sometimes,” Jungkook admits, earning a small giggle from you. “And I like your boobs. I’ve always wondered…” He trails off abruptly, shaking his head. He shoots you an apologetic look. “I’m sorry. I’ll stop. I’m being an idiot, aren’t I?”
“Well, maybe I don’t want you to stop.”
Silence saturates the room now, settling comfortably between the two of you. He wonders what you’re thinking, and you wonder if he can hear your heart hammering against your chest. Perhaps on any other day when you were of sound mind, you could find a plethora of reasons as to why sleeping with your best friend was a terrible idea. But being that you were slightly tipsy, and Jungkook isn’t far off, you can find not one fault, except for maybe how tragically hot Jungkook looks sitting across from you and how he’s never been yours, at least in that way. Would it be so wrong to try just once?
You shift then, pushing yourself to your knees if only so you can worm your way towards him before swinging one leg over his. You settle back on his lap, hands gripping his shoulders. He can feel your core press against the inside of his thigh, just where his dick is nestled and he has to bite back a moan. His eyes are wider than usual, as if believing the moment to be surreal, though something sultry threatens to darken them.
“Y/N…”
The excitement crackles through your veins like electricity. You’ve never been in such a compromising position with Jungkook before, and you wonder if it should be concerning just how much you’re enjoying it. It almost feels as if time slows down, every second dragging on, yet he can’t look away. His hands come to tug at your hoodie (that he’s almost positive was his once upon a time before you nicked it from his closet) and you meet him part way, replacing his efforts as you pull it up and off your body. Then, you’re sitting back on his lap in your full nude glory, chest bare and right in his face. He eyes the swell of your breasts, the perk of your nipples. Of course you’re not wearing anything beneath your hoodie ━ and, god, he loves it.
“Touch me?”
Your voice comes to him in an almost dream. You reach for his hand then, your palm soft around his knuckles and the tattoos that ink his skin. It’s the same hand of which he wears the other half to your pair of friendship bracelets in one of his favourite colours of red, decorated with little pink hearts. It came in a matching set of two (yours in your own favourite colour, currently on the wrist of the hand you’re using to guide Jungkook’s), cute little macrame braid ones with hearts woven into the design that you had pointed out one day while you were both at the mall and he had bought without any hesitation mostly as a joke but resulted in both of you wearing them on a daily basis.
Now, all he can do is continue watching you with bated breath as you guide his hand right where you both want him. He comes to cup the underside of one of your breasts, your hand over his pressing his fingers tighter together until you can feel some sort of pleasant pressure. And, just like that, something feral and needy seems to snap within him. His hand slithers from your grasp if only so he can flick his thumb across your nipple, mesmerized by the softness of it. He’s only ever seen you naked once before and it was fleeting. You were both drunk, skinny dipping in a lake with a handful of other friends, but it had been too dark to notice much else. But now? Now, he can see all of you and the sight strikes a chord right down to his dick.
“You’re fucking beautiful,” Jungkook groans.
“Koo.” The cute little nickname you had given him sounds dirty now as it slips from your lips in a moan. “Too sentimental.”
But Jungkook isn’t listening because you really, really, really are so beautiful. He bows his head to your chest, catching one of your nipples in his mouth. He murmurs something against your chest that sounds akin to, “We can take things slow.”
“Slow…” Your head is spinning, but it’s a delightful sensation. Something hard pokes against your ass now, and the adrenaline only seems to build within you. It’s odd how everything feels so foreign ━ exploring his body and these newfound feelings like the uncharted territory it is ━ yet secure and safe at the same time. As if you know what to do next, where to touch next, how to move, your bodies almost fitting together like pieces to a puzzle. “Y-Yeah, I like that. Can I move?”
“Fuck, yes, please,” he growls. He’s much too busy nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin on your chest, teeth tugging at your nipple.
You hurry to obey, giving a small experimental swivel of your hips that almost immediately has the both of your inhaling a sharp breath of air. His dick strains against his sweatpants, the material doing very little in protecting him against you. Your core throbs as you rub yourself on him.
“Like this?” You rasp.
“Yeah, just like that.” Jungkook’s head rolls back onto the couch, his eyes squeezing shut and his blonde hair spilling into his eyes. He clenches his jaw, the nerves fluttering in the corner, as pure euphoria riddles his features. You don’t think you’ve ever seen anything so sexy. “Fuck, we probably shouldn’t be doing this.”
“Yeah,” You agree, breathless. “Do you wanna stop?”
“No. Do you?”
“No.”
“Thank god.” The sigh of relief that emits from Jungkook startles even him but, in the heat of the moment, he doesn’t register how any of this could be a mistake. “Ah, shit━ Faster━”
“Mmm, Koo━” You whimper as you quicken your pace, the vulgar harbored thought of his dick in you thrilling you to no end.
“Fuuck, I’ve never heard you sound like this before. So needy, so desperate,” Jungkook grunts, his fingers digging into your hips. And it’s all because of him, the way you’re feeling. He’s never wanted to hurry to please you faster, itching to tear you apart if he’ll get to hear those noises from you again and again. “I━”
He’s gonna cum, and he’s not even in your pussy. What’s gotten into him?  
He presses you a little harsher against his dick, sitting up straighter so that his chest is pressed flush against yours. He leans forward, lips chasing after yours, before you pull back just enough sluggishly to press your finger to his mouth.
“Uh uh. No kissing,” You rasp.
The words process in Jungkook’s head, but the weight of them don’t seem to linger in his daze. He’s far too overwhelmed by you and the way you’re making him feel to even begin to try to decipher why you avoid his mouth and so, for now, he doesn’t care. Instead, he buries his face in the crook of your neck, nose nuzzling against your throat. You clutch at his hair, tugging at the roots tight enough for him to moan.
“Nnngh, Jungkook━” You whine. “I’m gonna━ Oh, fuck, Koo━”
And then you’re unravelling, right in his very arms. He holds you close as you tremble and shake, rutting your hips sloppily against his to ride out your high, and Jungkook thinks he can definitely get used to this. The familiar burn forms in his stomach and, without even thinking of it, he comes in the confinements of his pants.
But in the heat of the moment, he doesn’t notice quite a lot of things. Neither do you.
So, maybe you could both find a hundred and one reasons why having sex with your best friend would surely cross some lines, but the thing with you and Jungkook (and what would eventually blossom into a hubristic relationship of sorts) is that it wasn’t just sex. You would always be comfortable around him, as he would be with you. And nothing could ever possibly get weird between the two of you ━ not when you had both made a promise to each other that it wouldn’t get in the way of your friendship.
Because ━ while, yeah, he’s hot and suffers from fuckboy tendencies from time-to-time and, aside from random late night hookups ━ he was still the same boy that would drag you out at three in the morning to drive to the next city over for a bowl of ramen, who would marathon shows as long as One Piece or Game of Thrones with you, watching as much as you can in one all-nighter; who would come to your dorm, no matter the time of day, the moment you said you were sick or suffering from cramps, piled high with your favourite snacks; who shared a repertoire of silly inside jokes with you that never made any sense to anyone but the both of you; who insisted you both wear friendship bracelets even in college. He would always be an angel to you, treat you well, because you meant that much to him.
A small thought in the back of Jungkook’s head wonders, above all else, if you were anyone different, would he have even bothered suggesting such a ludicrous idea, drunk or not?
Because he’s positive no one else could make him cum in his pants like a horny prepubescent teen ━ no one except for you.
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“If we’re really gonna do this, we need to set some ground rules.”
Admittedly, neither you nor Jungkook knew what would happen after Jungkook’s proposition to you. Maybe you were expecting the two of you to pretend as if nothing had ever happened, or laugh it off as something so inconsequential that neither of you should bother worrying about it. Instead, the very next day, you find that you’re back in Jungkook’s dorm. Only this time, you’re in his bed, and he spent the past half hour sufficiently eating you out.
Now, you’ve had an epiphany in the form of Jungkook’s dick, and that is that it’s big.
You’ve seen it before on occasion ━ like when he streaked nude across campus as a dare or when he needed to use your shower because his apartment was under maintenance and he walked out on you in the living room ━ but this is clearly a very different circumstance. All red, swollen, angry tip wet and glistening with precum. You had to brace yourself as he pushed himself into you, cautiously and slowly, enjoying the way you stretch to fit around him. If you had a drunken excuse the night before for loving the thought of getting off with Jungkook, then you surely don’t have one now. It’s a shameless guilty pleasure, you think, that he’s at least indulging in.
“Rules,” Jungkook scoffs now. “You’re such a nerd. Fuck, you feel so fucking good━ You doing okay?”
More than. Your head lolls back against his pillow, eyes nearly rolling to the back of your head. “Mhm.”
“Want a minute?”
“Maybe.”
Jungkook pauses without any hesitation, gnawing on his lower lip as your walls clench around him so tightly he feels he might fall apart then and there. His hands are on your hips, thumbs rubbing comforting circles against your burning skin. A few deep breaths later and you’re probing Jungkook to move again. His hips rut into yours at a leisure pace, and he marvels for a moment at the way his dick disappears into your pussy, slick and wet with your own arousal. The thought of being in you ━ of finally feeling your walls wrapped around him, all wet and snug ━ is enough to make him bust then and there, but he refrains miraculously.
“Holy fuck,” You groan. “Why are you so big━”
Your voice cuts off into a delightful whimper, walls aching around him. Jungkook snorts, burrowing his face in the crook of your neck. “Nothing sexier than hearing you stroke my ego.”
“Don’t let it get to your already big head,” You retort sluggishly.
“Big head!” he grumbles against your throat, lips brushing faintly against your skin and sending shivers down your spine. “Insult me some more. You know how it gets me going.”
“Oh my god, shut up. Where were we?”
“Rules.”
“Right,” You breathe in a sharp inhale of air as he grinds against your hips. “And rule number one is no kissing. That’s way too intimate.”
Jungkook quirks a brow. “How is kissing more intimate than having my dick in you?”
“It just is.” You refuse to tell him the truth. You poke your fingers at his sides, causing him to jerk against you. “Don’t question it.”
“Fine. Then no sentimental shit in general, like cuddling or pet names,” Jungkook retorts. “And no public displays of affection.”
“Okay,” You nod. “Fuck, Jungkook━”
“God, I love hearing you moan my name,” Jungkook grunts. He watches with fascination the way your face reacts at his every movement. “Too much?”
“No. Kinda hot,” You admit. An abrupt thought pops into your head that has you murmuring hazily, “Oh, and you can’t have sex with me to your sex playlist.”
Jungkook looks appalled. The sex playlist in question is one you’ve heard briefly before, if only because you’ve walked in on Jungkook and his flavour of the month a handful of times one too many times.
“So you’re telling me you don’t want to have the best orgasm of your life to The Weeknd or the Neighbourhood? WAP?” Jungkook asks, wriggling his brows suggestively. “Alanis Morissette?” You have less than half a second to register the 90s pop singer as out of place before Jungkook breaks out into song with a brief rendition of Head over Feet. “You’re my best friend, best friend with benefits━!”
Part of you knows he’s joking, but there’s still a small sliver of you that makes you gawk at him dubiously before dissolving into a fit of unabashed laughter. It rumbles against his chest, vibrates his dick in you. “You’re not serious, are you? That’s not actually in your sex playlist, is it?”
He flashes you a shit-eating grin. “Guess you’ll never know now.”
Another roll of your eyes makes him snicker. He’s gotten used to your snide remarks, but he’ll gladly keep suffering under them if he gets to wipe that taunting smirk off your face each time with the way his dick makes you feel. You cling a little tighter to his shoulders and muse aloud, “So that’s it then?”
“Yeah━” Jungkook knows you’re referring to the rules and your plan, although it’s getting harder to focus on talking as he continues to grind against you. “And nothing has to change between us, even if we stop. We’re still just two best friends.”
“Yup.”
“Who have sex from time to time.”
“Yeah.”
He can’t help himself. He tries again. “Who might kiss.”
“Nope.” You’re smiling even despite the way you shoot him an aggravated stare first.
“We might?”
“No, we definitely won’t.”
Worth a shot, he thinks to himself. At least you really do always keep him in check.
After all, what are best friends for?
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So, maybe a part of you thought the shift in your relationship with Jungkook wouldn’t last very long. A week at most, and maybe Hoseok would find you another pointless let down of a blind date to go on and Jungkook would get horny for some other girl ━ but it’s certainly been more than a week now, and you’ve had sex with him more than two times.
A third, and a fourth, if you’re being blatantly honest, and maybe a few more times after that but you don’t really remember what count you’re both on now which should probably be concerning. Days elapse into days, which turn to weeks, then months. Morning, afternoon, and night.
It’s not as if you hadn’t already spent almost every waking moment with Jungkook but now you had a reason to be at his apartment at any and all hours of the day and not solely for movie watching marathons. You’re positive he’s still having his occasional random flings, though you’re fortunate his commitment issues at least force him to go to their homes rather than his for the most part, so you never really have to witness half-naked girls stumbling out of his apartment just as you’re wandering in. He says it has something to do with how his bedroom is his sacred space, though you think it’s more like he wouldn’t want his hook ups discovering his Overwatch figurines or something (because, before Jungkook’s proposition, you’ve walked in on him once and a girl when they were entangled on the couch in his living room).
But you’ve noticed lately you’re getting too comfortable with your arrangement with Jungkook; too comfortable knowing he’ll be there at the end of a long day to greet you, to please you until you’re crying out his name. Sometimes he tells you about the girls he’s texting, or shows you a picture from a hot girl’s Instagram whose D.M.s he’s just slid into. And sometimes you’re left wondering how often he comes straight to you after hooking up with a random girl.
It shouldn’t matter to you, and you swear that it doesn’t.
Maybe you’re just overthinking things. Hoseok certainly seems to think so, but his judgement wasn’t much to go by.
Because, lately, Hoseok has been encouraging you more and more to give Yukhei (the blind date Hoseok had initially set you up with when you found yourself at Jungkook’s) another chance for two reasons: 1) “Yukhei’s a nice boy,” he had cheerfully reminded you, “he’ll treat you well,” and 2) “Stop fucking your best friend. It’s morally wrong.”
There were many things wrong with his statement, from the fact that you didn’t exactly consider standing up a date as “nice” and that you were also still begrudgingly lamenting the way Hoseok had discovered your recent fling with Jungkook (although, you weren’t being very inconspicuous, having shower sex with Jungkook early one morning when you were certain Hoseok would be spending the day at his fiance’s home instead of yours).
But then you meet Yukhei and you realize that, oh crap, he’s cute. And he’s nice.
As it turns out, after bumping into him one day when you’re with Hoseok lounging on the quad of your campus and he comes bounding over to return a textbook Hoseok had lent him for a specific class, Yukhei is so easily charming. He also gives a pretty valid excuse for flaking on your date, proving that he had to present his dissertation, making you clearly aware that he’s cute, nice, and smart. Jungkook, on the other hand, doesn’t see the appeal, yet his curiosity and intrigue seems to get the best of him.
“So that was your blind date?” Jungkook asks after grabbing your attention on the quad and stealing you away from Hoseok and Yukhei. “Yukhei?”
“You know him?”
“Seen him around,” Jungkook shrugs nonchalantly. “I’ve never really talked to him. But him? You’re not telling me you’re actually interested in him, are you?”
“I don’t know. Maybe,” You’re truly just as clueless about your feelings towards Yukhei as Jungkook seems to be. “What’s so wrong about him?”
“He’s━” Jungkook stops. He shakes his head. “Heard he’s got a small dick anyway.”
You shoot the boy a wary look, only to find him grinning deviously at himself. “Maybe he just wants to be friends.”
At this, Jungkook lets out a scoffing sound that borders on disbelieving laughter. “No, I definitely think he wants to have sex with you in his Toyota Camry, Y/N, but what do I know?”
“You’re not jealous, are you?”
“No, why would I be jealous?”
You can’t quite tell if he’s angry or not but, then again, why would he be? As far as either of you are concerned, there’s nothing to be jealous of.
So then why does it feel like he’s simply just telling himself that?
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“Are you seriously on your phone right now?”
Jungkook asks this from somewhere behind you a handful of days later, a little peeved but most likely because your jarring 8:00 a.m. alarm had roused the both of you violently awake. In his defense, Jungkook is not a morning person.
“Oh, I’m sorry.” You’re currently sprawled out on your hands and knees on his bed, phone still in your grasp after having plucked it off the nightstand in haste. Your clothes are scattered across the floor of his room, remnant clues of the night before when he had beckoned you over after hours, and your body is covered in nothing but hickeys and an unbuttoned blue flannel belonging to Jungkook that you had chucked on last night that does nothing in covering up the swell of your breasts which Jungkook is now currently eyeing. “Am I not giving you enough attention? Were you expecting cuddles or something? Thought that wasn’t in the rules.”
“No,” Jungkook huffs. He runs a hand through his long messy hair in an attempt to fix it; he ultimately gives up taming his locks, instead using the hair tie around his wrist to tie his hair back into a cute yet sexy little ponytail. As he does so, you notice the red friendship bracelet around his wrist and smile smally. “But my dick could use some cuddles. Preferably with your mouth, but it will also gladly accept your hand.”
Jungkook may not be a morning person but, as you’ve come to realize, his dick certainly is.
It’s painfully obvious too, his hardened length straining against the gray sweatpants he had thrown on at some point. And, god, did he have to wear those? It left little to the imagination, the outline of his length teasing you just enough.
“I should get going,” You say. “I have a test coming up. There’s supposed to be a review session today in class, and I don’t want to miss it.”
“Well, you don’t seem like you’re in a rush since you’re still on your phone,” Jungkook points out. “Who are you texting anyway? Yukhei?”
“Anger is an emotion,” You rebuke casually. “So is jealousy.”
Jungkook feigns a look of mock hurt. “I’m not angry or jealous! I’m needy.”
Still, Jungkook reaches out to swiftly pluck your phone from your hands.
“Jungkook━!”
He’s pressed up against your back in an instant, his dick hard against your ass, and he doesn’t move very far even when you twist in your spot in an attempt to grab your phone back. You don’t, and instead you end up on your back with him on his side, propped up on his elbow. You miss when he casts a swift gaze down at your phone, only to see that Yukhei’s chat messages are indeed open, and something seems to gnaw terribly at his gut before he tosses your phone to the side. He’s looking at you now with those big beautiful eyes of his, and you hate it.
“Please?” he beckons. He ruts his hips impatiently but slowly against your leg. He drops his head to bury his face in the crook of your neck, lips dangerously close to brushing against your flesh but he refrains somehow. “M’so hard right now, could probably bust the moment you touch me.”
The thought is tempting, having a helpless Jungkook cumming in your hands. The sight alone has quickly become your favourite thing, helping the frustrated boy get off. Besides, you’re certain you could ask Hoseok for the review notes.
Fuck it, you cave.
You fidget until you’ve pressed him back against the bed and have clambered on top of him, wiggling your way down to fit between his legs. Jungkook is watching you now with a half-asleep expression, though his teeth sink into his lower lip as you pull at his sweatpants until they’re down at his thighs, letting his swollen dick spring free.
“You know━” You hum. You reach out to grab at the base of his cock. “Yukhei wants to hang out, and Hoseok keeps telling me to give it a shot.”
That much is true. Part of you wants to say yes, if only because Yukhei seems promising enough, but the thought alone is enough for you to feel as if you’ve done something horribly wrong to Jungkook.
“Oh.” The word eclipses Jungkook’s mouth in a shallow breath of air. Then, your mouth wraps around the puffy head of his dick, shining with leaking precum that you swallow back, and Jungkook’s reaction is immediate. Head thrown back, face scrunching together, muscles in his toned abdomen flexing as he seizes and grunts aloud. “Oh, fuck━ Well… Are you gonna?”
Jungkook asks the last question with much difficulty, and a part of him thinks it doesn’t all have to do with how you’re making him feel.
“Dunno.” You snort around his dick, and he marvels at how adorable such a lewd action can seem.
You decide to focus on sucking him off because it truly is a sexy sight to see, letting the topic of Yukhei drop. Jungkook certainly doesn’t mind. As you swirl your tongue around his tip and reach up with your free hand to fondle at his balls, his long hair falls into his lashes but he still tries to find you past his wild locks, hooded eyes gazing down at you.  
“Ah, shit━” Jungkook hisses delightfully, hips jerking forward instinctively into your mouth. The faintest hints of a drowsy smirk tug at his lips. “Fuck, yes, just like that.”
Yeah, you think to yourself then, you’re definitely going to ride him later. Screw going to class.
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From: Jungkook Sent: 1:05 a.m.
bro i noticed u werent wearing our friendship bracelet while u were giving me head earlier. is everything ok??
You wake in the morning to a single text from Jungkook ━ and one you had not been expecting.
That’s not to say that getting the occasional text message from Jungkook at any and all hours of the day was abnormal, but the extent of his messages sent anywhere past midnight usually always range from something more coherent in the form of “what would u do if i was there rn?” to something exuding typical lazy Jungkook manner with a simple “dtf?” or “send noods lol” to something even more provocatively cryptic such as the eggplant and splashing water (or, as far as Jungkook is concerned, something else entirely) emojis and nothing else, left open for your own interpretation that typically, usually, without a doubt, results in you in his bed and his dick in you. But this seems to be something else entirely.
Unfortunately, Jungkook’s text isn’t the only concern of yours.
Hoseok has spent the better part of the morning giving you a lecture on why having sex with your best friend is bad. He seems so passionate about the topic that you’re certain he would have pulled out a powerpoint at any moment, each slide ending in a picture of Yukhei and why you should maybe try fucking him instead, if you entertained the idea a little longer. Hoseok claims it’s just a harmless date. Yukhei might be a nice boy, but you don’t know how you feel about him. You don’t want to lead him on, and a scary thought points out the fact that maybe, while Yukhei is a nice boy, he isn’t Jungkook.
“I don’t get why you don’t just give Yukhei a chance━” Hoseok is saying now, sat on the couch in your shared apartment with him. “It’s not like you have to marry him. I don’t think one date will hurt━ Aaand, you’re not even listening to me anymore, are you?”
The sheepish look on your face is enough of an answer for him. You’ve been anxiously eyeing your phone and the text Jungkook had sent you last that you’ve yet to respond to, even despite being awake for more than a few hours now.
“Yes, I am listening,” You say dismissively. “Something about how one date won’t hurt, but that’s what you said when Yoongi asked you out, and you’re literally engaged now.”
The glistening metallic ring on Hoseok’s finger is evidence enough. The boy looks down at it as if seeing it for the first time, purses his lips, and then nods in agreement. “Okay, yeah, maybe you’re right. But you’re holding out for Jungkook and for what? He’s hot, yeah, and he’s your best friend, sure, but at the end of the day he’s still just a horny male who wants to stick his dick in anything that moves.”
“Hoseok.” Your grumbling sigh is interrupted by the motion of your phone vibrating against your thigh once more. You peek at the screen fleetingly to see a new text.
From: Jungkook Sent: 2:35 p.m.
send n00ds?
miss ur tits :(
Typical Jungkook.
The text from the night before is all but seemingly forgotten from his mind, and you can’t quite tell if you’re devastated or relieved. You don’t have very long to discern which emotion you’re feeling when Hoseok snatches your phone to look at what’s gotten your attention before exclaiming suddenly, “Aha! See! What did I say?”
“It’s not like that,” You wave Hoseok off. “Jungkook treats me well. He respects me, and I’m comfortable with him.”
“And how long until whatever this is━” He gestures vaguely to your phone as if to point out your relationship with Jungkook, “has to end? Do you really think a pinky promise is going to make sure your friendship with him isn’t totally ruined? I mean, how can you continue being casual friends with someone, see them dating someone else, when they’ve had their dick in you?”
You know it makes sense. Realistically, you either stop sleeping with each other or it potentially develops into something more. But in both circumstances, what were the chances that either of you didn’t get your heart broken? Maybe a part of you was apprehensive of Jungkook finding the “right” person for him one day that has him ending things with you, and while you swear you’d be happy for him, relationships sometimes have a way of distracting people from those already around them. Were you prepared to have someone take him away from you, platonically and whatever it is else that you have with him? Did you really think you could just keep being friends with him, as if nothing ever occurred between you two?
You don’t think Jungkook is bothered worrying about the state of your friendship with him, much less overthinking it like you seem to be. It shouldn’t be a big deal ━ yet why was there still that terrible nagging voice in the back of your mind? Whether or not Hoseok is right, you don’t want to find out. You don’t have feelings for Jungkook anyway.
But your ability to bend at his every will is certainly interesting.
You grab your phone before Hoseok can do any serious damage like unlocking it and responding to Jungkook, clutching it to your chest as you start to cross the living room. The other boy looks at you in bewilderment. “Where are you going now?”
“Where does it look?” You call over your shoulder just before you disappear into the bathroom, and Hoseok deduces all at once that you’re truly a lost cause. “I need to send him a picture of my boobs.”
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“He’s totally into you, Y/N.”
Admittedly, there were many mundane but essentially weird things you’ve talked to Jungkook about while having sex. You’ve had many heated debates about everything under the sun from whether or not pineapple on pizza should be illegal to top five betrayals in either movies or animes, to passionate grand philosophical discussions about what exists outside of the universe.
It’s not as if you had been planning on talking about Yukhei to Jungkook when he had invited you over to his apartment late at night after sending your risqué boob picture to him but, like many things in your friendship with Jungkook, it sort of just happened. He had asked you how your day was and you had decided to broach the topic experimentally, though you think deep down you’re doing it on purpose to see if he’d react in any way. What started with you mentioning Hoseok’s adamance and you sort of genuinely asking Jungkook for advice on Yukhei somehow evolved into Jungkook interrogating you on whether or not you’ve hung out with him yet.
“Jungkook. You’re getting off topic,” You admonish him now, as if your own choice of topic is any better when his dick is currently in you.
Jungkook is wedged between your thighs smushed up against your chest, large palms holding you on your ribcage in place beneath him. He’s a comfortable heavy draped over top of you, cock stretching you wide. You can feel his heart hammering against yours and he’s slick with sweat, golden hair clinging to his forehead and in his pretty eyes. You resist the urge to reach out and brush the messy locks away but, again, how would that be any less intimate of an action than what you’re already doing? Another line uncrossed, you suppose.
“How am I off topic?” Jungkook retorts. “You literally just said you can’t tell if he’s into you but he dropped by when you were done class and bought you lunch. You don’t just do that for a girl you don’t care that much about.”
“You buy me lunch, like, every day,” You point out.
“Because you’re my best friend. Of course I care about you,” Jungkook says.
“Ah, Jungkook━” You curse suddenly, grabbing his attention when you shift your weight beneath him. “You’re crushing me. Why’d you stop moving?”
He doesn’t have an answer, if only because he hadn’t even realized he’d stop moving in the first place. Without hesitation, he continues leisurely rutting his hips against yours, grabbing at one of your legs to hook it around his waist. This new angle lets you feel even more of him as he sinks further into you, if that was even still possible, reaching so far into you that you swear it’s like you can feel him in your stomach. Your head lolls back against the pillows, pure euphoria contorting your face so much so to the point that it distracts you entirely from the distant look glazing over Jungkook’s eyes.
“Yukhei definitely wants to bang,” he huffs under his breath.
At once, an exasperated groan fills his ears.
“I can’t believe we’re seriously having this conversation right now,” You roll your eyes, fingers prodding at his sides. “I don’t wanna talk about Yukhei potentially wanting to have sex with me.”
Jungkook’s glad you said it, at least. Though now he’s watching you with hooded eyes as he thrusts into you a little harder, maybe a little intentionally. His indulgent gaze droops to your breasts, admiring the way they bounce beneath him each time his hips make contact with yours. He thinks back earlier in the day to the picture you had sent him which, really, had sparked the mood for the rest of the night.
“Fuck, you feel so good,” he whines abruptly. His eyes screw shut and brows furrow together as your walls clench around him. He drops his head to bury his face in your chest, lips momentarily wrapping around one of your nipples as he sucks harshly at the soft flesh. When he speaks next, forehead still resting against your collarbones, his voice is a breathless croak, “Well, do you like him?”
“No,” You moan. “Maybe━ Fuck, Koo━ I don’t know.”
“He’s gonna be at that party Tae’s throwing, isn’t he?” Jungkook tries to focus, but it’s becoming increasingly harder to do so when he’s inching closer and closer to his high. “Shit, ah, Y/N━ Why don’t you try talking to him or something? See how the night goes?”
“He’s nice but I don’t think he’s the one for me,” You admit sheepishly. “I think I’m just gonna end things while I still can, with as little harm as possible.”
“Well, glad that’s settled,” Jungkook mumbles. “Can we please stop talking about Yukhei now?”
You seem to miss the way he clings to you a little tighter, hands flying down to grip at your hips, nails digging crescent moon shapes into your skin. He snaps his hips into yours a little faster this time, your pussy throbbing around him.
“Nngh, Jungkook━”
Your hands fumble to grip at his hair, tugging tightly at the roots and earning a delightful hiss from the boy. Your own mouth drops open in a silent moan and it’s a wonder he doesn’t combust at just how sexy the sight is. He hates how his eyes stay trained on the shape of your lips, the soft plumpness of them. He’s felt them wrapped around his dick plenty of times before but he concedes that it’s probably hardly anywhere near to how it would feel to kiss you. Like actually kiss you, tongue and all.
God, what’d he give just to smother your lips with his.
And, god, he hopes you never find out. He’s positive that thought is far more scandalous alone than anything you’ve ever done together.
You’re writhing beneath him now, hips jutting forward desperately to meet his. “I’m gonna cum, Jungkook━”
“Fuck, yes,” Jungkook growls. “Wanna feel you cream around my cock so bad. Come on, baby━”
In the heat of the moment, you seem to miss the pet name that slurs off his tongue and the sentiment in it. A few more jolting slams of his hips and you’re tumbling over the edge. He has to sputter for air when he feels your pussy wrapping so tightly around him, stuttering in his pace above you if only to watch as you unravel beneath him. Hooded dark eyes glazed over in that perfect fucked out expression he loves so much, teeth biting at your lower lip so hard he wonders if it’ll bruise in the morning.
A sudden thought pops into his head when you’ve settled enough, amongst the blinding pure white of bliss that clouds his thoughts. “Did you get my text by the way? The one I sent last night?”
You gasp for air. The bracelet on your wrist itches at the mention of it, and you’re fortunate you decided to wear it that afternoon before coming to Jungkook’s. “Y-Yeah━”
“Well…?”
“Everything’s fine,” You say this as dismissively as you can. Your core is still vibrating after the harsh impact of your orgasm paired with Jungkook’s swollen length still in you. “I just… I was taking a shower and didn’t want to get it wet. I forgot to put it back on in the morning.”
That’s a lie. You had mostly taken it off as part of an experiment, though it hasn’t answered much. At least Jungkook doesn’t seem to realize that.
“Oh,” Jungkook breathes. A beat of silence passes, before he deadpans cockily, “Wait, you were taking a shower and I wasn’t invited?”
“Oh my god, shut up━” Maybe if he hadn’t just currently driven you to nirvana and back, you’d notice the way the sloppy grin on his face is a simple taunt. But you’re much too distracted to care. Instead, you use your leg that’s still hooked around his waist to gently push and roll him onto his back so that you can straddle his hips. His eyes sparkle mischievously as he watches you waste no time in hurrying to grind against him at an agonizingly steady pace that makes his head spin. “You’re ruining the moment. I’m trying to make you cum.”
A devious cackle rumbles from his chest, albeit a little contented at the same time. Yeah, he definitely likes the sound of that. “Well then, by all means, don’t let me stop you.”
It’s only then that his question comes back into your mind. If he felt the need to ask you again about the bracelet, maybe that meant something after all. At the very least, it means he hadn’t forgotten about it altogether. On the other hand, you wonder how often he had spent thinking, or over-thinking, the issue in the past twenty-four hours, if at all.
Was it wrong to feel some semblance of joy over that potential fact? Probably.
That doesn’t seem to bother you much this time. Not when he’s gazing up at you as if you’re some divine sexy goddess, all his to enjoy. You can’t help yourself; you reach down to brush the sweaty hair from his eyes, perhaps all too gentle of an action for best friends.
And he smiles, maybe a little too softly and maybe a little too ardently if you look close enough.
He smiles.
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The thing about your supposed “rules” with your relationship with Jungkook is that there might be a few loose ends that neither you nor Jungkook pay much attention to sometimes.
But that’s neither here nor there.
Mostly, the “no public displays of affection” clause is easily disregardable. It’s typically when you’re too drunk to remember it and a bit needy, craving one another’s touch, but those around you never truly seem to care or even notice because, if you’re lucky, they’re equally as smashed. Sometimes the “no cuddles” clause blurs into a gray area where it’s simply just you and Jungkook post-sex, sprawled out in his bed, not necessarily wrapped up in one another’s arms and cooing sweet nothings to one another but giggling at nothing in particular except one another as you bask in each other’s company and nothing more. You suppose some rules are meant to be broken.
For the most part, Jungkook never seems to question the no kissing rule you were so adamant in insisting. Not until one night in which you’re left wondering where things go so drastically wrong. It starts off as normally as any other day with you and Jungkook can, spent in his apartment binge watching movies. You hadn’t expected that night to switch as suddenly as it does when Jungkook shoots you a text earlier in the day asking if you want to come to his for a night of casual drinking as simply “best friends.” But, as always, one thing seems to lead to another, and you can’t get enough of Jungkook. Maybe it’s in the way he holds you a little tighter, the way he tugs you onto his lap on the sofa in his living room, the way he grips your thighs with a certain type of insatiable desire.
“You know…” he hums. “You drive me insane. In, like, the best way possible.”
Part of you realizes his actions even without him seeming to, and the drunken smile on your face remaining frozen in place, a little dumbfounded. “Jungkook…”
“When I’m with you…” He lifts his stare to look at you, but you have nothing to say. Neither does he. Instead, you’re left grinning at one another and suddenly your face is warm. He leans towards you, his nose nuzzling against the side of your throat. Your hands stay threaded in his hair now, and he swears he feels you secure your grip as if to pull him closer.
You can feel his lips brush faintly against your skin, grazing along your neck to the underside of your jaw. Up, up, up, until━
It’s just as his mouth meets with the corner of yours that you register what he’s doing, even in your clouded state. You turn your head just in time, and he comes to an immediate halt, his lips barely making contact with your cheek instead before he pulls away. He doesn’t move very far but you also don’t push him away just yet. Instead, you shift your head to look at him, still inches apart from him.
“What are you doing?” You ask. He can’t quite tell if you’re appalled or not, an empty expression staring back at him.
“I━ You━” He fumbles over his words, squeezes his eyes shut. He blames it on the alcohol even though his head is swimming with thoughts that seem to only concern you. But then a fierceness seems to stir within him, one that makes his jaw clench as he meets your stunned stare. The question rolls off his tongue without meaning to. “Is this about Yukhei?”
“What?”
“Is that why you weren’t wearing our bracelet the other day?”
The question is so ridiculous, you have to laugh. “What are you going on about?”
But Jungkook doesn’t see what’s so funny and so he tries again, his persistence taking hold. “Is that why you won’t ever let me kiss you?”
You blink. Then, you’re shaking your head at him. Exasperation hangs heavy in your words, shaping in the form of a tired scoff. “You’re not serious.”
You’ve slithered off of his lap before he can even think to stop you ━ but if he had, would you have even stayed? You’re mad, but he doesn’t know why. “No, I wanna know. Because if what we have is already so meaningless, what makes a kiss any different?”
“Jungkook…”
“So I wanna know,” he says, brows unconsciously knitting together. His gaze is searching yours desperately, as if begging for an answer he’ll want to hear. But he knows he’s being an idiot, a small sober part in him makes him realize that. “Humour me. Have you had sex with him yet?”
“Oh my god. I can’t believe that’s what you’re on about.” Suddenly, you’re frowning. Your hardened stare meets the boy’s and the irritation that scrunches at your face makes him wince, but it’s too late for him to take back the damage that he’s done. “Yeah, Jungkook, we fucked in his stupid Toyota that you hate so much and he choked me and I liked it. He did all sorts of dirty things to me. Is that what you want to hear?” The sardonic tone hisses at his ears, but he bites back his words, the sober part in him doing some decent good by shushing him. “No, Jungkook, we didn’t fuck. We haven’t even gone on a date, and I don’t even know if I want to, and you think I’m throwing myself at him.”
“But you wanna.”
“You’re being an idiot,” You admonish. “I’m going home. Talk to me when you’re sober.”
He has just enough time to watch you turn on your heel, march towards his door, when he scrambles to his feet. The weight of his words and actions finally seem to dawn on him, hitting him harshly in the face and in the heart.
“Fuck, wait! Wait━” he gasps.
He chases after you, hand reaching out to press his palm against the door before you can shimmy it open. He’s fortunate when you turn to look at him, though your arms are folded impatiently over your chest.
“You’re right. I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you mad,” he promises earnestly. Then, he lets out a frustrated groan. “I just… What if we… Shit, what if we stop for right now? Y’know… Hooking up. Whatever this is.”
He gestures vaguely between the two of you with his hands, a wearied look plastering his face.
You hate to admit how his words seem to affect you. They bite at the air, leave you breathless as you gawk at him, but the harsh realization of it all is that you were never his to have and he was never yours. Hoseok had been right when he said these things were bound to come to an end ━ so why did it seem to hurt you so much?
A beat of prolonged silence passes between the two of you. Jungkook runs a hand through his chaotic blonde hair, digging the heel of his palm into his temple as if to rid himself of a headache he’s no doubt sporting. Maybe you’re waiting for a better explanation, but he gives none, and you don’t feel as if you have the right to ask why. He’s not your boyfriend, for god’s sake. It’s not like he’s breaking your heart.
Instead, you take a deep breath and say, “Okay.”
“Okay.” It’s all that he says in return.
So then why does it feel like he is?
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When Jungkook had promised that if your fling with him ended you would go back to being untainted best friends, he was apparently lying.
A part of you can’t believe the sheer nerve of him to ghost you in his traditional fuckboy ways, and yet he does. You suppose not entirely, at the very least. Part of it ends up with you being even more vexed by his sudden shift in emotion, and the tangible tension that rises between the two of you should have been dealt with properly, yet neither of you do anything about it, leaving your friendship stagnant and stale for a week. After all, how are you really supposed to go back to “just friends” when you’ve seen his dick one too many times?
You refrain from telling Hoseok, if only so you don’t have to hear him tell you he told you so ━ but you also decide to give Yukhei that one chance, and so you think Hoseok wouldn’t mind so much anyway.
Admittedly, when Yukhei asks to hang with you at Taehyung’s eventual party, you aren’t entirely too keen, but you accept it if only because you heard Jungkook will be there too. For the majority of the night, you don’t see the boy, and you spend the hours cozying up with Yukhei in a conversation that dulls you. As it would appear, it seems to bore Yukhei too, but you only notice that when he starts touching you on your waist and the small of your back. There’s a moment where he leans his head close enough to yours that you realize he’s trying to kiss you, resulting in an awkward encounter in which you push him away, palms on his chest.
“What’s wrong?” he asks. The answer is obvious enough to you, but you don’t think you should tell him for his own dignity. That, instead, all you can imagine is Jungkook in his place. “Should we get out of here?”
“Y/N. Can I talk to you?”
You’re both fortunate yet horrified when you hear Jungkook’s voice. He’s standing just behind you, his own stare devoid of any emotion, though his brows furrow and his jaw clenches in a signature Jungkook manner that you know means he’s pissed. He hardly acknowledges Yukhei, nodding in his general direction. You don’t remember if you leave Yukhei there or if he leaves, or if Jungkook even gives a poor attempt of an excuse to the boy, but you’ve not so much as uttered a single word or let out an exhalation of air, when Jungkook ultimately pulls you off to the side where it’s just you and him once more.
“I’m not sucking your dick in Tae’s grimy bathroom, if that’s what you want,” You scowl once Yukhei is out of earshot. “You’ve lost the privilege that is my mouth.”
“That’s not━” Jungkook shakes his head, exasperated. “That’s not what I want. I just━ I’ll take you home. Please?”
You know the offer is much more than him simply walking you the route to your dorm, which you already know like the back of your hand. Yet, you don’t argue. Truthfully, it’s a relief when Jungkook lugs you out of the party. The entire venture back to your apartment is treacherous, in the way that you’re left sobering up enough to the point that your dizzying thoughts become more coherent. Hoseok is gone for the weekend at least, spending the days with his fiance, so you don’t have to worry about humiliating yourself in front of your roommate when it comes to Jungkook.
You’ve barely made it through your front door when you’re grumbling aloud, “What do you want, Jungkook?”
“I wanna talk,” he says firmly. “About us. About Yukhei.”
“Maybe I don’t want to.” But that’s a lie. Talking to Jungkook, even despite masquerading your annoyance for him, is a blessing in disguise. You’ve missed the idiot, and hearing his voice. “Besides, you told me to give him a chance.”
“And you said you didn’t want to.”
“Maybe I changed my mind.”
“Yeah, you sure seemed like you loved it when he was trying to shove his tongue down your throat,” Jungkook retorts bitterly. “C’mon, Y/N. We both know that’s a lie.”
“You know, you’ve been a real dick lately.”
A sliver of a smirk tugs at Jungkook’s face. “I thought you love dick.”
Clearly, his poor attempt at a joke doesn’t land well with you. “Why do you even care so much if Yukhei and I get together? Stop acting so high and mighty and moral, Jungkook. It’s not like you’re some virgin saint. How many times have I heard you talk about all those girls you’ve fucked? And what was I? Just another notch in your belt this whole time?”
“What?” Jungkook gasps now, as if disbelieving you would ever think such a thing. “No! You’re not just another notch. I would never even think about you that way. And I haven’t had sex with anyone else but you this whole time and I easily could have.”
“Wow! Such a martyr,” You remark dryly. When you speak next, you meet his stare with your own crestfallen gaze. “I just want my best friend back.” Your words hurt him more than you think, but he can’t say he doesn’t deserve it. “You’re the one who tried to kiss me, then suggested we stop whatever it is we’re doing━”
Jungkook flinches. “I know.”
“Then you ignore me for days even though you promised nothing would change━”
“I know,” he says desperately. He closes the distance between the two of you, yearning to reach out and touch you. Instead, he clamps his eyes shut, trying with all his might to focus when the room feels like it’s spinning.
“And then you get mad when Yukhei tries to make a move. It’s like you’re jealous or something!”
“I am.” He can’t take it anymore. The words tumble from his lips in a rush that he hardly bothers to bite back.
“Why?”
“Because━ Because━” He struggles to form his thoughts into words, stumbling over his sentence. Fuck, he’s never like this. Even you can tell. He grits his teeth next. “I lean in to kiss you and you look at me as if I’m out of my mind. I just don’t get it. You don’t want me to kiss you but you let me put my dick in your ass.”
The taut line of your lip quivers as you break. “That was one time and you didn’t even get all the way in!”
“Y/N.” Jungkook hums now. He’s gazing at you a little softly, reaching out to place his hands on your waist. “Look, I know I’ve been an idiot. But lately, when I touch you, I fucking feel so alive and the thought of Yukhei doing anything with you when it isn’t me, who should be with you, makes me want to vomit. And when I wake up in the morning alone, I only want you next to me. And I can’t be the only one feeling that way. If I am, tell me. Right now. Please. I just wanna know why you won’t ever let me kiss you, but you let me do all sorts of things with you. Am I really that repulsive?”
Another moment of silence stifles the room. Jungkook is so close to you now, you can’t help yourself. You reach up to tug at the collar of his shirt, fingers twisting in the material as you lean your forehead out of frustration against his shoulder and he instinctively lets his arms slither around your waist, holding you to him. Then━
“No.”
“What?”
“I only made the rule because I don’t want you to kiss me unless you mean it,” You murmur into his chest. “Like really, really mean it. Like I’m more than just a notch in your belt. Because I want to kiss you so badly, and I’m already in love with you but then I’ll really be in love with you and I don’t want to get my heart broken.”
The anticipation kills you, awaiting his response. You refuse to lift your head, until you hear him grumble, “You’re so fucking stupid.”
“Me?”
The retort is filled with your typical jestering hostility as you finally look at him. But just as you do so, Jungkook’s reaching out to grasp at your face, rough hands all soft and gentle as they cradle your cheeks, guiding you towards him and smoothing his lips over yours until you melt like putty in his hands.
Kissing Jungkook, you deduce at once, is not at all how you imagined it.
It’s everything and more. You’ve felt his mouth on you before but in much different circumstances. Between your legs, on your throat, down past the valley of your breasts ━ and each kiss then had been feral, sloppy, rough. Now, it’s sweet and tender, the feeling of his lips as soft as how he makes your heart feel. And the butterflies━ god, the butterflies.
Impatient hands tug and pull at one another until you’ve both stumbled into your room and onto your bed. He’s clambered over top of you, lips struggling to not part throughout the whole ordeal, until he’s wedged himself between your thighs.
Only then does Jungkook part from you just enough in the next moment, lips brushing against yours, as he whispers ardently, “I mean it.”
Then he’s kissing the corner of your lips down to the underside of your jaw, his mouth grazing along your skin in a feathery touch. His hands help you shed your shirt, and the bra underneath. “I mean it when I kiss you here.”
Then he drops his head to your neck, kissing at the base of your throat, before nipping at it lightly. “And here.”
Your hands come to thread in his hair, tugging at the roots. He burrows his face lastly in your chest, snatching the nipple of one of your breasts between his teeth. “Here…”
You’re so soft and supple beneath his hands, all his to love and explore.
“I want you, all of you,” he mumbles. “Only you.”
“Oh, Koo…”
A pretty moan tumbles from your mouth, and he could nearly cry. He had surely thought you were far past the point of enraged, far past the point of pensive words shaped in a heartfelt apology to bring you back to him. But then hearing you rasp his name ━ the little cute nickname that only you call him ━ makes him so goddamn remorseful.
He smothers your lips with his once more, groaning into your mouth. “I’m such a fucking dick. I don’t deserve you.”
“Don’t say that,” You whine.
“I’m sorry,” he laments. He bites at your lower lip, suckling against it. “Please let me make it up to you.”
“You already have.”
“But I’ve been such a shitty friend,” he groans. It’s hard to focus when he’s pressing his hips against yours, the forming bulge in his pants straining against the inside of your thigh. “I should’ve known when to stop. I shouldn’t have even suggested the whole thing in the first place, because then I wouldn’t have messed us all up.”
“Jungkook,” Your grip tightens in his hair. “Jungkook━ I want you so bad. Just wanna be yours.”
“Yeah?” His breath is warm as it fans against your neck. You rub your core eagerly against him, throbbing pussy so close to making contact with his dick.
“Yeah,” You mewl.
“What do you want from me?”
“You. Wanna feel your dick in me, please,” Your fingers tug at the top of his jeans, prodding at the muscles on his abdomen. “In my mouth. Can make you feel better, Koo, I promise. Just wanna be your good girl.”
“Mmm, I like the sound of that.”
He lets you push him until he’s on his back and you’re straddling his hips. Your limbs entangle with his as you shed the rest of your clothes, your own hands wandering up and down the front of his body after he’s tossed his shirt onto the floor. Then he watches as you shimmy your way down his body. You’re so zealous in pleasing him, wrapping your hand around the base of his dick, head angry and red, dribbling pearly beads of precum down the shaft and over the bulging vein that lines it. You run your thumb over the tip and down, spreading the sticky fluid over him. He grunts in response, nearly jolting at your touch, as his head drops back against his shoulders.
“Oh, fuck,” he growls.
You pump him slowly, taking you time as your closed fist glides up and down his length. He shudders each time your hand reaches the base, and becomes so carried away with your leisure teasing that his eyes are screwed shut and misses the way you dip down to kiss at the tip of his cock. His eyes immediately flutter open, a flustered expression painting his face. You lap again at the head, saltiness coating your tongue, and you let out a simpering moan that has him quivering. And when you wrap your mouth entirely around his cock, sinking down along his length, he swears he’s about to fall apart. Your eyes flicker upward to meet him and the moment they lock, so sexy and dark, he has to look away for fear of busting right then and there. He reclines back against the bed once more, his hand flying out to grab at your hair.
“You’re so good to me, baby,” he rasps.
He can feel the curve of your lips against his cock as you suck him off. You do so well, too. Puffing your cheeks out, taking as much of him as you can until it feels as if he’s hitting the back of your throat. Then, you’ll suck at the tip of his cock, tongue swirling rapidly around, as your fist rubs his shaft. It’s a beautiful mix, one that inches him closer and closer to his high, and each time you switch he has to hold it together to not let go so soon. He wants to enjoy it, needs to bask in it. Your pretty mouth doing such sinful things, making him feel as if he were in heaven.
“Shit━” His hips jut forward to meet with your mouth, accidentally hitting the back of your throat without warning. You gag a little, but don’t pull away, and when he apologizes to you hastily, you only moan in response. A thought pops into his head that has him beckon aloud, “Will you be a good girl and let me fuck your mouth? Huh, baby?”
You hum in approval, eyes shimmering with glee.
So, he plants both hands in your hair, grabs at the sides of your head, and as you hollow out your cheeks, he bucks into your mouth. He does it again and again, listening to your crescendoing mewls of delight, forming a sticky mess of drool and cum that spills onto your chin.
“God, you’re so good,” Jungkook grunts. He’s a complete wreck, eyes screwing shut, blonde tresses spilling into his lashes. The muscles in his abdomen twitch with each sharp inhale of air he takes, so mesmerized by the shape of your pretty mouth around his dick, like you were made for him. “Such a good girl, huh?”
He fucks himself into your mouth roughly, frantically. Tears start to prick at your eyes from holding your breath, yet you keep yourself together just a little longer for him, lashes fluttering shut tightly.
“All mine too,” Jungkook hisses. “Wouldn’t let Yukhei do this to you, would you? Fuck, I’m━”
With your head left immobile stuck in his grasp, you hum in disapproval instead. You know he’s close when you start to hear him panting breathily. When he cums, it’s with a fractured whine and in short hot bursts onto your tongue and down your throat. You swallow as much as you can and, when he parts from you with a resonating lewd pop, you wipe away with your knuckles at the rest of his cum leaking out of the corner of your mouth and onto your chin. Dark hooded eyes meet with yours, a mischievous glint captivating them. You crawl over to him, straddling his hips once more, chasing his mouth with yours. Your own lips are so wet, coated in saliva and cum, bruised plump, but yet you’re smiling so innocently past the way he can taste himself on his tongue.
A dazed thought pops into your head that has you murmuring wistfully against him, “Say it again. I like hearing you call me baby.”
“Hmm? What about when I call you my good girl?” Jungkook nips at your lips. He grasps at your waist, flipping you over until you’re on your back beneath him. “You treat me so well, baby; you’re my only girl, you know that.”
A contented sigh sounds from you as you rut your hips in thinning desperation to meet his, so close to rubbing against his dick nestled against his thigh. He licks at his fingers hastily, reaching between the two of you to press against your clit, rubbing leisurely at the soft bundle of nerves. He’s learned how to navigate your body after months of supposed emotionless fucking, but now? Now, he felt as if his heart may just burst through his chest. Every reaction you make to his every touch ━ the needy plea to have him make you his, call you baby ━ makes him want to see more, and more.
“Am I?” You ask hoarsely. He grasps at his dick, guiding his tip to your core, so slick and wet, glistening with your own arousal. As he pushes himself in with a hiss, he watches as you contort beneath him. “Nnngh, Jungkook━”
“Fuuck,” he groans. He sinks into you, spreading your thighs further and further apart, until his hips make contact with yours. His mouth attacks yours with a feverish passion, the rumble of his moans and your whimpers muffling against one another. Then, he remembers to answer your awaiting question, barely audible between the way his tongue lavs at yours. “You are. I’m so fucking in love with you. But I don’t deserve you.”
Your hands tug impatiently at his hair. “Stop saying that.”
“But it’s true,” he hums. He’s quick to start rutting at your hips in a steady yet agonizing pace, dick burrowing into your pussy as your walls throb and shake. He can’t help but watch, mesmerized as always by the way his length slips past your folds and disappears into you. Again, and again, and again, so lewdly destroying your pretty cunt. “Just want Yukhei to touch you all over instead, don’t you?”
“No,” You croak.
You spread your thighs instinctively wider apart, allowing him to sink even further into you until it feels as if he’s hitting you so far in your stomach. Each roll of his hips is punctuated by the crude noise of skin against skin, sending you spiralling.
“Want him to do all sorts of dirty things to you, huh?”
“N-No. Fuck, Jungkook━ Harder, please━”
“That’s what you said,” Jungkook retorts. Still, he listens to your pleas, snapping his hips into yours roughly enough to send you jolting back on the bed. His hands start to roam your body, pinching at your hips, then grasping ferociously at one of your breasts. “Want him to fuck you in his car, right?” His palm feels like fire as it slides up past your collarbones to your throat. “Want him to choke you.”
His hand comes to wrap around the underside of your jaw on your throat, thumb and index finger pressing against the pressure points there. He squeezes, though with barely any force, just enough to feel your rapid pulse beneath his digits in a way that makes you so suddenly hyper aware of everything he’s doing to you. Cock stretching you wide, palm heavy around your throat, mouth folding over yours. So caught up in the overwhelming sensations you’re feeling, you can’t tell if he’s genuinely upset with himself, though you suspect part of him is. You can sense it in the way he clings to you a little tighter, can see it laced within his dazzling pupils.
Jungkook huffs, hair flopping into his eyes as he grits his teeth and ruts his hips faster into you if only to see more of your pretty little reactions. Your jaw unhinges at the feeling, head falling back onto the pillows. “He could probably treat you nicer too.”
You shake your head wildly, fingers digging into the skin on his shoulders. “Just want you, Koo.”
“Still?” he asks. His grip on your neck fastens a little more, pure euphoria riddling all your senses and making you writhe beneath him. “God, you’re such a dumb little slut, aren’t you?”
You nod in your groggy exhaustion, the familiar burn coiling in your stomach, making your toes curl.
Jungkook feels your own high approach. Your walls are clenched so tightly around him, he has to sputter for air. “Could he make you feel like this?”
“No, Koo,” You whine. “Only you.”
“Yeah?” Jungkook growls. “Good girl. Gonna cum around my dick like the good little slut you are?”
Your hips ricochet upwards to meet his, relentless pounding into your core. “Please, please━”
Jungkook quickens his pace until you’ve deteriorated into absolute shambles, whimpering his name after each thrust. You tumble towards your high, cuming around his length as he burrows it into you again and again, and all he can think is mine, mine, mine. As you unravel beneath him, he slides his hand off of your throat and slithers it underneath you and around your waist, hoisting you slightly enough off the bed so that he can reach his own orgasm. He’s a little more frantic now, sloppy and restless as he pummels into you.
“Shit, baby━” he cries out. “Oh, fuck, you’re so good━”
As you come down from your high enough, you somehow manage to murmur drowsily, “Cum in me, Koo. Wanna feel it.”
You grab at his face, pulling him down to catch his lips on yours, and the thought is so tempting he can’t refuse. He gets so lost in your lips, cuming with one final slam of his hips into yours and a chorus of curses mingling with your name in whimpers. He rides out both of your highs with a few half-hearted thrusts, more concerned with kissing you in useless open-mouthed kisses as your own mouth parts with one last weary moan while he fills you up.
When he’s spent, he collapses against your chest, and you collapse onto the bed. It’s quiet long enough for the both of you to calm the shrill beat of your hearts when you feel Jungkook stir, moving to part from you, pulling his dick from your swollen pussy and planting a lingering peck on your cheek. He disappears momentarily but returns a few seconds later, towel in hand which he uses to wipe at your core now leaking with his cum and your heart croons at all his tender touches.
It makes you realize all at once that, god, yes, you’re so in love with your idiot best friend and he’s so in love with you.
“Jungkook.”
He turns to look at you, an adoring smile dancing upon his lips when he sees your own radiant beaming face. You beckon him over and he relents, letting you pull him into your arms. He nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck as he wraps his own arms around you to tug you closer to his side. As your fingers come to rake through his sweaty hair, he cranes his neck to follow your hand and hear him coo against your neck, “That feels so good.”
A sudden thought crosses your mind that has you smirking smally to yourself. “Are we… Are we cuddling? Jungkook, I thought you didn’t like cuddling. Said it was, and I quote, sentimental bullshit.”
“I never liked it because it wasn’t with you. Didn’t wanna waste my time on someone that wasn’t you,” Jungkook hums, matter-of-fact. You can tell he’s a little embarrassed at the way you so casually taunt him about such an obvious fact, though he’s fortunate you can’t see him smiling like a complete fool. “And I wanna do all that sentimental bullshit with only you. Now, shush━” He scolds you playfully. “M’so tired and I just wanna hold you tight.”
“Can’t argue with that.” Your heart leaps in your chest. “Just promise me one thing?”
It’s only then that he lifts his sleepy gaze to find yours, apprehensive of any potentially looming severity in your words. “Anything.”
Instead, all he can find is the way you trace your finger along the details of his face, from his nose, to his cheekbones, down to the freckle under his lip with the hand that sports your friendship bracelet. “In the morning, when we wake up, you’ll still be here to hold me tight. And every other morning after that.”
His smile widens even more, if that was even possible. “Wouldn’t want it any other way. But━”
“But?”
“On one condition.”
“What’s that?”
His eyes sparkle cheekily. “Kiss me.”
So, you do, again and again and again; and Jungkook thinks, yeah, he certainly can get used to this.
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It takes you a month to cave in to Jungkook’s incessant pleas to fuck you to his sex playlist. You do it mostly to humour him, though part of you is a little bit intrigued at the thought.
Stowed away in his room, he eats you out to the choruses of sultry The Weeknd and raunchy Ariana Grande songs, fucks you to the likes of the Neighbourhood and Kim Petras while you’re on all fours, and you’re only half-paying attention to the music until you hear it. Admittedly, you almost completely miss it but you blame Jungkook and the way he’s making you currently feel, sprawled out beneath him, chests pressed flush against one another in a sweaty, sticky mess, breathy and glorious moans of your name filling your ears when━
“I had no choice but to hear you. You stated your case time and again━”
The dulcet chime of Alanis Morissette thrums about the room, a complete and utter shift in contrast in the atmosphere that has you immediately pausing.
“Jungkook.” But he knows what you set out to say even before you do, judging by the tone in your voice and the stifling smirk on his face. You gawk at him, biting at your lip to hide your laughter but you fail miserably. “You weren’t joking?”
He shrugs innocently, leaving you just as dumbfounded as you were two seconds ago. Instead, he says, “Gotta do what I promised then, don’t I?”
You quirk a brow. “What was that exactly?”
“Gotta give you the best orgasm of your life.”
“If you can do that to cheesy 90s pop, I’ll have your actual babies, Jungkook.” The effort is endearing and impressive, to say the least.
A roll of your eyes is met with a taunting roll of his hips into yours that wipes the jest off your face immediately. He grins like a madman, uttering a little stupidly, and a little ardently, “Say no more.”
Because, all things considered and joking aside, he wants it with you ━ the dazed daydreamy talk of a future together and kids, friendship bracelets, and cuddles in the morning. Because you mean the world to him and more. Because you’re his best friend, and he’s so madly in love with you.
Because he wants it all with you.
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empress-simps · 3 years
Note
Hi I saw your post about haikyuu and you taking request, can I request an angst to fluff poly with kuroo and kenma, where kuroo and reader are dating and kenma really like reader so he confess then there's fluff,,,,, if you're not comfortable that's ok, thank you tho!
Ack im so excited for this- THANKS FOR REQUESTING! This is also my first ever poly fic and it might be a pretty long one since I kinda got carried away oop- I hope this is what you had in mind!👉👈
Idiot
Kenma x Gn!Reader x Kuroo (Poly)
Warnings: Angst with a fluff at the end to make up for it
Synopsis: Kenma tried to hide his feelings as he saw the two people he cares about is dating one another, but his pent up feelings made itself known.
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"Tetsuroo!"
Kenma heard your voice echoing through the gym, he was just about to warm up as he puts his switch in his bag when he felt your presence.
"How many times have I told you to take a break!? You're sick!" You scolded their Captain, already changed from your uniformq into the Nekoma Volleyball Club's tracksuit as you pulled him by the ear.
"Im fine! I can totally play! Kenma tell Y/n!" He shouted for his friend, desperately trying to participate in the club activities.
Kenma couldn't really focus on what his friend was saying as his eyes were transfixed to you, taking in your features and just basking in your presence. All he managed to muster up is a nod and hum.
You sighed, shaking your head "Go home. Don't drag Kenma in this. I want you to rest, the sooner you get better the sooner you can play volleyball. Understand?" You spoke, voice laced with authority as you being their manager kicked in.
"Ughh, im so jealouuus! I want someone to care for me like that too!" Yamamoto sighed as they all looked at yours and kuroo's bantering frame. "Seeing how sweet they are makes me wanna throw up." He added as they saw their captain trying to woo you into making him play.
"Then who's gonna take you home? Just come with me-" Kuroo persisted but you just merely cut him off. "No. I'm not here just as your s/o but also the manager for the team. I need to perform my managerial duties as well as check up on them too, you know. I'll just go home with Kenma." You said, still not backing down. The entire Nekoma team still watching you both. Kuroo let out a huff and raised his hands. "Fine fine.. you win.." he grumbles as he grabs his bag.
You shot him a cute smile and waved as he left the gymnasium, "Love you tooo!" Once you made sure he already left, you turned towards what was left of the Nekoma Team.
"Now, have you all finished doing your warm- ups?"
Volleyball practice has come to an end as you found yourself walking alongside Kenma who was busy playing a game. The sound effects of the game fills the deafening silence between you two.
You glanced over him, taking in his features while he was completely unaware. Too focused in his game to even care about his surroundings, you sometimes even have to pull him when he was getting dangerously close to the lamp post or was about to trip over something.
Unbeknowst to you, Kenma was far from being focused. His mind was in shambles, thoughts darting back and forth in his head making him loose focus and actually getting defeated in the game. He tried his best to calm his nerves by gripping on his nintendo switch as he weighed the pros and cons if he was going to confess to you right now.
"Uh.. Y/n".
He called out softly, his eyes widened slightly. He was not meant to say that out loud. You stopped humming as you turned to your side "What is it Kenma?"
Kenma's eyes darting back and forth at his surroundings, trying to find the words to say as his voice got caught in his throat. You looked at him more closely, leaning to observe his features. "Kenma.. are you okay?" You said worriedly, putting a hand on the underside of his jaw to check the temperature.
Before Kenma could even stop himself, those words that he wants to tell you throughout the years you've known each other made it's way out of his mouth.
"I like you a lot."
It was like time has stopped, your hands went stiff as your eyes widened, you tried to play off your iitial shock with a laugh "Kenma, you wouldn't have stuck by me and tetsu's side if you didn't like us." You teased, trying to ease the akward tension between you.
"No, I love you."
At this point, Kenma wants to bash his head against a concrete wall. Since when did he ever got the balls to be bold?
Your hand found its way to your sides as your mouth opened and closed, trying to find the words to say, meanwhile he just stared at the luminescent light his game was giving off.
"Kenma..."
You started, unsure of what to say to the setter "I-i didn't know you felt that way.." You said softly, the feelings you had for him that is tucked away slowly resurfacing.
"It's fine.. You're dating Kuroo anyways.. I just.. felt the need to get it out of my chest." He waved it off, trying to act indifferent about it but what you didn't know was his heart was shattering as the uncomfortable silence grew between you both..
You took in a sharp breath as you stared up at the sky, trying to find the word to say between the setter and you. "Does Kuroo know about this?" You asked him, still looking up and avoiding his gaze.
You can't fall for him again, you already have the most caring and amazing boyfriend that happens to be his bestfriend.
"No. I don't know what will happen if I ever told him.." His voice growing softer by second, you finally grabbed his shoulders and looked at him.
"Kenma.. I don't want things changing between us, you already know im dating Kuroo and.. you're a great friend. I love you to bits okay?"
Kenma looked down as he tried to hide his tears, the words displayed on the device mocking him.
Defeat.
You sat in your bed, on the phone with Kuroo.
"Kenma.. He said something to me earlier." You started as you heard the shuffling of sheets from the other line. "And that is?" He asked a bit intrigued.
"He said he liked me." You dropped the bomb on the unsuspecting Kuroo, the line went silent for a few seconds before he spoke up. "You told me you liked him right?"
You looked down as you fiddled with the hem of your shirt, "Yes." . Kuroo asked again, "Do you still have feelings for him?" You sighed "Tetsuroo.. I'm dating you now-"
"Just answer me."
The three of you grew up in the same neighbourhood, you became bestfriends with both and initially fell for Kenma. You didn't plan to tell anyone but Kuroo found out and pratically forced you to spill. A few years later you began dating Kuroo, him confessing and you accepting it. You thought your feelings for Kenma were long gone but here you are, back to square one.
"I thought I got over it.. but it resurfaced.." You mumbled, tearing up and hoping that a fight wouldn't ensue.
Kuroo sighed, "Okay."
You looked at your phone then pressed it up again on your ear. "Okay what?" Your voice laced with a little bit of panic.
"Okay."
"What do you mean okay Kuroo Tetsuroo!?" You asked him frantically, afraid he was going to end it with you over the phone.
"I just need time to think." He said as the line went dead. You dropped your phone beside your bed as you let a few tears fall.
The next few days had been rough, Kuroo wouldn't answer your calls and avoided you as you have been trying to avoid Kenma who is in the same class as you.
"Still not okay Y/n-chan?" Yaku walked alongside you as he checked over you. You sighed as you shook your head, eyes puffy from crying sessions you partake in the evening
"Kuroo didn't broke up with you over the phone did he? I'll wrangle hi-"
"I didn't, no reason to beat me up." The voice you know all too well spoked up as your posture stiffened, not looking back.
You felt him grab your wrist and lead you outside "Let's talk." Your breath hitched as you saw Kenma outside, by the looks of it, he was waiting for you and kuroo to show up.
"Now that we're all here, let's make things clear." Kuroo started, "Kenma and I have talked about it. Don't worry, we didn't fight or somethibg like that." He chuckled
"Since you both like us we came up with a solution.." Kenma said softly, eyes still not meeting yours. You kinda felt guilty for avoidibg him.
"Why don't you date both of us?" Kuroo asked, his hands finding it's way to Kenma's which definetly didn't go unnoticed by you.
"Do you guys like each other..?" You asked, still looking at their intertwined hands. "Yea, we talked about it and realized our feelings." Kuroo said as he held your haid and waited for a reaction.
You smiled and squeezed his hand "Good. I don't think I can date you both knowing you'll probably compete over my gorgeus self."
Kuroo laughed while Kenma has a small smile on his face "Kenma.. I'm sorry for ignoring you for the past days..please forgive me?" You asked, taking his hands to yours. What you didn't expect was a light kiss on the cheek, "I think you know the answer."
"Oya? What about me?" Kuroo pouted, asking for a kiss, Kenma complied but you just ran away, laughter echoing in the now empty halls.
"Y/n my kisseeeees!" Kuroo yelled after you, as you relentlessly teased him while running.
Kenma looked at his boyfriend and s/o while sighing, a small smile plastered on his face. What a bunch of idiots.
His idiots.
>> Nekoma Masterlist
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bigskydreaming · 3 years
Text
Okay, long time followers will probably remember having read this, but I can’t find the original post and I’m trying to like.....force-reboot/jumpstart me working on my ‘Kings of the Sky’ AU again because I haven’t touched it in awhile and I have like literally eight different installments in various stages of completion and that’s ridiculous even for me. So here’s a repost of the first part of “Teachable Moments” the canon-divergence point of that AU series, where Jason calls Dick for advice after the Garzonas case and everything changes from there.
******
The way Jason Todd warily eyed the device in his hand, one might think it was an instrument of great and terrible destructive power, rather than just…his own personal cell-phone.
To be fair, he was Robin, and pretty used to the idea that even the most unlikely of things could be used for evil in Gotham. It could’ve been stolen and replaced at some point by a henchperson of Mr. Freeze, and using it could unleash some kind of cryogenic freeze ray that would turn him into a Robinsicle. Mad Hatter could be up to shit again, and dialing the phone at this very minute might mean syncing it up with a remote radio signal that would override his natural brainwaves and turn him into Tetch’s mindless minion of like…doom and stuff. Or…or…
Or sometimes, even in Gotham a phone is just a phone, and Freud is still a dumbass. And neither of the above possibilities had anything to do with why Jason was being a giant freaking pansy about entering the last digit of the phone number he would never ever admit to having had memorized for months now.
Nightwing had said to call if he ever needed to talk. He wouldn’t have done that if he didn’t actually want Jason to call, right? Like, its not as if Jason had remotely been expecting him to do that, so its not the sort of thing someone did just because it was ‘expected’ or shit. He was pretty sure. Rich people manners were weird though. Had to factor that in.
But Nightwing had also even made a point to say not talking to people about stuff was Bruce’s problem and that Jason shouldn’t let it be his problem too, and even though months ago Jason had been a starry-eyed dumbass who was totally drunk on the Bruce is the Bestest Kool-Aid or whatever, ‘Wing had definitely known what he was talking about there. So maybe he’d get it, and having this conversation with him wouldn’t be. Like. The actual worst idea in the history of ever.
Deductive logic said that Jason was getting worked up over nothing and there was no rational reason for him to be this nervous about dialing a fucking phone number. And he’d gotten pretty good at the whole deduction shit, given all the work he and Bruce had put into training his mind to view the world through entirely new paradigms, so Jason was pretty sure his math on that checked out. But on the other hand, Bruce was a hypocritical asshat that Jason was currently not speaking to, so what the fuck did he know about anything?
Aaaaand he was back to square one. Well damn. This was excellent. Very productive. Good hustle out there, Jay.
Sighing gustily, Jason flopped back on his bed, staring up at the ceiling and trying to pretend he hadn’t gotten used to how luxurious and cushion-y his ridiculously expensive mattress was. He’d gotten soft, he told himself. Then he scoffed at the idea that the past year and a half of rigorous Robin training and patrols had made him less tough than the pipsqueak he’d been back when living on the street, getting his ass kicked by bigger and badder on the regular. That hadn’t been hardness, that had been bravado.
But it had gotten him this far in life, so maybe there was something to be said for it after all?
Ugh. Decisions were hard. He objected on principle. He also really wanted to understand why he was this nervous…if he could literally fill the guy’s shoes and kick supervillain ass as Robin, what freaking sense did it make that he couldn’t even call him up on the phone?
Maybe you just know better than to ask him questions you don’t really want to hear his answer to, a smug voice said in the back of his mind. It sounded suspiciously like Willis Todd, which was all kinds of weird and fucked up, cuz Jason was damn sure his abusive a-hole of a deadbeat dad had never said anything that insightful in his life.
Which meant it was his own screwed up subconscious - presenting in the voice of his not so dearly departed douchebag dad, no less - that had Jason reacting out of spite, entering the last number and hitting Talk, all while totally on autopilot. Because apparently we’re all making healthy life choices in this Chili’s tonight, Jason snickered somewhat hysterically while his phone rang once, twice, three times.
Ugh. Was he always this fucked up in the head and he just never noticed, or was it a side effect of running around rooftops in a cape. Inquiring minds wanted to know.
“Hello?” Someone said then, answering on the fourth ring. Jason sat bolt upright, his nervous humor vanishing as quickly and unexpectedly as it’d hijacked him in the first place. For all that he’d only actually interacted with the older man a few times, his voice was instantly recognizable. As was his slight confusion.
Right. Because why would Nightwing have the untraceable number of the latest burner phone Bruce had given Jason, when the ever paranoid Bat had him swapping out phones every freaking week? Duh, Jay.
“Uh, its me,” Jason said hastily, as if he could somehow catch up to and overtake the epically long ten second silence he let lapse before his mouth started making words again. “Jason?”
“Jaybird! Hey! What’s going on?” The older vigilante’s tone instantly morphed into one of surprised delight, so apparent even across the phone that Jason actually pulled it away from his ear and stared at it, as if that could explain Nightwing’s inexplicable giddiness. He’d literally only met the dude three times. Give or take a concussion he was forgetting about maybe? Weird.
Then again, the older man was a circus performer from birth. Might just be good at faking being super excited to hear from people? Whatever. Still weird.
“Uh, you said to call if I was ever having, I dunno, issues with Bruce I guess? So I kinda had a question? I mean, if you’re not busy or anything.”
Just one question? Willis’ voice asked snidely, echoing in time with the rapid tripartite beat of Jason’s heart. Since apparently everything Jason said was trying to come out with a question mark attached to the end of it at the moment. Ugh, fuck you, subconscious, Jason thought forcefully, even as he ransacked the recesses of his mind for that bravado he was thinking about earlier. It had to be in here somewhere…
“No worries dude, I’ve got time. Hit me!” Nightwing said cheerfully. His lighthearted cadences were so at odds with the sweat suddenly breaking out on Jason’s forehead, the younger teen couldn’t help but wince in anticipation of its inevitable change once he got his actual question out. This was a bad idea, he decided, way too fucking late for it to make a difference. He had a hunch Nightwing wouldn’t be content to ‘just forget it’ or whatever even if Jason chickened out now.
So he took a deep breath, shrugged and did what Jason Todd did best. Said fuck it, put pedal to the metal, and drove at full speed for the metaphorical police barricade that was his way of picturing all the things telling him He Should Definitely Just Not.
“Do you think I’m someone who could kill somebody in like, cold blood?”
Aaaaand there went the lightheartedness. Well, he’d definitely stone cold killed that, Jason thought grimly into the silence that followed.
“Huh,” Nightwing said at last. “You’re gonna have to give me a second to switch gears here, Jay. I was kinda expecting something along the lines of ‘how do I avoid Bruce giving me the safe sex talk.’”
Jason flushed and nodded jerkily, not that the older man could see it. Still, it’d been enough of a workout just getting to this point. He didn’t trust what might come out of his mouth next if he kept trying to force it. Thankfully Nightwing didn’t make him wait too long before continuing.
“I think anyone’s capable of killing somebody in the right circumstances,” Jason’s predecessor began carefully. Except that was not remotely what he wanted to hear. Or helpful.
“I’m not looking for platitudes,” Jason grit out, not angry at the other vigilante so much as the whole fucked up mess and his inability to think about anything else at this point. “It’s just a simple fucking question. You’ve met me, do you think like, I’d be capable of just killing somebody or not.”
“I’m not offering platitudes,” Nightwing continued calmly, as if he wasn’t phased by the younger boy’s interruption or sudden aggression at all. “And its not a simple question at all. Speaking from experience, most people wouldn’t think of an eight year old as a cold-blooded killer, but that’s what I could have been if Bruce hadn’t stopped me from killing my parents’ murderer when I first tracked him down. And yet that’s still totally different from when I held a gun on Two-Face barely a couple years later, about to shoot him because somebody else told me to, and because I wanted to hurt him like he’d hurt me. Wouldn’t you agree those are two different situations and two different ‘kinds’ of cold-blooded killer? Context is kinda a big deal here.”
Huh. First off…what the fuck? Jason stared blankly up at the ceiling, trying to hurry up the processing functions of his brain because, again, what the fuck? He was like ninety nine percent positive none of that had been in the Dick Grayson Is The Greatest and Here Are All The Reasons Why brochure he’d had read to him every time someone new found out he was Wayne’s newest stray, and like. Uh. Yeah, that part would have definitely stood out. Because once more, with feeling:
“What the fuck?”
Oops. That hadn’t been supposed to be out loud. Bad mouth. Bad.
Nightwing just did a weird kinda half laugh half sigh combo. Rueful, Jason would describe it, if he were describing it to someone else, which it kind of felt like he was, relaying the conversation to himself now that it’d taken a hard right turn into the surreal.
“Blindsided you with that, huh? Sorry, should’ve figured neither of those are the kinda stories Bruce would want to share with you. Then again, I don’t really have any idea what Bruce has told you about me.”
“Not much,” Jason admitted. Which was a major source of irritation, if he was being honest. The much sung praises of Dick Grayson came from literally everyone he met except for Bruce. Who usually just got a pinched expression whenever Jason brought him up, and a rapid subject change that was not nearly as subtle as Bruce seemed to think it was.
“Yeah, that sounds about right,” Nightwing sighed. “I hope you haven’t put too much stock in anything else you’ve heard about me then. I’ll admit to a bad habit of enjoying my mystique, so secondhand hearsay tends to lose my best nuances.”
Despite himself, Jason’s lips curved up and he let out a rueful huff of his own. “I mean, this definitely isn’t where I saw this conversation going.”
The older man chuckled. “Thought I was going to just assume the worst and chuck the book at you?”
“Well. Yeah.” Jason shrugged, even though he knew it wouldn’t come across. “Bruce did.”
Nightwing heaved an exasperated breath. “Yeah, that’s kinda the thing about B. Sometimes, he’s great. Other times, he’s an ass. Its kinda an either or thing. He’s never really mastered the art of finding a midpoint between two extremes. Mostly because he’s never seen the point of aiming for middle ground.”
“Well its not like he’s ever really had to,” Jason griped. It just slipped out before he could stop it, leaving him feeling guilty for bad-mouthing B when he wasn’t around to defend himself. Especially since he knew Nightwing wasn’t the guy’s biggest fan these days. But he couldn’t deny it also felt good, in a way.
To his surprise, Nightwing just laughed. And not even in a malicious, spiteful kind of way, but almost relieved.
“God, thank you. You’d think that ‘hey, so my billionaire guardian kinda has entitlement issues’ would be a water is wet kind of revelation, but try saying something like that to pretty much anyone else…”
“And they look at you like you’re an ungrateful asshole?” Jason finished for him. Not that he’d ever actually tried saying that to anyone before, though he’d definitely thought it a time or two. But he could all too easily imagine the reactions he’d get, which was pretty much why he’d never gone so far as to speak the words.
“Yup,” Nightwing drawled, dragging out the p and popping it with emphasis. “And its not about being grateful or not, its just…there are some parts of everyone that just aren’t up for grabs, for other people to weigh in on or take charge of, you know? And a lot of people just don’t get that…because nobody’s ever tried it with them, or had to deal with expectations that…overstep, let’s call it?”
“Is that why you left?”
Jason winced the second it left his mouth. Too far. Definitely way too far, but he’d just gotten unexpectedly comfortable with the back and forth, and now he’d done the overstepping thing himself and was left with just dead air.
But ten seconds of heavy silence stretched into twenty, and went no further, as Nightwing sighed into his side of the phone again.
“The spiteful part of me wants to say it was more of a push than me just up and leaving,” he laughed again, but this time with unmistakable bitterness. “But even while that’s true, its not really the right answer to your question, because no matter how much of a clusterfuck that was at the time, its not…I mean, I knew at the time how to fix it. Where and how I needed to cave in order to make up with him and let things get back not quite to normal, but at least close enough.”
The pause wasn’t as heavy or tense this time, as Jason could almost sense the older man gathering his thoughts, trying to put them into words. He bit his lip rather than risk any more unexpected utterances escaping. This might not have been where he’d thought his phone call would lead, but now that he was here, hearing the answers to questions he’d wanted to ask for over a year and finding them almost comfortably familiar, he wasn’t going to risk distracting Nightwing or shutting him up for well. Anything.
“But it would have meant me caving. Settling in ways that I just…couldn’t. So in a way, yeah, I did leave, it was still my choice. And all of that was definitely a big part of it. I love Bruce, I do. I just couldn’t live with him anymore. Not without feeling like I had to give up my own autonomy and just be what he wanted. Or what he’d expected me to grow up to be, back when he first took me in. And as grateful as I am to him for that, I can’t honestly say I would have stuck around back then if I knew that was the price tag attached. I’m not…I don’t do well with people trying to force me to stick to one place, one thing. I was born on the road, you know? When I was a kid, I expected to spend the rest of my life living like that. Home was people. Not places. And so Gotham…its never fit me quite right, the way it does him, or even Barbara. Its not like I was miserable there, its just.”
“It wouldn’t have been your first choice,” Jason finished again, quietly. There was silence again for awhile.
“No. No, it wouldn’t have been. Not then.”
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G1 Hoarder Revamp and the Mountain of Salt
Can we all just acknowledge how much of a total fuck up the new G1 ping system is? I feel bad because they obviously went through so much work and beta testing for this system but it’s absolutely garbage in practice. This isn’t meant as a huge roast (even though I do think the creators could do with getting knocked down a few pegs given how poorly they’ve treated people through this entire process, oops) but I hope they at least see this and see things that they can work on. Obviously, going to them and sharing this stuff in person isn’t possible since L from arcane is notorious for gossiping and overall not super trustworthy, so anon route we go. I’ll give credit where credit is due: they definitely tried to go on the right path and the coding is good in theory. The big issue here is that they tried to fix something that was not great but worked with something that is not great and barely works. Sure there are some good things about the new ping system: if it’s not busy it’s not longer than six or seven minutes to do all of it for a few dragons, which, compared to the previous method? Pretty good timing. Helps automatically tag some colorgroups without having people confused about if their dragon counts or not, and uh... probably something else. The cons far outweigh the pros though: -sheet can only be used one at a time: terrible in theory, terrible in practice, there’s no queue system either so you’re not even guaranteed to go next even if you’ve been waiting ages. This becomes a nightmare around any holiday, as we’ve seen around notn, since everyone flocks to the ping generator and then quickly abandons after seeing the mess there. This should have been something that they found a way to work with from the start, especially since the previous spreadsheet, despite how long it took to sift through if you were actually assed to do all the specifics, could still be used by multiple people. -userface issues: going into the spreadsheet and it may all just be blank, does this mean someone’s using it? Someone isn’t? If you go ahead and assume not you’re going to get warned that you overrode someone since they get the ID to your dragon, if you don’t assume then you end up waiting for ages like an idiot and someone else swoops up the opportunity. The loading bar on the side doesn’t help give that info either since it constantly reloads due to the poorly planned code. Where users have their cells selected also doesn’t help since that isn’t always accurate. There are many times where the loading bar isn’t seen going, there isn’t any visible text on the screen, no comment in the box, but it’s still in use. This isn’t viable for anyone, especially not people who don’t fully understand how the system works. If you’re going to make it for only one person’s use at a time, you need to ensure it’s easier to see what’s going on for everyone. -laggy as all get out: sure, I don’t have to go through 15 pages of different types of pings on the old G1 pinglist and shovel through all the duplicates and specifics list people, but having more than 13 dragons or even doing a bigger lair sale (or even just anything during notn) means you get to wait for the program to chug away for ages (as well as the easy chance for someone to just cut in halfway through a load and have you start all over again or wait) and hope that the three people behind you don’t get impatient or angry as you have to do three separate input sessions rather than massing them all together as you could with the previous spreadsheet. -poorly designed aesthetically: maybe this may sound petty to some, but the design of the system is pretty terrible in terms of layout and color choice. This isn’t to say it’s just ugly though; after speaking about it with people who aren’t neurotypical, have disordered thinking processes, and/or have generalized issues reading things (autism spectrum, dyslexia, semi-visually impaired, etc.) it’s pretty clear that the entire thing is not accessible whatsoever for anyone who can’t immediately decipher what anything is. Black text on bright red is not a good thing for most people beyond old MySpace edgies. If you, as someone without reading or comprehension difficulties, are having a difficult time focusing on it: maybe consider how difficult it’d be for anyone else. The way the rules or tutorial section is laid out also does not help in terms of accessibility! It’s clunky and hard to read, does not flow well, and doesn’t explain as thoroughly as you may think. If you’re someone who uses coded spreadsheets often? Yeah sure, it might be understood. If you’re not? Welp. Good luck kiddo. -very poor user help: this is on the mods or creators more than the spreadsheet itself. If someone has a problem, the first thing you should do is talk with them to find the difficulty and tackle it from there. I’ve seen, multiple times now, where either N (plague) or L (arcane) straight up tell people that they can’t help them and that they should just read the guide on the front page. Like sure, they read them, but something is tricky for them and they’re asking for help. They can read the rules and guide again but without outside help, guess what? Not gonna help them. If you just keep linking them the forum or telling them to read the first page it won’t actually help anyone! One of your jobs as the creators here is to help the community that you made it for, not just parrot that they need to read. Be better. Add that to a system which is not forgiving of any mistakes whatsoever and it becomes a terrible little cocktail. Also does not help that, despite their sugar attitude about having people test it in discord servers, the creators l and r/p (both arcane) don’t actually help people who need help using it. -wait times/queue: this ties in to an earlier point, but there’s no way to organize who goes next. Sure, it might sound strange, but when you have to wait ages to get access despite you being there ahead of anon llama/drama/dingdong/animal because they can all hop in ahead of you, it becomes frustrating. People don’t always type in that itty bitty box to say what they’re doing, and people easily erase it or write over it, or they just outright ignore it. Obviously not everyone is going to do that, but it’s way too easy for people who are greedy/entitled to step over those who are being polite and patient. -no quick ping options this is also kind of minor, but at least with the old spreadsheet you could just click in and say “okay, I just want to ping XXY general for this because I have a quick sale.” Guess what: nah. You have to go through the entire chugging process and queue and everything else just to get that snippet of information on who to ping. What once took maybe five clicks is now five minutes to thirty depending on how many people are using it. Wanna quick check if a dragon with XYZ colours you hatched is one that someone wants specifically? Nah, fuck you. You have to input all the data and wait instead of just doing what was once a super easy quick search. There is so much other shit wrong with this system and I’m honestly surprised N (plague) allowed them to do this. Sure, the old pinglist could have done with some updating, but that should have been done in the form of clearing redundant double pings, maybe a way to sort through specifics like ‘male only’ and mass copy names there. Quality of life things, not this just... total mess. I understand that L and R/P got it into their heads that they needed to fix it and that they wanted to take over the entire system themselves, but they should have kept their pride out of it for once. The sheet to input what dragons you want is also another entire nightmare. It’s frustrating to go through the google poll a dozen times to say exactly what colors/eyes/gender/pasta-shape/siesta-fiesta under the sun you want rather than have a quick way to input it by drop-downs or even just a text based option like the old one had. It’s so easy to forget what you put in or which one you want to put in this time, so easy to end up making mistakes that you don’t see, etc. It’s just not an effective system. It’s great in theory, and sure, it’s all sparkly and new, but it’s like admiring an aluminum trash can. Shiny and sparkly under the sun, still holding a whole lot of hot garbage though. I understand that some people may find it easier, and that’s great! I’ve used it for a few things and yeah, it’s okay, but I wish the old one was back given all the grief and frustration this one has caused. Obviously I’m not in the place to be like DO THIS OR DO THAT since I’m not the one making the sheet here, but I do feel like the people who use it have every right to give commentary and feedback where possible. Even moreso when the creators and team aren’t actually as welcoming as they try to appear to be. As much as it sucks, a lot of L and R/P’s (primarily L) false niceties have kind of come to the surface lately which makes this whole situation just that much more awkward. If people don’t feel like they can approach you because they know you’ll rip into them here or on the anon site immediately, maybe you shouldn’t be a main creator of something for the user base or a mod for a bigger group. Just some side-thought to all this other stuff. Big post, big rambles, I can’t bring myself to organise it though because I’m pretty fed up and tired. Take from this what you may, but basically fix your shit new G1 Hoarder peeps.
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reineyday · 4 years
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geraskier zoom conference hc's based on that 'and they were video conferencing' post
(this has turned into a fic in point-form oops; also it's more pre-slash 'cuz this quarantine is ongoing and i don't have any specific ideas about how a relationship discussion would go or be handled over zoom haha)
it starts as a group conference call between yennefer and triss and jaskier and geralt probably because yen and triss and geralt run some sort of small business and they need jaskier for something artistic probably (he's a freelancer)
let's say they have some sort of start-up to do with children's education somehow, inspired by ciri, and they want to start a small educational web series and they want music in each episode and so hire jaskier as a composer
geralt is in charge of episode content because this web series is gonna be about mythology and he has a masters in it and has done a fair amount of traveling for it (and lowkey has been learning about different kinds of myrhs and legends and heroes and monsters all his life alongside swordfighting thanks vesemir)
ANYWAYS at first they just talk about work: geralt knows which myths he wants to talk about and how, but can't quite come up with a good narrative because he has a bad tendency to ramble on about very precise specific details that get boring, and he also doesnt know how to set the tone for children despite having one himself
jaskier suggests they make the show centre around a hero that is a witcher who goes off on adventures meeting all these creatures, and jaskier already has some fun ideas for songs
jaskier thinks geralt isnt very forthcoming but he's clearly interested in the project and there's excitement in his eyes when he says ciri will like something they write together
geralt also gets kind of moody about inaccuracies (like a nerd 'cuz he is one lol), and jaskier thinks it's funny and likes to pull his leg by saying they should just change this detail or that detail and that he's allowed bc he's the composer and he's taking creative liberties
about three zoom meetings in, they decide the witcher should have a horse and jaskier says they should give it a name and geralt says "roach" and jaskier laughs and asks about cockroaches and geralt looks... petulant??? and says there are fish called roach too and he meant the fish, and jaskier feels fond and relents and says yes fine the horse's name is "roach"
the next video call they have, they start talking again about work and jaskier's trying not to focus too much on the fact that geralt has shown up with his hair braided but goodness it makes him look softer with the way it pulls back and some strands of hair escape to frame his face
geralt eventually notices and hmms his questioning hmm (and when did jaskier start distinguishing the difference?) and when jask asks about the braid, geralt's face goes EVEN SOFTER and says ciri can't practice braiding on her friends' hair at school anymore so she practices with him and jaskier's like "well fuck that's it this is it ive never even seen him in person but here we are this is a crush oh shit"
the first time geralt laughs is because in one of their meetings, jaskier decided he was gonna be chill and wear a work shirt but just his boxers with stupid cartoon pizzas on them, amd he feels so comfortsble he forgets he's just wesring his underwrar 'till he gets up to grab his acoustic guitar and geralt sounds like he was startled into laughter and yeah, that's right, he's wearing stupid boxers and he flushes but geralt looks pretty amused and jaskier did that so he's not too embarrassed
halfway through the session after that, where jaskier has given up on slightly professional looking clothes but has committed to wearing something over his boxers at all times, he hears some barking and he sees a german shepherd's nose enter the bottom of the frame by geralt's arm
jaskier is obviously like YOU HAVE A DOG and geralt explains ciri usually plays with him during their meetings but they decided to go earlier that day and when jaskier asks what the dog's name is, geralt pauses and looks a cross between irritated and embarassed and then says "roach"
jaskier laughs and laughs and geralt just looks on stoically and it's not on his mouth but jaskier can see the pout in his eyes, but after he's done laughing, all he says is, "like the fish" and geralt smiles a tiny smile and shakes his head and jaskier's a goner, truly
one day, jaskier is caught on trying to find the perfect wording and chord progression for one of the episodes, and focuses on his guitar and keyboard for a while as he toys with this key and that rhyme, and when he looks up, geralt is in a kitchen putting on tea and mixing something in a pot and it's an hour past when they usually hang up
"you could have stopped me, you know?" jaskier asks, but geralt looks at him and hmms and jaskier feels all warm goddammit
he tells jaskier to go take a break and jaskier obliges and brings his laptop to his kitchen and they kind of just have tea together for twenty minutes before something dings and geralt has to go 'cuz it's dinner time for him and ciri
the next meeting, geralt shows up and his daughter's there in the background and she has hair like geralt's and a sunshine personality the complete opposite of geralt (though they both give off disintguished kinds of vibes)
jaskier is charmed; she's a great cheerleader and a wonderful person to run ideas by especially considering she's the target age group for their show, and when she makes a comment about how she wishes she could play the ukulele she got as a gift two years ago, jaskier brightens up and says he can teach her
now jaskier zoom calls a little earlier so ciri can have a short ukulele lesson before his work meeting with geralt, and it's so nice whenever he hears ciri practicing off to the side or roach barking from out of the frame and jaskier wonders what it would be like to truly be in the house with them
the next meeting after, they go a bit too long again bc they were arguing (well, jaslier was actually pulling geralt's leg some more, to be honest, but he can't help it if that's how he flirts), and ciri shows up and says it's time for food and when jaskier says he'll leave them to it, ciri suggests he just stay on amd they can eat together
geralt doesn't immediately say no and actually seems to be waiting for jaskier's answer so jaskier says yeah okay, and he grabs some food and they all have dinner together and they get to talking and jakier and ciri bond over disney movies and ciri says she wants to watch them together the three of them and yennefer and triss
the watch party happens and over zoom yennefer seems deeply amused the entire time and triss keeps giggling and geralt seems extra annoyed for some reason but jaskier enjoys himself and sings along to the movie and he tries not to imagine sitting right next to geralt on his couch on the side not occupied by his daughter
jaskier wakes up with a headache very close to their meeting time one day, and kind of just opens his laptop while he's lying in bed and opens the window to wait for geralt to start the meeting while he reaches over to get his ukulele 'cuz it's the closest instrument to his bed and the easiest on his brain when it's pounding like this
when he settles back against his headbkard and pillows once more, geralt is looking at him with a frown and asks if he's feeling okay, to which jaskier replies he's fine it's not covid he just gets headaches every now and then and it sucks but he can still compose (and he shakes his lil uke at the camera)
geralt says no he should sleep and when jaskier pouts he says he's going to sit here and wait for jaskier to put down the damn ukulele and drink some water and eat a granola bar and then tuck himself back into bed and he looks all fierce about it while he says it and how can jaskier not lug his laptop around while he does these things and fall a little more in love
eventually it becomes totally normal for jaskier to just hang out for long stretches of time, whether or not they talk about their witcher web series, and they cook together and hang out in their pajamas and jaskier and ciri have their music lessons and their disney nights and geralt even starts getting him to work out during some of their work breaks by doing 8 minuts abs
(jaskier was pretty adamant about not exercising but said he's do it just the one time but after 8 minutes of pain, geralt was flushed and kind of sweaty and said he needed to chamge his shirt anf then just took it off right there on the camera before he walked out frame to grab a new one and jaskier had to rush to pick his jaw off the floor before going to change out of his own sweaty clothes and yeah so he does 8 minute abs with geralt sometimes now)
once, geralt sends him a zoom link for a meeting at 2am on a night when jaskier can't fall asleep (his sleeping schedule's been so fucked since quarantine started) and when jaskier joins him, he looks like hell and he apologizes but when jaskier says he probably won't sleep for another three hours anyways, geralt looks the tiniest bit grateful and asks if they can work so they do, and if jaskier writes a song that's a little more like a lullabye dyring their meeting, and feels like his heart is about to burst when geralt, who'd moved from his desk to his couch, nods off while jaskier softly sings to him, well... jaskier doesn't know what to do with himself after he makes sure geralt is properly sleeping and then leaves the zoom meeting
they work and work and really get to know each other and then, all of a sudden, there are no more songs to be written for their witcher series and jaskier says "that's the last song, i think" and geralt hmms but neither of them hangs up
jaskier bites his lip and says, "i'll see you at the team meeting we'll have with yennefer and triss to wrap up my contract, i guess?"
and geralt says, "you should add me on facebook; we should keep in touch for future projects"
jaskier tries not to feel too bummed out because this is still a connection point and also yay more creative projects with the hot man he is probably definitely in love with and also potentially more money! but he's still a little bummed and then he decides if he's going to feel bummed he should at least do something about it and he says, "i will! you know facebook has video chat too"
and geralt hmms again but there's definitely a smile, and it's even an actual smile! "im aware," he says, and then before he hangs up the zoom call he looks stern and adds, "dont forget about ciri's ukulele lessons" and honestly jaskier wasn't expecting to continue with them but he's relieved they can still keep doing those
he shoots geralt that friend request and sates the need to scroll down his wall by going through geralt's past previous profile photos instead (they're usually of him and ciri and they're adorable)
and then, delight of delights, the next day around when they usually have their meeting, there's a video chat request from one geralt of rivia coming through facebook, and even more delightful: geralt's clearly on his phone and he only waits on the screen long enough to make sure jaskier's there and to give him a quirked eyebrow and a trademark hmm before he turns the camera around and jaskier is treated to an outside view and a walk with geralt and roach via mobile
and thus geralt becomes a fixture of his every day life
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Title: A Smutty Fanfic
Pairing: Levi x Reader
Fandom: Obey Me!
Genre: Smut
Written by @rikumorimachisgirl
Word count: 1,500
Disclaimer: I do not own Obey Me or its characters, but this story was wholly my idea.
A/N: This is my very first Obey Me fic. I hope you like it.
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This was the worst! 
You skimmed through the half-filled Doodle Note on your DDD and sighed. The fic you were writing was due in two days, and you were nowhere near completing it. 
Maybe I should just quit, you thought to yourself with another long sigh. After all, I've never written something like this before.
"Oi! I can't focus on my game with all that sighing in the background!" 
You tore your gaze away from your phone and looked at the purple-haired demon, who was glaring at you from where he was seated at the bottom of his bed. In the past three months that you've been living as an exchange student in Devildom, you've grown fond of all your housemates at the House of Lamentation - especially Levi.
Tonight, you hung out in his room like always, tinkering with your DDD while watching him play. Only, your mind was elsewhere and he didn't seem to like it.
"Oops! Sorry, " you said, flustered. "I can leave the room -"
"That's not what I meant." With the game controller still in his hand, he plopped onto his bed just a bit short of where you were seated and looked at you curiously. "Are you bored? I asked you earlier if you wanted to play 'Tour of Duty', but you didn't want to."
"It's not that."
"Then what's the problem?" 
"It's nothing, " you dismissed, hiding your DDD away. "Anyway, shouldn't you be playing?"
"Hmm, I don't know. I think I'm more interested to find out what's gotten you in a bind, " he said before tossing the controller to one side. "So what's up?"
"I told you, it's no biggie, " you insisted. As you struggled to come up with an excuse, he caught your wrist and pried the DDD from your hand. "Hey!" 
"Oho! You're keeping secrets from me now? You don't get to do that, normie. After all, I am your senpai, " he said with a suppressed laugh as he scanned through your notes with one hand while keeping you at bay with the other. 
"Give that back, Levi!"
"Let's see… 'Go on, Davin. I won't stop you.', " he started reading out loud, much to your horror. 
He was reading it - your sorry attempt at writing a fanfic! "Stop it, " you cried out, as you dove to retrieve your DDD and what little dignity you had left.
"You're writing a fic about your Doctor Love bias! I'll read some more. He kissed her non-stop as he laid her on the bed. After what seemed like forever, he stripped her off her clothes and climbed on top of her…" 
You shut your eyes as he continued to read what you'd written, silently wishing that Diavolo would magically appear and zap you back to the human world. You were so wrapped up in your wishes, you failed to notice that the room had become dead silent and that Levi was handing you back your phone. 
"Don't laugh, " you nearly growled at him as you snatched your DDD back. 
"I couldn't if I wanted, " he replied. "That… that's a smutty fanfic you're writing. I didn't know you were into those…"
"Asmo made me do it! He made me join his Post-Valentine's Day event -"
"Lust Fest?" The dashing Otaku exclaimed as he looked at you wide-eyed. "Why the heck did you sign up… and more importantly, this type of writing is even worse than a noob's. I mean, you could do a better job of describing what's happening or how the characters are feeling. That right there looks like it'd been written by a virgin." 
His snide comment made you wince. Taking a deep breath, you square your shoulders and glanced at him. "I can't help that, " you said, trying your best not to blush. "I am a virgin."
"Oh, " he said quietly as he stared at his feet to hide his embarrassment. "I didn't know. Sorry."
"That's fine. Maybe I can head over to Lucifer and ask him to help me with this."
He gripped your wrist once more, just as you were getting out of bed. "Why Lucifer?" 
You looked at him quizzically and tilted your head to one side. "Uh… because he looks like he's got a ton of experience -"
He yanked on your wrist so you'd fallen on his lap. Before you finished your sentence, his mouth had claimed yours, moving hungrily, claiming every inch of your being. Holding you close, he swallowed your gasp and thrust his tongue into your mouth to seek yours.
"Don't go to Lucifer, " he said in between kisses. "Stay with me. I'll help you out. Is that okay?" 
You managed a small nod before he moved his attention from your lips to your neck. As he sucked on a sensitive spot, you let out a moan and immediately clamped your hand over your mouth. 
"Don't cover your mouth. I want to hear you moan for me, " he whispered, before lapping at your neck while slowly unbuttoning your pajama top. "Tell me what I just did."
"You… you… marked me. I-It felt good…"
"Really? What about now?" He made short work of opening your top, and his hands were soon on your breasts, kneading and rolling your nipples between his fingers. "I wonder if your nipples taste as sweet as your mouth is." He blew on one of your pebbled nipples before taking one of them into his mouth, and you felt your panties get soaked. He sucked and laved his warm tongue over your pink nipples one at a time, while you buck against him wildly. "Does this feel good? Tell me!" His voice was raw with lust as he tore your top away and moved you so he had a full view of your naked top. 
You wanted to tell him how wonderful it felt, how your toes curled as he sucked on your breasts, and how you've discovered an invisible connection between your breasts and your pussy… but all you could utter was a moan. 
"You're beautiful, " he said, smiling before you tangled your fingers on his hair and pulled him back so he could lavish your breasts once more. As he flicked his tongue against your hard nipples, you bucked your hips against his hardened cock. The sensation made him groan and he bit your nipple and sucked on it hard. 
Slowly, he laid you on his bed and ran his hand down your body, over your soft plains and curves, and palmed your soaking pussy over your damp pajamas. You arched against his touch and sought more. 
"You're okay with this," he asked. 
"You're asking that now," you quipped. "Teach me, Senpai. I'm all yours."
Those three words were all it took to break his last barrier of restraint. "I want you. I've wanted you for so long, " he said roughly as he removed your bottoms and his clothes and tossed them on the floor. He planted kisses on your lips, your neck, the valley between your breasts, down your belly, before he stopped to look up at her. With a sly smile on his lips, he slowly turned his attention back to your pussy and removed your soaking panties with his teeth. 
It was slow torture, he was aware. As he caught a whiff of your arousal, he cursed himself for not being a total noob at these things. Sighing, he tore the offending garment off. 
You watched as he licked his lips and you tangled your fingers on the pillow, holding your breath,  waiting for his next move. 
"Relax, normie. Trust me, you'll like it, " he said before he dipped his head between your legs and nuzzled his nose against your clit, taking in as much of your scent as he can before you felt warm wet tongue part your folds and  lick your essence. 
"Don't stop… don't stop…"
He sucked and slurped every drop of your essence. "Levi, please… I want more!"
"Just a little while longer, " he said, sliding a finger inside you. You gasped and arched your back as he pumped in and out your pussy. "Does this feel good? I'll make you feel even better." He sealed his promise by sucking on your clit as his fingers thrust in and out of you faster. He knew you were close, he could feel your muscles start to contract, he curled his finger inside you and felt you shatter around him. You cried out his name and bucked thrashed beneath him, riding out your orgasm.
A few minutes later, you laid side by side, breathing heavily as your bodies covered in a thin sheen of sweat.
"That… That was amazing, Levi."
"See? You really didn't need Lucifer for that right, " he said cockily, as he rested his head on your arm. "I can give you all the orgasm you'll ever need."
"But I didn't need Lucifer for this, " you pointed out, much to his surprise. "I was gonna ask him to proofread my work. You're the only one I want."
"Proofread?"
You nodded, and swept his bangs to one side. "Absolutely. You're the only one I want." You smiled at your boyfriend, who was now blushing furiously. "But now I think I can do even better. I think I can write a smutty fanfic… All thanks to you."
The end. 
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sanders-sides-fic · 4 years
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I (don’t) do best on my own! [TINND!R? prequel]
AU-masterpost: here
“Run!”
Virgil didn’t need to be told twice before complying. It didn’t even matter that the terrified shout had in no way been addressed to him. Janus, on the other hand, only smiled his brightest smile.
“Well, isn’t this nice?”, he asked the aliens all around him. No one was able to react to him, before suddenly a new alien in uniform came to a slithering halt in front of him and pointed a strange weapon at his chest. Chances where it wouldn’t hurt him, but then again, there had been some weapons which had proved to have an even stronger effect on humans. Besides, a bullet-like projectile inside a vital organ generally tended to end badly for any species, and he had no idea what this particular weapon was or what it would do.
All around him the aliens looked at him with expressions nothing short of disgust, horror and distain. It was strange and yet fascinating to him, how the varying expressions were all too different and yet obvious once you’d gotten used to it. Sometimes, he would try and remember them, just in case it would be needed to communicate something. Like with the angry alien in front of him. He really wished he’d know what was hidden behind the mask. Was this a bohver? A photynêsc? Perhaps a flastrae? Something with an anatomy somewhat similar to a human’s at least. But what exactly this alien was, he did not know.
“Look, I don’t want to hurt anyone here.”, he started, smile unfaltering. He knew that expression didn’t translate well, but since they had escaped from that ship, it had become somewhat famous. He hoped that would be enough. “My intentions are not violent. I only want to have my…” Uh, what was that word again? He suppressed a sigh - something most aliens thought to be a sign of anger rather than frustration, apparently - and pointed to his bag the horrified laesk still clutched to his - or… her? It’s? he wasn’t quite sure… To their chest. “I want to have that back and then we can all go our own way. Sound good, yes?”
The alien shook their head vehemently. “There is no way a-” Okay, Janus did not know that word. Did that mean police man? He assumed so, but wasn’t sure. “-would let a deathworlder go! And that scar is enough to-” Why did this alien use such difficult words? This time, Janus had no idea what it meant. He didn’t even hold the sigh back anymore. But what he did understand, was his name: “Janus Viper!”
And so did the other aliens. All of them repeated his name, now even more terrified than before. The ones that were still present were too scared to run, so they only took a few cautious steps back.
“Yes. That is in fact me. And Virgil just ran away, you kind of scared him. Very rude, by the way. Now, why can’t you let me go? And please use simple words, I’m not… what’s it… I am still bad with common.”, Janus clarified. Something he hated to admit, actually. Of cause he was better than Virgil as he’d had longer to practice and less… obstacles to overcome. Still, he was far from fluent and specific words or technical jargon were basically impossible for him.
The policeman said something, but Janus didn’t understand even a single word. Was that even common? He sighed again, a bit more annoyed how. “I do not understand you. Will you use simpler words?”, he asked, now clearly agitated. The policeman shied away a bit at his words, but didn’t even think about lowering that obnoxious weapon. Well, at least Virgil was safe.
“I said you are a wanted-” Person? Criminal? Probably criminal. -”and I have to take you with me.”
Janus sighed. “Great. He stole from me, and I’m the… criminal was it?”
“Yes!”, came the answer from all around him. He chuckled, shaking his head. “Fine. Fine! I tried to be nice, don’t forget that. Thank you.”, he said. The aliens around him exchanged confused, unsettled glances. So far so good. He didn’t want to hurt anyone, not really. But he would use their prejudges and their fear to his advantage without question. What else was being an infamous ‘deathworlder’ good for, after all? It really didn’t have much advantages.
Janus was just about to continue, lie his way out of this situation, preferably with their bag of supplies, and go find Virgil, wherever he’d run off to, when…
“Argh!”
Suddenly, a flash of black and purple fell from atop the roof, right onto the policemen. Janus winced as a sickening crunch filled the semi-silence. Virgil slowly stood up, taking the weapon in his hands. It seemed to be heavy or at least hard to handle, judging from the way he had to hold it in both his hands. Everyone just watched silently, as he pointed the weapon right at the thief, his eyes cold and his hand shaking only slightly.
“Oops.”, Janus chuckled from behind Virgil, relief mixing with a slight sense of hysteria. “Looks like you should give that back now.”
And then, mayhem broke loose. Screams sounded from around them as the aliens either ran or hid wherever they could, the thief threw the bag at the duo and scrambled to get away from them, and there was the sound of approaching reinforcements for the now dead officer. Fortunately, they weren’t able to get through the other aliens running around aimlessly with their only apparent goal being to just get away.
Virgil and Janus looked at each other for a second. “Roofs?”, Virgil signed, obviously still too shaken up to speak. Janus, without commenting on it, smirked, answering out loud: “Roofs.”
Virgil gripped the bag tightly, before providing a leg up to Janus, who in turn didn’t waste a second in using it to get on top of the very roof Virgil had just jumped off of. Virgil, being the more experience one when it came to accessing the top of seemingly smooth walls, climbed after him effortlessly. Or at least effortless enough to reach the top the same moment Janus managed to pull himself up completely. “You’ve gotten better at this.”, Virgil remarked with a smirk before motioning with his head which way to go. Janus was about to retort something smooth and witty, but the first shots were fired in their general direction so he started to run with a curse under his breath.
Roofs in most cultural diverse alien towns were as flat as the one they were on right now, but sadly also extremely slippery and wide away from each other. Every jump was scarier than the last to Janus, but he could see the delighted face of the more anxious boy next to him, a rare grin on his lips. The faster they went and the longer they catapulted themselves from one roof to the next, dodging bullets and sometimes using routes simply to avoid getting caught in the fire, slithering to a stop on the next roof and sometimes gripping each other for support, the less afraid and the more free Virgil seemed. At some point he even let out a few cheers or a short, breathed laugh when they avoided a fall.
Janus never understood why this, of all things, made Virgil feel so very free.
Way too late they reached their space ship and with way too little time they slipped inside, closed the door and ran to their posts. “Ready?”, Janus asked as soon as he sat in front of the steering wheel, looking towards Virgil above his shoulder. Virgil ran around for a few more seconds, checking some lights and pushing a few buttons, before he gave a short nod. So Janus started the ship and flew away as fast as he could manage. Not quite fast enough, judging from the sound of a projectile hitting the ship, but no warning blared, so it was fine. Probably. Hopefully.
He’d best keep that a secret from Virgil.
About half an hour passed in silence before Janus switched to auto pilot, leaving the cockpit. He found Virgil curled up in the kitchen, absentmindedly watching as the stars and planets passed by the window. Janus could actually see him doing that in a train or a car or something.
“Why didn’t you just run? You almost gave me a heart attack when I realized you were still back there!”, Virgil muttered under his breath. So he hadn’t been too absent minded to notice Janus.
Janus sighed. “Well, I would have just loved to loose all our supplies, because we have so much money to spare, don’t we?”
Virgil let out a little growl. A habit he’d developed through being stuck in situations where that was all he could do to voice his distain lately. “You could have died there!”, he hissed angry, still not looking at Janus.
“Oh, relax, dear storm cloud! I totally had that covered.” They both knew that was a lie. A complete and utter lie. He’d been close to being shot. Again. That was why Virgil didn’t let him leave alone anymore, a little voice in his head reminded him. The lie was enough to earn a glare from the younger man. He opened his mouth, but closed it again after a few voiceless moments with a soft blush. Instead of saying anything, Virgil stalked out of the room and towards the sleeping quarters.
Janus sat down, face buried in his still gloved hands. He messed up. If Virgil hadn’t been able to talk even though they were alone, if his selective mutism had been triggered by his emotions, then Janus really fucked up. And that hurt more than anything Virgil could have said, if he was being honest.
“Fuck.”, he whispered.
But it was okay, actually. They may be friends, but honestly, it was a friendship born solely out of their need. A pathological liar and an overly anxious teen didn’t really fit as friends, did they? And both of them had been alone all their lives before shit went down. They could both take it.
Still hurt like a bitch, though.
❧✾☙❦❧✾☙
“Virgil, diner’s ready!”, Janus called out. He hadn’t heard anything from his ship mate since their earlier almost-argument, so he hoped that Virgil would answer his call. He knew that he could do little to none until Virgil left his room on his own, though. They had traveled together long enough for him to know how Virgil dealt with things like this and when he had to leave him alone to cool down.
A long silence followed and Janus sighed. Looked as though the teen wouldn’t come today. He just hoped Virgil would get himself something when the light circle would simulate night.
Without warning, however, Virgil appeared behind Janus and definitely did not make him flinch by surprise. Virgil snorted in amusement, but left Janus’… lack of reaction alone other than that.
“What’s for dinner? Alien soup or alien slop?”, the younger one asked sarcastically. Janus grinned. “Neither! You know how they took some plant samples from home together with us? Well, I may or may not have found a little something. It was being sold as potent poison, of cause, but…”
As he gave Virgil his portion, the confusion shifted to disbelieving surprise. “Is that…?” Janus nodded. “Sure is. Today, we have garlic bread. Oh, and tomato soup. But, I mean, garlic bread!”
Virgil chuckled, as he took a bite, humming happily. “God! I used to hate eating garlic bread.”, he confessed, “Because of the smell and all. But right now this is the best ting that could happen.” Janus laughed, but agreed in his head. It was funny how little things could lift your spirit once everything you knew and trusted was taken away from you.
“Oh, I also found a pineapple.”, Janus mentioned. “They got really suspicious because I wanted the entire thing. Asked if I wanted to poison an entire army or something.” They both laughed at the thought.
They continued to chat through dinner, both of them avoiding what had happened earlier. Maybe it was bad to just leave it untouched, but they would come around to that when it was time.
After dinner, they watched the stars for a bit longer. “What do you think, which one is the sun?”, Janus asked long after the lights had dimmed as they ignored that they should probably go to sleep. Virgil sighed. He was too tired to have his defenses up right now. As per usual, he hadn’t slept a wink before they had docked to stock up their supplies. “Don’t know, don’t care.”, he mumbled, “’s not like we’ll find our way back there anyways. And I don’t really wanna go back.”
That surprised Janus a bit. It was the first time he heard about it. “You don’t? But… What about your family? Your father? And your friends?”
“Nah. You’re my only friend anyways. They don’t like me much better than the aliens. You can go though, I do better on my own, I just don’t like being alone. But you wanna go back, so don’t tell, m’kay? Don’t wanna make you upset.”
Janus’ heart broke a little at his words, but warmed at the last statement. “You need to sleep.”
“Fine. Just don’t die or s’m’thin’.” A common fear of Virgil’s. Ever since they had escaped, he had started to get paranoid of loosing Janus. Of cause that alone was enough to make sure Janus would never be able to leave.
“Don’t worry, I’ll be here when you wake up. We’re together in this. Always.”
And then Virgil’s breathing became more even than the anxious teen would ever breath when he was awake. Teen? No, adult by now. But he’d been a teen when they had captured him. About sixteen or so. How old was he now? Twenty? Twenty-two? How old did that make Janus? He sighed.
Whatever, he had to sleep, too. Thinking dreadful thoughts was more Virgil’s thing anyways. But just as he dosed off, Janus was woken up suddenly and harshly by a loud alarm blaring through the ship. Huh? What could possibly be wrong all of a sudden? He carefully put down Virgil’s head and went to operation control.
What he saw shocked him at first. One of their boosters had a hole inside it. They would crash helplessly in about thirty minutes if he didn’t do anything, floating around space without anyone willing to rescue them. He knew they had the necessary things to replace the destroyed rotor blade, but they would have to land first - and fast. But how…
He cursed. Of cause. They had been short when they had made their escape. Well, fuck! He started to check for any inhabitable planets close enough to make it.
“Janus? What’s going on?”, Virgil’s panicked voice suddenly filled the air.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! How did he best tell him without sending him into a panic attack?!
“We have a little problem. But I can fix it! We only have to land first. And… We’re lucky, there’s a planet in close proximity, XY-3. We’ll have to filter the air and be quick about it, but it’ll do.”
Silence. Janus looked over towards Virgil, who signed something with shaky hands: “Isn’t that the one with the storms? The one we were told to never land on, ever?” Janus gave him a wry smile. “Uh, yes. But it’ll be fine, promise. We’re a good team, we’ll make it in time. Everything is going to be fine, okay?”
And as Janus turned back towards the controls, he bit his lip and avoiding seeing Virgil’s expression, he desperately hoped that this one time his words would be the truth…
Uhm, everyone who read the prologue… I’m very sorry? Anyways…
Taglist!
@the-ultimate-a @bunny222 @elvis-has-been-dug @what-is-love-babey-dont-hurt-me @gattonero17 @selenechris
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