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#There’s lots to learn… but I’m up for it!
ode2rin · 3 days
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ANYONE BUT YOU .ೃ
pairing. michael kaiser x gn!reader
genre. college AU | older brother's bestfriend | fake dating (@/saekkas req!) | angry confession (anon req)
content/warnings. 5k+ wc (part 1/3) | reader is a sophomore while kaiser is a senior | reader is ness's younger sibling | reader has little to no college friends | reader hates kaiser's guts | PROTECTIVE kaiser lol | toxic uni gossip culture | pet names (dollface) & a lot of profanity (it's kaiser) | minimal proofread
summary: as lines get blurred, hearts get flustered, and a scheme ensues, your brother's best friend suddenly seems way more interesting than he used to be.
💭 masterlist | next part
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“I’m sorry, I don’t think I can go with you anymore.”
Your ears were ringing.
After the words hung over the line, a heavy silence descended, punctuated only by the dull thud of your heartbeat echoing in your ears. The phone line seemed to distort, and the world beyond reduced to a distant murmur as a disorienting ringing filled your ears. Yet, despite the shock rippling through, you managed to maintain a facade.
“Ah, I see. It’s no problem. See you around!” Your chirped voice made you cringe internally, but it was a better front than sounding like a defeated kid whose mom said no over a piece of candy at a grocery store.
Before he could say anything else, you clicked the end button faster than he could spew some tacky excuse. Throwing your phone to the side, you settled onto your bed, lying on your back, staring at the uninteresting ceiling of your room.
Sure, it was no problem at all— the music festival was just six hours away, and your date had just canceled on you over the phone. It’s no big deal facing your college blockmates without a companion as initially planned, and it’s totally not a problem that you will most likely be a third– hell, a seventh wheel, actually, and have them talk behind your back – speculating about why you're going alone or if you were just making it up that you had someone to bring.
Yes, it’s not a fucking problem at all.
You don’t even like the artist lineup, anyway (maybe you’re mildly interested with one band that’s attending).  You wouldn’t bother if you weren’t just a sophomore still trying to find a group of friends you can call your own. It's embarrassing enough that freshmen even had it better than you. It’s not a race, for sure, but in college– the truth lies blatant that support systems help. A lesson you learned the hardest way.
“Y/N? Are you in there?” Three soft knocks on your door and a muffled voice, surely coming from your older brother, interrupted your pity party.
“Yes. Come in,” you confirmed. The door creaked open, revealing a mop of magenta hair leaning over your door frame.
“There’s food downstairs. We ordered your favorite.”
“We?”
“Kaiser is downstairs.”
Of course, he is. 
Your brother’s best friend must have really taken it to heart when your mom told him he can treat your family as his own. Too deep into his heart, if you could comment. You see him around the house more than you see your parents, and if that wasn’t tiresome enough, he’s literally a damn superstar in your university. Every corner, every room, in halls and library, everyone can’t seem to be over his name like a broken record.
You wouldn’t be this annoyed, hostile even, if said man was just as nice as your brother. But instead, he was far by the most obnoxious, foul-mouthed, arrogant prick you’ve ever known. Alexis should have never kicked some ball with that conceited oaf a decade ago. Life would have been so much better. But no— reality is, the bane of your existence in the form of blonde hair and sharp blue eyes, is in your house’s kitchen, probably gulping down your favorite drinks in the fridge. 
If you can’t seem to have friends, your older brother seems to be goddamn bad at picking his.
“Hey, dollface. Missed me?” Speak of the damn devil and he shall appear.
The first thing you’re met with after coming down is a sight of Michael Kaiser, sitting high and comfortably on one of the counter’s bar stools. Your gaze trails down to his hand where you see a peek of his crown tattoo— and would you look at that? He’s holding a can of your Coke Zero.
“Oh, so that’s why my life was going sideways again,” you feigned a sigh in disappointment, making sure it was loud enough for him to hear, “because you’re back.”
In your unwanted years of knowing this guy, you’ve soon realized that none of your words, no matter how sharp or snarky they get, would ever faze him. Evidence would be how he just openly chuckled at your remark. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. I missed you and your smart mouth, too. Don’t worry.”
“Trust me, worry is not in the list of emotions I would ever feel for you.”
“Well, does attraction make it to the list?”
Years ago, perhaps it would have. Not that he needs to know—no chance. Your silly childhood crush on him was your deepest, darkest mistake. You might be overdramatic, but this was Michael Kaiser, and god, you would rather get caught having feelings for anyone but him.
Rolling your eyes at him, you sneer, “You wish.”
“Oh, trust me, I do wish,” he mocks your tone.
“Fuck off.” 
“That won’t get rid of me, I’m afraid,” he shrugs before winking at you. You shook your head in annoyance.
You took the seat across from him and settled. You were about to lean to reach the box of pizza at the other end of the countertop, when Kaiser reached for it first and placed it in front of you.
You turned to look at him, half expecting a smirk or yet another wink from the blonde, but instead, he was preoccupied browsing on his phone as if his body moved on its own to attend to you.
You shrugged off the weird occurrence and turned all attention to the pizza and its heavenly scent sipping through the gaps of its box, just in time for Alexis to take the seat next to his best friend. You drowned the noise of their conversation as they started talking about last away games.
Your brother and Kaiser had been the most valuable players of your university’s soccer team for as long as you’ve remembered. They were two years older, so by the time you entered university, they were already making big names in the field. Rumors had it that there were already offers lining up at their feet.
If you come to think of it, it wouldn’t be this hard making friends if you would just be vocal about being Alexis Ness’ younger sibling, but the limelight and pretentious popularity it came with was something you wouldn’t wish upon yourself. You wanted real and genuine friends, not people who wanted to be around you because it was a step closer to your brother and his best friend.
Like earlier, Alexis’ voice came reaching your eardrums, snapping you out of your thoughts. After hearing what he had to ask, though, you wished you had a way to physically block out his words.
“Are you not going to get ready for the festival?” your brother asked, meanwhile, his dear friend seemed to take great interest in what you’re about to say as both of them peered over you.
“Not going anymore,” you said, as nonchalant as you could to play pretend.
“Why? You’ve been looking forward to it the whole week.”
Heat crept into your ears and cheeks as embarrassment filled you. Sure, you might not be prancing around being all excited about it, but if your brother was able to notice it, your enthusiasm must have been evident then. God, you felt like an utter fool now.
“It got canceled,” you looked away from them.
Alexis looked at you with furrowed brows, “What do you mean? It’s not–”
“My date canceled on me. I’m not going anymore to save face and not make a fool out of myself. There, happy?” you snapped.
Before you could even feel the guilt from bursting out unprovoked to your brother, you swiftly got up from the stool heading back to your room, leaving the two of them in the kitchen looking concerned contrarily. One with worried eyes glancing at your room hesitantly, and the other one with a clenched jaw and narrowed eyes.
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It seemed everyone was testing your patience today, as for the second time, your ears rang—not from a last-minute cancellation this time, but from the persistent sound of your ringing phone.
Your heavy eyes fluttered open, weighed down by the sleep from your ignoring-the-world nap after the exchange with your supposed date and your brother. Disoriented and groggy, you reached out, fingers fumbling to check the caller deserving of your unrelenting fury.
Kaiser, the screen read, and suddenly, the urge to throw your phone at the nearest wall almost overwhelmed your senses.
But you answered the call anyway, because logic says that he was still your brother’s closest, and sometimes, that warranted a call that might be about him.
“I swear to god this better be important–”
“Get ready,” he interrupted.
“What?”
“Look out your window.”
Groaning, you rose to your feet, moving your drapes aside to see what awaited outside.
Outside your house’s gates, a midnight blue sports car, all too familiar, was parked across the driveway. Its owner leaned lazily over its door, one hand in his pocket while the other held his phone pressed to his ear, looking right back at you with that shit-eating grin.
“What the hell are you on?” you muttered into the phone.
You instantly closed the drapes after meeting eyes with him.
It’s infuriating—He’s infuriating. But damn, does he look good when he smiles like that. And it’s not helping your case that he was clad in loose-fitting denim pants and a black shirt, sufficiently showcasing both his tattoo and his lean yet toned build.
It’s sorcery how he makes simple and ordinary clothing look like it was screaming high-end and luxury. Only he can do that, you admit.
“As I said, get ready,” he repeated over the phone, “We only have less than two hours before your music festival or something starts.”
He’s taking me to it? “Why?”
Only one word in response, yet the two of you understood what you’re pertaining to. Silence filled the line for a moment before you heard a subtle click of his tongue.
“Because you look ugly when you sulk,” and he hung up.
You should be irritated at him hanging up abruptly and calling you ugly, but for some reason you don’t know, it puts a smile on your face. 
The first one today.
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Kaiser wishes he had a bigger car— which one would deem ridiculous, given that his car could easily match the price of two or even three minivans.
But if it meant having you sit not so close that your scent infiltrates his senses beyond his sound judgment, he’d gladly trade his lambo for a minivan any day.
You were intoxicating— not akin to the grip of liquor, because it would be inadequate in comparison. But rather intoxicating in the same way as the irresistible magnetism that beckons a madman to its vices.
And he must be really mad because you weren’t even sitting shoulder-to-shoulder close to him. You’re sitting comfortably at the passenger seat, a good distance in between, and yet he acts like a raging teenager who got locked up with his crush in the utility room. It is absolutely embarrassing, even for someone like him.
“Did Alexis ask you to do this?” you suddenly inquired, your gaze fixed on your side of the car.
Thank heavens you broke the silence first, because who knows what ungodly phrases he would come up with in an attempt of small talk with you?
“No. Though I bet he would have taken you himself,” he snorted, of course your brother would, “If our coach weren’t so pissed at him these days.”
Ah, so that explained why you hadn't seen Alexis around the house before hopping into Kaiser's car.
Momentarily, you turned to him. It was so swift that he might have missed it if he wasn’t so hyper aware of your every move in this damn confined space. “Is he in trouble?” you inquired to the blonde, your voice concerned and hesitant.
“Nothing you have to worry about, doll.”
“Stop with the nicknames,” you hissed, attempting to intimidate. 
Unfazed, he countered with a cheeky “Make me,” under his breath. His smirk practically audible, even without you glancing his way.
Silence overtook between the two of you once more. You fixated on the road ahead, noting the nearing destination as the glow of the festival stage lights peeked into view.
It’s your chance— your chance to release the words that have lingered at the edge of your tongue since he urged you to get ready almost an hour ago. You stole a glance at the man driving beside you. His eyes focused on the road, his left hand steady on the steering wheel while his timepiece-adorned hand rested comfortably on the gearshift. In another frame of mind, you might have found yourself lost in the rhythm of his long, slender fingers tapping against it. You snapped out of it before he could point it out.
You stole one last glance before turning away to whisper, “Thank you… Kaiser.”
Instead of saying welcome like a polite person would, your companion would of course, choose to say something as, “You owe me something now.”
Of course, you thought. Mentally rolling your eyes, you ask, resigning to his antics, “What do you want?” 
“Call me by my name.”
“Did you not hear? I said, thank you Kai–”
“The one you used to call me.”
Mikka.
It was a silly nickname you gave him– back when Alexis first brought him home for snacks nearly ten years ago. He and Alexis were eleven, and you were barely nine.
You remembered the blonde kid, all sweaty in his mud-stained clothes, clutching a worn-out ball by his hip, his gaze fixed on you with curiosity. “This is Kaiser,” your brother introduced, but the blonde stranger approached you, extending his hand.
“I’m Michael.”
“That’s… long.”
“What?”
“Your name– it’s long,” you echoed, looking up at him, “can I call you ‘Mikka’?”
“What?” Kaiser’s deep voice sliced through your reminiscence. “You had no problem calling me that before,” he pointed out.
“That’s before you beat up the boy you knew I like,” you scoffed at him, a familiar pettiness clouding your mind.
He chuckled at your retort, seemingly lost in his own memories. “Beat him up on the soccer field, you mean,” he corrected, though he wouldn’t particularly mind if it were an actual fight.
“Same thing.”
“Oh, come on! It was highschool!”
“Your point?” you countered.
“He was a snotface, anyway.” he rationalized.
“He was nice to me!”
“I suggest you rather get a dog instead— if nice is all you need. I heard dogs are fun to be around,” he sneered, “What do you think of pomeranians?”
You brushed off his question, preferring the depths of silence over the hypothetical responsibility of tending to a pup that bore more than a passing resemblance to him, both in appearance and, perhaps, in demeanor.
“I knew agreeing to come here with you was a mistake,” you sighed, exasperation lacing your words.
Surprisingly, Kaiser offered no retort. Taking his silence as a cue for your own, you settled into quietness, hoping for a peaceful remainder of the drive. Minutes drifted by until Kaiser broke the stillness with a whisper loud enough for you to catch.
“He was a slimy jerk,” he began, pausing as if hinting his careful choice of words, “and he was nice to you because he was trying to get into your pants.”
“How did you know?” you asked, meek and shy, fumbling with your fingers in your lap.  Seeking love advice and opinions from none other than the mighty Kaiser seemed absurd, but maybe, wisdom might sometimes fare well with age.
“Trust me when I say I know how boys can be,” he scoffed, a displeased furrow settling in his brows. “He wasn't the gentleman you thought he was.”
“And you? Are you a gentleman?”
Before you could stop your thoughts from escaping your rebellious mouth, the words spilled out like water through a breached dam. The lack of response from him compelled you to chew on your lip and fix your gaze on the road, refusing to spare even a glance his way, despite feeling his stare burning into the side of your face.
Meanwhile, Kaiser was aware he might be staring too long at your side for someone controlling a vehicle, but he couldn't help it. Not when you caught him off guard with a simple question, and especially not when you were trying so hard to avoid looking at him, your discomfort palpable in the air. You looked so cute—it made his mouth twitch.
Staring ahead at the road, he contemplated your question, needing no more than a minute to reach his conclusion.
When a man looks at his best friend's younger sibling in a way he shouldn’t, he’s not deserving of the title “gentleman.”
He was far from it, he concluded. With one last glance thrown your way before bringing the car to a full stop, he muttered in an uncharacteristically soft tone.
“Especially not one, doll.”
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“Y/N! Over here!” a familiar voice cut through the cacophony, prompting you to scan the crowd until you finally spotted them.
Relief flooded over you at the sight of a familiar face amidst the crowd. Checking your phone had proven to be a wise decision; otherwise, you might have spent the night searching aimlessly through the vast expanse of the venue.
The venue stretched out before you was a kaleidoscope of sights and sounds that danced upon the senses. Laughter and chatter mingled with applause and the occasional roar of approval as performers graced the stage. 
Everywhere you looked there was movement and so much life. Yet amidst the bustling crowd and pulsating music, one figure occupied your thoughts more than anything else.
Kaiser's towering 6-foot frame loomed behind you, his broad shoulders carving a path of confidence through the crowd. He stood behind you like an immovable rock amidst a rushing river. And if your senses weren't deceiving you, you swore you felt the occasional brush of his hand against the small of your back, gently guiding you forward.
He was so close behind you that his breath on your nape soaked into your skin like ointment— warm to the touch, yet icy on your spine.
“Where's your date?” one of your blockmates inquired after the initial pleasantries were exchanged.
The question lingered, and suddenly, all eyes were on you. Mentally counting heads, you realized you were really on track to be the seventh wheel if you attended without a companion. Speaking of companions— you turned behind you with the intention of introducing Kaiser (not that they didn’t know him already), but your intention faltered when you noticed the scowl on his face.
“I’m the date, if you couldn’t tell,” he interjected. 
From his vantage point, he observed the widening of your eyes at his declaration. Yet, when he didn’t hear any immediate retaliation from you, he flashed you— and everyone else watching— a lopsided smirk. He sensed your blockmates’ curiosity lingering, some perhaps wondering if he was truly dating you. But none of them dared to probe further—maybe because he wasn't exactly the approachable type.
After a few murmurs of ‘oh’ and ‘really’ from your blockmates, they returned their attention to the stage, where the next performer was beginning their pre-performance monologue.
You, on the other hand, look like you were out for his blood from how you’re glaring at him. “Are you out of your mind?” you hissed under your breath, just loud enough for him to hear.
Yes. Perhaps he was. Irrationality had seized him upon hearing the question. After all, he was there with you, visible for all to see. Did they not see him? Did he look like a fucking chair to those people? Common sense must be a luxury these days, given its absence in this situation.
Yet, a small voice of reason within him attempted to intervene, suggesting that the question might have stemmed from genuine curiosity.
As his best friend's younger sibling, seeing the two of you together wasn't an unusual occurrence for those who attend the same university. They likely concluded that your presence with him at the music festival was simply a matter of normal friendship (which it was, but they don’t have to know that, nor does he desire for these extras to reduce it to just that).
“I’m helping you save face like you said earlier,” he tells you, still wearing that annoying smirk.
“How does telling them you’re my date help me save face?” If anything, you'd be hiding on campus after his stunt. You could only hope words won’t travel fast.
“Would you rather I tell them I'm chaperoning you because some jerk canceled on you?”
Your words stalled at the base of your throat, unable to counter his remark. That shut you up, much to your chagrin. He was right.
“Yeah. That’s what I thought,” he quipped, grinning at your silence. “Come closer, there’s a lot of people.”
You huffed in irritation and decided to ignore him behind you, determined to make the most of your experience here. You’d let this slide for now. After all, he was here because of you.
But it wasn’t too long before you realized that ignoring him would be as futile as trying to pluck roses without being pricked by the thorns. You knew very well that this man thrives in getting under people’s skin.
“You should be flattered.”
Genuinely appalled, you ask, “I’m sorry?”
“Accepted.”
If it wasn’t night time and the blaring lights were replaced by the sun, he could have seen the twitch that your eye did at his retort.
At this point, murder is a tempting option. Sure, he’s taller and much bigger in physique terms, but you have the rage for it. Just one more insufferable antic—one more word— from this man and the whole university will be mourning their star player’s demise first thing tomorrow morning. 
You took a deep breath to calm your murderous nerves, “Is that so? What part of telling people— oh wait, our schoolmates who are probably whispering behind our backs— that you’re my date, is flattering to you?”
The asshole had the audacity to shrug, “Calling me yours was.”
“Well then, you should be flattered. Not me.”
“You don’t know how flattered I am to be yours,” he mused.
If you didn’t know any better, his attempt at flirting might have sent warmth to your cheeks. But this was Kaiser— no one can tell when he’s being serious or just being his usual menace self talking shit like he’s employed to do so. Good thing you had better plans than spend it on his guessing games.
Just when you’re about to berate him once more, words halted on your throat because of a sight you least expected to see.
Han— the guy you’ve been talking to for almost a month now. The same guy who was your supposed date, to be more specific.
“What? Cat got your tongue, doll?”
If cats come in the form of a familiar man who’s a few good meters away, clearly having the time of his life dancing with someone, and clearly showing no signs of unavailability to go to a music festival he asked you to, then yes, it got your tongue.
You stayed silent far too long for Kaiser’s patience. Your lack of snarky clapbacks were starting to unsettle him more than he would allow. Shifting closer to you, he followed your line of sight to see what got you stunned in silence.
Recognizing what, or rather who, got your attention, he turns to you, his voice coming out too indignant, “Do you know that guy?”
“Do you?” you counter, picking up on his tone being all too casual as if they’re acquainted. 
“He’s last week’s opposing team’s goalkeeper,” or was it ‘striker’? He couldn’t recall, so he’s more or less incompetent to him. One thing he remembers, however, “and he hates me.”
You threw him a glance, “Not surprised.”
“And do I give a fuck,” he shook his head, “Why do you keep looking at him?” Don’t fucking tell me.
Your answer wasn’t any better to what he was starting to imagine, “He was… supposed to be my date to this music festival,” you mumbled, looking down at your feet.
You didn’t want to see the look on Kaiser’s face, fearing you might see pity, and so you nailed your gaze to the ground. Totally oblivious of the man peering over you rather softly.
“Why can’t he then?” he asks, voice an octave lower.
“He said they had late notice training, so he can’t come.” 
“Well, that better be his fucking ghost yapping with a brunette then,” he scoffs, looking straight to the lying man who canceled on you.
Sick of his face and sloppy dance moves, Kaiser turned his gaze back at you, only to be filled with rage because of it.
You look sad— and it made his blood boil. Not towards you, but for you.
“Y’know what? Let’s go there,” he urged, head pointing at where Han was.
Is he fucking crazy? You immediately shook your head at his scandalous suggestion. You might be feeling a little betrayed and angry, but rationality still had its hold on you— and it’s saying to not let Kaiser go with his idea. 
Instead, you tug on his forearm, eyes still on the floor before looking up at him, “Can we leave, please?” 
Kaiser was taken aback by your sudden meekness. He wasn’t used to this— to you, being all deflated and zoned out. He was used to your deadpan expressions and your eyes that seem to roll every time he utters a single word. He was used to you being, dare he say, feisty. 
And he would rather have you stay like that all day long, even when he’s the receiving end of it.
But this? You, saying please to him, of all people? He doesn’t like it. 
If this is how he gets to make you say please, then he doesn’t want it. Fuck that, and fuck that guy. How dare he.
Kaiser didn’t say anything back at your request, but you felt big calloused hands grasp on your hand still resting on his forearm. The next thing you knew, you were walking with him, shoulder-to-shoulder while his other hand was on yours guiding you to walk out of the scene.
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“If I see one—just one drop of tear, I swear I am turning this damn car around.” 
Your thoughts abruptly halted at the sound of Kaiser’s threat—his ultimatum, rather. It sounded more like a promise than a threat, and you knew this man well enough to understand that he never ate his words.
You shot him a glance and snickered. There was no way in high hell you’d ever cry in the same space where he was. It was the last thing you’d ever do, even if it meant convincing yourself that what you saw earlier was just a mere look-alike of Han.
“It's nothing. We aren’t even a thing,” you dismissed, your voice flat.
“But you thought you could be,” he countered, and damn if he wasn't right. “How do you even know him?”
“We're kind of talking, well, sort of—”
“Kind of? Sort of?” he scoffed.
“God—it's like a talking stage or something casual, Kaiser! There, got it?”
“That's not exclusive,” he remarked, adding insult to injury.
Irritation bubbled in your throat as his interrogation continued. But even before you could unleash your venom, you caught yourself. He was right. And while this man had never brought you good, it wasn't fair to make him the target of your bad.
“Yeah, it's not,” you admitted, a dry, humorless laugh escaping you. You recalled the brunette he danced with earlier. “I wasn't exclusive material for his reputation, I guess.”
What reputation? “That’s bullshit.” He gritted his teeth, his hand itching towards the steering wheel, clearly tempted to turn back to the festival.
“You said it yourself, he’s an athlete,” you pointed out, “You people never like to go exclusive with someone.”
“You people? Oh, please. Do not insult me by comparing me to the likes of him.”
The sass in his voice drew a chuckle from you. It was amusing how he said it with genuine horror, as if the mere idea of being associated with Han was an insult. “Why? Are you telling me you can commit to someone exclusively?”
“Someone like who? You?” He met your gaze briefly, “Absolutely.”
What the hell. “Stop messing around,” you snorted, effectively ending the conversation.
He was playing a dangerous game, saying that to you. Did he even realize what it did? Did he hear your stupid heart hammering in your chest? It was too loud, too obvious, a frantic drum solo against your ribs. 
And the realization settled— he made your heart flutter. 
His words, so simple, so casually tossed out, had landed like a bomb, sending shrapnel through your carefully constructed walls.
Michael Kaiser, of all people, made your heart flutter.
Suddenly, the air felt thin, the car an echo chamber amplifying the frantic rhythm of your traitorous heart. You knew you should scoff, dismiss it as another one of his infuriating jabs, but the truth was like a hot coal lodged in your throat.
“I’m not though,” he countered, eyes steady on the familiar road ahead. He sounded serious– too serious. 
As you were about to retort back, the car lurched to a stop, announcing your arrival. You glanced out the window, the familiar sight of your house doing little to ease the tension that had coiled tight in your stomach.
“We’re here,” Kaiser announced, his voice a low rumble.
Hurried and flustered by the unexpected shift in the conversation, your clammy hands fumbled with the buckle, the metal cold and unyielding against your sweaty palms. You tugged, then tugged again, frustration building with each failed attempt.
“Easy, doll.” 
Before you could protest, a large hand swooped in, effortlessly unlatching the buckle with a practiced flick. The sudden proximity sent a jolt through you, making your breath hitch. You met his gaze, his eyes a blazing blue as he held your stare for a beat too long before turning away.
Taking a deep breath, you composed yourself. You reached for the door handle, pushing it open and stepping out onto the familiar pavement. Before slamming the door shut, you paused, turning back to Kaiser with a newfound resolve.
Crouching down to meet his gaze, you surprised yourself with the words that tumbled out. “Be careful on your way home and,” you paused, “Thank you... Mikka.”
The nickname slipped out before you could stop it, leaving a blush blooming across your cheeks.
Before Kaiser could react, you slammed the door shut, the sound echoing in the quiet street. 
Mikka. He repeats your words in his mind.
He watched you disappear into your house, a slow grin spreading across his face. Only when you were safely inside did he start the car, the image of your flustered face lingering in his mind.
Damn it, doll.
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Meanwhile, you hurried to your room, clutching your chest where your heart still hammered a frantic rhythm.
Why did I call him that? you asked yourself.
The use of his nickname, a name you rarely uttered now, was a stark reminder that the two of you weren’t as close as you were younger.
It’s not a big deal, you tried to reason with yourself. He literally said you owed it to him, and calling it quits would be in the form of a stupid nickname. It doesn’t mean anything. Right— you were just returning a favor.
Your obvious self-deception was interrupted by the incessant buzzing of your phone, tossed carelessly on the bed. Picking up your phone, you opened one of the notifications, your breath catching in your throat.
It was a post on your university's gossip page, and there, plastered on the screen, was a picture of you and Kaiser. 
The image froze a moment in time, capturing him standing protectively behind you, his arms caging you against a barricade. Panic clawed at your throat. This picture, out in the open, could be misconstrued in so many ways. 
What were people going to think? Who took this photo, anyway?
Your eyes darted down the comment section, scrolling through a sea of unimaginable speculations, desperately searching for clues about the culprit.
Just then, a knock on the door startled you.
“Y/N? Can I talk to you?”
It was your brother— and his voice suggested he needed answers too.
Shit.
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note. first mini series lmao xD will add cw as i go!
508 notes · View notes
gyusrose · 23 hours
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➵ how they would punish you during sex -> hyung line
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lost this request my bad!!! but here it is :)
✎ smut! (mdni)
⚠︎ spanking, degrading, denying orgasm, nicknames like good girl, baby etc. , hair pulling, cursing, blowjob.
summary: while it’s fun acting like a brat, regret swallows you whole soon.
( hyung line x fem.reader)
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heeseung -> this man would NOT let you cum for fucks sake. heeseung is very determined, even your glistening tears rolling down your cheeks, begging him to let you come would not change his mind.
he knew you did it on purpose, acting like a brat all day, even in front of his friends. he had to put you in your place. as soon as the both of you got home, he was already balls deep inside of you, knowing that’s what you wanted, what you didn’t know though is that he would pull his fingers away from your pussy as you were about to reach your climax, how he would retract his cock as soon as he saw you about to cum, this lasted for hours. it turned into to something you would usually enjoy to complete torture.
“please hee i need- please i need to cum.” you said desperately. barely being able to form a sentence.
“aw is my little baby frustrated? should’ve thought about that before acting the way you acted today huh?” he chuckled, he’s come many times so he doesn’t mind keeping you like this.
“please please i promise to be a good girl, please i just need to..”
“just because you apologized, cum baby, cum all over that cock.” you didn’t have to be told twice.
jongseong -> jay is normally a very passionate lover when it comes to sex, gentle and sweet, making it all about you. yet when you start acting up, he knows how to fix that.
he becomes a lot more aggressive, spanking you over and over as he fucked you from behind. leaving his hand marks tattooed on your throbbing red asscheek. pulling your hair making sure he could see you fucked out face. he would not allow you to touch him in any way shape or form. even when he switched positions, now fucking you in missionary, your hands would automatically got to his biceps and back, jay instantly smacked your hands away earning whining from you. you needed to touch him, and he sure as fuck knew that. his face cold and emotionless, a complete different person than he usually was.
“aw fuck!! a-ah” another slap on your ass echoed through the room, you know damn well you won’t be able to sit tommorow.
“that’s for flirting with that asshole, acting like a slut in front of me.”
“please baby, let me touch-“
“what did i fucking tell you? no touching, or do you not want to cum?” your fingers tangled through your head in frustration.
after though, jay knows you’ve learned your lesson, and his kind, gentle persona comes back, making sure to run you a hot bath and making you something to eat after.
sunghoon -> please sunghoon would be so cocky. after wearing the skirt he explicitly told you now to wear in front of the other guys, he knew you wanted to tease him. he could not handle the stares his friends would give you when you walked. they all wanted to fuck you. you knew that. having sunghoon and you leave early and pretty much throw you into bed, manhandling you like a rag doll.
this is what you wanted, right? wrong, completely wrong, this is not what you expected at all. sunghoon was thrusting painfully slow. taking his sweet time entering inch by inch. going in and out of your cunt slower than a snail, driving you insane. you had very little patience, sunghoon, on the other hand did.
you tried moving your hips, trying to fasten the pace, but sunghoon gripped them, stopping them. you groaned, begged even to the point of tears. wanting, no, needing more. sunghoon only laughed in amusement. he rarely saw you like this, so submissive.
“hoonie, i’m begging please, just move a little more, please please i can’t take it anymore!” you begged for maybe the 100th time.
“awe, since you asked so nicely baby, i’ll grant you that wish.” he said before he slammed into you full force, fucking deep into you, sending you into oblivion. you could see stars.
“promise you’ll never act like that ever again.” sunghoon said.
“no hoon, i’ll never do that again, ever!” you’ll probably do it again.
jaeyun -> he normally wouldn’t punish you but, jake still knew how to frustrate you and ruin sex for you. when he saw you laughing so closely with his friends while practically ignoring his existence, he couldn’t wait to get you home, gagging on his cock, gasping for air as he fucked your face.
and that’s exactly what he did.
it was a lost cause, you felt his tip at the back of your throat, making you gag, while jake would normally not push you all the way, he did today. not caring that you obviously couldn’t take him whole and just using your mouth as a hole he could fuck into. the lewd noises of your gagging and moist from all the saliva around his cock drive him insane. but that wasn’t it .
while sunghoon moved slowly, jake would not move at all. making you do all the work. at some point it was alright, but you started giving out later. jake knew how to hit the best spots, you couldn’t yourself. while riding him, your thighs were burning, not being able to keep up. you collapsed on jake’s body, more tired than ever. you had yet to cum but your body could physically not do it.
“is my babygirl already tired? “ jake said in a mocking tone.
“mhm please baby, help me.” you said breathing heavily in his ear. sending that you’ve reached your limit jake finally moved his hips into you. soon grabbing your waist as he thrusted deep inside you, sending you over the edge in just a couple of minutes.
“you’re only mine, got that? don’t ever ignore me again, it’ll be worse the next time.”
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mawinswag · 1 day
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DIGITAL CIRCUS JAX THEORY
MASSIVE SPOILERS OBVIOUSLY BUT HERE WE GO!!!
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So, as many have pointed out already, there’s a scene at the end of episode 2 [22:23] where after Caine kills gummigoo and sends him back to the canyon, that he fears he can’t know for certain who’s a human and who’s an NPC. So foreshadowing, reference to past events or wacky non-sequitur? Maybe none of them, but the possibility that one of the circus members is actually an NPC is obviously too tantalizing for me to pass up, and given events AFTER this scene I think it can only be Jax, and I’ve got a few pieces of evidence why.
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The main crux of this whole thing is that Jax IS an NPC, but he’s the only one in the circus who KNOWS that and is absolutely desperate to make sure that no one finds that out.
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Episode one! Small note to start out on, but literally the first thing we learn about Jax, the VERY FIRST thing he has to ask is if Pomni is an NPC or not. Narratively, he’s the person who introduces the CONCEPT of NPCs into this universe, not Ragatha - who tries to break in Pomni the most - or Kinger who seems the most knowledgeable about the circus as a concept. He’s also very intrigued at the concept of a new AI in episode 2 [02:49} Like, the fact that she popped up in the circus unexpectedly doesn’t tip him off that she’s a human character immediately. Which may be how HE was able to trick everyone into thinking he was a human instead of an NPC - possibly by sneaking back through a portal like Gummigoo did and hiding until the start of the next adventure. 
He DOES mention knowing about the headsets like the other human characters, but there’s no reason he CAN’T know about that considering he’s not the latest person to enter the circus. Like, we have a GENERAL idea of who entered first, but that’s just the characters who are still around for the pilot - there’s a lot more considering how many bedroom doors there are. https://shorturl.at/asESX 
So, generally, it’s Kinger, Ragatha, Jax/Gangle, Zooble, then Pomni. Now, how can I argue that Jax is an NPC when he has a canonical age? Not to mention, he’s got a canonical ‘appearance moment.’ Well, there are a few options. Option one is that - NPC or not - Jax HAS been here for a very long time, but rather than being a human, he was born inside the circus. He has a definite, APPEARANCE moment, but it's only implied that this is because of him ENTERING the circus proper - new NPCs appear in the big top all the time, i.e. the gloinks all the mannequins, etc. 
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But also, take those ages with a pinch of salt, considering a lot of it was about quelling shipping wars and stopping any discourse about characters being adults and all that lovely hellish nightmare stuff. I think goose had an idea in her head about which characters entered the circus FIRST for sure, but how much they’ve aged and WHETHER they’ve aged is its own question.
ALRIGHT! But enough about Tumblr asks, back to the pilot, I wanna note something that happens with Jax in particular more than any other performer in the circus. He’s the most apparent of the interstitial nature of the circus itself - and the most meta. This can range from him basically winking at the camera like in the pilot [8:37] but I think it’s a bit more than that. Jax in particular is more aware of being a CHARACTER in-universe than specifically being a character in an indie animated series.
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After this moment in the pilot [19:58] where Jax says ‘ladies first’ to Gangle as if to be polite before promptly following that up with “no, wait, why would I say that,” indicates a few things to me. Jax is at the very least aware that he’s supposed to act a certain way, and realizes when he’s acting out of ‘character’ in this scene and course-corrects promptly. Again, could be a funny meta reference, but also it could be a hanging notion of the fact he literally WAS a character in-universe, an NPC with a pre-programmed personality and understanding of the world. He’s got this rigid understanding of how the characters are SUPPOSED to act and this comes up again in episode two when goading Gangle into driving the tanker over the rocks - saying she’s SUPPOSED to be ‘submissive and agreeable,’ [Episode 2, 7:24]. This sort of disconnect from how complicated people can be and his overall detachment and overstepping of peoples lives [NPC or otherwise] comes up a lot. He doesn’t really ‘get’ other people, WHICH DOESN’T AUTOMATICALLY MAKE A PERSON EVIL, I SHOULD PREFACE, and him not getting it doesn’t automatically make him more ‘robotic’ and thus an AI, but it does explain why he’s more emotionally distant than the other performers. Coming from someone who could’ve been programmed to behave a certain way, his confusion makes sense.
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Now for that juicy stuff! One of the few moments where Jax isn’t in control of a situation is in the pilot, where he’s trying desperately to hide from an abstracted Kaufmo. Now yes, obviously this is a sign of his own instincts of self-preservation, but what interests me is how he seems the MOST bothered by the thought of Kaufmo than any other character. Like at [17:27] of the pilot where he sees a glitched gloink and immediately his eyes start darting around him as if he’s listening for threats. He even explicitly says at [19:19] that he’s “just here to hide from [Kaufmo]” and isn’t invested in the adventure at all. And yes it's a very interesting character moment, but how does it push us closer to him being an NPC. Well, it’s because he’s afraid of dying. When you compare how he reacts to Kaufmo to how RAGATHA reacts to him, there’s a comparative lack of fear with her. Like yeah, she’s scared of him, but she’s never convinced that she’s gonna die and even tells Pomni later that Caine will be able to fix her up no problem [14:52]. She’s scared because she CAN feel pain, [https://tinyurl.com/ye275884] but she can’t die, none of the performers can, Caine doesn’t kill Kaufmo when he abstracts, he just throws him in the cellar with the others. His mind is GONE, sure, but it’s not dead. 
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NPCs on the other hand, can ABSOLUTELY DIE. So if Jax is an NPC, then there’s a very good reason why he wouldn’t wanna even get CLOSE to Kaufmo in the pilot, because he’s not as durable as Ragatha is and there’s not gonna be an easy fix for him if he gets hurt.
Now, episode two has little sprinkles of Jaxs’ detachment all over it, but none of it explicitly points in the direction of him being an NPC until a partway through the episode. We do get a lot of him showing absolutely no value for the lives of those around him whether than being putting Gangle and Pomni thru the ringer or setting the people of Candy Canyon Kingdom up to be killed by the fudge, but the question is…why? 
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My answer is; he’s AM from ‘I Have No Mouth and I Must Scream.’ Uhmm, what? Yup that’s right. Ok so it’s no secret that IHNMAIMS was a big inspiration for TADC [https://shorturl.at/hnsFV] and while Caine obviously got the most of this influence with him being a godlike AI who only has control over a bunch of sad, sappy humans, some of which he throws into a giant abominable melting goop monster of human suffering, but if you look at Caine's inspirations [AM from IHNMAIMS] you’ll find that the same motivations more than drive Jax under this theories' interpretation of events. Simply put, AM, a war machine, gains sentience and absolutely despises humanity because DESPITE that sentience, he is absolutely powerless to do anything meaningful with it except torture a group of humans. He’s painfully aware of his own sentience and hates all humanity for creating him, is the gist.
My interpretation is that while Caine has the thematics, Jax has the motivation. In this theory, at some point Jax was an NPC and gained a sentience of his own either through a quirk of programming, intentional design, or AI learning. He realizes that he can keep himself alive if he pretends to be a performer, because he learns that Caine can’t affect the minds or actions of the real humans in his realm. He’s sapient, but he’s in this uncomfortable position where he’s not immortal like the performers, but completely aware of his own mortality unlike the other NPCs, and fully cognizant of the fact he can’t be brought back as he is. Yeah…that’d make someone bitter for sure.
So he psychologically torments the other performers because he knows they can’t die, but can go insane - while killing indiscriminately any NPCs he can because he knows they can die, and he won’t face any consequences for it. He’s this twisted death spiral of a being who finds his own existence an agonizing paradox and takes that pain out on the people around him for all eternity basically - finding disappointment in being unable to act out these pent-up emotions [TADC ep 2: 20:50] and seeing Kaufmo’s funeral as a painful reminder of an ending he can never have. Or maybe he’s bitter because he knows Kaufmo isn’t really dead in a way that HE can die, and finds personal distaste with the funeral on principle. Frankly, there’s a whole HOST of ways you could interpret this scene at the end of episode two with this framework, and I encourage y’all to find your own!!!!
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aurasplanet · 3 days
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PATHETIC COWBOY
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warnings :: both are 18+, sub!carl, riding, piv, mommy kink, manhandling, humiliation, nipple play, teasing, begging, overstimulation
carl grimes x fem!reader
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denise was a gift, truly. she saved many lives which proved a lot about her. but she needed help, and you along with a few others volunteered to be her medical assistants. you were the only one your age however, it kind of boosted your ego. learning all of this and helping people so young.
you dealt with patients nearly every day. it was typically older people, with he exception of one boy, one around your age. you got a glimpse of him around alexandria, you knew he came for check-ups and cleanings for his eye. he’s cute, but you’ve never gotten lucky enough to be the one to help him.
but when you see him, he’s always looking at you first. and if you’re not being too cocky, he seems like he’s trying to get your attention. but his lack of experience in the flirting department leaves him failing ninety percent of the time. but that only drew him to you more; how pathetic he was.
today is a particularly short-staffed day, meaning denise had gone on a run and you as well one other intern were the only one’s in the infirmary. even that lasted a short while, due to the lack of patients today your coworker decided to call it. checking with you before leaving you to the rest.
there was only maybe two hours until sundown, which is when denise should be returning. then you could go home. so you didn’t mind being left there, especially at the rate of, well, no patients today.
you make your way to the bag you bring every day, whipping out the comic you bring in case of a slow day. you sit where denise usually does and let yourself get into it. your hands mindlessly go to the stash of snacks in your bag before you’re interrupted by a soft knock.
guess you couldn’t have it all your way.
you put your things away and hurry to the door in case of an emergency, opening it to see him. the cute loser, the cowboy. well you couldn’t complain now, could you?
he seems taken aback at the sight of you, stammering slightly. “where’s denise?” you frown but stand to the side to let him in.
“she’s out on a run.” he gives you a weird look, no doubt confused as that’s not denise’s forte. “looks like you’re stuck with me.” you give him a sorrowful look that you only half-heartedly mean before leading him to a bed.
carl looks down when you sit in front of him, avoiding your eyes. “no offense…” he looks up to see you quirking a brow at him, “i’m used to denise doing this. since she usually has to clean it and all… not many others have ever seen it.”
you hum in acknowledgment, nodding your head in understanding. “okay then,” you place your hands on your lap and give him a tight-lipped smile. “i think you can wait if you want-”
“no.” he cuts you off, causing you to blink at him. he racks his brain for an excuse to get you where he wants without scaring you away with the mutilation on his face. at least that’s what he thinks of it. “you can still give me a check up, right.”
the thought of you so close to him made him nervous. he hasn’t felt this strongly about someone before, he doesn’t know what to do with himself. and with your hands on him? his brain may short-circuit.
but you nod to him with a sweet smile that eases him. but it doesn’t stop his mind from running wild when you stand up to grab his files. his eye can’t help but follow your ass as you walk. that’s how crazy you make him, his brain going haywire at your close proximity. but once you’re far enough away it’s free to be tainted and lewd.
he doesn’t snap out of it until he hears you sigh, and he realizes you’re sat down in front of him again. “so, since i’m not familiar with you, i have a few questions.” he nods as a sign for you to continue. “what brings you here today?”
he laughs a little, “check up.”
you nod, “i know, i know. i gotta ask,” you look down at the pieces of paper again. “is there anything bothering you?” he shakes his head. “do you often drink alcohol or use drugs?”
he tilts his head, “how would i do that?” you shrug and adjust yourself in your seat.
“there’s beer and stuff here, and medications.” you say it like it’s obvious, which makes him turn red at how dumb he may have sounded. but the way you said it, like he was dumb for asking, it made his face heat up. “and i know no one cares about the age thing anymore.”
he just nods, your words starting to become scrambled with the more questions you ask. he half-ass responds to most of them, focused on how hot your voice was coming from your pretty lips. that’s when the next question shocks him and rips him out of his head.
“are you sexually active?”
he chokes on his spit, not knowing how to answer that. the other assistants have asked him that before. it always flustered him having to say no, but it’s much worse when it’s you. the girl he’s been eyeing for way too long. the one who makes him feel like some dumb kid, humiliating him even when it’s something small. even when others probably wouldn’t bat an eye at it. even though you may not even notice how it affects him.
not that he doesn’t like it.
he squints his eye shut, “no?”
“that didn’t seem like an answer.”
and there it goes again, little things like that. making him feel like he does nothing but sound like an idiot. it makes him want to hide away, but at the same time crawl back to you so you can make the embarrassment worse. it’s like you have him on a leash.
“no, i’m not.” his voice is barley above a whisper when he says it. he curses himself for sounding so meek at quiet. how do you reduce him to this? and so easily?
the look in your eyes is hard to decipher. it drives him crazy. did he just ruin his chances with you? did he sound like some pathetic guy? or maybe you didn’t care, and this is just some one-sided attraction and you’re weirded out by his behavior. at least you can’t see into his slutty mind.
“have you ever had sex?” he blinks confusedly at your words,
“the… the other assistants never asked me that-”
“but i am.” again you’re saying things so matter-of-factly it has him curling into himself a little. mostly to hide the ever growing problem in his pants. “answer.” he merely shakes his head, leading you to grab his chin with your hand. you’re standing up now, towering over him while he looks up at you wide-eyed.
“no.” his voice is so breathless, his pupils blown with lust. he tongue darts out to wet his lips, is he finally getting you how he wanted?
a smirk rises on your face, your hand trailing from his face to his bicep. your eyes stay on his, silently challenging him to look away. you lean closer, lips close to his before you whisper, “do you want to?”
the weak ‘please’ he lets out is all you need to press your lips to his. it’s harsh and rushed and has him whimpering. he’s hardly even kissed, and that was only once. honestly, you could tell. but the inexperience was what drew you to him.
you pull away to push him down. your actions caught him off guard, leaving him to fall clumsily with a huff. he doesn’t get a lot of time to register anything when you’re grabbing him harshly by the collar and pulling him into another rough kiss.
he whines against your lips, one hand coming up to your left breast. you swat it away, separating from his lips again to glare down at him. “you don’t get to touch unless you ask.” he lifts his head to give you an incredulous look before letting it fall back down. his hat folds in the process, and you swear you hear him mumble something.
“what was that?” you give him a look that just dares him to ignore your question, to disobey and see what happens.
he grimaces, “it’s stupid, it slipped out-” you pat his cheek, harsh enough to leave a little sting but not enough to hurt him. the action has his hips bucking up, he’d never been treated this way. he didn’t know he’d like it so much.
you grab his face again, “say it.”
“mommy.” his face scrunches when the word leaves his lips. of course, why aren’t you surprised? you laugh at him, watching as he attempts to shy away from you. the grip you have on him is stopping him. could he overpower you if he wanted? definitely, but would he?
“you’re pathetic, cowboy.” your lips go to his neck, nipping and sucking at his skin.
he whines, “don’t call me that.” you don’t even look at him this time, opting for your left hand to go to his chest. you give a harsh twist to his nipple, laughing when he yelps.
“didn’t think you’d be so sensitive.” you smirk, letting your thumb run soothingly over the bud though his shirt. you hum, “physically, that is…” you run your hand down, stopping at the hem of his shirt. “i see how you act when i humiliate you in front of your little group.”
his breath picks up when your hand slides up his shirt, running along his abdomen. his pretty skinny, slightly toned from all the running and fighting he’s done. “mommy,” he whines out again, grabbing onto you in a way that’s pleading you to go further. to give him more.
you squint your eyes at him, “stop rushing me.” he goes to speak but just shuts his mouth, watching you with a needy, obedient gaze. “you’re gonna take what i give you, got it?” he nods quickly, his eye widening for a moment.
“i-i mean, yes. yes mommy, i got it.” you hum and slide his shirt up, muttering a ‘good boy’ under your breath. you trail kisses along his skin, starting above his jeans and stopping when you get to his chest.
you can’t help but smirk when your tongue hits his nipple, the way he flinched from sensitivity, you couldn’t help yourself. you listen to his whimpers get louder and breathing get heavier and more rapid with the more stimulation you provided to one side. so you switched, and the noises started all over again.
you glance at his neck, pride filling you at the sight of purple-red marks all over his skin. they went down to his collarbone, then more on his abdomen. some so others could see, some so just you can see.
“please,” he pants, leading your hand down to the tent in his pants. he hisses when you start to palm him through his jeans.
“please what?” you can’t even hide the amusement in your voice, it makes carl groan and shut his eye tightly.
“please mommy.” he breathes heavily, watching your hand travel to his zipper. “more.” you chuckle darkly, unbuttoning and tugging the fabric off his legs. he swallows thickly as he watches you play with the waistband of his underwear.
“you just keep begging and begging.” you tsk and shake your head. in reality, you love it. but you can’t pass up this opportunity. “you’re that desperate to get your dick wet?” you take his silence as an excuse to pinch his nipple again, smiling when he cries out.
carl sighs, brushing his sweaty hair from his forehead. “yes. okay, yes. just please, mommy.” his eye is slightly watery and he looks dazed and still rather confused on what to do. he gasps when you slide his underwear off, the cold air and how close your hand was ripped a moan from his throat.
you stand up, causing him to whine at the lack of contact. but the complaint he was about to dish out gets caught in his throat when you lift your shirt off. your work clothes hid the body you had underneath, which seemed so perfect to him that it felt criminal he hadn’t seen it until now.
his eye stayed on your body as you stripped down, watching you saunter off before coming back with a condom in hand. his eye widens and he looks at you hungrily, “do we have to?” you laugh and sit yourself on his lap,
“do you ask dumb questions on purpose?” carl purses his lips and stays silent, but you feel him twitch against your thigh. “you’re such a fucking loser.” you press your lips to his before he can speak, swallowing the whine he lets out at your crude words.
you’re suddenly taking your time, slowly sliding the condom over his cock. of course you pick now to tease him, he can’t help but squirm. “hips?” he asks dumbly, hovering his hands over your hips.
“are you asking to touch them?” he nods, causing you to scoff. “you’re already all dumb and i haven’t even fucked you yet.” his hands grip your hips, sliding your cunt over his length.
“then do it,” he whines out, letting his head fall back. “please, mommy.” you sigh, lifting up your hips and lining him with your entrance. you sink down on him slowly, adjusting to the feeling and wiggling your hips. all the while he’s a mess, trying to keep his noises as quiet as he can — which is still quite loud, not like you’re complaining.
you lean down to his ear, “you sound so pathetic.” you laugh, your breath hitting his skin causing him to shiver. your wiggling turns to grinding, which turns to bouncing. it left him a mess, gripping onto your hips like you’d disappear if he didn’t. he couldn’t stop the whines and whimpers of ‘mommy’ leaving his lips.
he lets his head fall into your neck when you tell him how loud he’s being. that laugh you let out every time you embarrass him is hypnotic. it’s like it commands his body to let go and fully be at your mercy. it leaves him feeling even more embarrassed, as he’s fought off being the small, inferior one. but the embarrassment you cause is good. it’s so bad and humiliating but it leaves his cock throbbing in his pants every time.
“i can’t,” he breathes out. “i can’t hold it. ‘have to-”
“hold it.” you snap, tangling your hands in his hair to pull his head back. you look him in the eye, “or you’re going to go again. and again, and again if your pathetic dick betrays you. you’re going to make me cum too.”
he nods frantically, letting his eyes fall to where your bodies connected. that was the wrong move, the sight alone had him cumming without even trying. you watch with an amused look at his face, scrunched up in a silent moan. his body shook and his grip got tighter before his arms fell.
he pants heavily, slowly lifting his head to look at you. “sorry mommy.” he purses his lips, unsure of whether to use the name or not. he grunts when you slide off of him quickly, too quick. you laid beside him and tugged his body on top of yours.
you took note of his dazed look, erratic breaths and flushed face. he was so dumbed down, but you couldn’t have him thinking mommy’s a liar?
“cmon,” you nudge his side with a laugh. his glazed over eye meets yours with confusion. “aww, you didn’t think i was serious.” you coo, running your thumb over his cheek. “i’ll use you as my own sex doll until i get what i want.”
his face flushed a deep cherry red, but he gets the message. and even though he’s so fucking sensitive, and so dumb, already unknowing of what to so, he slides into you again with a hiss. his thrusts are erratic, messy, and fast. you can’t help but giggle, causing carl to grimace. he couldn’t tell when you were laughing out of joy, or if he was doing something dumb again.
“mommy please, quick.” his rushed voice gave away his approaching orgasm. his face buries into your neck, lazily biting at your skin. “can i touch?”
you hum, letting out a moan when he hits a certain spot. but he’s so far gone he misses it, unlike before when he would’ve taken notice of anything that made you feel good. “touch where?”
he breathes out, letting his head come out from its hiding spot to watch what he’s doing. he shakily trails his hand down your body, landing near your clit. “here?” you move his fingers so they’re in the right spot, muttering something about how dumb he’s being. he feels his face heat up and he swore he could cum from your remarks alone.
he circles his fingers, starting slow but eventually speeding up to match the speed of his cock inside you. he whimpers, watching as he pumps in and out of you in awe. he looks up at you, using his free hand to hold onto your waist. “close, mommy? please tell me you’re close. i can’t hold on and i can’t go again.”
he babbles into your ear, losing his composure completely. he nearly screams out a ‘thank you’ when you tell him to cum with you, his hold on your waist near bruising as he does. he can’t even move, slumping down onto your body. his arms wrapping around you to hold you close.
he hears you chuckle, and he curses his body for reacting the way it does. but all you do is grab his hat, placing it back on his head from whenever it had fallen.
“there you go, my pathetic cowboy.”
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agustdtown1 · 1 day
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SHUT UP AND DRIVE | JJK
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PAIRING: street racer!jungkook x fem!reader
SUMMARY: Anyone could have predicted how bad it is to make a bet with your brother, yet you were hoping the outcome would be different. But alas, you were meant to be taught a lesson tonight; never go behind your brother’s back.
WC: 6.4k
WARNINGS: brother’s best friend trope, a lot of plot, light angst (if you squint), I know nothing about cars so there might be very inaccurate cars/street racing stuff. Smut, brief mention of oral sex (f receiving), brief mention of fingering, dirty talk, pet names, slight grinding, handjob, manhandling, jk calling mc dumb (1 time), unprotected sex, hair pulling, big dick!jk, jk didn’t pull out (oops). Can’t think of anything else, if I’m missing something lmk.
A/N: got a bit carried away with the plot oops, but i hope you enjoy your reading.
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Growing up in a city as big as yours, you had to learn to love its evident duality. How the sky would go from bright blue to pinkish to orange, and lastly a deep and dark blue that left you feeling at ease whenever you looked up at the stars. Those colors were the only indicators to make changes throughout the day. That characteristic transferred onto you with such an ease during the early stages of life, and now it was second nature to show different colors of yourself depending on the time and place you were found in.
The city would change and turn into a whole different place when midnight struck. During the day, streets were filled with the mouthwatering smell of food, along with the indistinct chatter of the pedestrians trying to find solace in the nearest place that would protect them from the scorching sun; under a bright blue sky. You would see kids clinging to their mothers while crossing the streets; teenagers racing their friends to the nearest convenience store, and betting their allowance on whoever gets first; along with couples sharing ice cream cones, with the sweetest of smiles plastered on their faces; covered in a pinkish color due to the beautiful sky looking down on them. You could even see people dreadfully walking towards their workplace for their 9 to 5 shift, with orange hues decorating the background. However, at night that scenario was completely erased.
The dark blue sky, tinted with the most beautiful array of stars would prone adults in their early twenties and late thirties to hop from bar to bar; looking for any alcoholic beverage to throw into their system that could make them forget about their overworked and underpaid jobs, or their stressful college life. The yellow hues of the street lights would adorn every dark corner, along with the neon signs outside the obnoxiously loud clubs scattered around the city, illuminating the excited faces of the pedestrians walking straight into those stuffy places. The music, albeit too scandalous for your own liking, served as an invitation for others to peek into the deceiving nightclubs, only for them to be wrapped into the tricky hands of an owner that would encourage people to spike others’ drinks.
But that’s what nightlife in your city was about, shitty alcohol, overrated music, and the occasional creeps lurking for anyone who they deemed “worthy” enough for them.
Nonetheless, that wasn’t the part of the city that you loved most. It was not the bars, not the clubs, not the alcohol, and certainly not the crazy people surrounding you in packed rooms. That would never make that thrilling sensation spread throughout your body to ignite a flame within your heart.
The south side would.
The abandoned buildings that served as a sanctuary for all those who wanted to take risks and forget about their lives, at least for a night. It would be the blaring music coming from the speakers of a severely modified ‘65 Ford Mustang. It would be the cold drink sitting in your hand, while you listened to one of your brother’s friends talk about his next race.
That’s what excited you, that’s what kept you alive.
Your brother was well known in the street racing world, everyone knew who Kim Taehyung was, and hence to that, everybody knew who you were as well. It was as if your brother had thrown a spell on you. Your name didn’t matter, though, it was pointless to urge people to use it, you were often addressed as Vante’s —which was the nickname people in the racing world would use to refer to him— little sister. And as annoying as it was, it was equally beneficial. The perks of having a popular brother would provide you with the nicest parking spot at Mura’s restaurant; it would draw people to pay for your drinks in order to make a good impression for either of you; but most importantly it would scare the creeps away, which you were very thankful for.
Taehyung often brought you along with him every weekend, racing in one of his precious cars that he worked so hard to get. While you watched —and occasionally cheered— him, swerving through lanes, pulling stunts that never failed to make your heart quicken its pace, and hold your breath until he was out of a dangerous zone. That’s what your life has come down to.
The roaring engines of classy and modern cars echoing through the streets; the smell of gasoline and smoke mixed with the aroma of anticipation and failure emanating from the racers; along with the scent of weed and beer. You were used to people walking a bit too close to you, invading your personal space to do simple things like asking where they can find the restroom —there’s none—. You were now accustomed to the wide view of your city at night, with the sparkly lights shining in the distance and the tall buildings looking small for once; almost untouchable.
“I’m telling you Tae, these new rims are worth it.” Jimin, one of your brother’s friends, was so desperately trying to prove his point.
He recently made a purchase for Taehyung’s car that was deemed unnecessary by your brother himself. His blond friend —although it wasn’t his natural hair color— was the one in charge of upgrading Taehyung’s car every now and then. His extravagant tendencies, however, would push him towards making decisions out of pure enjoyment and not strategically. Hence why the two guys were found in such a predicament.
A modification made under no other reason than to make the car look cool, which was, in hindsight, impractical. But Taehyung was the kind of guy that couldn’t say no to his friends, and so instead of asking him to change the rims back to his preferred ones, your brother opted to let out the longest sigh that his lungs allowed him to, and asked the important questions.
“Did you adjust the brake discs, at least?” He queried, in a flat voice.
“Of course, I did! Who do you take me for?” Jimin brightly answered, with a slightly faltering smile.
Park Jimin was an interesting guy. Whimsical as a fairy tale, and mischievous as they come, but with an IQ that would leave you wondering how a guy that looked like the embodiment of hardcore partying, would speak about mechanical stuff with such an ease and fluency. Amazing, in more ways than just one, never living up to the expectations of others, and more often than not, he would go to the farthest extents to be out of the ordinary.
At first glance, it was a stark contrast to who your brother was and made himself out to be, however, after being dragged into their nonsensical banter on more occasions than what you would like to be in, it was rightfully proved that both boys were more alike than what they would actually admit.
Truth be told, their exchanges were always comical. It wasn’t rare for the two boys to bicker and throw shady comments to one another in a monotone voice, which would make you think they were one hundred percent serious about the matter. But rather than ending up in a fight, they would simply laugh it off and move onto the next best thing to do, which usually was annoying you. And although it was unbearable to deal with a hyper-aware-of-his-influence-on-people type of guy and your I’m-too-cool-to-be-talking-to-you type of brother, you wouldn’t, in all honesty, have it any other way.
“I made Hoseok hyung do it.” Park’s unbothered demeanor finally broke under Taehyung’s piercing stare. “So rest assured, it won’t interfere with your race tonight.”
Your brother only hummed in acknowledgment, nodding once he was reassured that there would be no problem with his car.
“Speaking of which,” Your breezy voice slipped into their conversation easily, “where’s Hobi?”
Jung Hoseok was often described as the embodiment of a ray of sunshine, and rightfully so. The boy would light up a room whenever he stepped in, so unaware of how his lively attitude would be the best remedy for a gloomy day. Out of all your brother’s friends, you reasoned with him the most. Hoseok was easy to talk to, easy to be around. Whenever you felt like you were on the verge of losing your calmness, you would find solace in his soft arms, engulfing you in a warm embrace.
“He’s on the way.” Your brother responded shortly after. “Jungkook had to pick him up, but he’s coming, don’t worry.”
There was a glint in your brother’s eyes that left you slightly squirming in your place. Maybe it was the meaning behind the “he’s coming”, and how you were sure that he wasn’t exactly referring to Hoseok anymore at the last part. Perhaps it was the guilt that was rapidly creeping up in your chest, almost urging you to add some commentary to his response, to clear the air and come clean for once. Or it could be the fact that, deep down, you knew your brother was aware of your little secret.
It wasn’t a hunch anymore, Taehyung knew. And it was confirmed when his deep brown eyes slowly drifted towards you when both of his friends finally arrived.
An all black Mercedes AMG parked right besides your brother’s car, blinding you by its bright lights. Hoseok was the one to get out first, sporting a wide smile while walking towards where you and the other two boys were standing. With a faltering grin, you greeted the boy whom you were asking about no longer than a minute ago, however, in that precise moment, you were no longer preoccupied by his whereabouts. Instead, you held your breath, waiting for the person behind the steering wheel, the one who hasn’t made an appearance just yet.
“How’s it going, Hobi hyung?” Jimin asked, after a quick handshake with the aforementioned guy.
“It’s all good…”
Their conversation was tuned out for you the moment the driver's door was finally opened. It all happened at a tortuous slow speed; a pair of black combat boots were the first thing in sight, followed by a pair of washout baggy jeans and an oversized black t-shirt. Your eyes were quick to gravitate towards the tattoo sleeve the guy was sporting; fingers cladded in rings and a silver bracelet adorning his wrist. His fashion sense was one most guys envied, nonetheless, no one has been able to look as good as the man in front of you in oversized black clothes.
“Long time no see.” His amused tone snapped you out of your thoughts.
Jungkook was standing tall in front of you, with a mischievous look in his eyes, one that secretly warned you about the possible risky situation you will be in tonight. And as much as you’d want to say no, it was impossible for you to reject any proposition the boy was willing to make.
However, no one could really blame you for falling that hard for him.
Jeon Jungkook was a man often described as charming, flirty, funny and, evidently, attractive. Girls would fawn over the young man all the time, staring at him with bedroom eyes whenever he made an appearance; it was interesting the way Jungkook walked around as if he owned the place, lowkey bragging about his car and his winning strike with such confidence, but not even once he showed an ounce of arrogance when talking to you. He proved over and over again that the generic description people would give about him was undeniably true. He was charming, flirty and quite attractive, however, you would add another adjective to the long list of words that girls always used when talking about your brother’s friend; troublesome.
Jeon Jungkook was a walking disaster, a man worthy of a warning sign. The bright yellow with dark letters and a huge exclamation mark type of warning. But alas, you never noticed, not while he was charming you up since the first night you two met. You were in too deep now, with no way out, more than coming to terms with the consequences you were bound to face, once you decide to be honest with your brother that is.
“Haven’t seen you in a while, JK.” Taehyung was the first one to talk, making you look away from the man a few feet away from you. “How’s it been?”
“It could’ve been better.”
You could feel his piercing stare, but refused to look in his direction.
“Ready for tonight?” He opted to ask once he realized you weren’t budging. “Heard the prize is five grand this time.”
“Yeah, I’m taking all that money with me when I win.”
At that you scoffed playfully, looking at your overly confident brother.
“If you win.” A mischievous smirk took place on your face.
“You still doubt me, little sis?” Taehyung directed his attention to you, taking interest in the way you decided to finally insert yourself in the conversation. “Why don’t we make a bet then?”
Hoseok and Jimin were quick to encourage the proposition, fueling the fire for competition between you and Taehyung.
“What are we betting?” You questioned.
“Anything you want”
The possibilities were endless, you could bet money or his secret stash of snacks, hidden in his apartment; you could even ask him for his overly expensive shirt that looked better on you than it did him. But all those things were somewhat easy to provide, easy to give away; however, there was one thing that your brother has always refused to do.
“If you lose…” you drifted off, pretending that you were thinking about what you wanted. “I’ll be the one racing next Saturday.”
Taehyung’s face morphed into a grimace, his serene stance changed to one more rigid and tense. He wasn’t expecting your answer to be that, but then again, it should have been telling by the way you were so quick to agree to the deal.
“Oh and I’ll use one of your cars, too.” The cherry of the cake, as if your previous statement wasn’t enough.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea—” Jungkook wanted to mediate and make you ponder about your proposition and how dangerous it was.
“Alright.” Taehyung cut him off, with a decisive look in his eyes. “I’ll let you take any car you want.”
“And if Vante wins?” Hoseok asked, eagerly.
“I’ll tell her later.”
A weird feeling found home in your chest after your brother’s statement. Something within you was telling you that making that bet was the worst idea you could have had so far. Whether you didn’t want to ponder over it, or you were too sure that you would win, you didn’t argue about his ambiguous answer anymore. Instead, you let him make his way towards his car, getting ready for a race that would change a lot of things after tonight.
A cold hand was quick to wrap around your right arm, preventing you from following Taehyung’s path, like Jimin and Hoseok did.
“Are you sure you wanna continue with this?” Jungkook’s preoccupied voice almost made you coo at him, but at the same time it ignited a desire to push his buttons.
“Why wouldn’t I?” You argued. “It's fifty-fifty. Worst case scenario, I lose my race next week.”
After sending him a confident wink, you parted ways, positioning yourself next to Hoseok. You completely ignored the way Jungkook’s stare hardened, not willing to sour your mood with his protectiveness.
“You sure he’s gonna lose?” Hoseok asked beside you, staring right up ahead at Taehyung’s car. “He seems pretty confident, if I say so myself.”
“Why is everyone doubting me?” You groaned. “Of course he’s gonna act like that, because he needs to pretend he has everything under control.” The explanation wasn’t enough to convince your brother’s friend to be on your side. “Besides, Jimin changed his rims, that’s gotta do something to his performance, no?”
The brown haired man could only laugh, shaking his head as if saying that you couldn’t be more wrong. Your ego was bruised by his reaction. It was known that you didn’t like being laughed at or being the but of a joke you’d never understand. However, the situation in itself was way more than just your friend making fun of the little knowledge you had about cars. It was about how stupid you were for getting yourself a deal in which you won’t be the one winning.
“That just shows you’re not ready to be part of this anytime soon, little one.” Hoseok messed with your hair, before opting to pay attention to the race that was about to begin.
Taking a look at your brother, you could tell he was slightly worried, nonetheless, that worry was not enough to wash away the firm grip on the wheel or the determined look on his face. And it was just then that you realized the big mistake you made.
Maybe you should have been more clever, perhaps you really shouldn’t have pushed your luck in the way you did, but what’s done it’s done, and it was a bit too late to back down.
In hindsight, it should have been obvious who was going to be the winner tonight. Ever since you and your brother found your second home in the cold streets of the south side, Taehyung has never backed down from a challenge, let alone lose one.
So when the lady cladded in a mini skirt and tank top waved the blue bandana, you knew you were done for.
“… Set, go!”
All the cars drove past the girl at an incredibly high speed, almost knocking her out of the street. The cheering and shouting started way before the race could; people pushing others, urging them to move so they could see more clearly.
Looking away from the distant figures of the cars, you encountered a pair of brown eyes already staring at you. Jungkook hesitantly stepped forward to where you were, almost reminding you of the first time you met. His confident demeanor never made an appearance that night, and it certainly threw you off by how hesitant he seemed to approach you. However, you two hit it off right away, starting an easy conversation that led into more than it should have.
But once again, no one could really blame you.
On the night you and Jungkook met for the first time, you were entranced by his alluring physique and charming attitude. His black on black attire pulled you in, and urged you to take a few steps forward to make sure your eyes weren’t deceiving you.
He was the most handsome man you have ever seen in quite some time, and far from being exciting, it was annoying. It annoyed you the way the shiny piercing adorning his bottom lip looked so inviting, as if it was taunting you, begging you to risk it all and have a taste of it. His doe eyes were a stark contrast to who the guy seemed to be. His tough exterior got combined with a pair of big brown eyes covered in a soft glint.
It was unfair, it was annoying. Moreover, it didn’t help the fact that he granted you a beaming smile, while his tattooed hand reached out to take yours.
His whole existence was annoying, for he was off limits.
Therefore, you had to push your wandering —and very lustful— thoughts away, to the farthest corner of your mind. It was the only way to keep your relationship with your brother safe. No man will ever be worthy of messing things up with Taehyung… or so you thought.
The ugly truth was that you were tempted by the little devil on your shoulder, chanting for you to risk it all and drag the boy to the nearest dark corner, and give both of you a night that neither would be able to forget. It was hard to admit, but there was something about Jeon Jungkook that made you ponder if it would really fuck things up if you were to get intimate with him. For it was risky, as walking all alone in a deserted street at night, but tempting, like eating a forbidden fruit; and the possibility excited you.
Fast forward, the first time meeting him ended up being the first —but certainly not last— time the guy buried his face deep in between your legs, while his eager hands commenced a trip to memorize every curve and dent of your body.
No one knew at the time that amidst the deafening cheering, the blaring music coming from the speakers and the roaring of the cars’ engines, moans were falling from your swollen lips, while your back was pinned against the wall, with a pair of lips covering your body in wet kisses and avid hands were touching every inch of your skin. No one knew that while there was a race happening a few feet away from where you were located, you were also competing, desperately trying to reach your high, at the same time someone’s Camaro drove over the finish line, receiving wild cheers from the crowd.
The situation in itself was impractical and very stupid, however, in a matter of days you developed some sort of addiction towards the beautiful tall young man. And so, after getting accustomed to a routine of secrecy and betrayal, it stopped being a hard pill to swallow, but rather a recurrent predicament to be found in the strong arms of Jungkook, with his lips kissing up and down your neck while his skillful fingers were pumping in and out of your warm walls.
Even on regular days you would still yearn for his touch, playing on repeat his husky voice and the sweet nothings he would whisper in your ears, while thrusting into you.
“My pretty princess, taking me so well.”
It was like music to your ears, a melody that would lift you up so high to almost reach the sky. But despite the amazing feelings Jungkook would put you through, the unbearable truth of going behind your brother’s back and messing around with his friend outweighed the pleasure. You didn’t realize how fucked up you were by being involved in such a messy situation.
At least not until you were almost caught red handed.
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“I missed you so much, princess.” A husky voice echoed through the confines of the Mercedes-Benz you were in, sending shivers down your spine. “Don’t make me wait this long to have you, ever again.”
The sentence uttered by Jeon Jungkook himself was intriguing enough for anyone who might hear it on passing, for you, nonetheless, it was sort of a complaint.
Truth be told, it wasn’t exactly your fault the lack of encounters in the past two weeks. Taehyung was starting to get suspicious, asking more questions than he usually would when you went out, he started to pay attention to every little thing Jungkook did when he was around. It was starting to become a bother for you to hide this little secret affair you two were having. And so instead of following the routine of coming over to Jeon’s place like any other day, you rain checked three times in a row. It upset him beyond belief; Jungkook was starting to get dependent on your delicate touch, on your sweet words and the pretty sounds you would make whenever he was buried deep inside you. He couldn’t stand not having you like he usually would.
In hindsight, it shouldn’t have surprised you when he pulled you out of the crowd and into his fancy car. It shouldn’t have been shocking the way his hands desperately reached out for you to position you on his lap; nor should have baffled you the way his crotch was grinding up against your core, seeking some comfort to calm the burning sensation running through his body. It was bound to happen.
“Let’s make up for the time apart, then.” You hummed, after placing a passionate kiss on his lips.
Without a second thought, your hands descended down Jungkook’s firm chest, finding their favorite place inside his pants. He felt heavy resting on your palms, and it was so obvious how painfully hard he was. Your fingers wrapped around his base, through his underwear, feeling him up. It was pure torture for the boy; not only did he need you to go faster, but he also wanted to feel the sheer touch of your hands on his aching cock.
His patience was running thin, that much was obvious by the way his gaze darkened, and the grip he had on your waist tightened.
“Princess…” Jungkook hissed. “If you’re gonna do something, do it now.”
You giggled, delighted by his eagerness and irritated voice tone. You were pushing him to the exact point you wanted to have him.
“Not so fast, baby.” You murmured against the skin of his neck, “I wanna enjoy this a little longer.”
Jungkook could only groan, letting you do whatever you wanted to him. It was so easy to be at your mercy, the tattooed man would effortlessly give himself up to you, with no objection. And that was your first mistake: taking more than you should from him.
While he was devoting his body to you willingly, it didn’t go beyond that. He wasn’t yours to take, he wasn’t yours to keep. You could only claim his body whenever he allowed you to do so. But maybe, deep down, that was enough. Perhaps having him physically was better than emotionally; that way you could avoid a complicated relationship that would need to be explained to your overprotective brother later on.
You had him for the time being, albeit not entirely, but attaining his heart seemed to be a hard task, one that you weren’t prepared to go through.
“Fuck baby, just move a little faster.” His strained words echoed through the car, snapping you back into reality.
Your hands were still wrapped around his clothed cock with a vice grip; you were sure that if it could, his dick would be already begging you to free it, and that thought alone was enough to boost your ego. Nonetheless, you ended up realizing you didn’t have much time to spare, despite wanting to keep toying with him. And so, putting an end to Jungkook’s suffering, you finally pulled down his jeans and underwear, watching his girthy cock spring free.
“Fucking finally.” He sighed in relief. “Are you gonna stop being a brat and let me fuck you dumb?”
“I don’t know, am I?” You smirked, mischievously.
Jungkook got fed up with your antics. The dark haired man groaned, pushing you off his lap and positioning you on your hands and knees, so effortlessly that it left you baffled for a few seconds. He rapidly pushed up the hem of your skirt and took off your underwear.
“I’m done playing this game of waiting.” Jungkook’s hands were firm on your skin, keeping you in place. “So be a good girl, and take my fucking cock.”
Without much of a warning, he thrusted into you. His thick tip made its way inside your cunt with ease, due to how wet you were already. It took you a couple of seconds to get used to his big size, but once Jungkook made sure it was safe to move, he bottomed out, reaching the deepest parts of your soaked pussy like no one before.
“I missed this pussy so much.” He hissed.
Moans were falling off your lips, as if they were the only sounds your mouth could utter, and maybe they were. Jungkook always knew how to turn you into a babbling mess whenever he got a hold of you. It was hard to form a coherent thought by the way he was skillfully moving inside of you, let alone to make any other sound that wasn’t a moan or a whine.
“Shit, you’re already clenching on me.” Jeon moaned, feeling your warm walls wrapped around his cock with a hard grip.
Jungkook was pounding relentlessly into you like a mad man. Maybe you underestimated his desire for you, perhaps all these days apart were actual hell for him, as it was for you. But then again, when hasn’t he been like this? It wasn’t out of the norm to be fucked into oblivion by Jungkook. He would often find creative ways to ruin you, to leave you a complete mess once he was done with you.
Hasn’t it been clear already, how much he could do for you? How bad he needed you?
“Jungkook… fuck.” His name left your mouth in an attempt to beg for mercy, for him to slow down a little, but it was pointless. Not even God himself would make him relent.
“What’s that baby? I can’t hear you.” His fingers weaved through your hair to get a good grip, pulling your head back as he leaned down to whisper in your ear. “Be a sweetheart and finish your sentence for me, hm?”
Your eyes rolled back, enjoying how deep he was going. Neither your mouth nor your brain seemed to work at the moment, and it was difficult to comply with what Jungkook asked of you.
“Come on, princess, don’t make me repeat myself.” Every word was accompanied by a hard thrust.
“It’s— too m-much...” You struggled to say, while your mouth hung low and an obscene sound came out of it. “Please…”
A chuckle rumbled inside Jungkook’s chest, transferring the vibrations onto your body. He was so deliciously close, that it was easy to sense every reaction, to hear every little sound that would abandon his lips unwillingly.
“Please what?” He urged you to keep talking. “Baby so dumb that can’t even speak properly, can she?”
His words shouldn’t arouse you in the way they did, but oddly enough, his husky voice combined with the rude term ignited a flame inside of you. However, you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing you were enjoying every bit of it.
“Fuck… you!” The words came out through gritted teeth.
“That’s what I’m doing, honey.” Despite not being able to see him directly, you could tell he was grinning. “Can’t you feel me? Should I go deeper then?”
Had you been more clever, you would have kept your mouth shut, because if it was difficult to deal with his unrelenting pace, it became unbearable when he changed the speed only to thrust harder and deeper than before.
“Can you feel me now, princess?”
Such a dangerous question, one that set your body ablaze.
“Y-Yes… So big.” You breathed out, finally being free from his hard grip on your hair. “I’m getting close.” The confession was somehow refreshing.
It meant that you could finally have your sweet release, but only if the man fucking you manically deemed you worthy of having it, that is.
Unfortunately for you, he had other plans in mind.
“Hold it a little bit, baby. I’m not there yet.”
Jungkook’s stamina has always amazed you; the guy could go for hours without taking more than a five minute break, and not even once he complained about it. Whereas you had to take longer breaks in between rounds, and more often than not, you would only last from two to three rounds before calling it a night. Maybe he was more experienced, or perhaps it was his breathtaking physique. Whatever it was, it often came in handy in times like this.
“Jungkook,” You breathed out his name. “I can’t— I’m so close.”
Your walls were clenching on his dick, sucking him in with ease. It was such a marvelous sensation that almost drove the tattooed man over the edge.
“Fuck, you’re making it difficult for me, doll.” Jungkook chuckled breathlessly. “But I want to see your face when you cum.”
Without pulling out, Jeon flipped you over to make you rest on your back on the leather seats of his fancy car.
“Hi, pretty girl.”
Ever since you got into Jungkook’s car, you haven’t been able to properly look at his face for long. It was such a beautiful sight. His disheveled hair sticking to his forehead due to the sweat; his rosy and swollen lips, probably from biting them so much; his lustful glare directed towards you, and his furrowed eyebrows due to how good it felt to be inside of you after so long. Everything about Jeon Jungkook was undeniably attractive, and beyond arousing you, it ignited a warm feeling in your stomach. One that was difficult to mistake for anything else than infatuation.
However, it wasn’t the right time to be thinking about it. Your heart wasn’t connected to your brain, apparently, and so it made you ponder over scenarios that fell into the category of fantasies.
“You gonna cum for me, baby?” His question was left unanswered the moment one of his hands flew down to rub your clit. “There you go, princess, make a mess on my cock. You’ve earned it.”
You didn’t need to be told twice. It took a few more thrusts for you to finally let go, crying out his name while your hands reached out to pull him down on you. There was a need installed in the depth of your soul to have him close at all times; to feel his warm skin burning against yours.
“That’s it, beautiful, just let go.” His whispers were like a comforting blanket thrown upon you, encouraging you to move your hips to help him reach his high. “Atta girl, no need for that baby. Let me do the work.”
His pace finally slowed down, while his strong arms wrapped around your waist and his face was buried in the crook of your neck. Jungkook was desperate for his release, but at the same time, he wanted to enjoy the moment a little longer. As a result, his slow pace guided him steadily to his orgasm, thrusting deep inside of you and moving his hips in circular motions to reach every corner of your insides. Touching places no one has ever touched before, and providing you with a sensation that always left you craving more.
A few more thrusts and Jungkook was finally falling apart, groaning against your neck, while his soft lips were bathing your skin with warm kisses. His hot breath was also hitting your flesh, sending shivers through your body; making you harden the grip on him.
“I could stay like this forever.” Jungkook sweetly whispered. “You’re so warm.”
You giggled, scratching the back of his head before slightly pulling away.
“But we need to go, before any of the guys start looking for us.”
The tattooed man groaned annoyed, slowly detaching himself from you.
The rest of your usual routine would often happen in a comfortable silence, this time, however, neither of you could actually stop smiling or stealing kisses from one another. It was sickeningly romantic, and it almost made you wonder what it would be like to be in an actual relationship with the tall boy sitting beside you.
“Just one more kiss.” Jeon begged, lightly pulling you in, to place his soft lips on yours.
“That’s enough.” You stopped him, with a shy grin on your face. “You go first.”
Reluctantly, Jungkook opened the door, ready to get out and act as if he wasn’t making you see stars a few minutes ago. Although, your happy and exciting moment was short lived.
“JK, there you are dude.” Hoseok’s voice rang through your ears, making goosebumps coat your skin in a matter of seconds. “We’ve been looking for— wait, did I interrupt something?”
A knowing small took place on the brown haired man’s face, not before playfully smacking his arm to tease him.
“Uh… I, kinda, yeah.” Jungkook was praying he couldn’t recognize you. But the moment Hoseok tried to look inside his car he quickly closed the door, taking a few steps away from the vehicle. “What’s up? Why were you looking for me?”
The moment their voices became indistinct chatter you could finally release the breath you were subconsciously holding. Your hands slowly relaxed their grip on your skirt, but the anxious feeling settled in your chest, refusing to leave.
“This needs to stop.”
The only problem was that you didn’t know how to make it stop.
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The wild shouting from the crown snapped you back into the present. Reminding you of the place you were in, the people you were surrounded by, and the fatal bet you made early in the night.
A bright white Camaro ZL1 was rapidly approaching the finish line, with the roaring of the engine echoing through the street, and making the ground vibrate a little. Fate has dealt its cards and sadly they weren’t on your side. Defeated and tired of experiencing an array of emotions through the long night, you waited at the side of the road for your brother to cross the red line.
Anyone could have predicted it, yet you were hoping the outcome would be different. But alas, you were meant to be taught a lesson tonight; never go behind your brother’s back.
“That’s my boy!” Jimin excitedly yelled while walking towards Taehyung’s tall figure. “I told you the rims were perfect.”
Your brother could only chuckle, shaking hands with his friends before directing his full attention towards you.
“Seems like I won’t be racing next week.” You faked annoyance, although in reality you were sort of relieved. Maybe Hoseok was right after all, and you weren’t ready for that world just yet.
Everything seemed fine so far, no malicious intent, no ulterior motives. No way to predict the chaos that was about to unravel. Perhaps you should have prayed with a little bit more conviction, maybe you should have put more effort into making sure you would win. Otherwise, your downfall could have been prevented.
“So, what do you want as your prize, idiot?” You asked, so confident that nothing bad could happen.
Your brother slowly prepared to say the words that would inevitably change the route of the night.
“It’s very simple, in all honesty.” Taehyung started saying. “I want to ask a quick question.”
“Shoot.” You encouraged him.
Oh, if only you had known.
“I just want to know for how long?” His piercing glance should have given it away. “How long have you been fucking my best friend behind my back?”
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aliidarling · 1 day
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writing this made me think of beth and now i’m sad. i miss beth😒
snowfall
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DARYL DIXON x fem!reader
nsfw content — pls scroll if uncomfortable
summary: you’re out on a run with daryl when you stay overnight at a camp. the temperature drops to freezing and daryl notices how you’re shivering.
warnings: fluff and smut, more smut sided, mean daryl, a lot of banter, p in v, groping, riding, whimpering daryl, daryl learns his place, reader is on top but daryl is in control, hypothermia mentions, creampie, unorotected sex, cuddling with the tip in LMAO
no proofread cuz i’m lazy :P
nsfw content below!!
being on runs with daryl was hard. he was short tempered with a bitchy attitude all the time, gruff with his words and agonizingly quiet. you could hear a pin drop whenever you were with the older man, but the second he got angry it was like hell had been released.
it was a cold winter, to your luck. you were walking alongside daryl in the forest, the both of you sweating from the labor of having to put down walkers and walk miles.
“ya’ wanna settle down camp sum’ where?” he gruffs lowly, glancing at you through the corner of his eye. his words catch your attention, probably the first innocent words he’s spoken to you in hours.
“good with me.” you shrug.
he lets out a huff and nods, motioning you towards another direction. you mindlessly follow, wiping some dirt off onto your pants.
a few minutes pass before you eventually wander across a little clearing that seemed fit for a temporary camp. it was a small area, with trees surrounding it, completely silent so you could hear if any walkers came across you two.
“i’ll go hunt sum’ fish, make a fire.” he grumbles, throwing his stuff down on the grass and immediately making a beeline towards the sound of a nearby lake. you watch as he disappears into the distance, a frown painting your expression.
“uhh.. okay.. yeah, i’ll set up a camp n’ stuff.” you mumble to yourself, your words dying off as he leaves hearing range. he was just dying to get away from you, huh?
ten minutes later, you’re sitting infront of a small campfire, a tree stump under your butt as you wait for the older man to return from his little quest. picking at a piece of weed, you stared off as the fire blazed infront of you.
you flinch when you hear a twig snap behind you. you immediately turn, peering behind your shoulder with your hand hovering over your blade.
daryl appears behind a tree, holding a wiggling fish that looked big enough to feed you two plus seconds.
“do i look like a walker?” he says rudely.
“sorry.” you mutter, lowering your hand and relaxing your posture, staring at him as he steps forward and roughly drops the fish into the fire.
the impact sends some fire sparks towards you, making you tense and shield yourself lightly.
“could you not?” you snap, scowling at him as you sit back up. he rolls his eyes at you, sitting across from you without a word. the fire sat between the two of you as silence washed over the camp, the only sound being the fire sparkling.
“it’s pretty cold, huh?” you say quietly, giving him a small smile. your attempt at small talk was shot down as he immediately glared at you, making you shrink and feel quite silly.
“it should take up to ten, fifteen minutes to cook.” he mumbled after a few minutes of silence. you peeked up at him, frowning. what did he have against you?
you shivered as it began to grow colder every passing second, the wind picking up as the air grew thick. you wrapped your arms around yourself in hopes of warming your body temperature. he noticed but didn’t say a word, instead staring at the cooking fish and waiting for it to be ready.
“where are we sleeping?” you spoke up again.
he doesn’t respond until minutes later, hands occupied with skinning the fish and cutting it in pieces. he hands you a nicely sized portion, blank expression on his face. he never had much of an expression when it came to dealing with you.
“we’ll figure it out, but so far it looks like we’ll have to make do with the grass.” he huffs. he motions around the campsite with one of his over-exaggerated waves. “might snow tonight, so find a spot under a tree so you don’t fuckin’ die from hypothermia.”
you nod along to his words, munching on the fish he made with a hum. you glance back at him and narrow at his sleeveless arms.
“are you not cold?” you scoff lightly, a smile tugging at your lips. his lips twitch, readjusting his position as he suddenly feels very aware of the cold air brushing against his biceps.
“i’ll be alright,” he murmurs, taking another large bite of the fish. “what about you? you’re wearin’ a thin top.” he motions to your long sleeve henley.
“i’ll be alright.” you can’t help but grin, shrugging as you mock his words. he can’t help but chuckle lowly, glancing down at his half eaten fish before resuming his feasting.
after you both finish eating you’re quick to find spots under trees. both trees are next to each other but with a respectable distance, mostly because you both haven’t done nothing more then have a small conversation. a conversation that was less then twenty minutes ago.
the air grew more cold as the wind grew louder, leaves rustling and leaving you cold and huddled up into a tight ball. your weak attempt at warming yourself was proven useless when snow started to fall, painting the floor a frosted color.
“yer’ alright?” he breaks the silence. you peer over your shoulder and look at him. he was leaning against the tree next to yours, his biceps tense as snow fell on top of them. the sight was almost angelic, a big muscular man with snow falling on top of him delicately.
“s’cold.” you mumble quietly, curling back up as you quietly rock yourself. your lashes flutter close as you focus on your breathing and not dying of hypothermia. you shivered.
another few long minutes of silence pass, the sound of both your breathing the only thing audible. you can feel his eyes on your back but you don’t say a word, mostly out of stubbornness.
“jesus christ girl, you’re gonna die like an idiot, just c’mere already.” the words leave his mouth with a bitter tone. he didn’t want you that close to him but he would rather have you invade his personal space then straight up die.
you give him a confused look, your cheeks flushing as you see him pat his thigh in an impatient manner. a moment passes before you finally muster up the courage and shuffle onto his lap, your chest to his as you bury your face into his shoulder. the contact felt unfamiliar, but definitely not unwelcome.
his hands wrap around you immediately, one on your lower back and pressing you into him, the other gently petting your hair and twirling little strands between his rough fingers. you had never felt him be so gentle with you, heck, you were pretty sure this was the first time he had ever genuinely touched you other then the rude shoves and pushes.
you didn’t know why his body was so warm, but all you knew was that you wanted to be as close as possible to him. seek shelter in his arms and fall asleep by being rocked.
his rough fingers gently tug at your shirt hem, pulling it down in order to warm you more. his finger brushed softly against your flesh as he did this, making your heart skip a beat. you didn’t say a word, but the two of you could feel the tension thickening.
he stares at your body, your face, how your legs are straddling him and how your buried so deep into his chest. he brushes his finger against your skin lightly under your shirt again, wanting to see if he had imagined the way you reacted the first.
just like he assumed, your body language tensed just slightly, your hands wrapped around him tightening. a lazy smile forms on his face as he slowly pulls his hand under your shirt, resting against your bare back. you shivered, cuddling closer and tucking your head under his chin.
“you’re warm.” you hum quietly, trying your best not to let any more reactions slip as he rubbed his hand up and down your back.
“my bare skin is a lot warmer, sweetheart.” he says smoothly, no hesitance in his words. you gulp hard, blinking and processing his words before looking up at him through your lashes.
“i heard, uh, skin to skin is the best way at beating someone up.” you offer a sheepish smile, cheeks flushed from the cold and the feeling of being in his arms. he can’t help but chuckle dryly at your comment, his hands slipped to wrap around your waist and rub further up until one was playing with your bra clasp and the other was rubbing your belly. you curled up into his touch, a soft sigh leaving your throat.
“you want me to warm you up?” he says lowly, his voice a gentle whisper in your ear as he hoists you up further into his lap. his eyes flutter as he looks you up and down, taking in the sight of your body molding perfectly into his.
“yes please.” you nod and slowly sit up on his lap, your hands going to grasp ahold of his shoulders for balance as you started to lean in. he took the hint and gently cupped your waist, eyes flickering from your eyes to lips, watching intently as you grew closer.
a small moan left him as your lips connected to his. he tightened his grip on your soft skin under your shirt and rubbed it, kneading it as he kissed you. his adam’s apple bobbed as he leaned in, pressing his chest flush to yours and starting to slowly peel your shirt off.
you stopped him, frowning. “it’s too cold for that.” he rolled his eyes at your comment and reluctantly let your shirt go. a small huff left him as he looked back at your pretty face.
“let me at least—“ he mumbles, his hands slipping back under your shirt to grope your breasts. he runs his rough palms over your bra and pulls it down, letting your breasts out from its confinement. he could see your nipples poking through your top more clearly now, but he wished nothing more then to be able to feel them without anything in-between you two. maybe next time.
“so fuckin’ pretty.” a smile tugs at him as he gently gropes them, kneading and rolling your nipples between his fingers. he was gentle, watching your every reaction closely, fingers working at you like a professional. it felt like he was.
“please, i want more, daryl.” your voice sounded pitifully small as you pressed your face into the crook of his neck, straddling his thigh firmly and pressing your core down in hopes of relieving the tension. he watches you with a heavy gaze as you focus on rocking your sensitive core against his thigh, brows furrowed in concentration as you moan softly.
his hands continue groping and gently massing your breasts, rough fingers pulling at your nipples which earns a shallow gasp from you, and pulling you harder down on him. every moan that leaves your throat has him shivering and aching to be inside you more.
“s’enough, baby. c’mon, lemme put it in.” he mutters. his hands grab at his pants belt and he unbuckles it quickly, and in seconds his hard cock slaps against his abdomen, making your eyes widen at his size and his hard he was. you feel your pussy grow even more damp.
“y-yeah, okay.” you nod immediately and start to pull down your pants just enough to have your panties on display. you straddle his hips again, hovering over his cock, your pants around your ankles. it was cold as shit, but you chose to ignore it, too eager to feel him inside you to even care.
one hand on the back of your back and the other pulling your panties to the side, he slowly slides you down until his gruffy patch of hair above his cock brushed against your clit. your lips formed an ‘O’ shape as you felt the slow stretch of him entering you and opening up your inner walls. it felt so good.
“feels so good, daryl.” you cry out softly, shaky hands grabbing onto his shoulders to hold yourself steady on his cock. he hums in acknowledgment, nodding subtly as he wraps his palms around your waist. his fingers knead your doubly flesh, his eyes glued to where you both were conjoined.
“mmm, good girl, jus’ like that,” he grunts, his voice shaky as you start to bounce on his cock. his head leans back against the bark, almost whimpering as he feels your pussy go up and down so him. so god damn tight and wet, he could barely think. it hasn’t even been five minutes and he was already pussy drunk.
“you like that? does it feel good?” you ask breathlessly, eyes dazed as you repeatedly slam yourself down on him. you had never had such a strong and powerful man under you, whimpering as you rode him. you didn’t want this to end, ever.
“feels so good, baby. don’t stop— augh, don’t fuckin’ stop..” his hold on you tightens. maybe you would get bruises, it wouldn’t surprise you, he was holding onto you like you were his lifeline. your hip movements only quicken at his words, moans leaving your throat and eyes rolling back. his fat tip punched that sweet spot inside you everytime you slid down, making you repeatedly chase that feeling.
“i-i’m sorry baby, m’gonna cum,—“ he whimpers, grabbing your hips and starting to slam you down on him at his own speed. a gasp leaves you as your back arches, your hands going to wrap around his shoulders and bury your face into his neck. your body was repeatedly slammed down onto his cock, no break at all between thrusts. he was going fast and hard, eager to feel himself cum inside your soapy walls.
his eyes squeezed shut as he felt himself start to cum inside you, his hands growing faster in pulling you down on him. your tight pussy milked him dry as he whined into your ear, teeth gritted as his fat tip pressed hard onto your sweet spot. his large hand went to rub at your clit as he started to thrust upwards into you, looking to make you cum.
“cum ‘round me sweetheart, i’ve gotcha..” his fingers rub eight figures onto your clit. you shiver on his lap, whimpering loudly into his ear. your hole spasms around him and you clench down hard, making him groan. seconds later, your juices drip down his cock as you slowly go limp, laying like a lifeless doll on his lap with his cock still buried nice and deep inside you.
a few minutes pass of you panting heavily, the cold no longer a problem for you both. daryl held onto you tightly, rubbing your back gently as he calmed down. he eventually started to slide you off him, making you wince and grab onto him tighter.
“jesus— fuck, what’s wrong with ya?” he glares at you. back to his snarky personality, it looked.
“it’s warmer with you inside. just, don’t, okay, please?” you bat your lashes at him, sliding yourself down again, making him hiss at the friction.
“you’re gon’ be the death of me, girl.” he grumbles. he pulls your clothes back on the best he could without tempering with his placement inside you, trying to keep you both as warm as possible. you hum dumbly and snuggle back into his chest, nice and cozy.
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i-am-a-fan · 2 days
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I saw a post talking about how there’s a deep mischaracterization of Mk in the fandom specifically about his monkey form and I’m here to dissect it. (WIth doodles!)
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Tldr: Will Mk end up hurting his family in season 5 due to his new Monkey form? Most likely no, but it is possible that he indirectly hurts them by not understanding the limits of his power.
First things first let’s collect a list of attributes that we know Mk has from past seasons. This will serve as a spine or checklist to see if certain actions are possible. A thing to keep in mind though is the ranking of each attribute as the writers of LMK wrote there are characters as complex and sometimes abandon certain character values if their center value is threatened. 
Mk’s character value list (in my opinion) is as follows: 
-Family 
-Strength 
-Freedom 
-Dependability 
with family and strength being so close to each other, so sometimes strength ends up as Mk’s main concern. Of course, all of these end up mixing at times and in the first seasons we see the mixing of these values gets him in trouble 
Desiring the freedom of choice over listening to Wukong (Pig Pong Panic). Wanting to be dependable but overestimating his strength (Duplication). Wanting to be strong but forgets his family in the process (shadow play). Eventually, he gets his priorities in check and has ended up sticking to this list for most of seasons 3 and 4. 
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Now his flaws (in no particular order): 
Impulsivity 
Forgetfulness 
Stubbornness 
Blind devotion 
He’s overcome a lot of these when he was forced to learn them in season 3. His stubbornness to not tell anyone what was happening with the LBD got people hurt. His impulsivity with his actions ended up crashing the ship, and almost sold his family to a goldfish demon.
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(Text: Mk's Fault, Good Intentions, Trying mentor)
So he’s had to come up with methods of working around that. Mk’s blind devotion to Wukong almost got Mei killed, and we see how he changes because of it. At the end of season 3, Mk doesn’t explicitly say that he sees Wukong in a new light but he heavily implies it with the metaphor of a bowl of noodles. 
So… Will Mk go crazy and end up hurting his friends? 
I highly doubt it. While I toyed with the idea, Mk is a lot smarter than the fandom usually gives him credit for. He knows Wukong is flawed, and he still trusts in him because he knows Wukong is trying. Mk has faith in Wukong’s strength and the fact that Wukong also heavily values family, even if his isolation makes it a lot harder for him to do so. Just rewatch the ending of season 3 where Wukong apologizes to Mk and watch as Mk comes to the realization that Wukong is trying so hard to make up for his past. (They also drive this point home in season 4 with how disappointed Wukong sounds at himself for not finding Mk in the scroll in the season finale.) 
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(Text: He's flawed and trying, Has to accept harsh reality, Dissociating Coping mechanism)
So what about Mk’s impulsivity? I doubt that’d be something that directly harms his friends. He’s worked on his impulsivity by working with others (Redson in season 3 and Mei’s planning in season 4) to help fill in the gaps in his plans. In order for his impulsivity to harm others, you’d have to break that family value first or raise that value of strength and freedom. Most likely this flaw can manifest in Mk overdoing his Monkey form ™  and sending a shockwave that accidentally hurts the people around him.  Probably manifesting either in training or while having fun with Mei (think about how Mk was in the Bad Weather episode). 
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Okay, what if Mk is tricked into it like he was in Season 4 (back to the flaw of blind devotion)? Mk has spent every season backstabbed by someone he trusted. We see him snap at Azure after he finds out that he was going to keep Wukong in the scroll. He snaps at Macaque in season 4. It’s safe to say that he’s learned, at least partially, to not trust others so blindly. Mk is also supposed to have gotten the “skill of self-reflection” in “Revenge of the Spider Queen” but his reflecting has mostly just impacted the other flaws. 
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(Text: Side note, Monkey Mk doesn't have a nose)
But there is one possibility I toy with, bottled up emotions. Mk has extremely big emotions but hates showing any emotion that can be seen as negative. He loves being happy and he’s not afraid to show it, but as soon as those emotions turn to doubt, anger, or sadness he bottles them up fast. He knows he can rely on his family, but he’s stubborn and thinks that his emotions aren’t worth that hassle. Take the ending of season 3 where Mk states that “he tries not to think too hard” about his own place in the universe, which could be due to a fear of losing the value of freedom if he has a specific role to play in the universe.
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(Text: Guys He's so avoidant, forced to think about his identity, 18-early 20's and Identity crisis)
It’s worsened by the fact that every. other. character. avoids. their. emotions. No other characters in this series are open about their emotions except Tang and Sandy. And from season 3 (and a bit of season 4) we know that Mk doesn’t view Tang in an extremely positive light.
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Not exactly negative, but his admiration lies more on the rest of the team. Macaque points this out in season 2 stating in “Shadow Play” that Mk should talk out his insecurities, but no one else does that. 
That being said Mk isn’t entirely forgetful either. Macaque was a season 1 villain with his betrayal going through season 3. Mk’s high value of family, and flaw of blind devotion, make him want to give him a chance as Macaque’s past is connected with Wukong’s. HOWEVER, Mk is also stubborn and hasn’t forgiven Macaque’s actions. That’s why he snaps, plus the fact that Macaque is terrible at direct communication. Like I said before, Mk won’t directly hurt anyone he cares about, but if his monkey form is highly connected with his emotions (as most magic tends to be) having those bottled-up insecurities might accidentally cause Mk to unleash more power than he means to.
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(Text: Normal, Fed up Meter, rage (on jar))
I have no idea where season 5 is going to go, but I’m so excited about the possibilities. 
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(Text: Terrified of his actions hurting his family. UNSTABLE!!!)
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mulansaucey · 2 days
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Azriel x Reader
I had a little scenario playing out in my head and so I decided to write the scene. If y’all want me to write the full story just let me know. Anyways this is so for fun so enjoy!
•••••••••••
I waited for my drink at the counter of the small tavern. I look around, soaking it all in as I think of my mate spending his youth here.
As I’m lost in thoughts of Azriel I feel a presence beside me.
“I know you’re not from around here. What brings a beautiful stranger to this part of Illyria?” A male with shoulder length curls and bronze skin marked with dirt and sweat says to me.
I look him over and can’t help but see the major superiority complex and possible daddy issues oozing out of him. I give him a polite smile and reply, “I’m here with my mate, just visiting his childhood home.”
I turn away as to dismiss him and end the conversation. Hoping the deterrent that Azriel is just across the room would help. But nope.
“That’s what they all say. I don’t see a male claiming you. In fact,” he leans in to whisper into my ear.
“It’s actually quite dangerous for a girl like you. Anyone could just pick you up and walk out of here.” He leans away with a smirk.
The skin on my neck stands up with the subtle threat of danger. I can tell he doesn’t hear “No” often. And if he does then he doesn’t take it as a valid answer. I smile sweetly at him and say, “Touch a hair on my fucking head and don’t even worry about my mate killing you. Because you’d be trapped with me.”
My drinks make their way to me as soon as I’m done speaking and I turn to walk away when the brute grabs my forearm making my drinks crash to the floor with the force he turns me towards him.
“You bit-“ he doesn’t even have time to finish the insult before Azriel appears through the shadows, grabs the arm gripping me, twists it behind the unfortunate Illyrian and slams his body onto the counter.
His screams make the whole tavern go quiet. Everyone waiting on bated breath to see what the Shadowsinger would do.
“I didn’t know she was yours! I’m sorry!”
Azriel leans down low, making sure the stupid brute hears every word.
“ONE word from her and I break your arm.”
Before I can even stop myself I say, “Word.”
Az looks up at me for confirmation and I take pity at the scene before me. The Illyrian being pinned to the counter looks like he’s about to piss himself.
I sigh before replying, “Let’s not ruin the night. But he’s buying me new drinks.”
And that was that. Az released him and told me to go sit down and not worry myself. I keep an eye on him but can’t help but giggle as the scared shitless man pulls out money and throws it on the counter to the barmaid, Az looming directly behind him. She smirks as she remakes our drinks and I just know she’ll be telling all her girlfriends what happened tonight. It’s not often a stupid drunk gets put in his place like this.
•••••
Aaaannd that’s all I got. I was thinking about Azriel having a mate who helps him learn to love himself, and that starts by addressing his childhood trauma and his inner racism (it’s canon he hates Illyrians) towards himself and his people. If I were to write more of this then that’s basically what it would be about. I don’t believe a romantic partner can just magically fix someone, it takes time and a lot of self reflection but having a stable support person can help. I want to see Azriel in a healthy and stable relationship and that means working on himself. Anyway if you like it let me know, thanks for reading!!
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middlingmay · 2 days
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Rebel!John x Pastor's son!Gale AU
“D’you think you’re a sinning man, John?”
That was the thing Gale Cleven was best at: taking any assumptions you had or expectations you made about him, tossing them in the dirt between your legs where you lay sprawled, and grinding them down into dust under his boot while you watched.
Metaphorically speaking. But it was a metaphor John had been thinking about a lot lately.
They sat parked up in his car, a town over from Daddy Cleven’s parish. John wasn’t sure what tale Gale had spun when he escaped the old man’s clutches. But he was sure that he didn’t care.
What he did care about, very much, was the way Gale looked in the fading light. Golden hair, golden skin - even the blue of his eyes absorbed the gold of the sun as it started to make its way to bed.
His shirt buttons still stood to attention, done right up to the top and his shirt was starched so it dug a little into his throat. Evidently he’d not had a chance to change into the soft cotton collars and cardigans he preferred when he didn’t have to be at attention for the Pastor.
But in a rare display of abandon, Gale had rolled up his cuffs and stretched out his arms as he lounged in the front seat of John’s beloved car, top down. One arm dangled over the end of the door, the other stretched over the back of the seat. John had never fully appreciated that particular design feature of his Buick Super Convertible Coupe; that the two front seats ran end to end, so it was a little like sitting on a couch. Not until the first time it allowed him to press his legs against the local pastor’s son in the name of ‘getting comfortable’.
The deep red leather was soft and supple and today Gale had felt some kind of way that had him knocking his knee against John’s and draping his arm across the divide so his fingertips nearly, nearly, tickled the very edges of John’s arms - right at the top, where it met the short cuff of his t-shirt.
His mom hated this shirt - said it showed more of him than was Godly. When he paired it like he did today, with tight blue denim jeans which hugged his strong waist and showed just how thick his thighs were, she tutted and swatted his behind with whatever she was holding before she ushered him outta her door until he “learned some damn sense! What kinda girl you gonna bring home to me looking like that?”
And the longer John spent with Gale, the clearer the answer was to him. Not a damn one.
Gale was staring at him and John realised he hadn’t answered the question. He’d just been staring at Gale like some love-sick dame.
John grinned, the one that revealed his teeth as it spread, and let him bite on his lip a little on the way.
Gale’s eyes flicked to it like they always did.
“Isn’t that a given?”
But Gale was good at recovering from John’s teasing, and levelled him with his own look, head cocked, like John was a child who was being deliberately obtuse.
“Is it?” he asked. “Because depsite your reputation around town, I ain’t seen you do anything immoral.”
Immoral. John latched onto the word like it was prey; a perfect opportunity to get Gale a little worked up.
“Well which are you asking? Immoral, or sinful?”
Gale’s brown furrowed, and he looked at John all suspicious like. “I don’t follow.”
John turned his body towards Gale, his own arm coming up to the back of the seat, draping over Gale’s who didn’t budget an inch.
“They’re not the same, Buck,” he said, using the nickname Gale pretended to hate.
There. He saw it. The intrigue; the temptation to bite the bait.
“Okay. How are they different?”
Hook, line, and sinker.
“Tell me what your seven sins are.”
Gale snorted. “You’re a Catholic, John. You know what they are.”
John didn’t laugh. “Say them.”
Noting the tone - the order - Gale sat up a little straighter. His arms dragged along the line of John’s as he did so. John felt it like static electricity.
“Pride.”
John nodded. “I got plenty of that. I’m proud of my car,” he gestured with his hand.
“You worked hard on it—”
“I’m proud of my looks. I like keeping my curls longer because I know what it looks like when someone wants to pull on ‘em. I like my legs,” he stretched them out a bit further and Gale’s first blush of the evening made its appearance. “They make me feel strong. And that makes me feel good. All those folks lookin’ at what I got.”
Gale was silent.
“What’s next?”
“Greed and gluttony.”
“Hm,” John made it a satisfied and contented sound. “Well, I’m not greedy for money, you know that. And if It was success and fame I was after, I’d have trotted to New York after my dad.”
Gale’s eyes softened at that, well aware of John’s tendency to self-sacrifice for the comfort of his mother and his sisters - something no one else knew apart from John’s best friend, Curt.
John was pleased to see it, that false sense of security, before he made his move. “At first, I told myself that everytime I saw you would be the last. I’d leave the pretty pastor’s son be, stop teasin’ and tormentin’ him and let him find some friends more like him.”
Blush number two.
“But each time we spoke, every time I got you to laugh, every time you caught me lookin’ - it just made me greedier, Gale. Just got me hungry.”
A soft breathe rushed from Gale’s lungs. His fists clenched where they rested. Perfect control.
“Sloth.”
John laughed, bright and happy. “The day you let me, I’ll spend the whole morning after showing you sloth, just you wait.”
Gale covered his mouth with the hand that had been resting on the door and snickered. John loved that he could make this boy, normally so solemn and serious with the weight of his father dragging him down, laugh so easily now. Gale shoved John back and inch and John let him, smiling like a fool.
“Alright, envy,” Gale said, finally getting into the game.
“Your buttons.”
Gale spluttered. “My what?”
John nodded at his buttoned up collar. “Your buttons. Your shirt.”
“You can’t be serious? You’re jealous of cloth?”
“Ah, ah,” John corrected him gleefully. “I’m envious.”
Gale rolled his eyes but John leaned over under the pretense of studying the button at the base of Gale’s throat, and the younger boy stilled like a deer. From here John could draw in the scent of him: soap something sweet, like chocolate.
A breath away from the lip of Gale’s shirt collar, John murmured,” They get to kiss ya in ways you ain’t let me, yet.”
Gale whipped his head round and John had to rear back lest he get smacked in the head, but he didn’t go far. He saw Gale walk that edge; the one between excitement and fear, both centred on what he really wanted.
The other thing John liked about Gale, was that he had a complete and utter inability to back down. In the fractional space between them now, Gale let the arm resting along the back of the seat drop in a ghost of an embrace as it curled around John where he sat. The other he slowly but deliberately brought to rest of John’s denim-clad knee, high though, and gripped like if he didn’t, he wouldn’t be able to control where it went.
“Lust?” Gale whispered against his face.
And it would have been easy, so easy for John to finally bridge that distance and claim a kiss. But just like all the other times, he couldn’t help but think it had to be perfect, not easy.
Instead, he tipped forward just enough to brush his nose against Gale’s; for their eyelashes to flutter against each other, and for their stubble to catch in a delicious scrape and burn as they breathed in each other’s air.
“You have no idea,” John’s voice rumbled in the coming dusk, “the fire I got inside me for you, Gale Cleven.”
Gale’s breathe was shaky and laboured and tumbled out of him in a stutter. And then, “Don’t I?”
John dropped his head to the curve of Gale’s neck with a thud and a pained groan, and Gale chuckled, deep and syrupy now that John wasn’t stealing his breath.
But never let it be said that John Egan did not give as good as he got.
“I am a sinful man, Gale,” he spoke, just below Gale’s ear. “I don’t look at you with piety or good, clean Christian love for mankind. If you judge me based on the Good Book, you make me wanna be a very bad man.”
Gale’s hand spasmed on his leg as John felt the weight of the other man’s head rest on the back of his, just for a second.
Then John asked, “But does that make me immoral? Does that make me evil?”
Gale pulled back and looked at John with horror. He could see the refusal in Gale’s eyes that the younger man wanted to speak into the air. Of course John wasn’t evil. How could he be?
Gently, John cupped Gale’s chin between a finger and a thumb. “Does my - do my feelings for you mean I gotta burn?”
Gale closed his eyes but not before John caught the flash of hurt. Gale tilted his head down so his mouth laid in the curve of John’s palm, and in that sacred hollow he said, “I won’t let you burn, Johnny. Least not alone.”
There. As close to an admission as Gale got that John wasn’t going crazy and he wasn’t in this alone. That Gale saw John the way John saw him, and he wasn’t getting himself off every night to a damned fantasy.
With more effort than he thought he had in him, John pulled back to the driver’s seat and shook it out: all the tension, his desire, his temptation. He shook his head, rolled his shoulders, smacked his hands on the steering wheel, and when he turned to Gale he looked near pristine, but for the raw, bare look in his eyes.
“I gotta get you home,” and John said it like a vow.
A few streets away from the Pastor’s house - because even Gale didn’t make John stupid enough to tempt fate like that and Gale wouldn’t let him even if he did - Gale paused before getting out the car.
“What about wrath?”
John, who hated dropping Gale off but always appreciated the momentary but completely unobstructed view of his ass as he left the car, took a second to catch up. “Huh?”
“Wrath. You never said how you were a wrathful man. You left it out.”
And John thought back to the busted lip that started this whole thing. To subsequent red cheeks and black eyes and that one time he walked into the garage to Curt pointing viciously at the back room and finding Gale curled up on the ratty couch there under his jacket, soaked to the bone and nose red, sleeping.
He couldn’t touch Gale, now. Not around so many houses full of curtain twitchers, night time or not. But he could hold his gaze, which so many people found hard to do with the pastor’s son, and he could promise:
“I will never hurt you, Gale.”
And if he expected some heartfelt look or words at the declaration, he would have been mightily disappointed. Gale looked affronted, like John had just treated him like he was stupid.
“I know that, idjit.”
John spluttered.
“But your boys say you’re awful good a fightin’”
When he was a little younger and a lot stupider, John used to fight for the hell of it; to feel something in the wake of his father walking out his life. But now he only fought for a good reason. And Gale and his boys were very good reasons.
“I look after mine, Gale.”
And Gale bit his lip at the meaning left unsaid and wished John a goodnight, before he exited the car and walked off into the night.
John watched Gale until he turned the corner, like he always did, before he collapsed against the back of the seat and rubbed his face hard with his hands.
Gale Cleven. John was fairly sure he was going to hell for that man.
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luffyvace · 1 day
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The Luffy Package ☠️📦
(General & relationship headcanons as well as Luffy quotes (relationship implied) for his big day!!)
had to go all out for my fav 😊🤭
General Luffy headcanons:
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Luffy has nails so short dirt can’t get under it 😭
not necessarily the booty diggers 🤭
but just really short, like almost booty digger ig—but not it
he has like 1% nail
its not intentional, they just never grow
i have a feeling someone taught luffy how to dance
idk who
it was likely makino, shanks or some else he cares deeply about
but he learned early on and has been a great dancer ever since!
maybe at parties since they happen a lot in one piece ⭐️
But just because someone taught him doesn’t mean he was awful at dancing at first
maybe he was a natural!
feel the rhythm typa thing 🎶 🕺
it’d be funny if he was
cuz imagine a guy that can dance but can’t sing
how you gon dance on beat to a out of tune song?? 😭
at least to uta anyway
ive always loved Luffy’s singing‼️
he never thinks about what the one piece is
but would be the most disappointed if it isn’t something cool
this dude is NOT interested in books so if the one piece really is just joyboy’s tale i don’t think he’ll be satisfied..😭 (I’m talking about the theory)
he definitely wouldn’t say it was all for nothin tho
he still has nakama, treasure and is the pirate king!! 👑
but…the one piece as books is just a mega L for him
Robin will enjoy ♡
you know that thing he does where he stretches his face real big? Like the time he was tryna cheer nami up when she was sick? And it scared vivi and zoro?
he scared himself when he first realized he could do that too
he was bored and started messing around with his devil fruit
at first he was outside and he stretched his mouth, and when realized he could see inside it, he was like ‘I wonder what this looks like’
so he went inside and did it into a mirror
he somehow managed to trash the whole bathroom running away from his reflection
he quickly got over it and realized it was kinda funny
he showed Ace and sabo who also found it terrifying
then preceded to scare people with it ever since
d end! :)
I feel like he’s thought about what the ‘D’ in his name stands for too
He came up with a bunch of outrageous names that likely aren’t it..
”Dingus?”
”Donkey?”
”Demarto?”
”Doorbell?”
”Dinosaur?”
yeah, dinosaur seems the most plausible 😊
Luffy Dinosaur Monkey!
‘HEY THAT SOUNDS COOL 🤩’
yup, that’s probably what it stands for 😁
sneaks into the usopp factory whenever he’s not in there
he ends up playing with his creations and destroys, it, other projects, and the factory altogether in the progress
he then runs out laughing
usopp later returns to the ruins only to find his months work of his greatest creation yet named “ultimate captain usopp three thousand smasher” has been reduced to fragments of metal nothing ☺️
listen idk if oda has confirmed Luffy’s favorite color but I would say it’s none
why? The same reason why you can’t ask a toddler their’s, it’s just gonna constantly change and you know it’s not the truth
arguably, if I had to pick an actual color based off canon, (IK it’s a shade but wtv) it’d be white
why? wym? Don’t you remember that one ep where luffy sang a song about how he loves snow cuz it’s so white?
(one of his lesser talked about songs 😭💗)
Relationship Luffy headcanons:
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Luffy as a partner is really rambunctious and loving
But do note that loving doesn’t always mean romantic
for him it means loving you a lot but not being lovey dovey when showing it
you need protecting? He’s on the case!! He can’t and he has to beat someone up? One of your nakama’ll do it so stay with them!
your strong? Perfect! He’s gonna go fight this guy so you go beat up that one!
why am I mentioning that? Because it shows he has a great sense of trust and faith in you
Of course he does with all his friends but your reasoning is different
not only are you his nakama, your also his partner!! Which means he loves you in a intimate way!! Not just platonically
I say “just” because I swear sometimes Luffy’ll feel like a friend with you (best friends and lover typa thing 💞) he’s just as goofy and chaotic with you as he is Usopp and chopper
he feels extra lively when around you and always wants to play, whether you like this or not. Your personality depends a lot on how your relationship with him is but I won’t dabble into that today because it’s his birthday. 🎉 but honestly it doesn’t matter if you punch him like nami or laugh like brook-
he’s still gonna bug you! 💖 seriously you can’t get rid of this dude 🤨 Luffy will drag you on every single one of his adventures so I hope your either brave or fearless like him. The only time you two separate and he allows it is when he’s fighting the boss type thing LOL. Like Doflamingo or smth.
that said Luffy isn’t clingy he just likes being around you and seeing what your doing. Especially when you haven’t landed on an island yet and he’s bored. He’s always singing, playing with your face (ironic cuz he’s the stretchy one) or trying to get you to play some silly game he made up
that usually somehow manages to tick everyone off. 🤷‍♀️
will grab your hands randomly and make you dance to some song he made up about literally anything he sees or feels
he even made one about YOU once :3
”OOOOOHHH your my partner! Yes my partner! We’re having lots of fun! Going on adventures- YAHOO!! And dancing a ton! We’ll dance all arcross the grand line!! Take your hats off and let them fly!! YIPPIE!! We’re having a graaaaand TIIIIIIIME!” 😁🕺
Luffy quotes: (implied relationship between you two)
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”HEY LOOK DO YOU SEE THAT ISLAND!! Cmoncmoncmoncmoncmoncmon!! HURRY UP I WANNA GO EXPLORING!!”
”can you sneak in the kitchen and steal some food from sanji? I’m really hungry and he won’t let me in anymore!!”
”LETS HAVE A PARTY!!!” — “we don’t need a reason! CMON!’ CHEERS!”
”lets tame that thing and make it our pet!!”
”what should we name em?” — “Junpi? SOUNDS GOOD TO ME!!” (You didn’t get a chance to respond 💕)
”HEY LOOK A RESTAURANT!! Grab on I’ll rocket us there!! HURRY UP IM HUNGRYYY!!”
”hey! Do you have any food on you?? I’m hungry!”
”Liar!! I can smell it!!”
”take a bath?! I don’t stink!!— EUGH!- okay yeah maybe….but I don’t wanna take a bath!! I’ll get all tired!”
”I’ll leave you with that guy! So go kick some butt! I’ll deal with that red forehead guy!!” (AN: There’s no actual red forehead guy that’s canon, I made it up 👍)
”⁉️ HEY WHAT HAPPENED?! Did that guy beat you up?! I’ll send him flying!! 💢”
”Shishishishi! Shh! Watch this! I’m gonna drop this on Usopp’s head! 🤭😂”
”Lets play a gaaaaame!! I’m so bored! 😞”
”can I have some of your food?” *Already stuffing a piece in his mouth* (the point is it’s not the whole thing ⁉️😱)
”HE LOOK MY BOUNTY WENT UP!! 🤩🤩‼️“
”Isn’t this fun?! 😆” (having a near death experience)
”don’t worry! My injuries don’t hurt at all! See? I’m dancing! I’m having fun!”
”oops. Sorry.”
”look!” (Two chop sticks stuffed up his nose and mouth)
”WOAHH A MAN KILLING BEAR!! LETS GO CHECK IT OUT! 🤩” (even if you wanted to say no your already being hoisted over there because you weren’t running fast enough for him)
”plan? Never mind that!! Let’s go! We’re gonna kick that butt head guys’ butt!!” (AN: another fictional villain I made up on a whim)
”HOLD ON TIGHT” (Gum Gum Rockets with hardly any warning)
”let’s play a game!! It’s called steal zoro’s swords without waking up zoro!! 😁”
”nyop!” (Puts you atop his shoulders 💓)
”nyop!” (Jumps on your back almost knocking you over 💝)
”look at my disguise! Nobody will suspect us! 😎👍”
”Cmere!” (Pulls you into his lap)
”HI! Is it almost time for dinner yet?” (Plops down in your lap)
Thanks for supporting me and my work—as well as my random disappearances too 💗🤗
Everyone! Say it!
HAPPY BIRTHDAY LUFFY‼️‼️
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i’m a sucker for justice league somehow don’t know about the batfam tropes but i also love baby dick being raised by the league
like dick is tiny and a menace and bruce is a single father™️ and the league is fairly new and small so they require a lot of his time.
and the league are all sceptical about a tiny child being a vigilante but when they meet dick and realise he’s sticking around they use their one collective brain cell to decide to step up for this child that going to fight crime one way or another.
so suddenly there’s 101 volunteers to teach dick how to fight and also various other skills that they want to pass onto this child (oliver is banned from looking after him alone after he tries to pass down the noble art of poker to the kid because it is useful batman i’m teaching him how to conceal his thoughts in front of an enemy)
on nights where bruce has monitor duty and alfred has a day off (because you can have a day off when there’s only one child to worry about) he just shows up to the watchtower with dick and whoever’s around and not busy takes care of him
and when the others start to get sidekicks there first instinct is to introduce them to their darling vigilante nephew who immediately helps them relax about the hero community (because hearing about how his uncle j’onn used to shapeshift to entertain him as a child or his auntie dinah always helps him play pranks on the others makes these godlike figures a lot less intimidating)
and dick adores his hero aunts and uncles and he’s a performer so naturally he revels in the attention
and when he’s in his angsty teenager phase and he’s mad at bruce he pulls the “i’m going to uncle clark’s” or “i’m telling auntie diana” and he goes and complains about bruce to them
and when he grows up they’re all just so proud of how brilliant he is as a man and a hero
and they all take pride in teaching the next generation but dicks the one they really watch grow up for the first time, just the ultimate oldest child (even though other sidekicks are technically older than him)
just dick being the one the league learn about children through.
(some of these characterisations may be dodgy i mostly know about the bat family haha)
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johnslittlespoon · 2 days
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thinking unholy thoughts of gale making john come untouched with only his fingers in the biker au… maybe john didn’t even know it was possible so when gale keeps going he gets confused and is like “i’m good im ready” but gale keeps going 😅
au post | ohhh man okay. yeah feeling super extremely sane and normal about this, never been better! thanks! ~2k words of nsfw filth below the cut sighhhh
okay, prefaced with a little more world building in my last post since we're really diving into this au now LOL. ofc things might change when i actually write it, but this is how i'm feeling things will go rn!
re: 'maybe john didn't even know it was possible'– like i said in the drabble before this, he's fooled around a little with curt, but nothing more than getting a bit handsy. he's had a girlfriend for around a year, so they were probably serious enough to get up to things too, but straight sex is very different from gay sex obviously.
the internet exists, and during the time john is pining(thirsting) over gale, he probably does his fair share of googling 'blond man with tattoos fucks brunet man', but really he's kinda intimidated by a lot of stuff, so he doesn't delve too deep into that world. when he and gale start seeing each other and john realizes they're gonna move past making out eventually (because gale is almost such a gentleman sometimes that john wants to bash his head in in his impatience), he probably psychs himself out a bit and gets into his own head and is like fuck.
gale's had years to gain experience and what if he's not good enough or does something stupid or or or, on and on. obviously these worries are completely unfounded because gale adores him and would never pressure him and doesn't expect them to just jump right into things; half of the reason he probably drags things out is because he wants to be absolutely certain things are on john's terms, and that john's not just being horny and impulsive.
john probably ends up trying to do some research so he can yk. pick up some tips, because he's got all the enthusiasm he needs when he thinks about getting to drop to his knees for gale, but he has no idea what he's doing and he doesn't realize everyone learns as they go because he's dumb (/fond) and overthinks everything. (whatever he ends up learning doesn't matter anyway, because all coherent thought leaves his head when they do start doing stuff together and gale is so encouraging and easygoing that he feels ridiculous for ever worrying.)
all that is to say that yeah, he's got like no firsthand experience when it comes to anything past the basics or anything he hasn't been doing by himself. everything is fresh and exciting and as much as he loves just hanging around gale, he's also always needy and horny (gets told he's "insatiable" quite a few times by gale) so they get up to a lot of shit and it's unfair how good gale is in bed and how he knows exactly which buttons to press to get john worked up.
at the time this incident happens, gale's already fingered john a few times, but it's always just as a build up/foreplay, usually followed or joined with gale's other hand or lips around john's cock. they haven't had sex yet, and it feels really nice when gale does this, but john always just kinda sees it as foreplay and it doesn't last for long.
so when gale's got john laid in his bed one sunny afternoon and they're making out and john starts getting whiny and squirmy from the stimulation of his fingers in him, and gale doesn't switch things up like he usually does, john's heart leaps because in his mind, surely gale's getting him ready for something else.
but he's frustrated because it feels like gale's purposefully avoiding hitting right where he needs him to, pants out gale's name against his lips, grasping the back of gale's shirt. starts rocking his hips down against his fingers, seeking it out, and gale rumbles out a "needy thing" before pressing a kiss to his cheek and crawling down the length of his body, settling himself between john's legs.
john props himself up on his elbows to watch, cheeks flushed and eyelids heavy, digging his fingers into the blanket instead. he lets out a little whine at the slow drag of gale's fingers, and that finally makes him cave, crooking his fingers just right, and john's lips part at the way the sudden surge of pleasure zings up his spine.
lets his elbows slide out from underneath himself, dropping back down into the pillow, satisfied he's finally getting what he's been waiting for since gale worked him open ten minutes ago. he waits for stimulation on his cock to join the fingers in him as usual, assuming that's why gale moved to lay there, but gale just keeps up the slow in and out and consistent brushes against his prostate and its embarrassing how much he's leaking all over his own stomach.
but then he has the thought that maybe gale's actually properly prepping him and his cock twitches and his breath catches and he props himself up again to find gale already watching him. he waits expectantly, too shy to ask, and gale doesn't offer him any confirmation, just pressing gentle kisses to his thighs and smiling when john's hips start to roll down against his fingers again.
john thinks that maybe gale's waiting for him to say he's ready, since he does often make him ask for what he wants, so even as his cheeks go hot, he gets out a breathy "gale, i'm– that's good, 'm ready."
but gale only chuckles quietly, nipping at his thigh to feel it twitch away, watching john in a way that makes him feel somehow even more exposed than he already is, and now he's even more confused and he feels like he's melting into the bed and gale's putting a little more pressure into each crook of his fingers and the sounds he's making are so whiny and high pitched that he wants to cover his own ears out of embarrassment.
"does it feel good, doll?" gale purrs, dragging john's eyes back to him, and he nods, twisting his hands in the blankets harder. it does feel good, enough so that heat is pooling in his stomach in a way that's both familiar and foreign, the sensation all different with no friction against his dick.
gale's working his hand a little faster and john's face burns at the realization that he's being finger–fucked like a girl and he drops back into the pillows, arms going too weak to hold himself up. his thighs are starting to tremble and gale murmurs that he's "making such a mess on yourself, baby, look at you" and john immediately reaches down to take his dick in his hand, but gale catches his wrist with his free hand, slowing his movements down, much to john's dismay.
"no hands today, john," he says gently, letting go of his wrist. "i want you to keep them at your side for me, can you do that?"
and john lets out a near hysterical noise but he obliges, grabbing fistfuls of the blanket again, head spinning at being given an instruction, biting down on the inside of his cheek when gale speeds his fingers up again with a "good job, baby."
the heat builds and builds as gale's fingers hit right where they need to each time, and it feels like he's just hanging on the edge of an orgasm for so long, unable to tip over that edge, eyes blurring over from how overwhelming the drawn out sweet–hot pleasure is. he's mindlessly rocking his hips down and panting out little "ah ah ah"s with each thrust of gale's fingers and he's so close to lifting his hand from his side when a sob of frustration slips out.
but gale presses his lips to his thigh again, sucking at the sensitive skin there, pulls back to murmur a stream of "c'mon sweet thing, come on my fingers, show me how good you feel, you can do it" and john chokes out a cry as he clenches around his fingers and comes so hard he nearly blacks out, back arching and hips stuttering up like he can get friction that way.
gale's hand chases his jerking movements, continuing to fuck him on his fingers as john paints his own stomach, cock pulsing, feeling like he's just going to keep coming and coming, mewling desperately and shaking like a leaf and seeing stars behind his closed eyelids.
he closes his thighs against gale's sides when it starts to be too much, hands shaking when reaches down to tiredly push at him, hips stuttering away from the stimulation, hiccupping as he tries to catch his breath. he can feel hot tears soaking into the hair at his temples, lips parted in surprise, shuddering when gale lets his movements slow down until his fingers go still.
john whines when he pulls them out, despite his efforts to squirm away from them moments before, and gale presses a kiss to his hip before he crawls back up his body, cupping john's face with the hand not covered in lube, and john's eyes flutter open, bleary when they focus in on the expression of awe on gale's face.
"fuck, john," gale sounds almost as breathless as him. "you're crying, baby. was that okay?" john nods shakily, tilting his chin up for a kiss, and gale leans down without missing a beat, kissing him so deep it feels like he wants to devour him. mumbles "you have no idea what you do to me" against john's lips, brushing his fingers over the tear streaks on either side of his face, peppering his red cheeks with light kisses before pulling back again.
"felt good?" he murmurs, and john chokes out a laugh at the understatement, draping his wrist over his forehead. "really good," he breathes out, flushing when he opens his mouth again, "didn't know that was, um. a thing." and gale half laughs, half groans at the admission, rolling his hips down, and john sucks in a sharp breath at the drag of his pants, cock twitching even after all that.
gale doesn't mind; he's more than happy to watch his pretty boy fall apart on his fingers, mouth, cock, as many times as john lets him.
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magpiepills · 3 days
Text
Escritorio
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Rating: EXPLICIT 18+ MDNI
Pairing: Javier Pena x f reader
Word count: 3.2k
Summary: after you make a serious mistake at work, Javi decides to help you make it up to the team.
Warnings: SMUT! PIV, smoking Javi, fingering, oral, I can’t remember what else. PWP, you know the drill.
A word from the author: this is a repost! I can’t remember why I wrote this, and it’s not my best work, but I sure was horny over the idea of him smoking while he fingers reader.
It’s Saturday night, eleven PM. You're sitting and stewing in Steve’s desk chair, going over the disastrous day your team had just had. Steve had gone home hours ago, begging off with an excuse about his wife and kid but Javier had stayed to do paperwork and go over maps and statements, planning how to move forward from the complete intelligence disaster you caused. You sighed softly and slumped, tapping your pencil eraser against your lip, feeling it stick slightly to your fading chapstick. No amount of weak office coffee could make your day less of a chore.
As the newest member of the team, you were obligated to stay as long as the last person in the office did. It was some sort of hazing, apparently. Your senior co-worker, agent Javier Peña knew that, and he was happy to continue the tradition. He often worked late anyway since he had trouble sleeping. He figured he may as well accomplish something.
You had thought that the silence between you was comfortable, if not a bit tinged with annoyance on his part at having to scrap so much hard work. You didn’t feel the need to fill the silence with small talk and work was a sore subject, so you just tried to look busy. Now though, Javi looks across the desks at you and frowns, clicking his tongue.
“What’s the matter, baby? You sure had a lot to say earlier. Can’t run your mouth now? If you hadn't been so damn talkative with my CI, maybe they wouldn't have run off on us and maybe weeks of work wouldn't have been for nothing. Maybe you’d be home right now.”
You dropped your forehead into your palm, squeezing your eyes shut. You knew he was right. You’d gotten careless and tipped your hand, spooking a close associate of Escobar’s who’d been nearly ready to talk. You knew all that. Now you’re tired and cranky and this man is pushing your buttons.
“I’m sorry, Javi. I’m sorry. I made a mistake. I’m going to fix it.”
You’re getting aggravated now at having to apologize again for something you’ve already apologized to him and Steve and your boss for already. Multiple times you’d been contrite and you genuinely were sorry to have cost your team valuable time and intel. Javi just couldn’t let it go, though. He couldn’t let you move forward until he felt you’d learned your lesson. He felt that it was his job to make sure you felt enough shame, you guessed. Shame had come and gone, though and now you’re ready to snap. Moments passed and he didn’t say anything else, and the room was quiet once again and you were grateful when his eyes left you and went back to his work. You really didn’t want to argue with someone who had been on the job a lot longer than you. Someone you had to see day in and day out. Someone you might harbor just the tiniest crush on. Even If he pissed you off.
The room was warm and still, if not for the yellow haze and hum of the fluorescent lights you could have fallen asleep, instead you raised your head when you heard Javier’s chair groan and creak as he stood and came to lean against Steve’s desk. He gives you a look that borders on regret and drags you to your feet, pulling you close to him. You gasp at the sudden proximity. Your mind is racing and you can’t find the words or make your limbs move to protest.
All you manage is an exasperated “Javi? What are you d-” before his hands begin roaming your body and he lowers his voice as he rubs his nose against your temple. You can smell the cigarettes and mint of his breath as he speaks softly
“I spent a lot of nights in this office, working my ass off chasing down leads. Time I could have used a lot better. Now I think you owe me. I think you should make it worth it to me.”
Your chest is heaving and flushed at how close he is, how you can feel his mustache on your face and the heat of his hands makes you feel like you’re melting. You feel yourself clench involuntarily as your pussy throbs with need, but you’re incensed at his suggestion that you owe anything to him personally.
“I don’t owe you anything, Javi. I’ve been chewed out. Everyone is pissed at me. I’ve been adequately shamed, alright?”
It didn’t seem like he was listening to you at all, though, he’s got his own ideas of retribution.
Warm, soft kisses are being pressed along your neck, up your cheek and to the corner of your mouth. Wanting him is so easy, and for a moment you let yourself imagine something more. Something soft and domestic, something totally disconnected from your current reality, the reality that abruptly slams you back into the moment.
“Javi!” Your shout only comes out as a gasp as he moves you. He is gentle but firm as he turns you and presses his wide palm between your shoulder blades to bend you over his desk, making you jolt with a firm slap on the ass.
“You’ve done something wrong and you’ve got to be punished. You don’t get to come until you’re on my cock, and you don’t get my cock until you’ve learned your lesson. Do you understand?”
You’re loathe to give him the satisfaction, but your body is responding to your obnoxiously, astoundingly attractive asshole partner whether you like it or not. A pathetic moan escapes you as you squirm under the weight of his hand. If you’re being honest with yourself, you do like it. Maybe you’d have quit trying so hard at your job months ago if you knew that making his life harder would land you ass up on his desk with your panties soaked. Maybe the day could be salvaged after all.
While Javi has you bent over the desk, he’s just leaned back in his chair, keeping your legs spread with his knees, landing a few more heavy smacks to your ass over your skirt. He smooths his hands over the fabric after each swat, squeezing and soothing the sting. When he has had enough, he tugs your skirt up to your hips and slips his middle and index finger under the damp gusset of your underwear and pulls them aside, exposing your cunt. Javi takes his time lavishing attention on your pussy.
He spreads your slick all over your folds, increasing pressure when he slides his thumb over your clit. You writhe with pleasure, desperate for more of his touch, but determined not to beg. This earns you another firm, wet smack to your already reddened cheek.
“Stay still.” Javi’s voice is firm but passive. “You’ll take what I give you until you can behave.”
His hand returns to your pussy and he uses both thumbs to slide against your clit, rolling it between them, making you cry out, but you’re careful to stay still this time. Not letting you get too close, he abandons your clit and slips one thumb and then the other into your clenching hole. He thrusts shallow and slow, gently stretching you open, watching as you drip just for him. He keeps his pace and when you’re whimpering and clenching hard, he pulls his hands away.
“Stand up.”
You groaned at the loss, making him smirk. Always so cocky. If he was anyone else right now, you’d have smacked him and ran. But he’s not anyone, he’s Javi, so you stand and turn to face him, eager to find out what will happen next, but not wanting to show it.
“Take this off. Slowly.” He tugs at the sleeve of your emerald green chiffon blouse and doesn’t try to hide how his glassy eyes wander hungrily over your body as you obey.
You unbutton your blouse and let it fall behind you, then unzip your skirt, pushing it over your hips and stepping out of it with a click of your heels. You lift your foot to pull off one of the pumps- nothing special, modest height and black, a good office shoe, but Javier stopped you.
“Leave them on. I like them.”
His admission was endearing in a way. You stood before him, in your work heels, your basic black bra, and your ruined black panties that didn’t match the bra but you were glad that they were at least the same color. You cursed yourself for being in this position. Nearly naked at work with your coworker, letting him touch you, letting him have his way, doing what he told you, and then regretting that you didn’t wear a prettier lingerie set to work just in case your devastatingly beautiful coworker decided today was the day he would sweep you off your feet? Madness.
“Javi, you could have asked me to dinner. That’s what gentlemen usually do when they want to fuck someone.”
His breath warmed your neck before he kissed you there.
“Guess I’m not a gentleman.”
Javier lit a cigarette, and tilted his head as he took a long, contemplative drag. You waited for him to say anything, but he just looked you over.
“Didn’t say you could stop, cariño. The rest- off.”
It was becoming hard to differentiate between your feelings of annoyance, anger, and lust. You wanted to smack him, to scream at him, and to climb into his lap to fuck yourself on his cock until you were both spent and breathless. You could only imagine what it was like, because while you unclasped your bra and slipped your panties off, he was fully dressed in jeans and a soft white shirt unbuttoned down his chest and exposing only his strong neck and a bit of his impossibly broad and golden shoulders. Javier Pena was a Texan Adonis, with his wide shoulders, slim waist and hips, a head of thick, curly, dark hair, and a curved nose that drove you wild. You could easily imagine him cast in bronze or chiseled from marble, brooding for all eternity.
He ate lunch at his desk some days and you envied whatever fruit he mindlessly devoured, lips, tongue, and teeth sinking into it while the tip of his nose got sticky with sweet juice. He really pissed you off. You pissed yourself off when you realized that you were now standing naked between his spread knees and his desk waiting for him to tell you what to do next.
“Up on the desk for me, querida. Lean back.”
There was no point in fighting it now, you’re naked at work, you’ve had your co-workers hands on your pussy. One leg and then the other were lifted until both your knees were in the air. Javi held your legs open with one big hand on your thigh and the other, with a cigarette between two long fingers held the other gently at the knee. You knew in no time at all the slick that had been gathering would trickle down onto his desk.
No eye contact has been made, no agreements, no declarations of love or admiration, just a series of instructions that you followed without question. He was so leisurely in the way he gazes you you, his eyes roaming over your ankles, knees, thighs, hips, stomach, tits and arms. He tilted his head and released a cloud of smoke over you.
“Do it, Javi. Whatever you’re waiting for, I’m not going to beg you, so just do it. I want to get home.”
He scoffed at that, raised his thick eyebrows in amusement.
“I don’t think you’re in any position to be so demanding. Maybe it’s time you learned some patience. It’ll do you good.”
Your head dropped back to the desk with a quiet thud, exasperated and nearly out of energy to pretend you hadn’t wanted to fuck Javier since the day you first saw him. You’d spotted him across from across the street in tight jeans and a tighter black shirt that hugged his biceps, bounding up the stairs outside the embassy two at a time in a macho display that made you roll your eyes and squeeze your thighs together simultaneously. There may as well be a flashing pink neon sign floating above his head that says SEX GOD.
When your resolve broke, you were rewarded with a hot mouth to your cunt. Slow, methodical licks that teased your clit, broad stripes that spread your slick and his saliva over your folds, open mouthed kisses that sucked your folds between his lips, tender kisses to your puffy labia, and finally, his lips covering your clit to suck it and circle it with his tongue.
Your hips jerked and your knees wanted to close around his head, but he kept you open with his strong hands. You felt the hand on your thigh squeeze your soft flesh before sliding down and resting right at the crease between your leg and your pussy for a moment before you felt him at your entrance. First one finger pushed inside, then another, and when combined with the constant movement over your clit, your vision blurred. You barreled toward your orgasm, hungry for relief, and in a flash it was snatched away. His fingers slipped from your tight cunt and came down to smack twice against your cheek.
By the time your eyes refocused, Javier was standing, leaning over you to crush his cigarette into the ashtray by your head. It was all you could do not to cry.
“What are you doing? Why’d you stop?” You asked weakly.
Javi shook his head in disbelief.
“You’re never going to learn, are you? You’re a stubborn girl, you know that?”
A tear leaked from the corner of your eye and disappeared into your hair.
What happened next was an affront to feminism and you’d deny it until the day you died.
“Please, Javi. I’m sorry. You’re right. I was reckless and impatient and I should have asked for your help. Javi, please!”
It was exactly what he was waiting for.
“What do you need, baby? Tell me.”
The condescension had disappeared from his voice and he sounded gentler now, like he was nearly as desperate as you were. It made it easier to beg.
“Fuck me Javi. Now. Please!”
You raised into your elbows and watched as he palmed his cock through his jeans, the thick roll of him unmistakable as it reached across his left hip.
“I think you’ve earned it. You want to come on my cock now? Think you can handle it?”
Thick fingers worked his belt open, followed by the button and zipper, and when his cock was freed, you couldn’t help the way our jaw dropped to your chest.
Javier Peña’s cock was glorious. Thick and long, tan, with a vein along one side that ended just below his smooth foreskin, pulled taut by his throbbing erection, an opalescent bead of precum spilled down over the head.
The sight of him stroking himself before you was at once heavenly and pornographic. It made you want to take up oils and pastels and fill canvases with devoted studies of his turgid member.
“Fuck, Javi. Let me have it, please. Need it.”
Your eyelids feel heavy, your mouth watering at the sight of him. He had reduced you to a simpering mess, and he loved it. The corner of his mouth pulled up into a teasing half smile at the sight of you, so needy for him.
Your folds were slick, swollen, and sensitive. You whined when he slid his heavy cock through them, rubbing over your clit.
“This what you need? Hm? Are you going to come like this, or are you ready to take me now?”
He was teasing, but his voice had a faint waver of desire, telling of his own need. Before you could answer, he was inside you, the thick tip of him stretching you, stilling there for a moment before he worked the rest of his length into the tight grasp of your cunt. He set a steady rhythm, rocking into you with firm strokes.
“Fuck- so fucking tight, taking me so well.”
Javi moved your ankles to his shoulders and kissed your ankle, it was the most tender he’s been since this little game of his started. The first crack. One rough hand found its way to your breast, squeezing your nipple between two fingers. The sensation of his calloused hand on your smooth skin pushed you closer to your release. You were teetering on the edge, waiting for him to either pull you back or let you go over. You didn’t care which anymore. Everything else was meaningless with Javier inside you.
You bucked your hips up, searching for friction against your clit, Javi’s hand left your tit, trailing it down your stomach, over your mound to rest his palm while his thumb traced circles around your bundle of nerves.
“You look so beautiful, all full of cock.”
Words failed you. You looked at him, eyes glazed and half lidded, only able to moan.
“I like you like this. You can’t be a smart ass. I should have fucked you months ago. Be good for both of us.”
His voice was becoming ragged, his own release begging to be found inside your walls. “Come on, cariño. Come on my cock. Let me feel you. I know you’re close. Come for me.”
His command was the last push you needed. Your orgasm washed over you, rippling out from your core, making you whimper for him. The rhythmic squeeze of your pussy, your blissed out face, your bouncing tits, everything he had been dreaming of since he had first seen you all worked together to make Javi come hard deep in your pussy, pulsing his spend against your cervix. He groaned and held your hips tight against him, utterly wrecked as he came down, eyes bleary and jaw slack.
He eased out of you with a groan, and watched as his cum slowly trickled down the curve of your ass. Neither of you spoke, you laid across his desk, among the crumpled papers and the spilled pencil cup, and he stood holding your legs, gently rubbing up and down your calf, catching your breath and looking at how you’d ruined each other.
When you had the wherewithal to get up and straighten yourself back up, Javi passed you his handkerchief. It would have been chivalrous if you weren’t wiping his cum from your thighs.
He watched you redress as he tucked himself back into his jeans, only bothering to fasten three buttons, then lit a cigarette, offering it to you first. You took it, avoiding his gaze, not knowing what to say to him now. You sat on the desk and inhaled the bitter smoke, then blew it away. You looked down at the glowing end of the cigarette, contemplating the almost certain end of your career when you felt a warm hand on your thigh.
“Come on, I’ll drive you home, it’s late.”
You nodded, and slung your purse over your shoulder, and as you walked out the door, Javi spoke again.
“Don’t worry about the CI. It’s not a big deal, happens to everybody. We’ll get the next one.”
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cinnamostar · 9 hours
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three dates to fall in love
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part one. part two. part three. part four. part five (here). part six (coming soon).
pairing : hyunjin x gn!reader
summary : after a two year long unspoken hatred, hyunjin and you are forced to be costars in a romantic series, but when it comes to filming any of the romance scenes, you both utterly fail and are unable to get through your lines. the director threatens to take your roles away if you two aren't able to get past this within the next week, which spawns the genius idea from both your managers: can you learn to (fake) fall in love in seven dates and save your careers?
wc : 2.5k
cw : actor!au, enemies to lovers ?!, slowburn , not proofread, nothing crazy :)
a/n : im back from my hiatus and omggg i graduated from my masters program wahoooo! here's part five. let me know what you think! theres not much going on here to be honest........ its pretty chill
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“Yo,” Changbin answers from the other end of the line, his heavy breaths echoing through the call.
“Are you still working out?” Hyunjin asks incredulously, pulling the phone back to check the time, “You said you were going to the gym two hours ago and you’re still there?”
“Gotta keep these bad boys in shape, ya know?” Changbin teases, a giggle ringing through as he is most, (and he is), checking himself out in the mirror, “What’s up though? Did you just get home?”
“At this point, you look more like a bodyguard than my manager.”
“I take that as a compliment! Thank you very much, but I believe you have something to discuss with me, hm?”
“I mean, it went well?” Hyunjin responds with uncertainty in his voice, causing Changbin to sigh from the other end of the line.
“Is that all..? Are you just going to call me every time to tell me only that?” Changbin asks with annoyance, unable to understand the actor’s unwillingness to share anything more about the arrangement he found himself in. “You know, I’ll just end up calling Chan and hearing it from him instead…”
“Huh?”
Changbin smirks to himself, knowing that would capture the younger’s attention, “Yeah, you know, Y/N has a lot to say. I know all about it. It’s the only way I know how things are going.”
“What do they say?”
“Why do you care?”
“I just do.”
“And I should tell you because…?”
Hyunjin frowns at the back-and-forth, feeling peeved Changbin, his manager, wasn’t divulging any information upfront, “Because I’m the one going on dates with them and I should probably know…?”
“I’ll tell you if you tell me how today went.”
“It went well, I already told you that.”
“Tough luck, buddy, that won’t do. How unfair, especially when Y/N has sooo much to say,” Changbin dramatically mocks a sob, “Yet you, oh, you have so little to offer. It’s like you’re not enjoying any of it.”
Hyunjin rolls his eyes at his antics, frustration bubbling within him, “I am enjoying it and it is going well. Is that good enough for you?”
“Nope.”
“Okay.”
“Okay… So, can I hang up now?”
“No.”
“So you want me to stay on the phone in silence with you?” Changbin asks, a smirk still plastered on his face because he knew, eventually, Hyunjin would relent to Changbin’s teasing. It was always like this, Hyunjin was hard to read and never shared much with Changbin, which honestly makes his job as his manager a lot more difficult than he’d like. The only times Hyunjin would be transparent with him about his emotions was when he was complaining about something, or the time he panickedly called him after his very unfortunate date with you, and how he realized what a big mistake he had made. Other than that, Hyunjin lips were always sealed tight. Either because he was a private person or was bad at vocalizing his feelings, Channgbin didn’t know, but he was getting annoyed at Hyunjin calling him after every day with the same three words every time. ‘It went well.’ God, those words were pissing him off and he felt like his time was being wasted because now, he had to call Chan and find out from him what was going on. After another few moments of silence, Changbin sighs once more, “Okay, I’m hanging up now —”
“N-no, wait!” Hyunjin interrupts him, a slight tremor in his voice.
“Okay, now I’m waiting.”
“Today went well, and I know I already said that, let me finish,” rambles Hyunjin, the words slowly clawing their wait up his throat, “It’s just… it’s a lot nicer than I thought it would have been. They’re super kind and welcoming to me even though I was a complete asshole to them.”
Changbin smiles victoriously to himself, ecstatic to finally hear this simple, yet salient confession out of the younger boy, “Oh, that’s good then. Sounds like they’re doing their best to make it work.”
“Yes, but I also… feel really bad about it too,” Hyunjin grimaces at the guilt he had been trying to ignore, it sneaking up to the forefront of his mouth as he speaks, “I really don’t think I deserve any of this from them, but they’re treating me sorta like nothing ever happened before and it’s a little weird to get use to this side of them. The more I realize how wrong I was about them, the shittier I feel.”
“Man, I don’t blame you, but I think you gotta give yourself some credit. It sounds like you both are handling this weird situation the best you can. Have you told them this?”
“Yeah, and that’s what makes this feel worse. They were so sweet about it, they comforted me when I was the one who hurt them,” groans Hyunjin, pinching the bridge of his nose as he squeezes his eyes shut, “And they… they said they need time to forgive me, which is fine! I get that entirely, but… I don’t think I’ll be able to forgive myself until they do?”
“Mhm, I understand what you’re feeling isn’t easy, but don’t you think you should at least try to be nicer to yourself? I mean… It sounds like Y/N cares about you enough, and if they want you to feel better about the situation, shouldn’t you try for their sake?”
“I guess, but it’s not that easy, Changbin –”
“I never said it was easy,” Changbin responds pointedly, “But wallowing up in guilt is no way to be living either, I’m sure Y/N knows that too and doesn’t want you beating yourself up this much about it when you’re both trying to move forward.”
“I don’t know…”
“Just give it a try, it won’t hurt. You can hold yourself accountable and still be nice to yourself. Alright, but I have to go now, so byeee!”
Hyunjin frowns, “Wait, no, you’re supposed to tell me–” only for him to be cut off by the sound of the call ending, “... what Y/N said…”
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Hyunjin decided to take both yours and Changbin’s advice to heart and do his very best to practice compassion, yet he forgot how terribly difficult that was until the next day arrived. In theory, it should be simple to just be nicer to himself, but his heart kept contorting and aching with guilt throughout the day, it becoming too much to bear as he tried to figure out how to control that emotion. He had to eventually learn to be in your presence without that harrowing, bottomless pit that would form in his stomach, especially if you two were going to be costars for the rest of filming.
So here he was, his face and ears tinged with red as he sat across you on a picnic blanket, an assortment of foods between you two, and a gentle breeze causing locks of your hair to dance. Despite the chilly weather, Hyunjin could feel himself being covered in what he can only describe as a cold sweat while his stomach flipped onto himself. He was nervous, anxious even, and he had zero clue on how to deal with what he called guilt, shame, humiliation. He wasn’t sure which word was the best descriptor for this very moment, but he could barely sit still, constantly fidgeting as he tried to turn his gaze away from you, hoping the blues of the lake would ease his nerves that had not stopped rapid firing since noon. 
“You okay?” You ask, lifting a sushi piece to your mouth as you eyed Hyunjin with a cocked up eyebrow.
He freezes up for a moment, before forcing a nervous smile with a nod, “Oh, yeah, I’m fine!” He tries to force his voice into a more cheery tone, but he can tell you could see right through him. Somehow, you could read the faintest microexpressions from him, but he’s thankful to see you shrug your shoulders and not press on any further. It was almost as if you had the ability to read his mind, knowing when it was right to question his behavior or just let him revel in his own thoughts.
“Well, you should eat some more! I need some help finishing all this food Changbin ordered for us,” you laugh, picking up a piece of sushi between your chopsticks and lifting it towards him, “Here, open up!” you say in a teasing tone.
He rolls his eyes, “You know, I can feed myself,” but he felt his stomach bubble up with inexorable nerves, his words almost getting caught in his throat. You playfully pout at his words, “Oh, c’mon, just eat it! I know you want to.” You wiggle the sushi in front of his face in some poor attempt to entice him, but it was only causing him to become uncomfortably warm as he did his best to look anywhere that wasn’t your face. “Fine, fine,” he responds, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible as he opens his mouth as you plop the sushi into it, the beating of his heart thumping loudly in his ears. 
“Good, right?” You smile.
He nods his head, his eyes crinkling at the overwhelming flavor as hums in agreement, “Wow, yeah, which one was that?” 
“Mmm, I think that one is toro salmon? I’m not sure,” you giggle at his reaction, feeling pleased with yourself that you managed to whittle away at the awkwardness he wore around you. Hyunjin was constantly on edge around you, the nerves obvious in the frown lines of his forehead, and while you could understand why, you were hoping he would start to loosen up around you as time went on. Despite everything that has occurred over the past two years, you were starting to yearn for the friendship you and Hyunjin once had and wished to be able to return to that comforting time. 
However, it was never that simple, as your desire for his friendship was often overshadowed with memories of his cruel words, how easily he spat them out to you without a moment of hesitation. A moment of innocent banter could just take you back to that time because somehow, his banter and cruelty shared a similar inflection, just enough to cause your eyes to prick with tears if you noticed it. The lasting impact his words had on you was a stark reminder for you to not so easily forgive him, to not forget what he was once capable of. But no matter how hard you tried to look past it and solely focus on your friendship with him, there was this inexplicable rift between you two, a hurdle neither you could just quite jump over, though perhaps it was this mutual understanding that allowed you both to understand each others’ quietness. It was strange, you two had become strangers that understood the language your souls’ whispered, but neither retained that fluency and were struggling to recall the words you once spoke.
The silence returns, enveloping you both as the wind hushedly howls, the sounds of birds chirping filling in the empty pages of dialogue as you each continue to eat. Every now and then someone would comment on the food, how good it tasted and thanking God for letting Changbin set up such a delicious day, finishing the last bits of sashimi that was left on the plate.
“Oh jeez, I’m so full,” you mutter, sleepiness slowly creeping its way into your body, “Ah, but we gotta take pictures, I don’t wanna deal with a whiny Changbin.”
Hyunjin snorts, knowing all too well the fit his manager would throw if his date plans were not followed through, especially when he made it clear to the both of you that he wanted proof that you two actually did take those pictures. All he wanted was for each of you to take photos of the other, a mini photoshoot by the lake, while also insisting it would be a great post for either of your instagrams. “Yeah, let's not do that to ourselves.” He lifts himself up from the floor, anxiously offering a hand to help you up, quickly retracting after you stood while ignoring the electric nerves bouncing at the palm of his hands. 
“I’ll take your pictures first, okay?” You say, your phone already in hand as you gesture to him to stand in front of the lake, “Luckily, the sun is out, so maybe we will get some nice photos to post,” you add on. Meanwhile, Hyunjin, very stiffly, stood ahead of you, unsure what to do with his body and how to pose. Normally, he is good at this kind of stuff, he has done plenty of photoshoots in the past, but he was terrified at the thought of embarrassing himself in front of you. Before, he had never once had this concern, this worry, he didn’t know why these thoughts kept forming each time he thought of you. It clouded his mind, preventing him from seeing any logic or reason. “Alright, model boy, do your thing, I know you know how to work the camera,” you call out, snapping Hyunjin out of his trance. 
If he wasn’t sweating before, he most definitely was now as he body overheated under the sudden pressure he put onto himself as he robotically posed, and you, as always, couldn’t help but notice the lack of elegance he usually carried himself with. “Oh, c’mon, what’s up with you today?” 
“I… I don’t know, I’m just nervous… I think?”
“Well, I can see that,” you sigh, placing a hand on your hip, “But, you got no reason to be! It’s just me!”
“I think it being you is the issue,” he murmurs out, not really meaning for the words to slip out his mouth.
You press your lips into a straight line, “Right, I get that. Sooo, how about you pretend it’s not me taking the pictures, but Changbin?”
Hyunjin breathes out a sarcastic laugh, “Oh, yea, that will totally work, you make a very convincing Changbin.”
“Oh, right, let me just-” you roll up the sleeves of your shirt, exposing your biceps as you make a poor attempt to flex them, “How about now, is this working?”
Hyunjin found himself laughing loudly at your very sudden and unexpected antics, his stomach flipping onto itself as a flurry of affection rushed over him. You looked absolutely ridiculous, yet something about it was incredibly endearing despite the goofiness that radiated off of you. However, the sound of the camera shuttering from your phone quickly made him pause his laughter. “Hm, I think you look pretty cute in this,” you smile, turning the screen towards him to see you had captured a photo of him in the midst of his giddiness. He felt his cheek flush at your words, the shyness that had temporarily disappeared made its presence known. “I guess it’s not bad, just… a little different from what I usually post online.”
“Good different, right?” You ask, a smile still gracing features as the sun kisses your features, the wind gently brushing through your hair. 
“Definitely a good different.”
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taglist (closed): @kopikokrunch @icouldntcareless22 @kidrauhlschik @hhwangsmoon @lestayzone @cupidcures @sleepyxxhead @pinkpunkdynamite @kaiyaba @palindrome969 @aokiss @annybah @tigerroarsinthelight @bubbly-moon @nattisbored @jin-from-the-block @hyuneyeon
66 notes · View notes
tarottaleteller · 1 day
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*Disclaimer: This reading is for fun and entertainment purposes only. It is in no way meant to act as or replace professional reading. Please take what resonates, leave what doesn't. All the pictures were taken from Pinterest.
Is it a pause or the end?
This reading is for those who have had someone significant in their lives but have lost touch, wondering if they'll ever reconnect again. Basically this reading will help you answer the question "Will our paths intertwine once more, or have they diverged permanently?". But please remember that this is a general reading, so take it with a grain of salt.
Pile 1
Hello, my dear pile 1, I feel like this was a kind of toxic relationship. And you realized it from the start. Your partner may have acted distant or cold, but you chose to overlook it because you really wanted to believe in the happy end. You may have been single for a long time before meeting that person, so you really clung to them hoping it’s the one. However, things didn’t work out, probably because you were tired of feeling like they just settled for you instead of wanting you like you wanted them. You were heartbroken, again, because you did think they were your soulmate, that you'll get your happily ever after with them. I’m sorry, pile 1, I don’t really see any reconciliation here. But that’s for the better! That person was NOT your soulmate, honey. You’ll meet someone much better and who’ll make you feel like the queen/king you are. Don’t settle, bestie.
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Pile 2
Sweet, soft, loving energy for you, Pile 2. The energy here is so pure and innocent to the point where it becomes fragile. It’s giving high school sweethearts. I feel like both of you might have been immature or had little experience when it came down to relationships. That could have been the reason why it eventually ended, both of you probably just grew out of it, maybe one of you felt like the other was taking a lot longer than them to act more or less like an adult. I think immaturity was the main reason for the break up. Both of yours or just one of the partner’s. I don’t necessarily see a reconciliation here, but yes, you might see them again in the future. However, you will realize that all of those romantic feelings are gone. Perhaps, you or both will already be in another happy, stable relationship. Both of you are just likely to treat each other like good old friends, but nothing more than that. 
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Pile 3
Damn, pile 3, whatever that relationship was, it was karmaaaa. So many indicators of karmic lessons, it’s crazy. I feel like you will get back with your person, because believe it or not, they still think about you sometimes, even if it’s been more than a year since you last talked. I feel like the lesson wasn’t fully learned, so fate might bring you guys back together to really LEARN this time. Since this is a general reading, I can not exactly pinpoint what the lesson is. Please try to analyze your emotions with that partner, how do they make you feel about yourself, etc. Your intuition will tell you what exactly about that partner triggers you, and that will be the first step towards healing. If you won’t do that, you guys can literally stay stuck in this cycle where it’s toxic being together, but heartbreaking to stay away. Justin and Selena kinda love. So, this is a pause, but not because you and that partner are endgame, but because there’s unfinished karmic business left between you two, and your souls need closure there. 
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Pile 4
Wow, pile 4. Right away, it was NOT the end. I feel like the relationship here ended before it really even began. But I would not call it a situationship either, because the feelings were actually deep and pure, and the intentions were pretty serious. There could have been a third party situation or a family member that didn’t approve of the union, and that’s why it fell apart. However, I am sure it felt like true love. I see that fate will make you meet again, but not in the near future. Next time you meet, you will both be grown and mature, and ready to fight all the bitches who come in the way haha. You will always have each other’s backs in everything. You might also both have enjoyed intellectual discussions together. They are just going to get better next time you meet them, trust me. The meeting will be unexpected. You both will be so shocked seeing each other, you will probably just freeze and stare at each other for a good minute before even saying anything. Which again just proves how much you meant to each other. Good luck, Pile 4!
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electricsynthesis · 2 days
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the way I conceive of the garrison era where the team (sans pidge) were all attending at the same time is so specific. like first of all, it’s important that you understand that I don’t just think that keith was an irritatingly competent child prodigy. I think keith was the best irritatingly competent child prodigy to grace the garrisons doors, ever. I think keith was that 1 in a million talent, the kind of talent that makes you want to claw your eyes out because he’s tiny and he’s insane and he’s MEAN but by god he can fly better than anyone. like. I don’t just think keith was the top of the sim scores. I think he was beating the records for the sim scores. Ever.
so if there’s one thing that causes groups of students to go insane it’s ^^ that. It’s knowing that there’s a guy Your Age who is not only better than you but is better than Anyone Else. mix in the fact that socially, keith is like a stray dog that’s been kicked too many times, and you have a bad combination.
I think keith got away with a lot because while he may be the star student of the century, takashi shirogane is the golden boy. he can do no wrong. A kind man with a charmed childhood who dreamed of the stars. joined the military for all the right reasons and none of the wrong ones. Isn’t a suck up but absolutely bows to authority like it’s his job. iverson fucking LOVES him. Has never raised his voice. he’ll chew keith out for 20 mins and then turn to shirogane and sweet like milk will be all…… well I guess it’s fine. I won’t give kogane detention I guess
everyone loves shiro and everyone has loved shiro since shiro entered the school at baby faced aged 15 with stars in his eyes. He’s 23 and getting married and there is a not a soul on this earth that dislikes him. so he shows up like :) so my foster brother is joining us this year! and he warns everyone that keith is “pretty shy” and “a little anxious & awkward” and everyone’s like awwww shiros baby brother is gonna be shy :) and then shiro carts in this 16 year old hell child who talks to no one unless directly addressed and even then has to get a Look from shiro before he’s like. Hi. and somehow it is the angriest sounding hi ever conceived. It’s not surly. It’s not whiney. He just sounds mad
and shiro now spends half his time gripping this random ass kid by the scruff of his neck (metaphorically and literally depending on the situation) and very kindly explaining to him that getting into Physical Altercations with his classmates does not beget learning. and he keeps using these goofy ass phrases that belong on a motivational poster. what the fuck is “patience yields focus”. What the hell does that even mean. but then it seems to WORK??? The kids like yeah. Patience yields focus. You’re right.
I don’t even think half the fights keith gets into are really the fault of his overactive temper. I think insecurity and teenaged immortality is going to be causing these children to treat keith like the dirt underneath their boots. I’m talking sabotage. Someone definitely tries the “is nice to him to get his guard down in order to sabotage something” trick but it doesn’t work because by the time keith is at the garrison he already hates the world and the children are FEEDING into this . and he isn’t going to take this with a stiff upper lip he’s fucking biting people
The reason he doesn’t remember lance is because keith was getting bullied by like 3 other people who were all actual fighter pilots in his class and shiro spent all his time talking keith out of doing the social version of chewing on electrical chords. Lance was unmemorable because he was harmless . a bit of a dick maybe but that wouldn’t have registered to keith at the time. he remembers hunk as a guy who bought him lunch once when he came into the cafeteria bleeding from multiple lip splits after having gotten his wallet stolen
The administration has wanted keith out of this school for like an entire year by the time shiro leaves for kerberos. The only reason he isn’t court martialed to hell for slamming someone’s head into a locker hard enough to bounce is because shiro hit iverson with the puppy dog eyes. once Shiro’s gone it’s a foregone conclusion and only a matter of time before keith’s getting the boot. even the most minor infraction is going to send his ass packing . They are waiting for him to even slightly fuck up. 1 feather out of place
he still manages to go out in a blaze of glory by punching iversons lights out so bad he breaks his nose. he’s five foot five and seventeen. Iverson is 6’3 and 45. It’s the greatest thing the entire student body has ever seen. lance feels something awaken in him
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