#could have named him copper | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fillinforlater · 5 months

Text

Maknae Royale

Male Reader x Jang Wonyoung, Wang Yiren, Lee Gahyeon, Park Sujin (Swan), Jeon Somi, Shin Yuna, Kim Yerim (Yeri), Im Yeojin (9some)

Length: 10.000 words

Tags: live action porn, porn game, fucking for points, Team Battle Royale, squirting kink, edging kink, bimbofication, brat taming, doggy, fingering, face riding, blue balling, jerking you off, titfuck, standing sex, step-bro I'm stuck, anal, creampie, anal creampie, eating out, blowjob, face fucking, deep throat, rough sex, missionary, full nelson, against the wall, piledriver, mating press, overstimulation, porn_star!you / porn_rookies!idols

TW: even after editing, this is messy and chaotic and pure sex lol

Inspiration: the idea of a Maknae focused fic is not new, but I just went all in. This is also based on this vote I send out a while ago lol. I think I can name drop @writerpeach cuz I remember him saying sth like that.

Credit: @erospandemos for the cover art! Thabk you very much!

(A/N: One year after C.Ollection, I'm trying my best to celebrate and repeat that craziness, have fun! The beginning is a reference to Labyrinth of the Six. This is the same universe but not a sequel!)

"I was looking for copper and I found gold!"

You turn off the purring engine of your car. It is clearly not as nice as the purring of the girl you were in balls deep mere minutes ago, but let's be honest, those purrs should not be compared; one is mechanical, the other borderline maniacal. You let out a sigh as you kill the annoying lights in your car to focus on the call you just accepted.

"Hi, is this really how you're greeting me?" you respond, letting your fingers glide over the steering wheel as you watch a single car pass by in the middle of this warm, humid night.

"Oh, man, stop complaining!" the director says and laughs. You can hear him type something on an old keyboard, each tap of his fingers obnoxiously loud. "I'm going to give you the opportunity of a lifetime—something this great, it needs no greeting."

You rub your nose, then the inside of your eyes filled with tiredness and exhaustion. She was needy tonight, you gave her two rounds, 140 minutes of a hard pounding until the clock struck a merciless 3am. Yes, you were counting the minutes, it was necessary. Otherwise Jiwon’s cunt would have drained you early, which is unbecoming of a porn actor of your caliber.

"Look," you halt the director's enthusiasm with a groan. "I'm doing good right now. Money—I got enough; my love-life is good too. Maybe I'll take a break for a couple of months until my next—"

"No, listen!" he shouts in absolute excitement, like he has been enlightened by the truth. "This script, it's so fucking good! It lit a fire in me, I can already see the setting, the actresses, you—it's perfect. This can even top your Labyrinth performance—you remember, the six hotties—"

"Of course I do!" There you go. Your heart beat is picking up in tempo. How could you forget the pleasure, the absolute thrill of having sex with six gorgeous women at the same time? Don’t kid yourself, this already felt like one in a million—to flat out reject another offer that could be of this magnitude would be absolutely foolish. “Fuck it. Send me the script, I’ll get back to you.”

“Oh, you will,” the director says, absolutely certain that you will accept in a heartbeat after reading this ominous script. “I’ll start looking for actresses.”

The script is complex, wild, otherworldly—implementing it took weeks of preparation. Luckily, your part in this clusterfuck is rather simple: be hard, go hard and stay hard. The first two are deeply rooted within you. Seeing the girls’ incredible faces and even greater bodies has you ready to get a raging erection at any time, while some of their slutty mannerisms and lewd words dripping from their tongues like venomous drool urge you to go as hard and rough as you can. Hell, they’ll basically beg for you—why would you hold back?

The only issue is that there are too many of them. No matter how hot they are or how horny you are, at some point there is nothing left. You will be drained and there is no shame in admitting defeat to them. So once again, you’ll have to resort to some performance enhancers to stay hard like a diamond while drilling into cave after cave. It’s a pink pill this time, tiny, you barely notice it, both in the palm of your hand and in your throat. Take a deep breath and feel it surely doing its job already.

You open your eyes in the midst of a studio room that looks like a submarine. Dim light, large, black holes around you, each with a large porthole-like door in the middle; it feels gloomy, mysterious, unsettling. A single camera is pointed at you, live streaming each droplet of sweat running down your face. Feel the artificial warmth of a nearby heater creep up your thin clothes, giving you chills. It cannot match the heat within you.

The red light atop the camera turns off. Sixty seconds from now, one of the portholes will open. The glass in them is blurry, obscuring any view of the chaos happening behind them. You of course know the script inside out, but the girls’ are still somewhat unknown. You’ve never seen them face to face, only in zoom calls, their bodies looked fantastic and because they are rookies, they should also be tight, but you don’t know how they will handle the pressure, all the eyes on them, the revealing outfits, the unbridled sex—

Around thirty seconds now. You grab your trousers and feel blood rushing out of your legs. Feet tingle, the tips of your fingers as well. This pill, it has your heart racing somewhere, racing from something, to anything. Eyes tremble, vision blurrier than the glass before you, behind you, around you.

You’ve never felt more alive and dead at the same time.

With a loud hiss, the porthole to your left swings open, wide open, flooding your entirely empty room with copious amounts of fog and the smell of fresh fruits. The vibrant color scheme of pastel pink, magenta, light purple and white fills your view as you step into what looks like Princess Peach’s private castle, its kitchen, living room and bedroom. It’s like one explosion of cuteness and innocence, quite charming, very fake.

“Oh, he’s already here. Look, Barbie!”

“That’s not my name, Yiren. Hello, handsome stranger!”

The two girls fit the concept of the room perfectly. Such bright smiles, happiness pouring from their cute little faces; you knew they would nail this performance the moment you saw their pictures and heard their voices. Wonyoung, the tall girl with her incredibly long legs truly looks like a Barbie doll: tiny ribbons adorn her endless chocolate hair while the pink crop top and straight denim skirt make you want to play with her all night, undress her everywhere.

Yiren on the other hand blends in with the room to such a degree, you’d assume they cannot be sold separately. The chinese girl boasts hair the color of peaches, her tight white dress sparkles because of small, silver details spread across it, while her face leaves no doubt that she is, in fact, a princess.

The two get closer to you, before Wonyoung starts to speak up again, her voice in a sassy, yet genuinely adorable pitch.

“Aw, are you shy? No need to be, we’re all here to have fun. Isn’t that right, Yiren?”

“You’re right, Barbie. Let’s play some games and make it a night we won’t forget,” Yiren adds, quieter and calmer than Wonyoung, with a smile that warms the heart.

“S-sure,” you respond to the two girls bouncing up and down in front of you like hyped up kangaroos. “B-but what are we going to play?”

“You see,” Wonyoung starts. “Yiren and I are a team and we have a mission to fulfill. Can you help us?”

“I’d love to, but what is the mission?”

Yiren turns towards Wonyoung, who’s already grinning at her. They share a nod and Yiren suddenly wraps herself around one of your arms, while Wonyoung occupies the other. Feel their slender bodies rub on your limbs, their natural heat and rapid heartbeats working towards your own, increasing it with every step they guide you towards a bed in the corner of the room. It’s at least double queensized, filled with pillows, blankets and stuffed animals.

“Let me explain it to you,” Wonyoung says and climbs atop the purple sheets. “Our mission is to make this bed as wet as possible.”

“Well that sounds easy,” you respond. “Just get some tap water and dump it on here.”

“That’s what I thought too,” Yiren whispers in your ear and suddenly places her hands all over your back and chest.

“No tap water, only natural juices are allowed,” Wonyoung hums and her hands casually open her skirt. It falls on the bed and she is quick to kick it away. She looks even more tempting and ruinable in her tiny tight panties with a wet teddy bear on the front. “We need your help to get these juices out of us, pretty please?”

“Yes, pretty please?” Yiren adds and cups the bulge in your pants. “It will be so much fun, I promise. Doesn’t Barbie look tight? Don’t you want to fuck her until she bursts?”

“Fuck, yes.”

“Splendid,” Wonyoung laughs and throws away her crop top as well. Meanwhile Yiren finds the hem of your pants and tugs them down oh-so easily, the only resistance is your hard member, which Yiren promptly points at her team partner who has her legs spread invitingly.

She’s so hot.

As if she read your mind, Yiren tempts you into finally going hard:

“She looks so hot. Go fuck her.”

Like a tiger desperate for food, you crawl onto the bed and tackle your prey into a mountain of teddy bears. Your fingers find the very specific teddy bear on Wonyoung’s panties, you push it to the side to find a pink slit. A final look at her glistening eyes before you press your cock onto her equally glistening slit and after some adjustments, you enter her.

Wonyoung shrieks cutely, her thin fingers wrap around your biceps’ and she holds onto them as you start to slowly pump into her. The two of you need time to realize where you are, what you’re doing, how you’re doing it. All acting for the camera is gone in this bliss, at least for a couple of seconds. Then it all comes back with Yiren, eagerly who jumps on the bed as well.

“You need to hurry up, we don’t have forever.”

You slip a hand under Yiren’s dress to quickly shut her up. No panties.

“How about you start helping, princess,” you fight back. “Go rub Wonyoung’s clit while you ride my fingers. Oh, and Wonyoung.”

“Ye-yes?” the young girl moans.

“Open your mouth wide. I need you to drool on these.”

Both Yiren’s pussy lips and Wonyoung’s normal lips—though their lusciousness and thickness is far from mere ‘normal’—part as soon as your fingers graze them. The latter is quick to slobber all over them while you recklessly pump them into her; Yiren still has reservations and instead opts to look at you with adorable glassy eyes.

“I-I feel so full,” she moans, shivers throughout her entire body. You softly smile at her and start to curl your fingers, purposefully dragging them alongside her walls while your palm reaches her clit. “Ah, i-it feels—”

Holy shit. Whatever chemical they put into this pill, it has a tendency to just kill your patience. In what can only be described as a loss of all control, your body only moves towards fulfilling the mission. Your fingers start to violently pump into Yiren’s pussy and Wonyoung’s mouth, both quickly spilling liquids out of them. Especially Wonyoung, the Barbie girl below you, becomes a dispenser of juices when you violently fuck into her tight pussy.

“Too fast, ah!” Yiren screams, her hands wrapped around your wrist, unable to prevent the surge of lust in your body.

“Fuck, sorry. I can’t stop me.” You groan, not really sorry about the stuff happening to you, to them and—oh God! Wonyoung’s tiny frame, those cute hard abs, get bulged by your massive erection. A bit of skin and muscles, pushed up by your relentless thrusts, and she is also seeing it. Is she panicking, losing her mind to how you violate almost her entire body?

Her pussy is quick to give you an answer: like a broken, public fountain, she shoots water at you, suddenly soaking your body in her warm pussy juices. With their strong, lewd smell they are the perfect liquid to stain the sheets, more than your balls or her drool can produce. Much to your dismay, most of the nectar gets stuck on you.

“Fuck, turn around,” you command the thin fuckdoll and because she is too enamored by her heavy orgasm—her tiny thighs and long legs trembling up high in the air—you grab her hips and spin her around. Now in Doggy, you keep her upright by pulling her chestnut colored hair and plunge back into her still twitching cunt.

Wonyoung is completely overwhelmed. Instead of the cute, girlie moans you’d expect from her pretty lips, she grunts uncontrollably, her voice still hoarse from your fingers that played with her mouth. The grunts, however, are nothing compared to the wet sounds coming from her pussy as you thrust into the warm cavern, desperate to get more out of it.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” both you and Wonyoung groan. The tips of her fingers dig deep into a soft stuffed toy while yours knead her soft butt. The sight of it is amazing; not a big dumpy, like you’ve seen on countless actresses, but so flawlessly smooth with an impossibly tiny asshole you one day need to get your tongue into.

“Pl-please, me-me too.”

Yiren crawls closer to you, her skirt pulled up, her cunt a leaking mess that needs something inside it. The live action fucking in front of her has her on the edge, ready to do her part to fulfill the mission, but you are too mesmerized by Wonyoung.

“Wony, lick her pussy. Get your tongue into her, fuck!” you shout, lost in your frenzy.

The barely thinking, barely functioning Barbie gets her hands onto Yiren’s thighs, at first only breathing, hissing, moaning into the princess’ crotch. It’s enough for Yiren to finally take the lead, forcing Wonyoung’s face straight onto her puffy lips, and the younger surrenders. She kisses and licks all over Yiren’s delicious cunt, the bundle of nerves atop it never left out. Yiren shudders.

“Oh God, oh Go~d, fuck!”

Yiren is louder than a fucking bomb when she explodes onto Wonyoung’s face and more importantly, the bed. Her nectar splashes all over the sheets, their color darkening beneath her knees. Finally, the three of you have made significant progress, and you are eager to make more. Especially Wonyoung seems to be more turned on than before; her pussy is even tighter, her walls ripple as she continues to eat Yiren out.

“You like that, huh? Your face deep in her pussy?” you ask her and give her cute ass a firm spank. “Such a dirty princess!”

“Yesh!” Wonyoung shouts, pressing her behind into your pistoning cock.

“You like my cock fucking you senseless, getting into your insides? You want it all, deeper?”

“Yesh, pleash!”

“Try to push me out, Wonyoung, squeeze me with your stupid little pussy!”

“Ah, shit, fuck! I’m—”

Yiren shuts her team partner up by grinding on her face. It’s enough to send Wonyoung into an orgasmic frenzy—again—and the moment you pull out, she squirts—again—everywhere. It was amazing, absolute bliss for you, but you are not there yet. You need to cum, inside a hot, clenching hole and so you disrupt the two princess’ love making.

Yiren fits perfectly into your hand. She is almost as light as Wonyoung, so you pick her up and place her on the head of the bed. The young woman is still frozen in surprise, her eyes uncertain, then shocked when you spread her legs wide and align your cock with her pussy.

“Oh God, it’s t-too big,” she whines even before you’re inside her.

“You can take it, Yiren, you’re such a good and pretty princess,” you mindlessly groan as you stare at her, then her nipple peeking out above her increasingly bunched up dress. “Now cum all over me.”

Yiren is too easy. Only a few strokes of your cock alongside her velvety walls and her entire body ripples. It starts with her cunt, soon goes to her torso and limbs, before she squirts like a broken garden hose. If the bed was a garden, countless flowers would bloom in it—and Wonyoung wants to make sure you stay to help them.

“You have to stay,” she whines. “Stay inside her and make her cum again.” She pushes you, forces you to almost slip inside Yiren again. From the corner of your eye however you see a red light, the indicator that you have to switch scenes right now.

“I think I did enough.” You pull away Wonyoung’s slender arms and Yiren’s feet trying to get you back inside her. “Get some toys or use your fingers. I’m not playing for your team, you need to play together.”

Yeah, sure, something like that was in the script. Luckily, even these two remember that the show must go on. At least Wonyoung does. The Barbie gets handsy, waving you goodbye while plunging her beautiful, long fingers into Yiren's cunt. What a waste that you won’t cum on those digits tonight.

"Have fun~" Wonyoung cheers as you disappear from her view, towards the next porthole which is already open.

Before you can take in the next setting fully, a nude, masked woman greets you by pulling your face down into her sizable cleavage.

"Quick, get him in here," another voice, feminine yet deep, straightforward yet mysterious, calls and you feel hands all over your body, as they drag you into the room. You only catch glimpses of its interior, a dark, unsettling dungeon with iron bars and cold, smooth walls, akin to the setting of certain Japanese videos you—a friend of yours—used to watch—for scientific reasons.

"Here, pin him down."

That voice just now is truly incredible, if only you could see who it belongs to. Unluckily, you only get to see the ceiling as four hands throw you onto a table. Those two are strong, you think, because your back hurts at the impact.

Suddenly, your view gets replaced by a smooth pussy and jiggly thighs trapping your head on the wooden surface. You take deep breaths, the strong smell of arousal quickly filling your nose. A finger boldly flicks your cockhead.

"Oh, you're really turning him on, Gah," the other woman says, your pulsating cock in her fist. "Ride his face, and I think we’ll get our first points soon."

"Wh-who are you?" you barely squeeze out, words drowned out by drowning in Gahyeon's pussy juice.

"I'm Swan, but we don't have time for that. We need to win this game, which is why you have to suffer.

"Sorry, by the way."

Before you can respond, Swan's fist goes up and down your length with the violence and speed of a raging tiger, ready to fucking destroy you. Tears spawn in your eyes, precum at your tip. She drives you to the edge and keeps you there with rhythmic pumps while you imagine her face in horny delight.

"Is he there yet?" Gahyeon asks, her voice raspy and cruel.

"Why don't you ask him?" Swan responds and twirls her tongue around your balls. You twitch.

Gahyeon lifts a leg and her deadly eyes stare through a terrifying mask right at you. "Tell me when you're about to explode,” she snarks and to put emphasis on her following words, she presses a long finger nail into your abdomen. “If not, I'll kill you.

“And start licking, for fucks sake.”

She plants herself back down before you can answer. She can live with your eager tongue on her thick folds as an analogical agreement. Through Gahyeon’s almost soundproof thighs you hear her passionate groans and Swan’s continuous spitting in her hands and on your cock to get you wet and ready for more of her soft hands.

You can’t deny that they are excellent. Yiren and Wonyoung both had tight, cozy holes, but something about Swan grabbing your dick and mercilessly pumping and twisting it makes your spine tingle. She quickly gets you to arch your back and moan into Gahyeon’s pussy, which has started to glide back and forth over your visage.

“Such a nice cock,” Swan moans. “Look at it, Gah! The head is already burning, I can feel that he’s close.”

Swan puts her second hand on your base and presses her lubed up palm on your underside while she starts to destroy your tip with violent pumps. She is a vicious succubus, trying to get your seed out efficiently without care for your sensitivity. With Gahyeon using your face like a saddle, your mind is left on hold when you loudly tap the table to signal your imminent arrival.

“Swan, now!”

The moment Gahyeon shouts, Swan is gone. No more delicate fingers to hold you, no more fists to jerk you, nothing to stimulate you. You thrust your hips up into air, unable to cum, unable to get your well-deserved release. Those fleeting seconds where you want only one thing are absolutely ruined by not getting this one thing—and then it’s over. You come back down with a devastated sigh.

“That’s one,” Gahyeon says and looks down at you in between her legs. “But we need more.”

“I agree,” Swan says, adjusting her position in between your shivering legs. “Get him to cooperate, I’ll do the rest.”

Gahyeon once again is faster than your attempts at remonstration. She puts her small hand on your throat and carefully increases the amount of weight on it. You gasp in dread before Swan places your still hard cock in the valley of her enormous tits. The valley then turns to a compressed trap where only your glans peeks out.

'Oh fuck', you want to, need to scream but it's futile with Gahyeon's enthusiasm to rub her labia on your lips. Swan shows a very similar need to torture you, her hands eagerly digging into the flesh of her melons and moving them up and down—both at the same time, then at different times, faster, then slower but with more pressure—is she trying to get you killed?

Death by titfuck. That will be an eyecatching epitaph.

"Do it faster," Gahyeon orders her teammate emphatically. "We need to get the score up."

"I know," Swan says, her voice a bit strained. "It's just unfair, you know? Getting him ready again and all that. But I think, fuck, we’re getting there. Look at his tip, isn't it cute?"

Swan licks the slit on your cockhead, cleaning the precum from it and you have to tap out again. You are so close once more, but a terrible gut feeling lets you doubt that you will cover Swan's tits with your cream. You’ve never felt so sick about being right, when she pops you free from the heavens between her large breasts.

They are right there, God dammit.

"That's number two!" Swan gleefully shouts and looks at your pole, pointing at the sky, sensitive and ready to explode, but your balls turn blue again. This can't be healthy, with how frustrated it makes you.

"Use your mouth this time, Swan—"

"Oh yeah? Why don't you do something for once?"

"Huh? We agreed on this earlier! I'm doing my part! Look, he can't even say a word."

"Pl-please," you interrupt the girls' discussion. "Let me, please, let me cum already!"

"Sorry, pal." Swan's voice is soft, and her tongue on your dick is even softer. "But we need to ruin you even more. That's how we're going to win."

"Th-then ruin your own orgasms," you plead with numbness in your mouth, caused by Swan's mouth on your barely numb manhood. "Th-this is cruel."

"He's got a point," Gahyeon thinks out loud. "Ah, fuck this game. If you can get me close, boy, I'll let you escape."

This might be your only chance to get out of this vicious cycle of ruined orgasm and painful edging. So you actually channel all your focus of your lips, tongue and teeth—whatever Gahyeon likes—on her clit. It's surprisingly easy to make her thighs around your ears squirm; Gahyeon's pussy is now wetter than Swan's mouth wrapped around your cockhead.

Suddenly, Swan gives you everything. She forces you to bottom out in her mouth, grow to full hardness once more while she violently gags. She might have been in absolute control over you for the last couple of minutes, but she is perfectly able to make her mouth a slutty hole for your cock. A soft, dominant deepthroat queen with massive tits—she is going to be a super star.

In a surge of ecstasy, fueled by Gahyeon's sweet juice, you buckle your hips upwards and force Swan to choke a little longer on your length. The young woman is not irritated however. After a single breathe she is back to going up and down you cock, sucking along it until your fucking dead.

You know she's going to ruin it again and the only way to pay them back is by ruining Gahyeon's orgasm as well. You finger the pussy above you and quickly flick the blood-filled lips and nub, until she cries out. Then you stop, then Swan stops. She is the only one satisfied—another two points for her team.

You blink a couple of times. Gahyeon, groaning like an enraged bull, has the busty Swan pinned to the metal bars of this dungeon and with all her hatred, slaps the younger's wet cunt.

"Now it's your turn, bitch!"

"Ouch, stop!"

"No. I want to win and you want to win too, so you better ruin yourself on my fingers. Now!"

This is your cue to leave. The dungeon fills with Swan's deep grunts and groans as she finally gets to witness what she put you through again and again and again. You'd love to help Gahyeon; there will be no need for it though. The masked girl is willing to do whatever is necessary to win.

Across from the dungeon, the second to last door is already open. The room mimics a dimly lit laundromat with a dozen or so washing machines. You step inside, cock in your carefully stroking hand. After all, you’ll have to be hard for the next scene, which will be the complete opposite of the last.

“Hello? Can somebody help me?” someone cries (let’s be honest, it’s much closer to a desperate moan) from behind a pile of freshly dried laundry atop a clothes rack. There is a sincere lack of intelligence in that cry, like said person is unable to help themselves. Makes you feel chivalrous.

“Hey, how can I—help you?”

The sight you find behind the pile has your speech a bit halted, interrupted by how, in a room made for washing clothes, someone is severely lacking them: A gorgeous, busty blonde, in nothing but modest, white underwear, though you notice that the bra is at least a size too small and unable to fully carry the weight of her tits.

"Oh, please help me," she moans again. "I think I've picked the wrong bra for me. Can you help me cover so no one can see my boobies while I look for the next?"

What the fuck? This is so fucking stupid on so many levels. How could she—and why would she suggest—what is even happening? The cliche about blondes must be true, because this one is not only dumb as fuck, but also hotness at it's peak. From bust to bottom, no, even to her toes, her body is amazing and tempting.

"Uhm, sure, why not. Can I know your name first?" you politely ask while not so politely getting behind her and cupping her breasts.

"I'm Somi. Thank God your hands are so big, no one can see my boobies now, hihi."

Is it innate for her to sound this silly? If not for this setting, you’d be worried; no human can ever be this stupid, only a buffoon would act in such a way. But maybe Somi’s IQ is just a bit lower than the average person—or maybe she knows no boundaries? The rules of public decency and inappropriate, sexual exposure might be foreign to her? You don’t know. You just know that her boobs are soft and bouncy, two handfuls of pillows to rest your head upon, of stress balls to knead when you are, you know, stressed.

You seem to know a lot more than her, especially because she still tries to find a bra able to hold up her breasts in the midst of clothes which all have two things in common: they are colorful and they are skimpy. It’s like the laundry of a whorehouse with how many short and skin tight skirts, dresses, fishnet stockings you find, let alone the short tops or all the lingerie. Speaking of which, Somi has finally found a bikini top that might be able to do the deed your hands are gleefully doing.

“Do you think this one is good?” she asks, holding up a new, purple bra while you slightly press at the bottom of her tits to watch them wobble on your finger tips.

“Try it out, because I’m not so sure with your massive boobs.”

Somi giggles and tries to put on the bra. You leave enough room, really, you do, for her to tie up the thin strands, but Somi is unable to. She mewls a couple of times before you go in and securely tie up the strands yourself. You are promptly rewarded, because the blonde decides to bend down and press her ass back against your crotch, your exposed cock, rapidly hard again at the touch of her cotton panties.

“Thank you, again,” Somi says and pushes her chest up for all to see. “What do you think, is this good?”

“Somi, is it possible that you are fucking stupid?” Oh, that sounded a lot harsher than it should have. The tension is quickly palpable. You hear someone gasp from the other end of the room.

“W-why?” Somi’s question is abashed, a bit shocked; even in this state of complete bimboness, she still looks so good.

“Because these bottoms don’t fit your top,” you say and pull at the side of her panties until they snap off of her hips. “You should change them. White and purple don’t fit together all too well.”

Somi looks down at her cleavage, the purple lace engulfing her tits, then to her thighs which have been parted by your cock. The tip peaks from in between her legs and you softly groan out the pleasure her perfect gap gives you into her ear. There is no mere hint of slickness from her heat, there are ridiculous amounts of evidence of it, proof spreading all over. It’s a clear case of horniness, you better resolve the issue immediately.

“You’re right,” Somi mumbles, thighs swaying. “I should look for the right bottoms. They should be in here.” Things couldn’t get any better, because now Somi is bending over, hands in the pile of clothes, while your hands are in the plentifulness of her ass. You hold her steady, align your cock with a hole that looks so ready to get fucked and then push forward. Somi almost stumbles forward, but you save her from making an even greater mess of this place by continuing to make a mess out of her.

“Oh God,” she moans, a pink crop top in hands. “I-I can’t find it.”

“Continue, continue searching,” you groan back and slam your hips forward, then backwards, your cock entering and exiting her cunt at will—your will is strong, overpowering every small exhaustion in chase of that first true release of this messy pornographic shoot, a shoot where teams fight to win, yet this “team” does not even have a target goal.

Somi’s goal is to be stupid, oblivious to your cock gaping her pussy open time and time again, and for this being her first time on cam, she is excellent. Of course, her dumb moans can’t be deactivated, you doubt even a ball gag can fully do that, but a benevolent interpretation of this scene allows for these moans to be of desperation. Somi just really wants to find these purple bikini bottoms—your cock spreading her pussy and the camera lens on it is just a side product.

“Da-damnit, fuck,” Somi seems to give up, defeatedly grabbing the edge of the table while you hold onto her shoulders to get faster, deeper inside of her. “They are not h-here.”

“Maybe you need to take a step back and look at it from afar,” you tell her and all it takes is a pull at her shoulders and Somi stands straight up. From now on, your thrusts go upwards and Somi can casually bounce along while her dizzy eyes try to process the color purple amidst a pile so colorful, every pride parade would become envious.

Your arms instinctively wrap around Somi’s small waist. You need to keep her here, can’t let her get away, not when you are this close to finally cumming. Your balls are aching, your tip is stimulated and you know that it will be glorious. Somi’s body, from a face that could make news just for its beauty, paired with a pair of perky, large boobs, amplified by a tight, muscular midriff, killer hips and strong, full thighs, she has to be everyone’s type.

People will click on her videos millions of times, yet you are about to be the first to cream her, you can call dibs on that pussy, no male rival co-star stands a chance. Your cock is ready, your legs able to give more power into the final thrusts when suddenly—

“Oh, I found it!”

—Somi leans forward, hand stretched out, ready to grab what has always been on top of this entire pile, in your view forever, in everyone’s view forever, only Somi took forever to find it: purple panties. No, they can’t ruin your perfect orgasm. You heartlessly push Somi against the table, head first into the laundry. Her scream now muffled by a dozen of clothes in her face, you manically fuck your load into her doggy until cum floods her cavern and clothes flood the laundromat floor.

Every part of you is twitching, so is Somi and her pussy. A bit more, a bit more, she squeezes out of you, but she is full. In the midst of all this chaos, this silly, flushed bitch was able to grab the panties. You give her tits a harsh slap to awaken her from the cock induced slumber.

“Put them on, quick, before we make a bigger mess.”

Somi obliges, though shaky. You help her by holding onto her hips, her tits, all those things you could grab forever. When your shaft falls out of her pussy and you watch her catch most of your load with the tight panties, you want to push them to the side and just fuck her full pussy again. That’s when you notice someone down the aisle of washing machines—is it Somi’s teammate?

“Who the fuck is th—”

“Help, I’m stuck!”

This one is a classic. A trope so beyond stereotypical, everyone knows it. Just like the dumb blonde, this one can be found on every porn site ever. The only thing missing is that she calls you stepbro. That would be a bit too much though. Her ass sticking out of one of the washing machines while she absolutely tries to get back out of it is already cliche enough to you.

Oh yeah, she’s also completely naked.

“Oh no, Yuna is stuck!” Somi states the exposition for the viewer, who is utterly uninvolved in the engaging plot they stopped paying attention to since this video's thumbnail. “We need to help her!”

Somi waddles towards her partner. You see trails of cum running down her legs, unceremoniously dropping to the floor and making a lewd, sticky mess of it. She seems unbothered, just like you, and the camera absolutely loves it. The view then switches from this to a new, exposed and impressively large ass.

“Help, help,” Yuna shouts again, metallic reverberation unable to dampen the stupidness in her voice. You had filmed a scene like this one already, but there are no complaints whatsoever. As long as you can get your hands on Yuna’s ass, pull those cheeks apart and get the first view of those two smooth, clean holes, why would you complain?

“How did this happen, Yuna?” Somi asks worriedly, arms alongside Yuna’s frame, definitely ‘pulling’ on her teammate's waist, while your mind imagines all the ways you could rim Yuna for hours.

“I wanted to pull my underwear out of here,” she responds with a whine. “But now I am stuck!”

Go figure, she is brainless as well. Both of them are, but nature has instead given them the envy of millions of women: divine bodies that are effortlessly sexy and beautiful. Smooth skin, toned legs, curves to die for—in your admiration you notice that your energy is returning quicker than ever before.

It might not fit the story, the narrative, the game, but in this moment of bliss, you couldn’t care less. Knees bend, cock guided by your thumb, you press your tip against Yuna’s ring and find the entry into her asshole to be a lot easier than expected. Her moan bounces through the washing machine just like her boobs bounce in surprise.

Confusion has Somi frozen, her body only reacting when you put force in your thrusts, enough power to make Yuna hit her dumb head against the back of the washing drum. A profuse whimper made metallic, not that you care, but Somi seems to get back into the real world where she is still as moronic as before.

“H-how is this supposed to help Yuna?”

It’s not. Tell her that. Tell her and Somi will continue complaining like this without getting any pleasure from you. Serves her right, won’t make the scene any better though, thus you find her neck with your hand and find her eyes with yours. They sparkle knowingly.

“You really are the dumbest thing alive.”

A pull and Yuna is out of the drum. Blonde hair flows down her back, hides her frail shoulders and in the reflection of the metal drum you see her lips in a light, glistening pink. They are full and made for sucking. In the sea of her endless, golden hair, your hand twists and twists until Yuna voluntarily raises herself from the ground and arches her back towards you. Your goal is not to kiss her lips (though that would be one hell of an experience) but to drown her in Somi’s cleavage.

“What are you—Yuna! No, don’t pull it down, I-I just found it.”

Sweat evaporates from your temple when you see those lips wrap around one of Somi’s nipples and begin to lewdly suck on it. The thrill is engaging, Yuna’s ass invites you back in and it’s with ease that you fuck her puckered hole. You poke the depths of this suffocating cavern and Yuna begins to poke all over Somi’s body. The dumber blonde hesitates briefly, hands first on her thighs, then Yuna’s until she ends up below her friend.

“Now you are trapped,” Yuna giggles and drool leaves her mouth in purposefully large amounts, able to transform the valley between Somi’s tits into a canal.

“You two are so fucking stupid, fuck, fuck your hot bodies.”

You are starting to lose it, for every word they utter, your intelligence gets insulted but your arousal heightened. You spank Yuna’s ass and she tightens to the point where you need to give it your all to fuck her faster. What an odd time to notice that they haven’t told you their task yet. How can you help them get points? Shit, what was in the script again? Are you really that much smarter if you can’t remember?

“Yuna, Yuna, that feels so good,” Somi moans out and sways on the floor from side to side until you press Yuna right on top of her. With their incredible bodies entangled and you nonstop fucking into the tight ass, their sensitive spots have to rub each other, nipples on nipples, clits on clits, and Somi is the first to collapse. “Oh my God, I-I’m about to wet my panties, oh no, Yuna!”

“Me too, my butt, I’m going to cum from my butt!” Yuna’s silly fucked body, and her silly face and her silly feminine voice have you on the verge to become silly as well. Both blonde’s indulge in their wet, heavy orgasms and you push your tip back into Yuna so many times that you flood her with a pent up load that momentarily shuts down your brain.

So this is how they feel all the time—brainless but blissful. At least stupid bitches fuck good.

“Oh, Somi, there, there is so much in my ass~”

“Really? Can I feel it?”

Somi puts two fingers against Yuna’s puckered hole, but before she can get a scoop of your load that is still hidden in the tightly clenching butt, Yuna stands up. “No, Somi, ew,” Yuna shouts, moans, something in between, again. “You have to eat it straight from the butt, like this.”

You are back in the hub room, all the rooms finally open. Before you make your way to the last room, you decide to take a quick look into each scene you’ve already participated in that only users that buy the premium pass (which is off 69%, only today on k-jizzers.cum) can still watch:

In the first room, Wonyoung and Yiren sit on the edge of the bed, fingering each other's pussies until they violently squirt all over the mattress. Both of them look sweaty and exhausted, but they continue to drink water and share saliva to go for another round. Stay hydrated, everyone.

“Let’s do this, Barbie, I know your tiny body can cum again!”

“O-okay, b-but only if you kiss me.”

In the second room, Swan is fully naked, her backside turned to you. She is tied to the metal bars with handcuffs on both of her wrists. Below her is Gahyeon, thrusting a dildo up into that tiny tight cunt, while her own hole is stuffed with a loud bullet vibrator. They are really committed to this game.

“I swear, Swan, if you cum again, I’ll kick your ass, literally!”

“S-sorry, Mommy, I try, try, try—I’m so close!”

In the third room, well, those blondes finally found a way to snowball your cum, not from mouth to mouth, but ass to mouth. Yuna sits on Somi’s face, head thrown back, unable to not moan as your white spunk oozes out of her. Bon Appetit.

“Oh God, don’t put your tongue in!”

“But he tastes so good, let me be greedy this one time.”

The final room is a classroom, unmistakably. It has an old blackboard, a long desk for the teacher, smaller desks and chairs for the pupils. No matter when or where you’ve been to school, this will surely evoke memories of forgotten homework, endless lessons and bratty students.

“Ew, is that the new guy?” you hear someone complain from across the room, disgust in her voice, fingernails rapidly typing on her phone.

“Oh yeah, but what did you expect? At least he gives some big dick energy,” a response follows promptly, though this time they both look up from their phones and stare at you. You quickly find coverage behind the teachers desk to hide your manhood. A miserable attempt that has one of the girls outraged.

“Ayo, what the fuck? Do you think you’re some kind of teacher now?”

“Maybe he is here to teach us a lesson, lol.”

Did the girl on the left, in her messed up blouse and way-too-short checkered skirt, the waistband of a light brown thong on display, just like her midriff and navel—did she just say ‘lol’ out loud? Well, at this point the viewer will neither cringe or notice, too good is this material, too hot their bodies.

“Maybe he is here to teach you a lesson for breaking the dress code,” the girl adds as she approaches the desk.

“Yeri, you—you’re worse than me! Everyone can see your bra, what the fuck,” the other girl shouts and goes in for a slap on Yeri’s butt. The impact has you peeking out as a small melee breaks out.

“At least I tried, Yeojin, unlike you. Where is your skirt, your blouse? I can almost see your tits.” Yeri reaches for Yeojin’s chest, which is covered by this tiny, one piece swimsuit, so tiny in fact, even Yeojin’s small body seems to spill out of it. When there is so much shortness, of course Yeojin’s shorts are no different. Her shorts are actually shorter than Yeri’s skirt, which is already quite short—

“You tried?” Yeojin shrieks and tugs at Yeri’s blouse, accidentally undressing her. Who could have known, the bra below is actually a bikini top. “It’s falling off of your body.”

“Ts,

“Hey, you fucker! Get out already, we got some beef to settle.”

Yeri kicks the desk and you hear pencils roll down from it. They surely have not forgotten about you and your assumed big dick energy, so it was no use to continue hiding. You crawl out and straighten your posture, clearly taller than the two young women who don’t waste time looking up and gawking at the height difference. Both sets of hands go straight to your abdomen, your crotch, your cock. Yeojin is the first to pump, rubbing her fishnet sleeves carelessly over your sensitive tip.

“Watch it,” you hiss and get fistfuls of their hair, which to your surprise does not faze them at all. “You two are running your mouth, spewing bullshit. This is no way how you should treat people older and taller than you.”

Yeri frees herself easily from your grasp and you gasp when her knuckles dig into your stomach. It wasn’t really a punch, but somehow, she has you stunned. A smirk appears on her feisty features. “Watch it, asshole. This is our classroom, you’re the one below us. If you want some respect, don’t flex with your height. Flex with something else. Proof your worth.”

“O-oh yeah? And how should I do this?”

“Fuck us,” Yeojin casually says and pulls back the skin on your cock to the point it hurts and all the surging blood forces you to peak stiffness. “You get points for every position, the more creative, the better. Show us that this thing is more ‘do-er’ than ‘show-er’.”

Their eyes are the epitome of ‘fuck-me’ eyes, hell, they imagined fucked you the moment you entered, and in your mind, you’ve fucked them in every conceivable way possible. With all this imaginary fuckery, it’s about due time for the real fucking to start, though it’s definitely bugging you that these small, bratty girls get to start it off and lead the way.

Guess your positions have to be rough.

“Fine,” you sigh and get ready to push Yeojin down to her knees, but there is no need. She takes the short fall and her lips aggressively wrap around your tip before you can overthink your decision.

“No need to agree, it wasn’t up to you anyway,” Yeri laughs and you feel her fingers roam your upper body, everything from butt, back, nape to stomach and chest. She lingers there for a long time, cupping your pecs while you imagine cupping her surprisingly big tits—then Yeri dives in and starts to suck one of your nipples, while Yeojin bops her head back and forth.

“You tiny bitches.” They make it hard to breathe, their sluttiness and sloppiness is excellent, their enthusiasm matches that of Wonyoung. “You greedy, evil little things. You’ll regret that.”

“We’ll see about that,” Yeojin moans when your cock pops from her luscious lips and you’re back to receiving harsh, painful pumps from her fishnet clad hands. “What’s stopping you, huh?”

Nothing, really, so you don’t keep them waiting any longer. You reach into the back of Yeri’s bikini bottoms while simultaneously finding a good grip on Yeojin’s ponytail. A bit of adjusting on both ends, suddenly there is nothing but sounds of horniness, of rampant, uncensored sex. Well, there is of course a lot more than that, but who could think of anything else—

—but Yeojin’s cock-sucking lips sucking cock. They are the only thick thing on this miniscule rookie pornstar. You jerk your hips forward and her nose meets your base. You keep it that way as her tight throat struggles with your size and saliva spills from her lips.

Yeojin’s gags seem to turn on Yeri, her wet pussy dripping on your fingers as you rub it, never too fast, to keep her on the edge to—yeah, teach her a lesson. Look at that needy face, that heaving bosom, she is so desperate for more stimulation, but could never admit to it. Yeri’s pride keeps her from begging for your fingers to twirl inside her cunt.

“Is that really how you want to do it?” That’s as close to a beg as you will get from Yeri, nonetheless, you’ll give her more rubs. All this struggle is unbeknownst to the viewer, who can only see Yeri’ ecstatic face and wide open mouth as you finally insert two digits in her cunt. “That’s better, fuck.”

“Ride my fingers, Yeri. Impress me, and I’ll fuck you on the desk.”

“You, you will either way,” she chirps back, voice about to break when you thrust knuckles deep and curl, all while making Yeojin your sex doll.

Those gags of hers have become too dangerous though, so you take a step back and intensely watch as Yeojin coughs up lots and lots of saliva, letting it run down her pretty little face, her throat that was just stuffed like some obscene christmas chicken. In disbelief you watch her wipe her tears away and grin on, as if she wasn't just fighting for her life. Nothing can get Yeojin down, her brattiness is unreal.

Yeri does not seem amused at the lack of attention you give her. She pulls your hand out of her pussy and waddles towards the desk. In a burst of creativity, you grab her and slam her on the desk, on her back. Yeri winces in pain, but you already have her entrance exposed and filled before she can complain. And complain, she shall never again.

“Fuck, so big, be ca-care-ful!”

“Now that’s—oh God, you’re tight—now that’s not what I expected from you,” you groan manically, as you pin Yeri down with both your eyes and hands. “Shut up and take it. I want to see your tits bounce.”

Out of nowhere, Yeojin’s thin hand creeps under the thin string of Yeri’s bikini top and pulls it off. Finally, you can see those modest breasts swing freely while you do what you’re best at: plunging your fat cock into a wet cunt. Yeri moans, in a deep craze, deep pleasure, her hips grind in circles so you have to pin her down harder, hands in the soft flesh above those hips—just fuck faster and lose your mind.

“Yeri, your pussy looks so full,” Yeojin giggles and brushes stray hair out of her friend’s ecstatic face. “Don’t tell me you’re already about to cum?”

“No-no, never—”

“Oh great, cuz I won’t let you,” you promptly say and pull out of that stretched hole, gaped and absolutely desperate for an orgasm that was right around the corner. A few more pumps and Yeri would have been gone, her first on cam climax was so close.

But now it’s Yeojin’s turn. After all you want those points—or is it their points? You don’t care, you just hook your arms underneath her thighs and pick her up. She’s as light as she looks and her pink cavern is as snug as you anticipate. Yeojin holds onto your neck for stability, while you split her open further and further and when she leans into you, you feel your cock bulge her.

“Fuck, fuck, that’s the spot.” Use Yeojin like a fleshlight, an upgrade to her sex doll mouth, and she surrenders to the pleasure. Wasn’t this supposed to be Team Bratty or something? This is more—

“Team Cockhungry, absolute sluts,” you shout at her but Yeojin is just mindless and her lips quiver anxiously whenever you’re not guiding her small body up and down your cock. “Yeri, get on the wall. Present your ass to me, if you want this cock again.”

Yeri nods, only focused on you. She needs a second to find orientation again, while you make Yeojin lose all orientation as you spin her around and fuck her full nelson. An insane idea by the producers, stand and carry sex for the finale, but with a girl this small, it’s actually possible. You are still the unrestrained engine that pistons and pistons until Yeojin is ready to burst.

“Not yet, not yet,” you coo as you ruin yet another orgasm. A wet pop when you remove yourself from what could be a perfect hole for cockwarming, breeding and many other lewd adventures. The industry will empty their pockets to get a video with this pocket pussy girl. But for now, she is all yours and quite dismayed.

“You, you dick, better make it up later,” Yeojin says, voice deeply judgemental. It has to be ignored, because first, you have to make it up for a certain someone who wasn’t satisfied with your fingers or a short missionary fuck. Yeri needs you again, deep and hard, while her fragile legs try to keep her upright.

You watch the side of her face, the lip bite, the palms flaking off the wallpaper, the thighs trapping you and your cock is already on her labia. Yeri rubs her love juice all over your rod and you follow her plea and take the lead with a thrust that can be heard around the world.

“Fuck, it’s deep, your cock is deep in my pussy.” The disbelief in her voice sounds genuine, just like the attempt to crawl up the wall to drop back down on your cock. Yeri wants you to hit her cervix, finally cumming all over you but you need to savor this position more.

“Deeper than anything else.” A hand in her hair, you press everything of her against the wall. “I know you like it deep, your best spots are there. You’re a slut for large cocks, you only want them while standing up.”

“No, I need them to pick me up! Lift me up and fuck me, break me open deeeeep!”

Yeri must have been so envious of Yeojin. You might have picked the wrong girl to lift on high and fill from below. You can still make it up though; Yeri’s tits are repurposed as handles to pull her back onto your chest, feet suddenly flying. You might be blinded by strands of her hair all over your face, but you can still feel the weight of Yeri down on your cock, while you’re still drilling into her. She is getting higher, not only physically, but mentally. She loves nothing more than to be watched while a huge shaft fucks her. The stimulation sends her into a sea of bliss, a deep ocean, like the puddle of girl cum beneath your feet.

“I’m going to cum on your cock,” Yeri screams and tries to choke out a load from your balls, yet all she is choking you with is her hair on your face. “I love it, y-you can finish with me—”

The last time the camera captured someone cum so hard was about thirty minutes ago, either Wonyoung or Yiren, but unlike Team Princess next door, Yeri does it involuntarily. You pound the squirt out of her sloppy cunt until your legs become a slippery lubed mess and you almost slip on the cheap classroom floor. Yeri shouts and whines, the inside of her pussy still rippling when you pull out of it.

When you place Yeri back against the wall and feel the somewhat cold studio air brush past your erection, you realize that Yeri was close to getting you off too early. You are throbbing, surfing on the edge, almost getting blue balled. The only thing that can save you is Yeojin and the only thing you see is her ass, as she props herself up on all fours in between the chairs of—

Who counts chairs and who fucking cares? Just slam your cock into her ass and hear her screech in shock at the sudden fullness of her back entrance. There will be no ruined orgasm for you this time, Yeojin’s ass is your guarantee and you doubt her brattiness will return. Not when she moans so submissively. A question remains as you bury yourself repeatedly in Yeojin’s rectum: how can she be shocked when it's all lubed up and relaxed and eager to take you back inside like the pussy of a veteran porn star?

Yeojin really was born for this job. Her petite frame will be perfect for various porn sites related to kinks: size difference, stand and carry, small tits. The videos of her getting bulged will become legendary amongst the horniest or Reddit and Tumblr communities. Guys will have their way with her, her head will be spinning after some huge guys have her unconventionally spitroasted in the air or one of those tall, muscular women takes her for a ride on a strap-on.

They won’t have to worry about anal from her, because Yeojin takes it legendarily, narrowing at just the right time to go beyond the audio-visual perfection that is her penetrated ass—in simpler words, it feels as good as it looks. She can rival Yuna or maybe form some butt slut dream team, that’s how fucking amazing fucking her ass is.

“Yeri get back here, I’m close,” you promptly announce whilst scoring again by forcing Yeojin into a prone position and marking her shoulders with tender bites. Yeri struggles to find footing, only able to push forward because of all the tables and chairs. When she finally reaches you, you give Yeojin your final pumps as her entire frame is struck by an orgasmic earthquake.

In this day and age, everything has to be fast, even porn has to fit the 15 second shorts, reels, tiktok culture, so you start to cum in Yeojin and push Yeri to the ground at the same time. Then you reach for Yeri’s butt while holding back as many spurts as you can, to get her in this sweet piledriver and then paint both the outside and inside off her petite yet bubbly ass. It’s perfect for a short clip, that little teaser that plays when you’re about to click on the next JAV thumbnail on that shady site.

The HD or 4K settings across all screens can never do the real sight of a blissfully filled Yeri justice, as she eagerly spreads her own cheeks and everyone gets the awesome view of cum that seeps out of a gaped ass. The upside down (pretty, little, risky) baddie cleans off that hard-working cockwith her formerly bratty mouth. Deep exhales through her nose send a nice, warm stream of air around your base, which finally loses stiffness, the tension, it comes crashing down in the well-known post-nut clarity.

In this clarity however, you find Yeri’s final defiance; her lips will not let go of your cock and her tongue on your sensitive slit makes you curl your toes and whine out the agony which shoots up to your head like electric shocks. To top it all off, you feel Yeojin grin behind you when she wraps her slender arms around your midriff. This wasn’t in the script!

“The shooting might be over,” the tiny girl whispers. “But we are not done with you.”

“There are still a lot of points to be collected.

“And you will collect all of them.”

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commander-rahrah · 8 months

Text

Firsts

Pairing: Astarion (non-ascended) x GN!Reader Word Count: ~1200 archiveofourown: here

masterlist: here

Summary: Post ending of BG3, established relationship. GN!Tav/Reader having a bit of self doubt and worrying that Astarion fell for the very first person he met once he realized he was free from Cazador and that they would understand if he someday decides that he wants to go explore or meet new people or fall in love more then once. Astarion’s reacts to this worry.

Note: I haven't posted any BG3 fics yet, but I just couldn't resist writing this little scene that's been bouncing around in my head this past week! I wrote it originally for my Tav named Olympia, a tiefling bard, but I changed it to second perspective for this post.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*

Astarion’s eyes were trained on your fidgety movements. You were picking at the blanket as you sat on the edge of the bed, your hand shifting anxiously back and forth as your brow was crumpled in thought.

Something was eating away at you. He just wasn’t sure what. You two had a seemingly normal day, not starting until well past sunset (your new adopted routine just for him). The both of you had done some research and shopping before returning to the tiny rooms you were calling home for the time being to relax for the remainder of the night.

But now that he thought about it, you had barely touched your meal tonight. And were much quieter than usual, not as optimistic or positive during the research that had once again been futile. Perhaps you were being plagued by nightmares again — images of the horrors the party had faced just a couple months ago were resurfacing.

A flash of anger coursed through him at himself for not noticing sooner. Taking a breath he didn’t really need, he strode over to you and joined you on the edge of the bed — the mattress sinking slightly with his added weight.

“Copper for your thoughts, my sweet?” He asked with a tilt of his head, before tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear.

“I— I was thinking…,” You were quiet, and stumbled as you opened your mouth. He’d very rarely seen you like this — you always had a way with your words. You could be more poetic and flowery than even him. “And— and I understand if you do end up feeling this way.”

Confusion spread across all of Astarion’s features, “What in the hells are you talking about?”

You finally looked up at him, your eyes big and crinkled with worry, “I was the first person you met when you realized you were free… from him.” The pair of you had silently agreed to never mention that name again. “The first person you’ve been with. If you… if you decide you want to go see the world, experience new things, new people… I would understand.”

His jaw clenched together, “What?”

“I feel selfish keeping you all to myself. When there’s so much of the world you’ve not seen, so many other people you could be with that I—“

His red eyes blinked at you, before his lips turned downward, “You’re being serious.”

“I—“

He cut you off abruptly, waving his hand dramatically and pressing it into his chest, “Do you think that’s what I want? Have I told you that’s what I want?”

You shook your head, lips creasing, “No, I just want you to know that it’s ok if—“

“What, if I want to leave?” He stood up from the bed, looming in front of you as he spoke, “If I want to go galivant around to meet mysterious strangers, have a tryst or some torrid affair? I know that I am capable of making my own decisions. I know that darling, and I chose you. I choose you. And you reciprocated that.”

“I did. I do, I choose you. But I’ve—“

He interrupted you again, “Let me ask you something. Do you love me?”

“Of course. With all my heart.”

His heart still swelled with your answer. It did every time you admitted it to him. To hear it put out into the universe. That a tiny corner of it was indeed intended for him and you.

He pursed his lips before asking, “Have you loved people before me?”

“I—yes.” You admitted, looking down to your fingers that had become a twisted knot on your lap now.

“And did it feel the same? The love you shared for those other people.” He asked quietly, stepping closer and leaning down to undo the knot of your fingers. Instead threading them through his own pale, cold ones. “Did your love for them feel the same way you love me?”

Your throat bobbed as you swallowed, squeezing his hand in confirmation. “No. Not even close.”

“Exactly. You explored and experienced… and it still led you here, to me now. To your version of a first, yes?”

You nodded, the bottoms of your beautiful eyes starting to form with water as you tried to keep your tears at bay.

“I don’t need anybody else, or anywhere else.” Astarion sank to his knees in front of you, keeping his hands intertwined with your own. He dipped his head so he was looking up at you, his red eyes soft and tender. “Look… yes, you may have been the first person I stumbled upon after that damn ship. The first person I met once I realized I was free from his grasp. But you are also the first person to treat me with kindness and compassion. Respect. You’ve fought for me, protected me, fed me, been patient with me. You were the first person whose touch doesn’t make me feel ill, the first person who’s brought me to a blissful euphoria. You’ve given me peace. Autonomy. Safety. And love. No one has ever done that for me, not in my whole existence.”

His half dead heart was thundering in his chest. He had already declared himself to you once before, yet his whole body was shaking with emotion right now.

“And how dare you think so little of yourself. You aren’t just some notch in my belt, not a stepping stone in my life. You are everything.” Astarion used his thumb and finger to push your chin up, forcing your eyes to stare up into his. “I love you. No on else. And there will be no one else.”

The tears that were welling in your eyes finally broke free, rolling down your freckled cheeks. “I love you too. Irrevocably so.” Your voice was a raspy whisper.

“Oh my lovely moon, I wish you could see yourself how I see you.” Astarion’s voice was a gentle whisper.

He pressed a soft kiss onto your lips, both of his hands moving to grab the sides of your face. His pale thumbs wiped away the tears. “I surely hope these are somewhat happy tears now?”

You nodded profusely in his hands, a breathy laugh escaping you. “Happy, relieved.”

“Good. Now, no more of this talk alright? There is only room for one person to be filled with self doubt in this relationship and that position is currently filled by me.”

You frowned, “Starry, don’t jest about things like that.”

“Old habit.” His smirk pulled up enough that his fangs poked out. “No more stewing with your anxious thoughts. You’re going to come and join me on the balcony. Come on,” He stood up and held out his pale hand for you before he gently tugged you to the small balcony attached to your rooms.

The pair of you looked up at the inky black sky, glittering with the sprinkling of stars you could still see in Baldur’s Gate. They were blinking and swirling around the glowing, full moon. A sigh of contentment left you both as you stood in comfortable silence and basked in the light.

“What would the stars be without their moon?” He whispered in your hair, wrapping his arms around your waist as he gathered you into him.

#bg3 astarion #astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion fanfic #astarion x reader #astarion/reader #astarion x tav

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wroteclassicaly · 8 months

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For The Record

(Steve Harrington x Female Reader)

Summary: You have a surprise for your best-friend Steve.

Word count: 1,647

Warnings: Language, NSFW, creampie, vaginal sex, slight choking, slight breeding kink if you squint, and fluff.

Pairings: Steve Harrington x Female Reader

A/N: Just a filthy little thing that I’ve been nurturing for a few days. No point to it, just showing Stevie some love! Haven’t written anything this lengthy in a while, but I hope y’all enjoy? ;P 💕❤️🥰♥️

Steve. Steve-fucking-Harrington. The heart of your group with a head of hair (that you’d washed, brushed, picked monster guts out of, and pulled, one too many times), a comforting smile that reminded you of Summer’s fading sunsets that give way to fall colors. All copper, rust, orange, mossy caramels swirling together, deep browns that look like cinnamon (smells like the gum he chews, or the breath spray he carries in his back pocket), sometimes even red in how his cheeks tinge on cold days, the way he makes your body warm. To his protective - fighter mode, like a crafted out of the finest marble guardian-angelic-god.

You’d worship at his temple. All day. Every single day.

His mouth has been in as many places as his hands. He knows every scar, just as much as he’s aware of spots, in which kissing you will cause goosebumps to electrify, sparking themselves known across your skin, or where his fingers will cause that high pitched whine to come from between your lips. You can’t really fathom that it’s been happening, especially for how long. There’s been no talk of labels, what anything means, it’s just been two friends crossing a line and fucking one another on it. You don’t know what you would’ve done, had it not been for Steve-the-hair-Harrington, King Steve, your extra heartbeat, your best-friend, your everything.

And that’s what led you to your current predicament, your planned leap of faith. Wrapped in a maroon colored mini gift bag, you had placed the packet. Steve arrived not long after, movies and pizza balanced in his massive hands, keys dangling from the middle finger of his left hand, a cheesy grin pressing into that beautiful mouth. “Hey, honey,” he had said. “Really missed you today, you know that?”

You’d taken in his appearance of dark Levi’s and a black belt, his signature Nike’s, and a low dipped white v-neck that he’d thrown a plain blue button over, leaving it open, his gold chain visible, nestled in that patch of chest hair. Salivating more at him than the food, it took you a second to help him inside.

You ate in avid chatter, watched one of the lamest, but most comforting horror films Steve could find on the shelves (that no one rented but he knew you’d appreciate), whilst being tucked beneath his bicep, warmed at his side. That’s when you’d retrieved the gift off your coffee table, his palm rubbing circles across your spine, kneading tension until you returned to your position. You handed him the bag and his bushy brows had pinched together, an adorable confusion clear. “For me? What did I do?”

“Just open it, Harrington. Before my nerves make me take it back.”

He cradled the parcel protectively, a pout forming as his watch strapped wrist dips inside. “No way, no how. Nope, not now.”

“Steve…” you laughed lightly, suddenly swallowing as he pulled the packet out, trying to make sense of the name.

“Contraceptive? I don’t… Isn’t this birth control?” He shook the packet before planting it in his massive palm.

You could feel your heartbeat in your throat, choking you like a vice, preventing you from answering in a full sentence.

“Yeah.”

“So, it’s yours? Why did you wrap it up and give it to me?”

“There’s a few missing already, Steve. I just wanted to get used to them before… Before I told you.”

“Told me, what?” He still looked puzzled, seeking out where you’d opened the package and taken a few tablets.

“That I just wanna use these from now on. Nothing else. If you, if that’s okay with you...?” You had felt the sharp claws of the butterflies, threatening to demolish your remaining courage. But this was Steve, you needed to remember that.

It took him a few moments, but then his pupils expanded within the enriching mossy flecks of his irises, at a rapid pace. His tongue licked at the five o’clock shadow above his upper lip. His voice, you’ll never forget how it sounded. Honey-hot and hoarse, raspy with bitten want, raw fucking desire. You’d clenched your thighs together, tongue eager to lick him… every-fucking-where — the burn of it felt on the muscle’s tip.

“Isn’t that something you do with a boyfriend, though? Not casual sex with a good friend, one of your best-friends?”

And you nod, vision swimming with shapes. Had you messed up? Fuck it. “It is.” Is what you’d responded with, taking the packet from him and tossing it with the bag back onto the table. The movie was rolling credits in the background and you were watching Steve’s dotted jugular as he swallowed, showcasing those tendons, all the way up to that stubble bitten jawline, dotted with freckles and moles.

“And who is your boyfriend, honey?” He had to hear you say it. If it’s what he thought it was, or you’d simply break his heart and move on to this guy. Could he really believe in a good thing again?

You leapt off that faithful precipice, years and feelings following, eyes locking, gaze unrelenting. “I was hoping it would be you.”

He was obviously choked up, orbs alight with mirth and excitement, among other things. “Funny that you mention that, because I’ve been hoping for the exact same thing.”And he’d fallen into your arms, seizing you with a kiss, noses nudging, tongues eager and messy. Clothes couldn’t come off fast enough.

The king sized condom lays unopened on your plush blush rug. Having fallen out of Steve’s wallet, that had also tumbled from his jean pocket in haste. Everything was out of control in the best possible way. You could’ve sworn you died a few minutes prior and came back as immortal — able to see through particles that floated on the air, hear cars, horns, music from houses all across town, smell the leaves that clung to the trees, damp with rain water and Autumn air. Your eyes roll back, perspiration damp behind the backs of your knees, where he’s got his current pinching grip, the fat of your thighs pressed into your tits, squishing them.

You realize in the moment, that you truly loathe condoms. Because this? Feeling that wet pre-cum smear down his shaft and around your opening as he pushed himself into you without a barrier for the first time, it was an indescribable experience. Each ridge, every vein, so hot, soft, and fucking, soaking wet. You aren’t sure where he ends and you begin. It hurts like hell, aches in the deepest parts of you, a place you know that he could easily put a child if you slipped up on your only remaining protection.

That thought makes you tighten around him, cream spilling out and further slicking back the curls gathered at his base. He drops your thighs, sweat-slick pelvis smashing into yours, stimulating your swollen clit. His chest hair scrapes against your pebbled nipples, making you arch your back and your toes curl, legs locking around his lower waist. He whines, palm coming up to grasp at your breast, calloused thumb strumming around your areola. “God, honey, your fucking nipples were made for my mouth to suck on.”

And he’s descending, his lips closing over one, tongue flicking and stimulating. You cry out, hand fisting into his honey streaked, chestnut locks. His shoulders work and bend, the dips and freckles and moles visible, glittering with the salt of sweat, his gold chain swaying out from his hairy chest and back again when he stops, nose bumping yours, hot breath on your mouth. “This pussy was made for my cock.”

And holy hell, his vocalizing focus doesn’t cease. “Who took your virginity, honey?” You both know it wasn’t him. But you are well aware what he’s getting at, and as he gives a harsh snap, those full and fat balls smacking your slick ass, you lose further coherency. “That’s right,” he’s speaking again. “They don’t matter, but I do.”

You weren’t aware that you could make the noises that you are. Only able to speak once Steve’s tugging himself and pulling out, stringing from your cunt to his shaft, a squelch echoing. You both groan, emptiness already jumpstarted. You plead for him. “Please, Stevie, need you! Put it back in —“

“Say it, say you’re just a hole for me to fill. That you’re only mine, baby.”

“I… Fuck! Stevie, all my holes are only yours, I’m only yours!��

He sinks his teeth into his bottom lip, before his jaw drops open and he whimpers. His hand leaves your breast and slides across your sternum, your collarbone, and settles at your neck. You nod to encourage, and those defined digits wrap around your throat.

“Tell me you love these big hands, sweetheart. Because they’re for you. They belong to you!”

“Want them all over me, Steve. All the time. Can’t get enough of you.”

He’s holding firm to his cock, stroking and teasing. You lick your lips as you stare at it, drooling. Reaching down, you tap his wrist (his arm, all muscles and tendons, thick and available to trace with your tongue), as he presses the thick red head into your clit, smearing the combination of you two all around. You mewl in appreciation, legs stretching so far apart that your muscles protest. He’s speaking next, panting out, “Like that? Hey, look at me. He grabs your chin, thumb tugging down your bottom lip. “Like. That?”

Your lip releases with a plop.

“Yes, yes! Don’t stop, Steve, never wanna not feel you again, baby boy!”

“That’s a good girl, that’s my girl.” He circles your sore opening and slips back inside with a loud, wet ease. You bite back the burning pain, welcoming the damp tears of pleasure along your lashes.

Your manicured nails cling to his back, his chest gliding along yours, heartbeat to hammering heartbeat. It’s frantic whispers and begging cries. And when he’s close to coming, you find his cheek with one hand, holding. “For the record, you’ve never been casual to me, Steve Harrington.”

// Eat me paragraph //

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kooktrash · 7 months

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season of the witch | jeon jungkook

summary: he’s not a bad boy, he just gets himself in bad situations at times that lead him to bizarre happenings. for instance, he had no intentions of visiting an occult shop in the middle of the night in search for a phone… but here he is in the middle of October feeling himself fall for the self-titled witch who owned it. suddenly he’s gone from your casual heart breaker, to your sweet boy next door.

˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.˚ genre/au: heartbreaker!jk x witch!y/n [she/her], whimsigoth, modern witch, halloween .⊹✶ ✶ ✶☾✴

˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆. 16.9k words˚.⊹✶✴

warnings: smut. fluff. very slight angst if you squint. honestly pretty cute. oc gives off whimsigoth vibes but honestly a big softie. mentions of spells and hexes. jk is a skeptic. oc has a black cat named. jk becomes a bit spiritual. honestly just a cute modern witch fic inspired by your 90s witch. no protection bc they’re idiots and didn’t plan. oc is scared to get in relationships. soft sex. oral sex [f receiving] jk is a service dom highkey. actual magic moments but they’re brushed over

HALLOWEEN SPECIAL

mentions of the occult [loosely referenced] it’s just a little Halloween thing, fiction and not at all educational or informative

“Admit that we’re lost.”

The street was as dark as night and empty. It felt like they were the only two signs of life around and yet he refused to admit he’s lost. There’s lit jack-o-lanterns on people’s yards so he knows he’s still close to civilization and that’s enough to keep him going—and he swears he’s not being dramatic.

“We’re not lost,” he said, not bothering to look back at his friend who surely rolled his eyes with annoyance, following after him nonetheless.

“Jungkook, it’s late, I’m tired, just admit we’ve been walking in circles,” his friend said, words falling on deaf ears. Jungkook just smiled, pointing ahead at the first true source of light they’ve seen for a while, “Let’s go there.”

It was almost midnight and most businesses around here were already closed and yet there was a small shop with a red lighting store front and plants hanging from the ceiling. There was a sign on the door that said, ‘OPEN’, with its business hours printed beneath and the shop’s name painted on the window. He didn’t hesitate to swing the door open, hearing the bell above the door ring as they entered the strange shop.

There was so much to look at from books to multi colored rocks separated into groups with labels on them; Tiger’s Eye, Black Onyx, Topaz, Amethyst, the list went on. Hanging above were various green plants and small jars lining the shelves on the walls of rose petals, lavender, mandrake, and plants he’s never heard of before.

“What is this place?” Hoseok asked with a small scoff in disbelief as he held up a charcoal pentagram and a bundle of sage. There were skeleton paper weights and bottles of various oils that gave the shop an herbal smell he couldn’t tell if he liked or not.

Jungkook didn’t have much to say, only shrugged his shoulders in response as he let his attention be drawn toward a hanging suncatcher that caught the red light used to warm the plants in the cold. His hand reached out to touch, watching it dangle and effortlessly swing away from him. There was no one behind the wooden counter filled with handmade jewelry made of copper and nickel twisted in various designs of trees, moons, suns and vines circling around crystals. There was an open book at the counter and he curiously walked toward it, wondering if it was a product list or maybe even the name of the person working but he could barely make out the words or even the dark sketches.

Just as he came to admit there was nobody here, a soft mewl caught his attention.

Yellow eyes stared into his brown ones as he looked up at the wall of ceramic figures behind the counter, and a black cat sat perfectly still next to a small sc of a dragon. He couldn’t look away from it, even when a soft sound of footsteps were heard from behind a tall, woven tapestry with embroidered stars that concealed a wooden spiral staircase.

“Coal, where’d you run off to?” Your voice was light and whimsical yet when you appeared behind the counter, you were dressed in black, a lot of it. A long black skirt with a thin black top that had green vines laced throughout it. Over it you had on a black shawl slipped down your shoulders.

Jungkook and Hoseok shared a strange look as they stood unnoticed while you picked up your cat to scold him for leaving while you talked. Jungkook tried to grab your attention by clearing his throat and once your eyes were on his, he smiled, “Um… hi, we saw that your shop was open and we were won—“

“Coal, I told you to flip the sign,” you whispered to the black cat as you let him jump out of your arms with an annoyed meow when you whispered, “Bad kitty.”

“Uh…” Jungkook couldn’t hide his look of confusion at the way you acted, “We’re uh, we’re lost and we were wondering if you had a phone we could use to call a tow truck.”

“Oh? Have you been in an accident?” You asked curiously, tucking some hair behind your ear creating a small jingle with all the jewelry you wore.

“Funny story actually,” Hoseok said, making you look him over with a raised brow—unable to ignore the bloody hockey jersey he wore, “We were at a party and uh, we got robbed. It was a whole shit show, honestly, we’ve been walking for over an hour and our car broke down so we’re going through it and we really just need a phone.”

“Coal, can you get my phone?” You turned to the cat that had made itself comfortable laying in a basket of dried moss. The cat didn’t make a move to leave, instead he turned his head away making you roll your eyes and add, “Please?”

Jungkook watched the cat run off behind the curtain with interest before looking at you, your eyes already on his, “So what kind of place is this?”

“It’s your local apothecary! Herbs, oils, incense—your occasional occult stuff, we specialize in the craft,” you said with a bubbly voice, “All very interesting stuff.”

“I’ll say,” Hoseok lifted a finger to tap on the mason jar filled with green liquid.

“What are you supposed to be?” You asked rather suddenly, turning your attention to Jungkook.

“Me?” Jungkook asked, looking down at himself, “I’m Dumbledore.”

He thought the long white beard, oversized robe and elder wand made that abundantly clear. You looked him up and down, “Hm.”

Hoseok couldn’t help but release a chuckle at the way you very clearly judged his friend’s choice of costume, “Yeah, I told him he would pull no bitches dressed like th—“

“Hobi,” Jungkook cut him off, motioning toward you with his head at the way your eye seemed to twitch with what he said. He tried to think of something to say but you were no longer interested when your cat came with the top of a phone case in his mouth. He set it down on the counter, letting his tail curl around your arm before leaving with a purr.

When you unlocked your phone, Jungkook thanked you and quickly tried to call a tow truck only to be told there were none open now. Hoseok couldn’t hide the fact that he was tired and found himself lying comfortably in a dark green daybed surrounded by books, leaving his friend to deal with all the hard parts. You didn’t say or rush anything when he took your phone and instead chose to watch him pace back and forth dialing every number he knew.

“This place is cozy,” Hoseok admitted, “I could nap here.”

“Coal, does it all the time,” you said with a soft smile, both tuning out Jungkook who was getting more annoyed by the second.

“Hyung, please pick us up,” Jungkook said in the background, tired of the itchy long beard so he snatched it off.

“I might get a promotion this week, what’s something I can use to wish me luck?” Hoseok asked, looking around the shop.

“I can help you make a spell jar, grab a basket,” you said cheerily as the hockey player got up to do as told. Jungkook tapped on the glass counter, starting a staring contest with the black cat while you and Hoseok began to collect herbs.

“I’ll send you my location,” Jungkook told the person on the phone, “15 minutes? We can wait here.”

“What does cinnamon do?” Hoseok asked, drawing Jungkook’s attention toward him.

“Alright, thanks Joon.” Jungkook hung up the phone, “Namjoon is coming for us. What are you guys doing?”

“Have you ever done a palm reading?” You asked Hoseok, ignoring Jungkook.

“No, but I’m down to try.”

“Sorry for keeping you up,” Jungkook said with a tired sigh as he looked at you hoping for a bit of acknowledgment on your part but you were currently helping Hoseok seal a mason jar with green candle wax.

Look…

Just listen…

Jungkook doesn’t think he has a type. He’s been with every type of girl possible since he started college but he’s never spoken to anyone like you. It’s not even just the way you’re dressed or the way you speak to your car but it’s also the store you worked at—or owned[?]. You’ve got his best friend making a good luck spell in the middle of the night and yet all Jungkook could think about is how cute you were.

Your skirt was fitted and it hugged your waist perfectly, exposing your torso and the way your shawl hung around your elbows instead of your shoulders was hot. You had these eyes that drew him in too, maybe it was your smudged dark makeup that made them stand out or the way you didn’t shy from staring into his eyes but he found it hard to look away.

“It’s a full moon tonight,” you said to him, “I was going to stay up anyway. I’ve already set up water to charge overnight.”

His brows furrowed, “Well, thanks anyway. What’s your name?”

“Y/n.”

“I’m Hoseok but you can call me Hobi,” Hoseok said with a confident smile, “This great wizard is Jungkook.”

“Dumbledore,” you said questioningly, “You took off your beard.”

“It was itchy,” Jungkook cleared his throat awkwardly.

You looked behind him, “Coal doesn’t seem to think so.”

Jungkook followed your stare, finding the black cat suddenly wearing the long white beard. Hoseok laughed, “Not you putting the beard on the cat, Kook.”

“I didn’t,” Jungkook scratched the back of his head, “Did I?”

You brushed past him, a soft scent of lavender incense overwhelmed him in a pleasant way and he couldn’t help but watch you in awe. There was just something about you… or maybe he’s had a long night and is imagining it.

“Joon is here.”

He can’t explain what it is but he can’t stop looking at you. Every move you made had his attention no matter how small and for a moment he forgot who else was around.

“Jungkook,” Hoseok snapped his fingers in front of his face, pointing out the window at the car parked outside, “Namjoon is here.”

“Oh, right,” Jungkook shook his head to snap out of the small trance he had been in, “Um, thank you Y/n, for letting us in.”

“No worries, Dumbledore, it made for an interesting night,” you held your cat in your arms now, forcing it to wave its paw goodbye, “And I do hope you tell me if the spell worked, Hobi.”

The two wanderers left the small shop of wonders and got in their friend’s car without further question, ending their night on a strange note that left one of them with curiosity.

The shop was home to you. It is where you felt most comfortable and it was passed down to you from a young age. It was a responsibility to help everyone who walked in, even if they asked for questionable things, you had to be there for them.

That’s why when a woman came in with tears down her face and a bundle of cash, you couldn’t just turn her away. Today your friend was working with you and he excelled in this sort of magic better than you did so you let him take the reel. He never seemed to mind intervening in the love lives of others and the shop was a safe space for men who’ve just been robbed and women who’ve been wronged.

“He’s a cheater,” she cried, “He lied to me a-and he thinks I’m just dumb. It’s not fair.”

“It’s not,” your friend said with a small smile, “Men like that can’t just walk around without any repercussions.”

“Jimin,” you warned him softly, watching the way he seemed to get the woman hyped on the thought of getting back at her husband. This is where he specialized, any sort of love magic no matter how bad, he loved it. You weren’t like him, you believed too much in karma to involve yourself in bad situations but you were never able to talk him out of it and it made the customer happy.

“Hush, Y/n, a simple hex never hurt anyone,” Jimin said, practically kicking his feet with glee, “Would that make you feel better, honey?”

The woman nodded her head, completely hypnotized by your best friend he disappeared behind another curtain toward the greenhouse. You waited behind idly, unsure what to do or say when a delivery driver pulled up in front of the building. Coal had flipped the sign to ‘CLOSED’ while Jimin performed his magic and the driver got out of his car holding a bouquet of flowers and a small box.

“Trust me, after this he won’t ever be able to please another woman again,” Jimin told her as he cut into a rotten eggplant.

You left the two quietly, making your way to the front door and ignoring the instructions Jimin gave the woman as she began to repeat the small chant he said.

You opened the shop door, stepping out, “Are you looking for someone?”

“Um… is this Scarlet&Sage? I’m looking for a Y/n.”

“That’s me,” you told him with furrowed brows, eyes widening as he practically shoved the bouquet of flowers into your hands and the gift box, asking you to sign before leaving. It took you a moment to process what happened before you headed back inside, just in time to watch Jimin finish the hex by helping the woman sew up the cut eggplant with candle wax and twine.

“You’ll want to leave this somewhere he can’t find it,” Jimin told her but you left before you could hear anything else.

You carried your things to the back room which was really just an extended shed of herbs and dried plants, Coal following close behind with curiosity as you opened up the small envelope inside.

‘Thank you for helping two strangers out so late in the night :) hopefully we’ll cross paths again

— Jeon Jungkook, Dumbledore’

The letter made you smile, a small blush forming on your cheeks when you pulled the lid off the box and gasped. Inside were two things, the first being a black hair clip with a pretty design on it and the second was a cat toy—Halloween themed. There was a sticky note on the plush skeleton fish that said, ‘For Cole’ on it that had you both sighing in disbelief.

Coal scratched at the note until it fell away from his new toy and ran away with it, surely to sulk at the misspelling of his name and pretend like he didn’t like the gift.

“Who’s the admirer?”

A light yell left your lips, nearly dropping the box as Jimin appeared at the doorway, “What admirer?”

“This one,” Jimin took the bouquet, examining it quickly with pursed lips, “Do tell me, Y/n, I am dying for the smallest sign of human interaction you might receive. I feel like you’ve become a recluse.”

“I have not,” you argued, letting him cut the tips of the stems, summoning over a vase with a wave of his hand that had it sliding across the wooden countertop to where he was, “I just… I do not have the time.”

“For?” Jimin asked setting the flowers up beautifully for you, “Oh whatever, just tell me who the flowers are from.”

“Nobody important,” you said almost shyly as your friend led the way back into the shop, ducking his head under twinkly lights and waving a finger to flip the sign back to ‘OPEN’, “The other night two men came in. They needed a phone and I let them use mine, that’s all.”

“Were they attractive?” Jimin asked with a raised brow, his instincts tingling at the hint of romance. Fleetwood Mac’s Dreams played in the background filling in the silence you left behind as you stopped to think about it.

The other night you met a dead hockey player and Dumbledore. Jungkook had been covered completely by old rags until the end when he took off the beard and even then the poor night lighting didn’t do well to make him attractive.

Still, part of you knew the two men would be considered popular just based on their looks.

“I think so,” you told him honestly, “It was hard to know, they were dressed up for a costume party.”

“You should have asked for their number,” Jimin said humorously, “Maybe then this god awful dryspell of yours would end.”

You rolled your eyes at his play on words before welcoming in a group of girls headed toward the crystals, “It’s not a dryspell and we both know it.”

“Oh, right,” Jimin rolled his eyes, “The curse. You give it too much power, sure there have been accidents in the past but those were all mere coincidence!”

“I’m sorry, but my first boyfriend losing a finger just a week after he fingered me for the first time doesn’t sound coincidental,” you half whispered and half shouted.

“It was a bowling accident!” Jimin laughed loudly.

“And what about the guy next door who used to help me water my plants before his house caught on fire?” You asked with a tilt of your hand that had him shrugging.

“Maybe he should’ve worried about the dry air in his own home before coming to yours,” Jimin joked.

“I’m serious, Jimin. Anyone who shows even the slightest interest in me gets hurt, and I mean literally not figuratively,” you said.

It was not a secret and your best friend knew it. Everyone who practiced the craft around here knew of the curse bestowed upon your family.

A curse on any man that dared love any woman in your family—you’ve seen it happen before and you’re not interested in hurting someone because of a centuries old curse you were born with.

Jimin had nothing to say now as he looked at the flowers with such curiosity he could practically picture the man who sent them.

Jeon Jungkook was special and everyone around him knew it. From his looks to his personality, there was not a single person unable to be charmed by him. It was a gift, really, just one smile or one look and he could practically get whatever he wants.

Of course, that’s not always a good thing, and that’s why he takes full blame for what happened last weekend. If he had known the girl who flirted with him had a boyfriend… he would have never hooked up with her in the bathroom. If they never hooked up then his things wouldn’t have been stolen and his tire wouldn’t have been slashed.

Sometimes he forgets that his actions have consequences and that night he learned how much of an asshole he really is to kiss a taken woman. The only good thing that came from it was the strange visit to an even stranger shop with an owner who blew his mind away.

He was beginning to think there’s something wrong with him. Why can’t he stop thinking about you? At first he thought it was out of guilt for bothering you that late so he had flowers delivered as a thank you but you still haven’t left his head. He’s nearly forgotten what you look like and he doesn’t like that.

“I can’t believe I got the promotion,” Hoseok said with a smirk as he plopped down on the chair next to Jungkook’s.

“You worked hard for it,” Jungkook reminded him.

“What if that little jar really did help?” Hoseok asked curiously, making Jungkook laugh suddenly and his brows furrowed, “I’m serious, Kook. I really thought they were gonna give it to the other guy.”

“Hobi, you worked your ass off for it,” Jungkook told him honestly, “Some stupid jar of cloves and cinnamon didn’t do it.”

That made his friend roll his eyes, “Whatever, I’m still stopping by the shop to offer my thanks—“

“You’re going back?” Jungkook asked, a look of interest in his eyes, an idea running rampant in his head at the thought.

There was a sudden urge to see you again running through his veins.

The shop felt surprisingly cozier during the day and it smelled of pomegranate and basil. A few customers shopped around, unable to help themselves from watching the two attractive men look every bit out of place as they felt while a man helped behind the counter.

Jimin popped his head over a jar of worms, eyes widening as he practically ran up the spiral steps in search of you. Your eyes were closed as you imagined a white light running over your body eliminating any piece of bad energy in sight. A set of silver headphones played lulling sounds of nature and the flicker of white candles helped lighten the dark room as you attempted to do your midday meditation. You sat with your legs crossed neatly and your floral skirt touched the ground even when your body floated in the air in concentration.

“Y/n!”

You’ve become one with your surroundings, you felt the energy coursing through you with each deep inhale and exhale you let out and your body became weightless, unable to think of anything but absolute clarity.

“Y/n!”

The sudden yank on your headphones caused you to snap out of the trance, falling to the ground with a hard thud that had you hissing in pain, “Ow!”

“He’s here!” Jimin said, snapping the candles off while helping you untangle your headphones.

“Who?” You asked, wrapping your loose cardigan tighter around your torso.

“The one who delivered the flowers,” Jimin said urgently as he took your hand in his and practically rushed you downstairs. You didn’t even get a chance to put your shoes back on and you had to hold the end of your matcha green skirt up to keep from dragging across the floorboards.

“How do you kno—“

“Instincts,” Jimin said, wiggling his nose, “I can just tell.”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes at him as you joined him downstairs, not fully believing he knew who he was talking about until you saw it with your own eyes. Hoseok was much more familiar to you than the other considering his costume still looked like him but Jungkook was the one who caught your attention. He ditched the gray robes for black jeans and a white shirt under a black and white leather jacket. His hair was sleek and he had facial piercings you didn’t remember seeing last time but he looked good…

“Y/n! I got the promotion!” Hoseok said cheerfully, taking your focus for himself. You smiled sweetly, “Really? That’s wonderful.”

Jungkook found himself speechless when he saw you appearing from behind the celestial tapestry. He can’t explain it but you looked utterly beautiful. The crystal suncatcher he had seen the other night proved its purpose today by reflecting a soft rainbow on your complexion and he found it hypnotizing.

“Did you receive my flowers?” He found himself asking, damn near stuttering. Today you wore a matcha green floral skirt and a cream colored cardigan matched with some crystals around your neck. It didn’t sneak past him the fact that you were barefoot but it seemed to fit you either way.

“I did, they smelled wonderful,” you said joyously, “But…”

His lips parted with worry, ready to ask what happened when a deep meow took his attention. Your black cat curled around your skirt practically begging to be picked up and you did just that, cuddling the feline against your chest, “Coal is a bit bothered by the gift.”

Jungkook was left confused, watching the cat who seemed to be glaring at him, “Cole is?”

“Yeah, you see, you spelled his name wrong,” you said with a sigh, “His name is coal like the carbonized rock, not a man’s name.”

“Oh?” Jungkook tilted his head, “Oh. Coal, black as coal?”

“It’s because he’s a black cat,” Hoseok said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world to name your cat after a fire starter.

“Well, maybe he could appreciate the effort?” Jungkook asked, trying not to think of how ridiculous he sounded practically begging the feeling for forgiveness.

“He’s a bit of a grudge holder but maybe he’ll come around,” you said with a distressed sigh, staring off into the distance seeming like your mind was miles away. Hoseok had lost interest in the conversation as he began to skim through a book about runes while your coworker slash best friend pretended not to eavesdrop behind the counter. Jungkook watched you curiously as you focused on a group of teenage girls nosing through the incense sticks.

“Whatever you said to Hobi seemed to work the other day, he aced the interview,” Jungkook said, feeling the need to try and talk to you still. There’s just something about you.

Your entire essence felt whimsical and he wishes he could pinpoint what has his heart beating so fast but he can’t.

“It was the spell,” you told him with a smile, letting it fade when he scoffed in disbelief.

“No, seriously.”

“I am being serious,” your eyes narrowed, “We put a lot of effort into it.”

Jungkook would love to argue about magic and spells not being real but it was very clear this was not the place to do it—especially not when he can hear the guy behind the counter offer a potion to someone. He seemed like a con artist and yet you worked with him, did that make you one too? When he looked at you, he could easily assume you were dressed up for Halloween, it was October and some people go all out for the month. That could be you…

Or you could be playing a part for the store, doing whatever you could to get the sales going even if it meant packaging herbs in mason jars and calling it a spell.

The look you were giving him made it obvious that you were beginning to question his intentions too and he felt the need to backtrack even if his instincts were telling him not to, “Well uh, whatever you um… did worked.”

You flashed him a pretty smile, already losing interest in him as you turned around to see who was in the store. He couldn’t help but try and follow after you in hopes of keeping your attention on him but when he took a step, he nearly tripped and had to grab you for support. The two of you looked down, a small laugh bubbling in your throat, “Coal! You do not play tricks on people just because you’re mad.”

The cat meowed in response as you suddenly dropped to your knees before him, his heart racing at the action until you began to untie his shoelaces which had been knotted together so he would trip when he took a step. Jungkook laughed nervously, “I don’t remember doing that.”

“It was Coal,” you said like it was the most obvious thing in the world, “If anyone knows how to hold a grudge it’s that cat. Coal, say sorry.”

As if the cat understood what you said, he meowed as he ran off, making sure to hit Jungkook’s leg with his tail. He shook his head in disbelief at the way Coal responded so human-like, wondering if his dog acted this way too at times but he didn’t. Bam was always sweet and energetic, not a grudge holder or trickster like the feline. With a sigh he tried moving on, looking around for you only for you to be going behind a curtain toward a greenhouse. Jungkook didn’t hesitate to follow you, not caring about the sign that said no customers and searching for you.

“So, Y/n, I was wondering if you were busy tomorrow,” Jungkook said suddenly, “I was thinking we can get dinner as a thank you for the other night.”

“Oh,” you came to a stop, staring at a basket of molasses and shook your head, “No, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Jungkook was left speechless, unsure what to say as you once again seemed to disappear before his very own eyes, leaving him to look around confused and alone. He had no choice but to head back to the main store where he found you tying a string around Hoseok’s wrist. How did you move so quickly?

You mumbled something to his friend that he couldn’t quite hear and he’ll admit it made him a bit jealous. It’s not that he had strong feelings for you but here he is fighting plowing after that y only for you to wander off away from him. Was something wrong with him? Were you more interested in Hoseok? Jungkook had never struggled to keep a girl’s attention and yet it feels like your mind is everywhere else but him. Sure, you might be different from his usual type but did that mean he was different from yours? What kind of guy is your type anyway?

Someone with glasses who likes astrology?

“Jungkook,” you called for him rather softly and yet he went to you as if on command. You held up a string necklace with some sort of rock or marble on it and he didn’t hesitate to lean down so you could put it on him. It was a blue marble with a white circle and a black dot inside the circle.

“What is this?” He asked, swallowing dryly when your hands brushed against his neck.

“It has many names depending on where you’re from but, it’s an evil eye. It helps protect you from misfortune and anyone who wishes ill intent toward you,” you told him, making sure the bead sat perfectly between his collarbone, “I figured after the night you got your things stolen, it was better to stay protected.”

“Is there anything that would protect me against him, Y/n?” Hoseok joked, joining the two of you now, “If anyone brings me bad luck it’s Jungkook considering he’s the reason everyone’s always out to get us.”

He turned to Hoseok ready to tell him to shut up but his friend always struggled to read the room. Hoseok just laughed like he was telling the funniest joke, “Don’t look at me like that, it’s true. Who’s the one who made out with a girl who’s already taken?”

“I didn’t know,” Jungkook said and despite it being the truth, everyone looked at him differently now.

“So you’re one of those guys,” the man behind the counter said with a mischievous smirk that had Jungkook turning around to look at him. “One of what guys?”

“The ones I hex—“

“So!” You cut Jimin off suddenly, standing directly in front of Jungkook now, chest nearly touching his that his breath caught in his throat, “What are your plans for the night? Are we taking too much of your time? I’m sure it was a long drive out.”

“Is this a subtle way of saying it’s about time we leave?” Jungkook asked with an amused smile, a bit taken back by how flustered you seem to be. There was something charming about you, a complete stranger, and it keeps drawing him in. He finds you physically attractive in a way he’s never found anyone like before. He thinks you dress differently, you present yourself differently, you remind him of a fairy or some mythological creature—just enchanting… and it makes him feel ridiculous.

Why does he feel this way toward you?

“I—That’s not h-how I meant it,” you shook your head, blush running through your cheeks, “I just assumed you probably had more important things to do.”

“And what if I said this was the important thing for today?” He asked with a tilt of his head, not caring much for his friend who was busy looking at all the crystals or the guy behind the counter who pretended not to listen, “Talking to you.”

This time around he raised a smile from you, “It would be flattering, but I know it’s not.”

He smiled, “What if it was?”

You didn’t hesitate to look into his eyes despite the way he seemed to close the distance between you like you were the only two in the shop, “It’s not.”

“Why don’t you think so?” He asked, attempting to rest his arm on the counter only for him to hit Coal instead, awkwardly jumping back and watching you smile with amusement.

“Because it would be so sad to hold a mere occurrence with me, a complete stranger, with such high importance.” The tone you said it in sounded cute, like you were genuinely pitying him for living such a boring life even if that wasn’t the case.

It took Jungkook a second to process your response and he couldn’t go any further. It was very clear you didn’t want him around anymore and you already rejected his proposal to go out. He did not want to seem like a pushy person and he has to just accept that you’re simply not interested. Does it make sense to him? No. He’s a catch, every girl tends to want him—but he won’t push any further.

He swears.

“I guess we’ll get going then and let you get back to work,” Jungkook couldn’t help but look back down at your patterned skirt or pretty neck adorned with handmade jewelry, “Maybe next time I’ll buy something.”

“Next time?” You asked as he grabbed the back of Hoseok’s shirt, dragging him behind toward the front door. Jungkook smirked, “Yeah! I mean… this can’t possibly be the end, right?”

“Well, I didn’t think anything here would pique your interest,” you said looking around at the dangling gold stars and the hanging tapestries stuck to the ceiling.

“On the contrary,” he practically mimicked your form of speech as he shoved Hobi out the door, “My interest has been piqued. I’ll see you around?”

You wrapped your cardigan around yourself more snugly, feet finally growing cold under the flooring and appearing more flustered, “I guess so.”

He smiled, waving goodbye as he fought off Hoseok who nearly jumped over him to bid his own farewell.

“Oh, he’s smitten,” Jimin laughed the second the door shut with the chime of the bell above it. It made you roll your eyes almost instantly, “He’ll get over it. He seems like a flirt.”

“Mhm, and he’s flirting with you,” Jimin said, watching you with amusement, “Whatever shall you do?”

“What I always do,” you told him matter-of-factly, “Ignore.”

Jimin looked down at the book of moon magic before him, pretending to skim through it, “Like you always do? And how’s that working out for your love life.”

“Listen to yourself, you love witch,” you said with a groan, lifting a finger to slide the book away from him without touching it, “He’s a stranger.”

“Don’t they always start out that way?” Invincible hands opened the book for him as it slid across the counter till it was directly in front of him again and he resumed to read.

Jimin shrugged, “I’m just saying. It wouldn’t kill you to open up to someone.”

“It would probably kill them.”

“Yeah, but there are plenty of fish in the sea and way too many men in the world.”

The sky was a shade between blue and gray, and every now and then he could feel a rare drop of water fall on him as it threatened to sprinkle. The autumn leaves crunched under his thick shoes as he crossed the lawn of the courtyard on his way to his next class—running behind only a little.

You would think being in his last semester of schooling would make him have his shit together but it really only seems to make his life a bigger mess than before. It’s like it hasn’t clicked in his mind yet how close he is to the end and he still wants to spend his weekends getting drunk at parties and showing up to Monday morning lectures way too late.

“Jungkook!”

To be honest, he doesn’t ever want to admit it but his life is a hot mess. He’s all over the place—all the time. He gets into bad situations with girls and he does awful in school. He’s not that great at work and he struggles to focus on anything but he doesn’t know what to do.

The night of the party was a bit of a wake up call to him. Obviously he hadn’t changed yet but… he got his shit stolen and his car broke down in the same night. That’s enough drama to get a man thinking about his life choices. He needs to make changes but he doesn’t know how. How does he give up the parties and the drinking so he could take things more seriously?

“Jungkook!”

“Huh?” He slipped an AirPod out of his ear as he turned around in search of who called for him. About a foot or so away from him stood a girl, short blonde hair, painted red lips and Chanel jewelry on. She was the sort of attractive that anyone walking past might turn and stare but he just seemed to tilt his head with curiosity.

“We met at the club a few weeks ago, remember?” She asked, looking up at him with flirty eyes, “You bought me a drink?”

“I did?” Jungkook asked, letting his eyes trail down her head to her body and so on, “What’s up?”

“Oh, uh, I was wondering if you were busy today? I’ve seen you around campus and I still owe you for the drink so how about some coffee?” She asked running her fingers through her hair.

“I’m good but thanks,” Jungkook said, already attempting to walk away. He’s late for his lecture and he’s sure the professor won’t bother opening the door for him so he’s better off going to the library until his next class. He’s got two more lectures and then he’ll work tonight so there’s no time to go out with a girl he doesn’t even remember the name of.

“Wait! I just… yknow. I just want to say thank you for the drink,” she follows after him, “One cup won’t hurt anyone, right?”

He looked back down at her with a sigh. She really was cute and his usual type but he’s not interested. Sure he has about two hours before his next lecture but does he really want to waste that time on some girl he met while drunk [that he most likely only approached because he wanted to hook up with her?].

“Alright, can I pick the place?” Jungkook asked suddenly, watching the girls eyes widen happily as she eagerly nodded her head.

Jungkook had no idea why he agreed or where he even planned on taking her, he just knew it was a bit far but familiar—to him, at least.

He didn’t give her much room to come up with anything either before they were catching a bus to the other side of town where the buildings looked older and more fit for the fall season with the dead leaves and puddles in the dark pavement. Scarlet&Sage looked surprisingly busy today with customers going in and out without stop.

He only knew this because the coffee shop he was currently at was right across the street from it. Please do not ask him how this came about… he’s not sure. He just remembers seeing the cafè the last time he came over here and when the blonde girl asked for coffee it was the first place that came to mind. It had absolutely nothing to do with the whimsical character he’s encountered in the small shop of wonders.

“So, do you like the coffee here?” The blonde asked as they sat at a small round table near the large window that gave him the perfect view of the outside.

“It’s alright,” Jungkook mumbled, looking down at his cup wondering what you might be doing.

It’s not that he was weirdly obsessed or anything. He was just mildly interested.

Mildly.

His attention should be on the blonde but he couldn’t even remember her name and he was too embarrassed to ask. He talks to a lot of girls like her… he’s hooked up with a lot of girls like her and sometimes they all start to blend and he just can’t pick them apart. As stated, the blonde is hot, he’s not going to deny that and clearly he had approached her at some club for that reason but right now she just seems so bland.

It’s become a bit of a problem of his and he’s beginning to notice it. Jungkook did not consider himself a player by any means but he would be lying if he said he didn’t date a lot of girls. That’s why right now that he’s with some random girl who invited him to coffee, he couldn’t really think of her. He only agreed as an excuse to come to this side of town in hopes of stopping by the shop but now he’s stuck here with a stranger while you’re across the street doing who knows what.

The shop had been busy at open but once the rush had gone, things had visibly slowed down for the two witches. Jimin was bored to death, arguing with Coal over the dumbest of things and you tried busying yourself with useless flicks of your finger to turn on and off all the candles on the counter. Crystals by Stevie Nicks played from a small boombox tucked into a bookshelf and the cold autumn day dragged by too slow for your liking.

It’s not that you expect an exciting day on the regular but ever since you met those two strangers one October night, you couldn’t help but wonder if you would have more occurrences like that. When Jungkook sent the gift and flowers it was a nice surprise that brightened your day and when he and Hoseok popped in a few days later… well that also brought a sense of warmth. It couldn’t possibly be because you were interested in seeing Jungkook again despite how obviously handsome he was.

You do not allow yourself to fall in love or even gain a small crush toward anyone when you know the repercussions. Jimin could mock you for it all he wants but the curse has proven to be true time and time in your line of witches and you do not want anyone to fall victim to it because you foolishly allowed yourself to like someone.

Sure, deep down you’re a romantic but aren’t most people? Don’t most people wish to meet that one person that makes their heart race or their smile widen? Someone they find comfort in without even realizing it at first but once you do you don’t ever want to leave their arms? Isn’t that what everyone wishes even when they don’t know it? Even the most anti-romantic individual must at some point crave the intimacy that comes with finding the one they love.

It’s inevitable to feel this way but you can’t act upon any feelings you might have toward someone—you shouldn’t, and therefore you remain single despite something inside you wishing to change that. It’s for the best, honestly and maybe if you wish strong enough… you’ll never have to see Jungkook again because despite not knowing him at all… you can’t help but think about him.

“Y/n, I have a favor to ask,” Jimin said with a sigh as he joined you at the counter, “And there was nobody else I could think to ask this of aside from my most beautiful celestially whimsical best friend.”

The corners of your lips curved upward, rolling your eyes playfully as you waited for him to go on and just say it. His eyes met yours and with an adorable pout he asked, “Do you mind running to the post office for me? I’ve got a palm reading appointment in ten.”

“Oh, I suppose I could make a quick run,” you told him with a dramatic sigh, fighting back a smile when he squeezed your face in his hands. “I absolutely adore you, you beautiful witch.”

Jimin left to retrieve two white envelopes he needed you to drop off and you took them happily, heading to the door when you turned back to look at him, “Remind how amazing I am for doing the smallest of tasks for you.”

“Undeniably amazing.”

The coffee at the cafe was not memorable at all, in fact, Jungkook doesn’t know if he would ever come back again but deep down he knows he will, even if it’s just an excuse to stare at Scarlet&Sage. He’s ashamed to admit he couldn’t even pretend to act interested in what the blonde said and at some point she must’ve realized that because they sat together in silence. Her eyes wandered around the cafe while his focused on the brick storefront of your shop, wondering if he should stop by and say hello or not.

When the door seemed to open from the inside, he could physically feel his heart race and soon enough… you were there standing in a dark blue velvet slip dress with brown leather boots and golden star clips in your hair, shivering slightly with the cold and he acted before he could think.

“I’ll be right back,” Jungkook said abruptly, raising to his feet, not bothering to even look back at the blonde when she called his name and left the shop with all his things.

“Y/n!”

You read the sending addresses on the envelopes, smiling when you realized Jimin was sending this to a good friend of yours. At first, you didn’t hear the call of your name. If anything made you stop, it was the sudden howl of wind that had a stream of fallen leaves circling around you, following the sight of them until you turned back to find the one person you had been thinking about standing there before you.

“Jungkook?” You couldn’t hide the look of pleasant surprise on your face as you gave him a moment to catch up to you, “Did you trim your hair?”

That made him pause for a moment as he ran his fingers through the short black hair, shy smile on his face, “I did. Does it look bad?”

He didn’t ask where you were going when he began to walk alongside you. You shook your head, “I like it. It suits you, but I’m sure everything does, Dumbledore.”

“Will you ever let that go?” He asked slightly embarrassed by the worst night of his life and how strangely it was the reason the two of you met.

“Oh, of course,” you said, unable to catch the playful tone in his voice, “I’m sorry.”

“No, I didn—you didn—I just meant…” Jungkook cleared his throat awkwardly, “Um… so what are you doing?”

“I’m running an errand for Jimin,” you told him casually, turning the corner of the block with him at your side, “And what about you?”

“I wanted to try the coffee place across the street from you. I missed a class today and had time so…” Jungkook bit his lip wondering what more to say.

“The coffee is not good,” you said and he smiled. “It isn’t.”

“So… Y/n, I know last time you said it wasn’t a good idea but… I don’t know, I was wondering if maybe we could still try and get dinner. I don’t mean to push bu—“

“Why?” You asked suddenly, big sparkly eyes staring at him that he felt his breath hitch when the two of you stopped in front of the post office. He had to blink away the shock a few times before he was able to snap back into reality. Jungkook reached for the door, hearing the sound of bells above as he let you brush past him and head inside.

Why? What did you mean why? Did you find it strange that he wanted to go out with you? Did you think he had no valid reason to seek you out? Did he?

You left his side to drop the envelopes down the shoot before returning to him with a soft hum, singing some indie song in your head, thanking him when he held the door open for you again.

“I wish I could give you a million reasons as to why but I can’t,” Jungkook told you honestly, watching the way you seemed to shiver in the cold again. You forgot a cardigan or shawl and were sincerely regretting it now. He didn’t hesitate to take off his crewneck, offering it to you despite the cold biting his skin now and he finished his thoughts, “I only have one, Y/n and I think it’s fairly simple. I want to get to know you because I find you beautiful and interesting and you make me curious.”

“A lot of people are beautiful and interesting,” you tried to brush him off despite the sudden warmth running through your veins as you became overwhelmed by the lingering scent of his cologne on the sweater.

“But not like you,” he said and he surprised himself. When has he ever called someone beautiful and mean it? Another rustle of wind carried dead leaves in the air, this time circling around the two of you and you couldn’t help but watch one get caught in his hair.

“I don’t get you,” you admitted, walking a bit faster toward the shop now, “We’re practically strangers still and I’ve said no once so… yknow… I mean… wouldn’t you have other girls to try? Probably prettier ones and more outgoing so really there’s no need to try and go out with me when I’m sure you have better options out there with people you’re much closer to.”

Jungkook scoffed, a small smirk on his face, “I didn't think there was anything to get. I… well… yes, I do know others who I could ask but I’m not interested in any of them, only you.”

Was it that obvious that he had become a bit of a player? A romantic who jumped into relationships or flings for the adrenaline they brought? Could you read that on his face? With the way you turned to look into his eyes, he wondered if that really was the case.

You shouldn’t involve yourself with him.

It’ll only complicate things.

He seems to be a flirt, he could get anyone he wants so why is he stuck on you?

You’re already a bit interested in him too and that’s dangerous but when you look at his neck and see the necklace you gave him, you felt happy—not good.

“I’m a witch.”

Jungkook chuckled suddenly, unable to tell if you were trying to change the mood or scare him off, “Good thing it’s October and it’s the Season of the Witch.”

He doesn’t believe you, obviously—or well, not to the extent that you mean. It’s not a secret you like the craft but he doesn’t expect you to have a flying broomstick lying around.

“It’s the truth, Jungkook,” you told him as you neared the shop, “And that means I’m not good for you.”

“Why? Because you have a black cat and love crystals?” Jungkook joked lightheartedly.

“No. Because I have a curse to those who like me and it could really put them in danger,” you said and for a second he seemed to falter… genuinely wondering if you were being serious or not. He doesn’t believe in magic or curses like you’ve convinced Hobi to but it was an odd thing to say… maybe.

Maybe it wasn’t odd at all considering your lifestyle choice but…

But…

No.

You can’t just suddenly tell him that and expect him to believe it. It’s one thing to be fascinated by it all and open a store about it and actually—

Magic isn’t real.

Curses aren’t real.

“So you reject me because of a curse?” He asked, studying you closely to see how he would react. You didn’t reject him because you were uninterested, but because you believe you’re cursed? He knew you were a bit odd when he first met you but to this extent? And to know it hadn’t scared him back to the blonde who was surely already visiting Jimin to hex him. “And not because you want nothing to do with me?”

You bit your lip, “It’s complicated.”

“It doesn’t have to be,” he said, “Y/n, curses only have power if you believe in them and I don’t.”

Your eyes widened, unsure if you should be offended by his utter blindness to the magical or amazed by his clear mindset. What were you going on about? Did you expect him to run away when you said? Had you hoped he would? Would that have made it easier to not think about him? Maybe he just doesn’t fully believe you yet. Magic is a hard thing for everyone to accept.

People don’t want to believe what they can’t see.

“I should head inside now,” you told him quietly and you could visibly see the way he dejected, with his shoulders drooping, “And there’s something sticking out of your pocket.”

Jungkook barely had a second to process what you said before you were leaving him alone outside with his eyebrows furrowed as he felt around his black jeans with confusion.

His gaze softened with curiosity as he pulled out a piece of folded parchment paper from his pocket and opened it hurriedly.

‘Don’t say I didn’t warn you but here’s my number. xxx-xxx-xxxx — Y/n ☽’

Despite the utter confusion he felt on how you managed to put this note in his pocket, he felt more happy to know you’re opening yourself to him. He could worry about the strangeness of this later when it doesn’t feel like he’s on cloud 9 from simply getting a girls number.

“Jungkook!”

He bit the insides of his cheeks to hide a growing smile as he stuffed the paper back in his pocket, looking up with surprise as the blonde came up to him, “What happened? You suddenly left with some weirdo an—“

“I’m not interested,” Jungkook rushed out, “I’m so sorry, I seriously am but I can’t even remember your name and I’ve been too embarrassed to ask. You seem very nice and I’m sure I would’ve loved to get to know you but… but I want to pursue something with someone else. She’s a witch, apparently, which I find it hard to believe but she’s given me this note and I have no idea when she managed to give it to me without me knowing but it’s all so interesting and I don’t think I’ve ever felt like this before over something so sm—“

“Asshole,” the girl gave him a small shove, cutting off his rant and stormed away from him. He watched her go with a bit of pity because she was right. He was an asshole… for taking her invitation and using it to meet you. For leading other girls on and leaving them when he was bored. For wasting their time and he swears he does feel awful now.

He wants to be different and he’s wondering if his racing heart for you would be the start.

Even with the shove the blonde had given him, he couldn’t help but smile and pull out the paper again to read over the note as many times as necessary just to remember today.

And so it began despite the countless amount of times you told yourself not to fall for anyone. It was hard when he was texting you as often as he could.

jungkook: I still want to kno how u got the note in my pocket

y/n: with magic, silly

jungkook: like a magician’s?

y/n: no :/

y/n: like a witch’s.

jungkook: …

jungkook: why are u so cute

y/n: glamour magic?

“Who’s got you smiling like that?” Jungkook’s friend asked one day as they met up at the campus library. He looked up at Taehyung who sat down across from him on some comfortable lounge chairs, already getting his laptop out.

“Her name’s Y/n,” Jungkook sat up, “She’s a bit strange and unusual—but in a good way!”

Taehyung’s brows furrowed, “Cool, I guess. Anyway, are you coming this weekend?”

“Where to?” He asked, biting his lip as he thought of what to say back.

jungkook: or maybe that’s just how u are

y/n: maybe ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა but I’m dangerous

“Joon’s Halloween party,” Taehyung said, watching his friend smile before quickly typing.

jungkook: right…

jungkook: bc of the curse?

y/n: yeah

jungkook: nothing has happened to me yet

“Who?” Jungkook asked absentmindedly as he looked up for a mere second.

“Who?! Boy, don’t play with me. Namjoon. Kim Namjoon, big meaty buff Namjoon, our friend?” Taehyung scoffed with a laugh. Jungkook chuckled, “Oh right. Um… maybe.”

y/n: that’s bc we haven’t gone out

jungkook: so let’s change that and test the theory

jungkook: what r u doing tonight?

“I’ve invited some girls to meet us there, super hot, trust me you’ll like em,” Taehyung said despite how obvious Jungkook’s interest in you seemed. He had literally just brought you up and yet Taehyung didn’t seem to think that was going to stop Jungkook from wanting to meet other girls.

“Yeah…” Jungkook cleared his throat awkwardly, leg bouncing anxiously as he waited for you to answer, “I’m not really interested.”

Taehyung audibly laughed, not believing his friend as he opened his laptop to do some work. Jungkook narrowed his eyes at him, “I’m serious. I’m talking to someone right now.”

“I mean… are you bringing her this weekend?” Taehyung asked, making Jungkook shrug his shoulders. “I’m not sure Y/n would want to go.”

y/n: it’s a full moon tonight

y/n: but I’m free

jungkook: want to go out for dinner?

y/n: okay ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১

The smile that grew on his face from your text nearly slipped when Taehyung spoke up, “What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her. Come on man, it’s not like you’re dating anyone and if so when has that ever stopped you from a good time?”

“I’m not saying I won’t go, but I’m saying I don’t want to talk to any other girls, man,” Jungkook said with a sigh as he checked the time on his screen, “Alright, I’ve got to get ready.”

“Why? You don’t work till later, right?” Taehyung asked while watching his friend gather his things to leave. Jungkook nodded, “Yeah but I’ve got plans after so I have to get ready now. I’ll see you this weekend?”

Taehyung gave up on his friend and waved him off with a dismissed goodbye.

“A date?!” Jimin nearly yelled into your ear as the two of you watered the plants in the greenhouse, “You have a date tonight?!”

“No,” you shook your head, “It's not like that… Jungkook and I are just getting dinner.”

“As a date,” Jimin said with a roll of his eyes, “There’s no point denying it, Y/n. I will admit he’s not the type I thought you would go for but I support it fully if it means you’ll finally let someone in.”

“Why are you being so dramatic?” You asked, “I’m… I only agreed to dinner because he asked and I didn’t want to reject him again. Once he’s gotten. What he wants I’m sure he’ll move on to the next.”

“Y/n,” Jimin’s tone was stronger than usual, “I don’t believe that. Even if Jungkook seems to be the type… he can clearly tell there’s something about you that makes things worthwhile. Stop doubting it and just allow yourself to go out with someone.”

Just as you were about to try and brush this off with an excuse that you had to leave, Coal came prancing in holding the small skeleton fish Jungkook bought for him and set it before you to play.

When Jungkook arrived in front of the shop, he’s not sure what he expected. You looked as pretty as usual in a brown floral maxi dress and a thin lace cardigan and shimmer in your hair. You always looked pretty to him, natural and whimsical, ethereal. He’s not sure why he feels this way but he does and he likes the feeling.

“Hi,” Jungkook felt breathless as he held the car door open for you, unsure why he felt nervous at all. He’s been on hundreds of dinner dates, this was nothing new for him so why were his hands growing clammy?

“You’re nervous?” You asked, finger brushing against the front of his white shirt. A smile came to his face, “Maybe.”

“Why?” You asked even as your own heart raced with nerves.

“Honestly…” Jungkook bit his lip, waiting at your door, “I don’t know, you make me nervous.”

“Is that good or bad?” You asked.

“Good, I think,” Jungkook smiled as he shut the car door and rounded to his side.

He had no reason to be nervous, really, Jungkook was into you and he had a feeling you were into him too. Why else would you have agreed? Yes, you’re a bit strange and he still doesn’t understand what you mean by curse or how you got the note in his pocket but that doesn’t scare him. Why doesn’t that scare him?

Why did he suddenly feel like dinner wasn’t enough? He always had dinner dates. It was always his go-to first date idea.

You stared out the window as he started the car, completely unaware of his growing panic at the realization. You were more focused on the glowing moon than him and yet the silence in the car didn’t bother him. Usually, whoever he was with would talk his ear off but you were quiet right now. Were you growing bored of him before you gave him a chance to open himself up to you? Would you think the dinner reservation he set for tonight would be too cliché? You don’t seem like a 5-star restaurant date. You don’t seem like the type to care and yet he blindly set the date up in the same manner he did every other girl he went out with.

The thought alone was making him antsy and it was hard to miss the way his finger tapped against the steering wheel as he drove off.

“So, what restaurant are we going to?” You asked in a gentle voice, in hopes that maybe he wouldn’t seem so quiet. The question made him bite his lip, playing with his lip ring as his brows furrowed in thought, “I—um…”

His hands were clammy.

You blinked away your confusion, eyes dropping down to your lap as you asked, “Do you not want to do this anymore?”

“No! I mean… I—I want to but uh,” Jungkook stopped at a red light, “I um…”

How does he tell you what he had planned tonight was the same thing he always did whenever he went on a date with a random girl?

How does he tell you that’s not what he wants for you?

“It’s a full moon tonight?” Jungkook asked suddenly, staring out his tinted windshield. You merely nodded your head silently.

“Change of plans then,” he mumbled to himself, turning on his blinker and when the light turned green he took a completely different route from that of the restaurant. You wanted to question him, wondering if he was taking you back home but after a while the city lights grew fewer and fewer and the hills got bigger and bigger.

Jungkook drove a short distance out of the city where large meadows began to cover fields and fields of hills. He pulled the car to the side of the road and without question he got out, opening the trunk first and you grew worried.

“Is this the plot twist? You drive me out of the city to plan my murder?” You jokingly asked as you got out of the car and joined his side. He rummaged through paper bags pulling out water bottles and small snack bags he must’ve bought a while ago. He grabbed an old blanket he tossed back there after crashing at Namjoon’s place and asked you to walk with him.

“No, it’s just,” Jungkook took a deep breath, trudging through the thick grass in the dark night with only the full moon and stars eliminating his way, “I want to do things differently with you. I wanted to get dinner, yes, but… but it’s a full moon, Y/n. Do you really want to spend your night indoors where you can’t even see it?”

He thought back to the star clips in your hair that shimmered like the sparkles in your eyes. The way you seemed to love the spirituality of life and he didn’t even have to know you well enough to know how in tune you are with nature. One look at you told him everything he needed to know and despite the cold autumn night… he knew you preferred it over wherever he planned on taking you.

“I…” you bit your lip nervously, following after him into the clear meadow surrounded by hills and a single road where the car had been parked, “I’m sorry but I don’t understand.”

“Y/n,” Jungkook stopped to look at you, “I don't know how to explain it but you feel different to me. Since the first night we met, all I could think about was you and I don’t want to ruin the first chance you’ve given me to get to know you by doing the same thing I do every time. I want to do something that would be fun, maybe, different and more to your liking. I want to know why you brought up the moon tonight or why you talk about curses and glamours and why you enjoy the smell of incense. I want to know how the note got in my pocket and how you seem to communicate with Coal like you could truly understand him. The strangeness of it all fascinates me and sitting in a stuffy restaurant eating subpar food won’t tell me anything about you besides that you let me take you on a boring date.”

“You’re a bit strange,” you confessed, a smile growing on your face as small fireflies fill the meadow, “But I like it.”

Jungkook extended the blanket on the ground, throwing the things onto it before collapsing on his side waiting for you to join him. You sat down tucking your dress under your legs and moved to lay on your back, the sound of crickets somewhere off in the distance as you stared up at the sky.

Usually, Jungkook picked the noisiest of places possible so that he wouldn’t have to have his full attention on whoever he was dining with. If the conversation got boring he could always find somewhere else to focus before he would finally just invite him to his bed. Right now he’s got nowhere else to look aside from the night sky and you.

“Do you meditate?” You asked.

“No,” Jungkook said, turning on his back with an arm tucked under his head and the other on the blanket, “But I can try.”

“Okay, take even breaths and try to clear your mind,” you told him as you let your eyes close for a moment, “The full moon is a time to let go and welcome new energy in your life by reflecting on what you need to release.”

Jungkook didn’t say anything as he tried to listen to you, tried to visualize what he would like to let go. What did he need to reflect on?

Was it his grades? His shitty part time job at the convenience store? His past mistakes in relationships?

“Listen to the sounds around you, let them help you find inner peace,” you whispered with the wind catching his breath, small sounds of nature here and there, “Visualize your dreams, your reflections. Find your release.”

It’s his last semester of school and yet he misses class when he’s late. He agrees to go out with girls he has no real intention of getting to know and he puts himself in messy situations that drag his friends along too.

He’s tired of acting the same way he did when he was younger—never took responsibility and was always careless in his actions. Even the other when he went out with the blonde but not because he wanted her, but because he could use her as an excuse to himself to come seek you out. He disregarded her feelings.

When Taehyung approached him about the girls he wanted Jungkook to meet, he expect Jungkook to lie about seeing them even when he was interested in you because that’s what Jungkook usually did.

How does he change his ways?

Tonight he wants to release his toxic patterns.

He wants to embrace change and welcome the shift of energy you brought him. He wants to form deeper connections with those around him and open himself up to new possibilities, no matter how strange.

“Y/n,” Jungkook’s voice came out raspy as his hand felt around the blanket blindly until your fingers brushed against his and he was going to hold onto them, “How do you do it?”

“Do what?” You asked him, letting him hold your hand, ignoring the sudden tingle up your arm. His eyes opened, “How do you make me want to find comfort in you when you’re essentially still a stranger to me?”

“I’m not sure I know what you mean,” you said.

“Tell me about the curse,” Jungkook couldn’t believe he was saying it. It was one thing to go along with the joke over text but now that he’s lying here with you, he’s curious.

“Really?” You asked looking at him, watching him nod his head making you sigh, “Why? You don’t believe in it anyway.”

“But you do,” he said truthfully, “And I want to see what makes you believe in i—“

His words slowed down as he watched a butterfly land on your fingertip as if you called for it yourself. He’s not sure if it meant anything or if it was just the utter fascination he had of you but he wanted to kiss you. It had nothing to do with getting you in his bed tonight and everything to do with just feeling you and when he raised his finger to touch yours, he took your hand and pulled you toward him.

You didn’t pull back like he thought you might, and before he could really process it, you were leaning into him. Jungkook placed a hand on your jaw, guiding your lips to his until finally, the softest touch made his insides melt. You kissed him gently, scared almost and his face fit perfectly between your hands as he hovered over you, eyes closed and warm to the touch.

Jungkook felt as if something burst inside him and he just wanted to chase that feeling with your kisses, unable to help himself from getting lost in the moment. He felt a bit numb to his surroundings, the only feeling he had was your lips on his and your tongue running along his with need. His breath was becoming short and the soft push of your hand on his shoulder had him pulling back reluctantly.

“You’re a good kisser,” you whispered against his lips and he couldn’t help but break into a smile, pecking your lips one last time before letting his head drop against your chest.

“It’s late,” he said with a small sigh as he looked up at you, finding your eyes stuck on the full moon.

You looked down at him and he could practically see the way you glowed underneath him.

He didn’t believe in magic or witches but, how else would he explain this feeling of being under a love spell?

And if he allowed himself to believe in love spells then did he have to believe in curses too?

“Now what do you mean you’re not coming tonight?” His friend asked, sporting Jungkook as he did a set of bench presses.

“I don’t know if I’ll make it,” Jungkook answered, counting how many he did, “I’ve got plans with Y/n.”

“And what? She won’t let you out for one night?” Namjoon asked with a slight roll of his eyes as Jungkook set the bar back in place and sat up with deep breaths, “She can’t come with us?”

“It’s not like that,” he shook his head no, “I haven’t even mentioned it to her.”

Namjoon couldn’t help but scoff as he took Jungkook’s place, “Why not? Would she be mad if you told her that you were going out with friends, for fucks sake?”

“What? No, No, Y/n’s not like that,” Jungkook was getting annoyed with his friend’s assumptions, “But I already talked about this with Taehyung. I’m not interested in partying right now or anything. I just wanna… yknow, chill?”

“You don’t even sound like yourself,” Namjoon said with a laugh, deciding to not push any further, “But whatever, I get it.”

“Get what?” Jungkook watched him move the bar to begin his set.

“You’re talking to someone,” Namjoon said with baited breath, “You've gotta be on your best behavior.”

Jungkook rolled his eyes, “It’s not like I’m holding myself back. If I wanted to go out, I would.”

He’s being honest. You’re not keeping him from anything and it’s not like he was forcing himself to be someone he’s not but this wasn’t that serious. Yes, he had a tendency to go out with his friends every weekend and lately that’s declined but it’s not because of you necessarily. He’s just realized he’s way too exhausted these days to exert this much energy on a night he would regret by morning. He made terrible decisions and he’s tired of getting himself in trouble because of them.

“Just say the word and we can leave whenever you want,” Jungkook spoke into your ear as you looked around at everyone surrounding you. It was loud and packed with people in costumes, all looking to spend a fun night out celebrating Halloween. You’ll admit, it’s a bit out of your element but you’ll learn to adapt. It will just take some adjustment but the energy seems high and it might be more fun than staying at the shop to hand out candy all night.

“I’m fine,” you assured him, letting him place a hand on your lower back to lead you to the bar. Tonight was the first time you’ll be meeting Jungkook’s friend but you don’t feel nervous. If anything, he seemed more nervous than you and you weren’t sure how to feel about that. Since your first date the two of you have really leveled up whatever has been brewing between you since the night you met.

You’ve been spending more time together but it usually consists of Jungkook visiting you or texting all day. You haven’t had a chance to see more of him yet— as it feels like he’s been trying to accommodate you—so you’re curious to see how the night plays out with him and his friends.

“Look who finally decided to show up!” A loud voice boomed from the bar where you could see a familiar face smile at you. Hoseok waved happily at you as Jungkook led you to him and the others who watched you curiously. Hoseok ditched the hockey player costume for simple skull makeup and a leather jacket.

“There was a line to get in,” Jungkook admitted, slipping his hand in yours and pulling you forward, “What do you want to drink?”

“Surprise me,” you said with a smile. Jungkook ordered something on your behalf before turning to his other friends, “Everyone this is Y/n.”

“Jungkook didn’t do you any justice,” Taehyung said with a curious tilt of his head, “You’re way prettier than he said.”

“Oh no, what else has he said about me?” You asked with a soft tone that had both Taehyung and Namjoon blinking in surprise.

“Um, well…. A lot of things, neither one of them have shut up since they met you,” Namjoon confessed, looking to Hoseok who seemed to also think highly of you.

“Yes, I think Y/n put a spell on me,” Jungkook teased, handing you a bluish lavender drink and sending you a wink. He, of course, still felt nervous considering this is the first time he’s introducing you to his friends. It’s not that he’s embarrassed of you or anything but he’s definitely worried about what his friends would say to you. Not that long ago, Taehyung tried getting Jungkook to lie to you just because he didn’t care for how serious Jungkook felt about you. Now, Taehyung is here talking to you and Jungkook is worried he might say something he shouldn't.

Honestly, when the night started he didn’t expect you to want to come out. Namjoon had been bugging him all day about it and he had full intentions of not going out so he could spend the night handing out candy with you but… It’s like you have a sixth sense and when you asked him if he had any other plans, he told you what he was invited to and asked you to come along. He full heartedly thought you would say no because you don’t seem like the type to come out drinking but for some reason you agreed and he was happy with that.

Of course he was nervous to introduce you to the others but when he looked over at you and found you smiling softly, trying your hardest to be in the moment, he was grateful. His friends didn’t talk bad about him to you despite the occasional teasing and you didn’t seem uncomfortable by it. Every now and then he would run his thumb against your hip to remind you he’s there but mostly, he just listened.

“You’re being awfully quiet,” you said after a while. Taehyung had asked you question after question about the shop or the spell jar you made Hoseok and you indulged him in it all.

“Hm?” Jungkook fixed the tilt in your witch’s hat, “I’m just listening.”

“Are you having fun?” You asked letting his arm encircle your waist until you faced him. He looked at his friends who managed to grab the attention of some girls nearby and were in deep conversation with them.

His shoulders lifted in a shrug, “It’s alright.”

Your nose scrunched up in thought as you looked away from him, he kept you close trying to get you to look back at him, “I mean… yeah it’s fun but it’s loud and hot and… I don’t know, I kinda want it to just be us.”

“Just us?”

“Yeah, my friends have been talking to you all night,” he said it like it was a secret, “And Joon said he wanted me here so I came but now I’m really in the mood for us to leave—unless you want to stay.”

“Are you trying to ditch out on us?” Hoseok put an arm around his shoulders, dragging him into his side, “You barely come out anymore and now you’ve got Y/n here so there’s no reason to not want to party. It’s Halloween!”

“I know, but,” Jungkook played with his lip ring as he smiled lazily, “You’ve been taking all of my girl’s attention and I’m tired of sharing.”

The words slipped out but he didn’t regret them, even when you looked up at him curiously. He expected some sort of response from you but you merely smiled and shrugged like you weren’t apart of this exchange so when Namjoon asked what was up, Jungkook was honest.

“I think we’re calling it a night,” he had your hand in his, pulling into him as he looked at his friends and whatever girls they were with, “But you guys have fun.”

“That’s it?” Taehyung asked, looking at you, “Y/n, you don’t want to go to another bar?”

Jungkook released a small sigh as he looked down at you. He would love to leave but if you wanted to stay and maybe go to a few more places before ending the night… he’d do it but only because it’s what you want.

“I miss my cat,” you said it so casually that the others couldn’t understand it as an answer at first until you were waving goodbye, happy you met them but ready to go.

You didn’t talk much in the car and Jungkook drove carefully taking you back to the shop that was connected to your home. He’s not sure if you were tired or distracted but you stared out the window chasing the moon through the city. At one point he glanced over and found you nipping at your bottom lip with worry but he tried not to overthink it. The night had been good and you got along with his friends so there wasn’t anything he would change but the silence made him worry.

The car pulled up in front of the lantern lit shop and he looked at you with nerves waiting to see how you would Halloween. It was late but there were still a few people in costumes wandering around and too early to really call it a night. You silently pushed open the door, ready to leave when you sighed, “Jungkook.”

He didn’t have to say anything for you to know he’s listening and you turned to him, “Earlier you called me—“

My girl.

“I know,” he cleared his throat awkwardly, “I just meant… I—I don’t know. Was it corny?”

A small laugh left your lips at his sudden question and decided to tease, “Just a little.”

“Yeah, that’s what I was worried about,” Jungkook couldn’t help but chuckle, “I was trying to sound cool and…”

“Failed?”

“Whoa,” he held a hand to his chest, “I wouldn’t go that far.” The car was still on but he made no move to leave and neither did you. Instead, he just looked at you sitting half in his car with the door open, “You didn’t like it?”

“Um, it’s not that but,” you bit your lip in thought, “I’m just worried of your intentions.”

“With you?” He asked quietly, watching you nod your head shyly and he sighed, “You don’t know if it’s worth it.”

It sounded like a statement and he knew he was right. You were worried about the curse, he knew you well enough to know that but he doesn’t care. He wants to go out with you and some stupid age old curse isn’t going to change his mind. He understands that you believe it so he won’t look down on it but he wants to be with you.

“What if I said it was?” Jungkook asked with genuine curiosity, “It’d be the first time I get cursed by a witch.”

He meant the last part as a joke and it got you to smile so he was more comfortable to tease, “Maybe I’ll turn into a cat so Coal and I could be friends.”

“He doesn’t like having friends,” You said with a smile and he could practically see your walls crumble so he kept going.

“That’s a shame because I have a dog and he’s the friendliest boy you’ll ever meet,” Jungkook said with a defeated sigh.

“I’m warning you,” you said but he smiled. “I’ve been warned.”

“I won't be upset if you don’t want to see me anymore. I’m a bit weird, yknow?” You seemed to ask, already beginning to warm up to the idea and it was enough to give him hope.

“I would have never guessed,” he said as he twisted a silver star charm you had styled in your hair, leaning closer and closer till his face was only a couple centimeters away, “And if you’re trying to scare me off, it’s not working—I can wake up with a bald head of hair tomorrow and I’ll be fine with it as long as I get to talk to you again.”

“So, do you want to come up then?” You asked and you didn’t have to say it twice for him to be powering off the engine so he could follow you inside.

For the first time ever, he disappeared behind the celestial tapestry that led up to your front door, trying to look around in the darkness. You liked rich shades of purple and blue. You liked stars and sheer drapes on your ceilings. You liked stain glass lamp shades and big soft rugs. Your house was like a whimsigoth cottage in the city and your bedroom was everything he imagined it to be even in the dark.

He expected you to turn the lights or something but instead you seemed to snap a finger before a couple candles lit up the bedroom and he was lost in wonder. It felt like he was enjoying a cozy night in the woods, like he just rested his head on your lap and listen to you read his palm.

“Sorry, it’s a bit messy,” you shoved a couple books aside and looked around the bedroom, “Is there anything I can get you.”

Jungkook shook his head, deciding to go through your vinyls with curiosity, smiling whenever he saw a vinyl with the word ‘witch’ in the title. You explained to him that it was all Jimin’s doing because he found it funny to buy you every vinyl with a Halloween or witchy vibe to it.

“Jungkook,” you called to his distracted mind and he lifted his eyes to you, the reflection from the lit candles in his gaze. You were standing by the edge of your bed, looking shy as you took off the witch’s hat. His lips parted with surprise, letting his feet take him to you until you were face to face and so close that his front brushed against yours. “Is this really something you want?”

He was the guy who had every girl he wanted. He would go to parties and make out with people he should. He would make bad decisions and regret them right after but this feels far from a bad decision. It’s the first time in a while that something felt right and it had to be you. There’s a reason why he’s been cleaning his act up, going to all his classes, showing up to work on time and ditching the nights out getting drunk.

Of course this was something he wanted.

He wanted you.

He had feelings for you.

You felt warm and he wanted to brush his fingers against your hair. Your touch was gentle but sudden as you ran a hand down the front of his chest, circling around his neck taking all his attention once more and he began to lean into you.

“Of course this is something I want,” he said just above a whisper, letting his hands touch down on your waist, unable to hold himself back any longer before he was pressing his lips to yours and kissing you effortlessly.

You tilted your head back, kissing him with equal hunger as he pulled you even closer until your bodies began to mold together into one before guiding you to lay back on your bed. Jungkook was gentle but firm, his hands felt rough but he touched you with such softness when he ran them down your sides. He didn’t hesitate to try and relish in the feeling of you under him, kissing along your neck and pressing his lips to your pulse point until he could feel your breath hitch in your throat.

You’re not a virgin but you’re not entirely experienced and yet you couldn’t find it in you to be nervous. Not even when his hands began to hitch up your black dress making you raise your hips enough for him to pull it up. Jungkook never once pulled his lips away from your skin, the desire to leave love bites was too strong and you were so soft underneath him. You looked up at your dark ceiling with its silver stars plastered all over and a handing moon lantern at the center, letting him kiss down your chest and navel.

“Is this okay?” Jungkook asked with genuine concern as he laid between your parted legs. The skirt of your dress had been pulled up to your stomach exposing the black underwear you wore, feeling his gentle fingers run against your hips patiently. A smile came to your face when he rested his head against your thigh, looking up at you lovingly and you nodded your head.

Jungkook pressed a kiss to your inner thighs, nose brushing against the sensitive areas as his nimble fingers began to brush along the thin black fabric, not yet touching you directly but feeling the outline of what was underneath. He could almost feel it all, the curve of your mound down to the slit where he pushed his thumb against until he could make out your entrance and feel the way you seemed to gasp when he teased you.

You had to bite down on your lip to keep in the surprised yelp from the way he began to pull your underwear down, moving to kiss whatever he exposed, not shying away from being more intimate. He raised your leg, sliding the cloth off before placing soft kisses against your calf and thigh, leading your legs over his shoulders before he laid back down and looked at what was between them. You felt like running away from how focused he seemed on your heat, almost asked him why until he was leaning down, tongue coming out to swipe against your hooded clit teasingly.

The bed was lush with pillows, using them to sink your head into when he did it again, this time more firm and intentional. You’ll admit, it’s been a while since you last had gotten intimate with someone so you couldn’t help but squirm when his tongue became more languid in its movements, separating your folds with the tip of it and letting his lips tug on the pulled skin. You couldn’t help but gasp, feeling his fingers pinch your thighs to keep you still while he circled your hardening clit with the tip of his tongue before kissing your labia and licking up whatever slick you released.

“Oh,” you couldn’t help but let out when he pressed his tongue against your entrance, nose pushing against your clit and just letting himself be completely engulfed by your essence. You could practically feel him smile against your core when he tilted his head to the side to tug your labia softly between his lips before letting it go and repeating the action.

When your hand found his hair, he seemed to pause wondering if you wanted him to stop, but then he felt a tug and he was helplessly following after you until you kissed, neither caring if there was the taste of you on his tongue. A low groan bubbled up in his throat that slipped through your lips when your tongue licked along his like you didn’t care he had just been kissing your soaked pussy and that made him unbelievably hard.

Jungkook moved a hand down to your legs, finding its way to your wet cunt, gently pressing into the puddle of slick at your entrance before moving up to your clit and rubbing it between his fingers. Your hands were in his hair, tugging softly whenever he did something you liked and with his tongue down your throat, he didn’t hesitate to tease your entrance with his middle finger, already feeling how tight your walls are when he began to press inside. Your mouth slipped open in pleasure as he thrusted a long finger into your cunt, palm flat against your clit and rubbing it in rhythm with his finger that soon became two, “You’re so wet, Angel.”

His fingers were completely soaked and anytime he pulled out his fingers to push them back in, he could practically feel the puddle around them and it made his dick throb in his pants. Your kissing came to an end when Jungkook couldn’t help but feel the need to disappear between your legs again, a bit annoyed that the fabric of your dress was in the way but pulled away anyway.

You arched your back off the bed in pleasure when his mouth found your clit again, paying his full attention back on it instead of his fingers which never relented on pumping in and out of you with such vigor that your legs began to shake, “Jungkook.”

“Hm?” He moaned, teeth lightly tugging on your folds and watching them go back until he licked against them to do it again.

“Are you close, Angel?” Jungkook asks with an unusually hoarse voice when you start to clench around his fingers, “Go ahead, let go for me.”

Your face hot and your chest heaving at the intensity just as it hits you and you’re cumming with a whimper that you try and hide behind a closed fist when his tongue eagerly licks up your release as it flows out and around his fingers. It took him a while to stop, only when he felt your thighs tremble did he pull away, some of your release coating his lips and piercings that he hungrily licked clean. A curse left his lips breathlessly as he sat back on his knees and looked down to see the way your pussy was flooded in slick.

You sat up once you had caught your breath, moving closer as he stared at his coated fingers curiously and without thinking, you took his hand by the wrist and brought his fingers toward your mouth. He watched you lick the space between them before bringing them into your mouth and sucking your essence clean off them.

“Fuck, Y/n,” his eyes fell shut as he let himself sink into the feeling of his fingers being sucked into your warm mouth and it was so hot in this bedroom. He pressed his thumb against your cheek as he attempted to take his fingers out of your mouth so he could use two hands to undress finally and you let him do just that. You bit into your bottom lip when he took his shirt off exposing more tattoos and muscle you had never seen but knew was there.

He looked at you as he undid his jeans, kicking them off along with his briefs exposing his hard cock that pointed straight with need that had him wincing at even the slightest touch of his hand against his tip. You quickly pulled on your dress, proving Jungkook’s earlier thoughts right when he questioned if you wore a bra or not—the answer was not—and it led him straight back to you. He kissed down your collarbone, hands on your hips as laid down between your legs, cock against your core causing him to moan out when he raised a hand knead your breast.

“I don’t have a condom,” he whispered in realization as he looked down at the way his slick began to tease your clit. Of course he wanted to continue but he doesn’t have any protection and it’s up to you what you want to do.

Your hands roamed against his back, “Jungkook.”

He looked up at you, lip pulled between his teeth when he felt your hand disappear between your pressed bodies until it circled around his stiff member making him bite back a groan of pleasure. You gave him a few strokes, guiding him down until his tip slipped into your slick and he looked at you with want when you said, “Just fuck me.”

It was all he needed to let himself sink into your entrance, a low moan leaving his lips as he felt his cock open your walls to adjust to his size. He didn’t stop pushing until he was all in, waiting there and feeling your breath grow more impatient as you got used to the feel of him.

He took things nice and slow, still concerned that you might want to end things any second, hoping you began to feel easy how good it felt when he rolled his hips, pushing more of his cock into you when you tightened.

“Fuck…” Jungkook couldn’t stop from cursing as pleasure took over his instincts. His body perfectly molded against yours with no space between them as he only used his hips to fuck you, “So good.”

Although he’s ashamed, he’ll admit that he has had his fair share of sexual intercourse but he can’t remember the last time he felt this good. His body felt like it was moving on its own accord, seeking its own pleasure with yours and he was so close. He kissed along your neck when you tipped your head back, lips parted with the force of his hips pushing himself deeper in a steady, but rough thrust of his cock.

Your breasts pressed against his chest as he practically hugged you to him with each thrust and he knew you were as close as he was to release. He brought a hand up your side until he was cupping a breast in his palm, kneading the soft flesh and rubbing his fingertip against your nipple watching the way your jaw seemed to drop in warning that you were close. Despite his hair being much shorter than it used to be, it still fell forward and over his eyes looking sweaty.

“You feel so good, Angel” he grunts, talking you both through orgasm. It was true, although he was doing all of the work, every little moan he pulled out of you mixed with the feel of your body against his felt so damn good. It made all this patience he had when it came to you worth it.

When Jungkook knew you were just over the edge, he brought his hand down, barely pressing it into your clit when he felt your walls tighten, a growl leaving his lips at how you sucked his cock in until finally, the tension broke and he felt himself flood with your release. He dug his face into your neck, shaking slightly as he bit back his own orgasm until yours subdued and he carefully guided his dick back out. Once the air hit his exposed, soaked member, everything broke loose.

You had taken him in your hand, stroking him through release and costing your thigh in his cum, listening to his string of moans and groans of pleasure with a gentleness he’s not sure he’s ever felt.

It took you both a while to regain some awareness and were ashamed to admit it was Coal’s persistent meowing on the other side of the bedroom door. Jungkook couldn’t help but laugh as he let himself collapse down on your bed next to you, breathing heavily with a hand on his chest as he saw stars—literally, littered across your ceiling. His hand searched endlessly for some sign of you, taking a lock of your hair and twisting it around his finger when you moved to sit up, hands covering your exposed intimates almost shyly. He raised a curious brow, sitting up on his elbow as he looked at the mess the two of you had made.

“You okay?” He asked with concern. The candles lit around the room reflected a soft glow off your skin and you looked as ethereal and whimsical as he thought that first night.

“Yes,” you said quietly, “I think I need a shower, though.”

He smiled, “So let’s take one.”

The next morning you found him sitting at the wooden counter of the shop.

“What are you reading?” You asked Jungkook as he had a book open, studying it carefully.

“Natural contraceptives,” Jungkook mumbled as he wrote down the names of various herbs on an old napkin, “I should have been more prepared last nigh—Do you have Black Cohosh or Angelica by chance? I heard if you drink it in a tea, it should help promote menstrua—“

Your hand covers his mouth when you felt the tall tale signs of your best friend approaching. Even before Jimin opened the door to the shop, he had a shit eating grin at the sight of you two, and not caring much for secrecy as he waved a finger to turn the sign to ‘OPEN’.

“So what did the two of you get up to last night?” He asked casually, trying to peak at the book that you quickly slammed shut bringing an amused smile to Jungkook’s face.

“We went out for some drinks,” Jungkook answered, standing up with an arm around your waist, pressing a kiss to your temple, “I’m going to start boiling water.”

It was strangely comical and endearing the way he acted and Jimin watched the way your gaze followed after him.

“Wow, and I didn’t even have to cast a love spell to bring that look into your eyes.”

On the night of November 1st, outside during a crescent moon, Jungkook asked if you could be his girlfriend sounding strangely shy that you couldn’t say no.

::.

omg this took me forever but I finally got out a little Halloween fic and I’ve actually done a softer, cuter oc than usual? woahhh who am I. also my bday is this Sunday [oct 29] and I just think I’m so special I gotta let yall know

permanent taglist: @notmyfaultbutours @rerefundslocals @fandems @sugaluvmyg @guvgguk @kimyishin n @libra04 @kooromiwrld @classycreationcupcake-blog @alwaysdreamingnotsleeping @cherrymonlightt @nikkiordonez12 @asking4-sanity @thvlover @saweetspoiled @uwu2rawr @shaybts-blog @babycandy111 @tearyjjeon @joons-uparupa @jeonninja @yellowcupid08 @02010802faves @knudsenheggedel @skzthinker @unnatae @aurorthi @beautywine @95ene @taekookstata @lilliankoo @shescharlie @annenakamura @lesoleile @burnahtsw @babybella337 @kooloveys @ku-ku @chaelvrx @minnie-mouser22 @Imeneghd @whoa-jo @evajeonsworld @marvelbun @sunnikthv @kochycooky @heyhowyoudoin3 @acielelyseen @giselleswifeee @jeonjk25 @ilikeitlikethatt @bangmechanpls @lvr2seok @badbyeyoongi @jaerisdiction @watermelonjuice15 @artmsmaid @xyahrinx @angeleen777 @jooniesxbby @brillantdarling

#jeon jungkook #Jungkook smut #jungkook fic #jungkook imagines #jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenarios #jungkook bts #bts jungkook #jungkook #jungkook oneshot #jungkook drabble #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x oc #jungkook request #jungkook recs #bts smut #season of the witch #kinktober

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midnightstar-90 · 7 months

Text

In Charge

Cooper Family x Fem!Reader | Georgie Copper x Fem!Reader Taglist | Requests | Wattpad Main Masterlist | Other Actors and Characters Masterlist Requested Anonymously: “hi honey! i have no idea if your still taking requests but if you are, could you do a georgie cooper x fem!reader (where they are already dating), and that missy some how convinces everyone to pretend to be a family (like georgie’s the dad, y/n is the mum, sheldon and missy are the kids) and at the end when y/n stays over georgie tells them how great of a mum she would be and how he wants to start a family with her? just pure fluff? love your work so so much <333” Summary: The reader’s in charge and all she wants is Peace, which leads to an interesting conversation between her and Georgie. Warnings: None, really. I mean, there's fluff, but other than that... nothing really A/N: My ADHD is allowing me to write today, so that is what I shall do. This will be based before Georgie drops out of school and has a kid. And because it was an anonymous request, I couldn’t ask, but instead of playing house, I made it as the reader babysitting. That’s kind of like playing house right? I just didn’t know how to make it about them playing house without it basically being Y/N and Georgie babysitting. If you requested this and didn’t like it, I will rewrite it as them all playing house, just privately DM me, if you’d like to remain anonymous. Words: 2.4K

“Alright, everyone, I’m headed to the store,” Mary said as she exited her room. She made her way through the living room seeing Y/N and Georgie cuddled up on the couch, flipping through channels with no one else in sight.

Mary turned to Georgie and asked, “Where’s your father?”

Georgie’s eyes stayed glued to the TV screen as he gave his mother a shrug of the shoulders. Y/N saw this and slapped Georgie’s shoulder with a hard glare. “Georgie, it’s disrespectful to ignore your mother,” the teenage girl said sternly.

“Ow!” Georgie exclaimed, looking away from the TV to observe his arm for a bruise. When he realized he was okay, he looked up, looking between his girlfriend and his mother. “I didn’t ignore her. I said that I didn’t know.”

Y/N glared and rolled her eyes at the boy before looking over at her boyfriend’s mother. “I don’t know where he went, but he was grumbling about having a hard day,” She said, answering Mary for Georgie. Mary thanked the girl before continuing into the kitchen with a scoff. She mumbled her husband’s name, annoyed, and called out, “Y/N’s in charge.” Georgie’s eyes instantly went wide in shock as he stared wide-eyed at the kitchen entrance, unable to actually see his mother from his current position. Y/N sat next to him with a smirk as they heard the sound of keys jingling and a door closing.

As soon as the door closed, Sheldon stormed out of his room, looking as if he was about to blow his top. “Mom!” He loudly called out, not receiving an answer.

Georgie paid no mind to the boy, instead bringing him back to the television as if nothing happened. Y/N looked over at the boy with caring eyes and said, “She just left. What’s up, bud.”

“Do you know when she’ll be back?” Sheldon asked frantically.

“No, I don’t. I’m sorry. Is it something I can help with?”

Sheldon hesitated, not knowing if he trusted Y/N enough to help him. He wasn’t used to going to people outside of his family for help. He huffed, “Missy took my Flash action figure, and she won’t give it back.”

Y/N stood from her spot on the couch. Georgie gave her a quick look and then turned back to the TV. “I’m sure Missy wasn’t trying to intentionally upset you, Sheldon,” The girl reassured him in a soft voice.

Sheldon gave Y/N a blank stare. “Have you met my sister?”

She chuckled and said, “Come on. Let’s see for ourselves.”

She followed Sheldon to his shared room, leaving Georgie alone on the couch. As they entered, the two spotted Missy sitting on her bed playing with a Barbie doll and Sheldon’s Flash action figure.”

“See!” Sheldon exclaimed, pointing directly at his twin.

Y/N let out a small “mhm” as she moved to sit on Missy’s bed, next to her. “Hi, Missy.”

“Hi,” She responded, continuing to play with the doll and action figure. (I know there are people who would ridicule me if I put the action figure in the “dolls” category, so I’ll leave it at that.)

“Whatcha doing?”

“Playing.”

Y/N heard a frustrated groan behind her and quietly sighed.

“Missy?” Y/N spoke a bit more sternly than before.

“Hmm.” Missy looked up at the older girl.

“Did you take Sheldon’s to-”

“Action figure,” Sheldon cut the girl off to correct her.

“Did you take your brother’s Action Figure without asking?” Y/N asked. The younger girl gave the teenager an apologetic frown as she slowly placed the dolls on the bed. Sheldon swooped in behind the girl and snatched his Flash action figure from off of his twin’s bed.

“It’s not very nice to take people’s things without asking. What if Sheldon did it to you?”

“I’d punch him in the face,” Missy Responded.

Y/N scolded Missy, causing her to shy away. “Apologise to your brother.”

“But-”

“I said apologise.”

“This isn’t fair.”

“That doesn’t sound like an apology to me,” Y/N said, still scolding the child in front of her. She heard a snicker behind her and slowly turned to face Sheldon. Sheldon jumped. His smile was replaced with a look of fright. “Something funny?” Y/N asked the boy. She was now scolding him, but it was the frightening position the girl was in that really scared him. Her body was facing his sister, whilst her head faced him. He felt as if he were staring into the eyes of an owl that looked like his brother’s girlfriend.

He quickly shook his head. “No. No problem.”

“I don’t think laughing at someone who is trying to apologize is really respectful. I think you both should apologize to each other,” She ordered. The room went silent for a second before the two suddenly began to speak, simultaneously.

“I’m sorry for taking your stupid doll without asking.”

“I’m sorry for laughing at your terrible excuse for an apology.”

Y/N looked between the two in utter shock. How can they both be this bad at apologizing? She shrugged it off as she stood up from her sitting position. “Well, it wasn’t the best, but we’ll get there. For now, I don’t want to hear any more about this Flash doll-”

“Action figure.”

“Whatever! I don’t want to hear about it anymore, okay? The two nodded and the girl took that as her cue to go. She went back into the living room to see Georgie still watching TV. She scoffed, rolling her eyes at her boyfriend.

As she approached her spot on the couch, Georgie looked up, finally noticing her. “Hey, you’re back,” Georgie said with a smile. “I kept your seat warm for you.” He patted the spot where she sat, earlier.

Y/N looked down at the couch cushion in disgust. “Literally or figuratively, because I told you last time that that was gro-”

“Relax. It was figurative. Geez, you do one thing as a joke, and suddenly you’re labeled for life.”

Y/N laughed at her boyfriend's dramatics as she joined him on the couch. Georgie looked over at the girl, admiring everything about her. In his mind, he saw Y/N as the prettiest girl in the universe. No one compared to the girl when it came to looks, smarts, and her nurturing personality.

He wrapped his arm around the girl and pulled her into his chest. “You know, I think you would make an amazing mother one day,” Georgie said, catching Y/N off guard. She lifted her head off of her boyfriend’s chest so that she could look at him.

“Wow! Where did that come from?”

“I’ve seen you with my family, and despite how messed up it is, you manage to wedge yourself into everyone’s heart one way or another. Not to mention the fact that I heard how you handled Sheldon and Missy, just now. That’s something I’ve only seen my mother do and succeed. But in my opinion, you did it best,” Georgie said. Y/N’s heart was racing as watched and listened to Georgie speak about her. Tears brimmed her eyes as she gave the boy a loving smile before giving him a quick kiss.

“Awe, Georgie. That’s the sweetest thing anyone has said to me.”

“Well, it’s true.”

“If it’s any consolation, I think you’ll be an amazing father.”

“Really?”

“Really,” Y/N chuckled. The two pulled each other in super close for a tight hug. Y/N’s head, once again rested on Georgie’s chest. She closed her eyes as she took in the aroma of her boyfriend’s cologne. Georgie placed a kiss on top of her head, wishing that this moment would never end.

When they pulled out of the hug, Y/N moved slightly away from the boy, so that she could get a better look at him. She wore a mischievous smirk as she asked, “When you thought of me as a mother, what did you envision?”

She chuckled as she watched Georgie think for a second. “I saw you… as my wife. And in your arms, we have a son, who you can never put down because he loves his momma so much that if you try to put him down, he screams. And don’t get me started on the sleeping situation.” Y/N laughed, making Georgie smile. She motioned for Georgie to continue. “Okay, well we also have 4 other kids.”

Y/N’s eyes went wide in astonishment. “5 kids? You think of us having 5 kids?”

“And a dog. Anyways there’s little Joanne, but she goes by “Jo”. She’s a tomboy and a daddy’s girl at the same time. Then there is Tommy. He’s a year older than Jo, and he’s tough. If you mess with his siblings you are in a world of hurt.”

Y/N nodded her head, saying a small “okay,” as she continued to listen. “The oldest two are Fawn and Sam. Their completely different, but the two are always together, which sometimes leads to fighting. That’s where you, the mamma bear come in. You know all your kids, and you know how to easily tame them.”

“I like it,” Y/N chuckled. “Now I don’t know if I can handle 5 kids, but I love your idea of what our family would look like in about 20-30 years.”

“Hold on. You want to wait until we're in our 30’s and 40’s to have kids?”

“Sorta. I mean having all those kids is gonna take time. And how will we support them if we aren’t stable? You can take care of kids all day, but who is gonna provide? Kids are expensive, Georgie. You gotta feed them, clothe them, put them through school, take them to the doctor. You need money for all of those things.”

“And I can do that,” Georgie added. “I’m gonna be the moneymaker. I’ll have a job that pays well, and move us into a nice, big house.”

“What about me?”

“What about you?”

“I don’t want to be a housewife. I want to have my own job. And why do you get to be the main source of income?”

“First off, I didn’t say you had to be a housewife. You can have a job, but I want to be the one who gives you everything you want. I want to take care of you and to do that, I work hard, maybe even owning my own company.”

“Businessman. I can somewhat see it.”

“Well, I will be. That’s how we can afford everything because my business is booming,” Georgie assured the girl. Her smile remained on her face, getting wider and wider as they went deeper into their hypothetical future together.

The two continue to talk for a few more minutes as the sound of feet walking across the floor gets closer and closer to them. The sound eventually stops behind Y/N. Georgie looks up and glares at the person who interrupted their moment together. “What now, Sheldon?” Georgie asked with a touch of irritation.

“I’m hungry,” Sheldon spoke. Y/N turned to look at the boy.

Georgie responded to Sheldon, “You’re smart, don’t you know how to make you a sandwich?” Y/N kicked Georgie’s leg, receiving a small “ow” from the older boy.

“Sheldon, your mom went to the store. I’m sure she’ll be back soon and she will start on dinner.”

“But I’m hungry now.”

“Sheldon, if you eat now, then you are gonna spoil your appetite. And you know more than anyone that it takes longer than an hour or two to digest your food, so why don’t you go back in your room, and wait.”

“Okay,” Sheldon sighed as he made his way back to his room.

“See! You just tamed a wild Sheldon, that’s almost impossible.” Y/N rolled her eyes at Georgie’s comment.

“Y/N!” Missy called out walking into the living room. Y/N watched the younger girl walk in with an arm full of dolls. “Y/N, will you play with me? I’m bored, and I have no one to play with.”

“Sure,” Y/N agreed, giving Missy a beaming smile. She moved off the couch. “What? Nooo! Where are you going?” Georgie asked, frowning up at his girlfriend as she moved farther and farther away from him. Missy quickly grabbed Y/N’s hand with her free hand and started pulling her toward her room. Y/N looked back at Georgie and whispered “Sorry,” whilst laughing at Georgie’s expression.

Georgie eventually left the couch and went to his room. He was jealous of the fact that Missy and Sheldon had basically hogged up all their time together. He aggressively flopped on his bed and opened up the magazine he was reading before Y/N came over.

His door was open, in case Y/N got bored of playing dolls with Missy and wanted to join him. So when Mary walked into the house and dropped her keys in the key bowl, Georgie heard it. Y/N must have heard also, because as soon as he heard his mother grunt, probably from bringing in groceries, Y/N rushed out of the room and graciously helped the woman.

Georgie stood from his bed and curiously entered the kitchen. He watched Mary and Y/N laugh as they walked back into the house with the groceries. “I must admit Y/N since Georgie has started seeing you, he’s been different.” Y/N looked up at the woman with a frown. “No! Not in a bad way. He’s kinder and a bit more respectful. And look at this house! Usually, I come home and there is something that needs cleaning up, and today, it’s just as I left it.”

“Well, thank you, Mrs. Cooper. We did have some issues, but it was quickly resolved and the peace was restored.”

“Oh, you don’t have to think of me. You did an excellent job. I hope one day I get to call you my daughter-in-law.”

“Awe. Stop Mrs. Copper. You’re gonna make me cry,” She said, fanning her bright red face. Georgie saw the tears lining her eyes from where he stood.

The front door opened, revealing George walking into the house in his work clothes. He saw Georgie standing in the kitchen watching his mother and girlfriend interact. “What are you doing?” He asked his son as he approached.

“Mom and Y/N are… bonding? I don’t actually know what’s happening,” Georgie said with a shrug of his shoulders.

George chuckled and clapped his hand against his son’s back. “From me to you, good luck. You’re gonna need it.” And with that, George was gone, leaving a confused Georgie alone with his thoughts.

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aemondsbabe · 1 month

Text

What is Owed

summary: the gold cloaks raid the brothel, you make a deal to secure your freedom

pairing: harwin strong x lyseni!reader x daemon targaryen

warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, reader is briefly described as having lyseni features (pale hair, purple eyes) but no other physical descriptors are used, mentions of sex work, reader is a sex worker, breast/nipple play, dirty talk, double penetration, piv sex, anal sex, anal fingering, regular fingering, squirting, unprotected sex, double creampie oh jeez, oral (m receiving), handjobs, hands on necks, "whore" is used both as a pet name and degradingly we love innovation, big hulking men idk, let me know if i missed anything!

word count: 7.7k

a/n: so sorry for being away! wasn't intentional, just busy with life things! but god i missed writing and i'm so happy to finally have this one done! daddies galore!

likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!

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A barely concealed sigh of disgust leaves your lips, which remain pulled into a tight, docile smile as some lord, whose name you couldn’t be bothered to remember, finally finishes over your bare chest with a beastly grunt, his hips twitching as you stroke him through it.

Took his sweet time, you think as you rise to your feet and quickly grab one of the spare cloths stashed in the nearby vanity to wipe his spend from your chest. Depositing the cloth in a nearby basket, you take a moment to right your dress and run your fingers through your pale hair. Finally, you turn back around and eye the man still lying across the ornate chaise catching his breath.

You glance at his trousers, still haphazardly piled on the floor, before checking him once more, smirking when you see that his eyes are still closed. Carefully, you make your way over to his trousers and kneel once more as you grab for the heap of fabric; keeping your eyes on him, you swiftly rifle through the pockets and smile triumphantly as you pull a few coins from one – one golden dragon, three copper stars, and a half-penny.

Grinning, you toss the man’s trousers back onto the floor before quickly grabbing the small coin purse you keep tucked away beneath the chaise, way back toward the wall and covered by the ends of one of the red satin curtains that cover the windows of the brothel – the perfect hiding spot until you can move them to the more secure lock-box beneath your bed.

“Mmph,” the lord sighs, stirring finally just as you drop the last coin into your pouch. Shoving it back beneath the chaise, you quickly rise to your feet with a placid smile just as he finishes stretching.

“Some wine for you, my lord,” you smile, keeping your voice light and sweet in just the way the Madam likes as you offer him a goblet, “To replenish your strength.”

“Yes, yes,” the older man mumbles, paying you no mind as he busies himself with the buttons on his tunic, “Fetch me my trousers,” he commands, brushing you off with a wave of his hand.

“Of course, my lord,” you nod, teeth gritting as you set the goblet back down before grabbing his blasted trousers with an eye roll. He all but snatches them from you with a pompous little hum, not even looking in your direction. Once again behaving as the Madam demands, you merely stand by while he redresses, hands clasped demurely in front of you as you wait to be of service once again, or, hopefully, to kindly escort him to the door.

You don’t mind working in the brothel, not really, especially knowing that it could be much worse – you could’ve ended up as one of the many beggars that line the streets of Flea Bottom or, more dreadful still, stuck as a slave back home. It was luck, really, that brought you to the brothel in the first place, back when you were still stumbling half-blind with grief around the fish market by the docks only to be plucked up by chance by a few of the girls from the brothel. They’d brought you back here, promising that the Madam would take you in, that you’d earn great money with your exotic looks.

One of those things had been true – the Madam was very happy to take you in. Technically, you do also make great money… for the brothel; only a small percentage is ever paid back to the workers and, for your circumstances, that just won’t do. Which is precisely why you sometimes took a little tip for yourself, especially if your client for the evening was of higher status; it’s not as if they’d miss, or even notice, a few missing coins.

As far as you’re concerned, it’s a flawless system.

You’re brought out of your short reverie by another sigh from the lord as he polishes off the goblet of wine you’d offered some moments ago and once more, your lips quirk up into a pleasing smile, “Leaving so soon, my lord?”

“Mm,” he merely grumbles before flashing you a lecherous grin, his yellowed teeth making your stomach turn, “Worry not, girl, I’ll be back before the tournament’s over.”

“Wonderful,” you sigh, grimacing internally as you make a half-step toward the arched doorway, “I’ll see you out.” Blessedly, the lord makes no more of a fuss and lets you lead him to the entryway, sparing you one final nod before slipping down the dimly lit street.

You remain in the doorway for a moment more, arms crossed over your chest as you gaze outside, relishing the feel of the cool night air against your skin. After a moment, though, your eyes narrow when you realize the streets seem much quieter than usual. At this hour, there would normally be more people about – some returning from a long day of work, others already stumbling around drunk, but tonight there were only a few scattered people roaming about.

“Strange…,” you murmur to yourself, absentmindedly running a finger over the gold chain around your neck, your fingers brushing over the small key hanging from it. Sparing a glance up at the Dragonpit looming on the nearby hill, you finally close the door with a shrug. Returning to the room you’d serviced the lord in, you glance around quickly to make sure the coast is clear before you retrieve the small coin purse from beneath the chaise, smiling at the weight of it as you carry it swiftly back to your bed, to your little lockbox, wholly unaware of the envious gaze on your back.

“Commander on the floor!” One of the Gold Cloaks shouts as Daemon prowls into the hall, a self-righteous smirk on his lips as the drum of fists against chest plates ceases.

“When I took command of the Watch, you were stray mongrels,” he growls, dark violet eyes surveying the men around him, “Starving and undisciplined!”

He pauses for a second, heart pounding with the heady sensation of power as he prepares to do what his dear older brother cannot – punish. Too long have the streets of King’s Landing, of his city gone to the Seven Hells; controlled by crime and near-anarchy when they should be controlled by him, by the dread of his authority.

“Now, you’re a pack of hounds,” his voice rises as he speaks, as he breathes life into his men, “You’re sated and honed for the hunt!”

Howls erupt around the hall, making the prince’s lips stretch into a vicious grin – his men were ready, ready to rule with the iron fist Viserys lacked.

“My brother’s city has fallen into squalor!” He says, pacing down the room, “Crime of every breed has been allowed to thrive!”

His chainmail clinks with each of his heavy steps, pride swelling in his chest as many of the soldiers nod their heads along with him. It was true, after all, everyone knew it. Viserys may have the crown, the damned throne, but the dragonfire in his veins had run cold long ago. The blood in Daemon’s burns hot, however; centuries of power and glory fuel his fires, flowing through him like the lava in the Dragonmont.

“No longer,” he grunts, pausing at the end of the hall, the silken cloth draped over his shoulders shining in the light of the torches lining the room as he turns to eye his men, smirking at the blood lust evident on their faces, “Beginning tonight, King’s Landing will learn to fear the color gold!”

A loud bang wakes you sometime later and you sit up with a small gasp, clutching the linen bed sheets. Whipping your head around, you can see the dark night sky still looms heavily over the city through the slats in the window – you must’ve not been asleep very long.

Another cry from somewhere outside finally gets you moving and you quickly wrap yourself in an embroidered silk robe, tying it loosely around your waist as you move closer to the door, your ears perked at the sound of frantic whispers. Poking your head through the beaded curtain that separates the sleeping quarters from one of the hallways, you finally spot a familiar face in the dim candlelight.

“Genna!” You whisper, waving one of the other working girls over, “What’s going on, what’s happened?”

“Gold Cloaks!” She hisses, working quickly to stuff an armful of dresses into a small bag, “They’ve gone mad, they’re rounding up damn near everyone out there!”

“Gone mad?” You echo, brows pinching together as you look toward the entrance, another muffled cry from outside catching your attention, along with the sounds of metal clanging against metal.

Genna merely nods as she practically shoves past you to get into the room before quickly loading her bag with various perfumes, oils, and loose jewelry from one of the vanities, “One of the regulars came by, woke everyone up,” she explains as she quickly ties the bag off, “They’re taking in anyone who’s so much as nicked an apple from the market.”

Your eyes go wide at her words, head ringing as blood rushes to your cheeks. Thankfully, she seems too busy to notice you glance warily at your bed, knowing your lockbox with weeks worth of lifted coins is tucked neatly below it.

“I’m telling you, if you’ve pocketed even one extra groat, you’re as good as dead,” She shakes her head as she slings her bag over one shoulder, “Get out while you can, yeah? I think they’re a ways away st–”

A deafening crash from the front of the building cuts her off, the both of you shrieking. Your heart pounds in your chest at the sound of men’s voices; yours and Genna’s heads swivel to face one another at the same time before you both glance at the large wardrobe in the corner of the room – big enough for someone to climb inside of.

It seems you both have the same idea at the same time, each of you scrambling toward the cupboard. She’s a second behind you, though, her hefty bag slowing her by an instant and she yelps as you pull the wooden doors closed, pinching one of her fingers. You push yourself as far back in the cramped space as you can, trying to tuck yourself behind the hanging coats and dresses.

Finally, you stay as still as possible, chest heaving as your back presses into the wood behind you. You hear a muffled curse from Genna before she shrieks as heavy footsteps flood into the room.

“Shut it, whore!” A guard yells and the sound of a harsh slap makes you cover your mouth with a hand.

“Careful!” A different voice shouts as more heavy footsteps sound outside, “She’s a woman, not a shadowcat,” the new voice admonished, “Take her outside with the others, then go ahead and take the wagons to the dungeons below the Keep. No harm is to come to any of them, understood?”

“But the Commander sai–”

“I don’t give a shit what the Commander said,” the man all but growled, “I am your superior still, soldier, you take orders from me; I’ll worry about him. The night’s gotten out of hand as it is.”

“Yes, Captain,” the first man grumbles after a second. Heavy footsteps sound for an instant before Genna shrieks again, “I said shut it, whore!” The man’s voice is a bit muffled this time, further away.

“Tell the Commander I’m searching in here!” The second voice calls out gruffly; silently, you curse.

You hold yourself as still as possible as the muffled sounds of opening drawers and cabinets sound from outside the wardrobe, slowly but surely getting closer to you. Your heart leaps into your throat as the wardrobe doors are tugged open, yet you hold yourself still and squeeze your eyes closed, a naïve part of you hoping the soldier would just overlook you.

Of course that doesn’t happen.

“I do see you, you know,” the gruff voice sighs, his eyes on you, “Come on, out,” he commands.

Finally, you open your eyes and peek at him through gaps of fabric, warily taking in his appearance. Your eyes widen at his size, truly a mountain of a man, with curly dark hair and matching dark eyes, clad in metal plate armor with a familiar golden cloak around his shoulders. The look in his eyes is neutral, if not sympathetic, but you still don’t move, rooted to the spot.

With another sigh, he shakes his head at you and beckons you forward with a wave of his hand, “Please make this easy.”

When you still don’t move after a few more seconds, the man grumbles and reaches in, shoving past various articles of clothing until he grabs at your forearm and pulls you, stumbling, from the wardrobe.

“Let me go!” You cry, struggling in his grasp like a fish on a line, “Let me go, damn you! I haven’t done anything!” You shriek loudly, uselessly kicking your feet as he holds you steady at arms length.

“Easy!” The dark-haired man shouts over your screeches, “If you’ll just calm–”

“What’s this?” Another voice questions from the doorway, making both of you pause. Your eyes widen when you see the man, dressed in the same gold cloaked armor as the one holding you, though this one has purple eyes and pale white hair cascading over his shoulders, complete with a familiar face you’d seen before in the shadowy corners of the brothel, “Is that her?”

Her? You balk, glancing between the two men, They were looking for me?

The brunette stays silent for a moment, bushy brows furrowed together as he looks between you and the prince, brown eyes meeting two sets of purple, “She’s not… one of his, is she?” He asks quietly, only confusing you more.

Prince Daemon merely chuckles and shakes his head as he traipses toward you with a smirk. “Ohh, no, definitely not,” he mutters, squeezing your cheeks in one large, gloved hand as he forces your face to lift up toward his, “No, my dearest brother would never dare betray his wife so.”

He tilts your head from side to side, studying your face carefully, before making you face him once again as the other guard keeps hold of your arm, “What’s your name, girl?”

You glance between the men, caged in between their large frames, before finally telling them, each syllable merely a whisper on your lips.

The prince repeats it with a smug smile, the sound of your name on his tongue makes your head spin. “Ah, see, just as I thought,” he smirks, a pleased twinkle in his violet eyes, “A Lyseni whore.”

The other man merely grunts, though you don’t miss the way his dark brown eyes flit over your form appreciatively. Daemon moseys around the room, eyes scanning over the row of matching twin beds lined against one wall. “Which is yours?”

“I… I don’t sleep in here, my pr–”

“Lying won’t do you any good, you know,” he smirks, “We’ve had eyes and ears all over the city for months, including here. So, I’ll ask again. Which bed?”

You hesitate, only for a moment, before nodding at the bed to the far right. Your mind reels as Daemon begins his search, Someone was spying in here? One of the other girls?

“Aha!” He says after only a moment and your heart sinks as he pulls your small wooden lockbox out from its hiding spot. He drops it down onto your bed with a gloating smirk and you glance up just in time to see one of the prince’s pale hands reaching for the key at your neck, easily tugging it off the chain as you gasp and jerk once more in the other man’s grasp. “That was a gift from my father!”

“Daemon, please,” the other man sighs tiredly, scrambling to hold you in place once more, “Was that truly necessary?”

“Don’t start with me, Strong,” the prince huffs, moving to unlock the box, “You’ve spoiled my night of fun enough as is.” A low whistle sounds from his lips as he flips open the lid, quickly shuffling through the various coins, small pieces of jewelry, and other trinkets you’ve managed to swipe.

“Seems we got the right one after all,” the man holding your arm, the one apparently called Strong, murmurs, nodding toward you.

“Of course we got the right bloody one,” Daemon scoffs, violet eyes rolling in his head, “I only know of two Lyseni whores in this city and it certainly isn’t the other one.”

“Mysaria!” You whisper lowly, eyes widening as puzzle pieces begin clicking together in your mind.

The prince merely laughs, looking between you and the other knight as if you’ve just told some hilarious joke. “Finally figured it out, eh?” He teases, sauntering over to where you’re still being held.

As soon as he’s in reach, the guard holding you grabs your other arm as well, holding them both behind your back as if you’d be stupid enough to try anything against two Gold Cloaks. Even if you did manage to free yourself, what would be the point in running now?

“Seems we have a clever whore on our hands, Strong,” Daemon drawls, grinning when you flinch as he grips your jaw, forcing your eyes to meet his once more, “And a pretty one too. You must earn enough to pay your keep, no? A little exotic flower like you is bound to get plucked at often enough.”

You wait for him to continue speaking but he doesn’t, he simply waits, eyes boring into you as if he’s trying to read your thoughts. For all you know, he can – you’ve heard whispers around King’s Landing of how the Targaryens were supposedly closer to Gods than men.

“I suppose so, my prince,” you all but squeak a moment later, unable to bear the intense silence any longer.

“Then tell me,” you gasp as he suddenly turns your head, directing your gaze toward the small wooden lockbox strewn open on your bed, “Why does a well paid whore need to steal? Hm?”

“I wasn’t stealing for me!” You blurt, chest heaving.

“Then why do it?” You startle slightly as the knight behind you speaks, his grip on your wrists loosening enough for you to relax some in his grasp. For someone so gruff and intimidating, there was a distinctive warmth to his voice – a soft, kind lilt.

With a sigh, you glance between the two men before speaking, “I send it back to my family, once every other moon or so.”

“You send money to your family,” Daemon echos, purple eyes narrowed suspiciously, “In Lys, I presume?”

You simply nod, your eyes downcast as the men share a look over your head.

“Why do you need to send them money?” The Strong guard asks as he releases your arms, brown eyes watching you closely.

“My father was a merchant,” you begin, nervously fiddling with the tie on your robe, “He would travel to Volantis a few times a year to buy the more exotic goods shipped in from cities further east, from the other side of Slaver’s Bay, to bring back to sell in Lys. He could get a better price for them at home, Westerosi ships rarely go any further than our ports and they were willing to pay more.”

“And then, one time he left for Volantis and… never came back,” you continue, your voice only a raspy whisper as the back of your throat tightens, “We received word some months later that there had been a slave rebellion in the city and that my father had been killed in it. So, now I send money back so that my mother and siblings are able to pay for our house, because in Lys, if you can no longer afford your land you –”

“You risk becoming a slave yourself,” the brunette knight finishes, sighing sympathetically when you nod.

“How very touching,” the prince mutters, though you can see pity clouding his eyes as well.

“Perhaps we should just let her go,” the Strong guard says after a moment, making you whip your head toward him in shock, “She isn’t a danger to anyone.”

“She may not be,” Daemon says, crossing his arms over his broad chest, “But a drunken, disgruntled lord who’s discovered his gold missing certainly is.”

The brown haired man hums thoughtfully at his reasoning and both of them eye you for a moment, silence falling over the room.

Shifting your weight from foot to foot, you silently reason that you have two options – convince them to free you or wind up in a cell beneath the Red Keep. Being locked away simply isn’t an option, not for you, as that would mean being unable to send money to your family and although petty theft doesn’t carry the penalty of death, you know that if anything were to happen to them, you’d wish it did.

Gathering your courage, you look between the two men, eyeing them up and down. “Perhaps,” you start, loosening the tie on your robe just enough to bare your cleavage just a bit more, “I could convince you that I’m worth much more as a free woman?”

“Little minx,” the prince rasps, stepping toward you and grasping at your jaw once more, “Maybe you’ll prove useful after all,” he says cryptically.

Before you have time to dwell on his words, he releases you and busies himself with quickly unbuckling his plate armor, letting the chest and torso pieces noisily clank on the floor as they fall against a pile of gold cloth.

You gasp as Daemon grabs you by the hips and pulls you to him, pressing himself against you tightly as his rough hands roam over your soft curves. You can’t help but giggle as an appreciative grunt leaves his lips, violet eyes darkening as they meet yours.

“Daemon,” the other guard starts with a sigh, hand resting on the pommel of his sword.

“Come, ser Strong,” the prince growls, hastily turning you to face the brown eyed man. Your teeth dig into your bottom lip as you look him up and down, the corners of your lips quirking up into a small smile when you see the flush on his cheeks, “It would be rude to turn down what our little mouse is so generously offering, hm?” The feel of Daemon’s hands on your body makes your eyes flutter closed for just a second, only to snap back open when he roughly grabs at your breasts just as his teeth press against the column of your throat, eliciting a soft cry from you.

“O-Oh!”

“See? Listen to that,” Daemon says, words muffled against your skin, “She likes it, don’t you?”

You quickly nod your head yes, head clouded by the feel of the prince’s length as it presses against the small of your back, hard enough to be felt through the trousers they wear under their armor. He chuckles as he suddenly cups your center, the silky fabric of your robe pressing against your already aching flesh, and nips at your neck once more before releasing you.

“Go,” he murmurs, giving you a gentle push toward the other knight, “Make the stubborn bore more comfortable.”

Biting your lip, you approach the man with a little grin. Standing before him, you move your hand to his shoulder, to the buckles of his plate armor.

“Is this okay?”

All he gives you is a curt nod, but it’s enough for you. With another reassuring smile, you pull at the leather buckles, unstrapping them one by one until he grabs at his chest plate and sets it on the floor, more gentle with it than Daemon had been.

Pausing for a second, you cock your head to the side curiously. “I know him,” you say with a nearly bashful smile, nodding your head at the prince, “But what do I call you, Ser?”

“Harwin, my lady. Just Harwin.”

Still sensing hesitance from him, you decide to be bold and gently take one of his hands and place it on one of your breasts, peering up into his deep brown eyes all the while. Your lips turn up into a pleased smile at the low groan that rumbles from his chest and you marvel at how warm his touch is through your robe, though before you have time to linger on it further, Harwin surges forward and presses his lips against yours.

You still for a second, not having expected such boldness from a man who had held so much back thus far. Getting your wits about you, you quickly respond in kind and move your lips with his, leaning into him a bit more as you grab at his shoulders. A pleased hum leaves your lips as his hands begin exploring you, seeming to grab and knead at any bits of you he can like he’s been starved for touch for years.

He groans into the kiss once more when you nip at his bottom lip, prompting him to slip his tongue into your mouth, which earns a small whimper from you as one of your hands slips down from his shoulder to rest on his toned, muscular chest.

The sudden feel of another presence at your back makes you jump slightly – you’d gotten so wrapped up in Harwin that you’d nearly forgotten that Daemon was still in the room, though the knowledge that he’d been watching the two of you sends an excited zing up your spine.

“Oh!” You gasp as he begins nipping and biting at your neck once more, soothing the marks he leaves behind with his tongue. Your lips move against Harwin’s as another pair of hands begins exploring you, impatiently tugging at the tie around your waist until your robe falls open. A whine leaves you as the knight’s hands immediately cup your bare breasts, kneading them and savoring the way your soft skin feels against his palms. At the same time, Daemon nearly growls as he presses himself against your ass, grinding his length against you as his hands grip at your hips and waist.

“I believe you said something about convincing us?” He mutters against your neck, grinning when you pull away from Harwin and meet his gaze as you turn to look over your shoulder, brow raising when you see he’d taken the time to strip off his tunic at some point.

“Quite right, my prince,” you grin, looking between the two men once more before slipping off your robe, leaving you bare as it pools on the floor. Your cheeks flush at their appreciative groans, skin prickling at the way you can practically feel their eyes on you.

With another little breath, you lower yourself to your knees between them and immediately skim your hands over their strong thighs. Ever eager, Daemon quickly unties his trousers, a predatory gleam in his purple eyes as he frees his hardening length.

You bite your bottom lip at the sight of it and quickly reach up to wrap a hand around it, marveling at the way it hardens steadily under your touch. “I think you’ll find I can be very persuasive,” you murmur, softly licking over the tip before sealing your lips around it and suckling gently while you gaze up at him, batting your lashes enticingly.

“Fuck,” he breathes, long fingers threading into your hair as his head tips back. You grin around him, bobbing your head while you stroke over the rest of his length with a hand, laving your tongue over the head.

Not forgetting about Harwin, you shift your gaze to him as your other hand palms his length where it presses against the rough fabric of his trousers, already hard and wanting. That seems to be the final straw for him and he scrambles to undo the ties, brown eyes glued to where your lips are wrapped around the prince’s hard cock.

Your eyes widen when his length finally springs free and you let Daemon slip from your lips as your mouth falls open. “Seven Hells,” you murmur, watching as Harwin strokes a hand over his cock, a proud smirk on his lips.

“Well now, that must be where your damn stubborn attitude comes from, Strong,” the prince teases, chest heaving as you continue stroking a hand over his length.

Unable to resist, you brush the knight’s hand away before grasping his cock in your own, heart skipping a beat as your fingers hardly touch around the girth of it. You lean over and lick up the length of him, from the base to the very tip, before taking him into your mouth, bobbing your head in the same way you did with Daemon.

It takes a few moments, but eventually you settle into a good rhythm – stroking one man’s member with your hand while you suck and lick at the others, swapping every few moments or when one of them gets impatient enough to tug you over by the hair.

It’s easy to lose yourself in the cacophonous sounds of grunts and growls above you, at the way each man’s fingers thread into your hair differently. Daemon’s grip is much rougher, more commanding, as he drags you exactly where he wants, pushing and pulling your head along his cock in an exacting rhythm.

Harwin, on the other hand, is more gentle — his tugs seeming more like suggestions than commands. Unlike the prince, he strokes over your hair gently as you attend to him, letting you set your own pace. Anytime your eyes meet his, he looks at you with awe almost, hairy chest heaving as his hips twitch, holding himself back from fucking your face in the way he wants.

Daemon has no such qualms, hasn’t the patience to resist tugging at your hair as he presses your mouth lower and lower down his cock, relishing the way you choke and sputter. His violet, half-lidded gaze sends shivers through you each time your eyes meet, the look in his eyes echoing the fierce dragon’s blood flowing in his veins.

Surprisingly, it’s Harwin that breaks first, tossing back his head with a low groan after some minutes and pulling you off of his cock.

“What—?” You scarcely get the word out before his lips are on yours once again, tongue licking into your mouth.

“Need you,” he mumbles simply, glaring as Daemon snickers behind your back. “Please,” he breathes, voice softer this time.

“You needn’t ask,” Daemon drawls, pressing himself against your side as his hands paw at your breasts, pinching and pulling at your nipples and chuckling at the way you whine, “She’s a whore.”

You roll your eyes playfully at the remark and grab Harwin’s hand, leading him toward one of the bigger rooms of the brothel. “That may be true, but perhaps I like a man with some decorum, my prince,” you call over your shoulder, chuckling as Daemon follows hot on your heels.

You lead the men to one of the fancier rooms, one laden with imported ornate rugs and silken lamps that give it a warm red glow, complete with a giant circular daybed with plenty of room for all three of you. After all, if the brothel is empty, why not take advantage of it?

Putting on your very best show, you push at Harwin’s hairy chest until he sits back on the edge of the bed before walking over to him with a sly smirk, hips swaying enticingly. A chuckle leaves your lips when his eyes widen as you climb on his lap, your thighs bracketing his.

“Is this ok –” His lips are on yours before you can finish the question; the both of you move a bit more desperately now, though his touches are no less attentive as his hands skim over your waist and up your back.

Suddenly, you’re tugged away from Harwin’s lips with a little gasp as one of Daemon’s hands laces through the hair at the crown of your head, drawing you back until your spine is arched.

“Forgetting someone?” He teases, lightly wrapping his other hand around your neck in a way that sends pleasant tingles down to your already aching center. You shake your head no, teeth biting into your bottom lip as Harwin’s cock twitches between your legs.

“Never, my prince,” you murmur, smiling into the kiss as Daemon presses his lips against yours. His movements are more urgent than Harwin’s and it soon dissolves into a battle of teeth and tongues; you mewl into his mouth when the hand around your neck slides down your chest and palms eagerly at one of your breasts.

Though they’re closed, your eyes roll back as Harwin leans forward and begins mouthing at the side of your neck, his wavy hair tickling your shoulder. Soon enough, both men are pawing greedily at your chest, making your head spin – both of their touches are so different: where Daemon is rough, pinching at your nipple until you gasp and whine into his kiss, Harwin is gentle and uses his thumb to tease at the other until he feels you shivering on his lap.

The knight surprises you once more when his touch skirts down over your stomach before his fingers run through your folds, making you jerk from Daemon’s grasp with a moan. Your cheeks flush slightly at the sight of the little victorious grin on Harwin’s face as he expertly circles your pearl, watching closely at the way his touch makes you squirm and grind down against his hard length.

“That’s it,” he husks, grunting as your grasp tightens on his shoulders, nails digging into his lightly tanned skin, “Need to warm you up, don’t I?”

Beside you, Daemon scoffs as he stands straight once more, fingers still threaded through your hair. “Please,” he huffs, sliding closer to where you sit on the knight’s lap, until his length is practically brushing against your cheek, “Whores don’t need warming, Strong. You may as well take her.”

Before you have time to so much as register the jab, Harwin slips a thick finger inside you in the same instance that Daemon manhandles his cock into your waiting mouth, muffling your whimpers. Both men growl as they take you, the knight’s finger fucking easily into your wet channel as the prince’s length slides against your tongue once more.

You can hardly do more than ragdoll in their grasp, mewling while Harwin fingers you open, adding a second digit after a moment and crooking them in a way that makes your hips rut eagerly into his touch while Daemon takes from you as he pleases, fucking into your throat with loud growls and grunts.

Below you, Harwin groans as he easily presses a third finger into your heat, watching you carefully as he does and smirking when you show no signs of discomfort. “Think you’re ready for me,” he murmurs, chuckling when you nod your head as best as you can. As desperate as you are to be filled properly, you can’t help but let out a little petulant whine as he pulls his fingers from you.

“Patience,” he grunts, shifting you on his lap enough to reach between your bodies and fist his length, grinning at the way you squirm eagerly as he runs the head through your slick folds. His chest reverberates under your palms when he growls as he finally grabs at your hips and pulls you down steadily over his thick cock, half-lidded eyes staring down at where you both connect, “Fuck, there you go.”

You pull away from Daemon with a loud gasp, sucking in a lungful of air, chest heaving as your walls pulse around the knight, savoring the way his stretches you open. “Gods!” You cry, wriggling in his hold as you grind against him, your hips moving of their own accord.

Daemon huffs, annoyed, and tries dragging you back onto his cock a few times to no avail, quickly becoming irritated at the way you mindlessly clench your jaw closed each time Harwin’s cock presses against the sensitive spot within you.

“Poor little whore,” the prince sighs exasperatedly, once again tugging your head back until your eyes meet his, “Too distracted, hm?”

You open your lips to reply, only to gasp dazedly as Harwin thrusts up into you from below, muscular thighs flexing under your own. “Give her a moment,” he grunts, gripping your hips to guide you over his length.

The prince merely tsks, pulling at your hair again until your eyes pop open; a shiver goes through you at the smirk that graces his lips, as if he knows something you don’t. “Tell me,” he starts, carding his long fingers through your hair, “Have you ever taken two cocks at once?”

“N – fuck!” You gasp, eyes rolling back briefly as Harwin ruts up into you quickly, evidently excited by the idea, “N-No.”

“Hmm,” Daemon hums, smirk only widening, “Then I know just the way to get your attention.”

He moves away from you quickly, letting your head flop back uselessly as he walks swiftly to a small cabinet in the corner of the room where the Madam keeps a small stock of massage oils and lotions. You straighten just in time to watch as he stalks back over to you and Harwin, a vial of oil in hand. “I trust you have at least some experience with this, yes?” He questions, letting out a pleased hum when you nod.

The two men share a look between them and you mewl as Harwin lays back against the day bed, pulling you with him until you’re lying against his chest, making you gasp as the change in angle presses his length squarely against the most sensitive spot within you.

“Hold her steady,” Daemon murmurs behind you, uncorking the little bottle of oil.

The knight grunts when you tighten around him and one of his hands abandons its hold on your hip to cup one of your cheeks, his touch surprisingly delicate for a man of his stature. “Excited?” He questions, brown eyes studying your face carefully.

Any reply dies on your lips in lieu of an eager gasp when you feel the prince’s presence behind you, his hips nearly touching your rear as he slots himself between Harwin’s legs. Still, you nod your head earnestly, sending pearlescent hair cascading over your shoulders to pool on the knight’s chest.

Harwin’s chest rumbles with a satisfied hum, though you’re left gasping at the feel of one of Daemon’s hands deftly parting your arse cheeks, swiftly followed by massage oil being drizzled between them, filling the room with the scent of lavender. When you jolt slightly at the feel of a finger skirting over your entrance, the prince is quick to reprimand you with a sharp slap to the rear, leaving your skin tingling in its wake.

“You’re going to be good for us?” Harwin questions, drawing your attention back to him as he smooths a thumb over your cheekbone.

“Y-Yes, yes,” you nod listlessly, breaths staggered as Daemon fingers you open, expertly preparing you. Again, you earn a pleased hum from the man below you.

The next few moments pass in a blur – your head spins as the prince readies you and Harwin placates you all the while with gentle caresses and kisses, even snaking a hand between your bodies to rub at your aching pearl.

Finally, Daemon seems satisfied and pulls his fingers from you before slotting himself against you, quickly slicking up his cock with more of the oil before pressing the head against your opening, grinning smugly when you press back against him.

“Fuck, there we go,” he rasps, carefully sliding his length into you until his hips meet your backside.

A high, whining keen is pulled from your lungs at the stretch, tingles shooting up your spine and making you shudder at the feel of being this filled. You can do little more but gasp, pinned between two muscular bodies, as the men start to move. The feel of it is like none other, a constant push and pull as they thrust in and out of you in tandem.

“G-Gods, fuck!” You finally cry, managing to suck in a lungful of air as your nails dig into Harwin’s chest.

The knight beneath you isn’t faring much better than you are, a near constant stream of deep grunts and groans leaving his lips as he feels you tighten on his cock. “By the Seven, you feel divine,” he mumbles, making you cry out as he pulls you to him, strong hands encircling your waist as he mouths at your shoulder, biting at your skin.

Above you, Daemon’s violet eyes remain fixed on your ass, savoring the way it bounces each time his hips smack against it, watching as his length spears into you again and again. “What a good little whore,” he grunts, words short and clipped as he clenches his jaw. A stuttered moan is pulled from you as he grabs at your backside, fingers do doubt leaving bruises in their wake as he gropes you, “Taking us so well.”

Your muscles tense at the praise as your high threatens to overwhelm you, looming in a small pit in your belly that’s growing bigger and bigger with each passing second. Your walls tighten around Harwin again, making him hiss beneath you.

“Gonna, Gods, I –” you cry, eyes squeezing shut as the knight bullies the sensitive spot within you, pounding against it with each rough thrust, making your words die on your tongue.

Thankfully, Harwin understands perfectly, balancing on that thin precipice himself – the cacophonous litany of your moans and whines along with the lewd, wet sounds of their cocks plunging into you again and again only serving to push him further to his own end.

“That’s it,” the knight rasps, grabbing your chin with one hand and directing your attention toward him once more, “Go on, peak, let me feel it.”

His command, along with another hard smack to your rear from Daemon, send you hurtling over the edge with a sharp, loud cry. You lose all sense between them, muscles clenching and relaxing rhythmically as your whole body seems to erupt into flame.

The gorgeous look on your face, along with the steady pulse of your walls around him, finish Harwin as well. A deep groan, complementary to your own high-pitched whines, is all but punched from his chest as his length twitches within you, painting your walls with his spend.

As your peak slowly settles, like waves receding at low tide, you’re left gasping, clinging to Harwin as Daemon still thrusts wildly into you, chasing his own high. Desperate to feel you clench around him once more, the prince reaches around, over your hip, and his greedy fingers quickly find your bud.

“Oh!” You gasp, squirming in the knight’s grasp as the prince’s fingers roughly rub against your pearl, forcibly dragging you right back to the edge you’d just fallen from.

“Come on,” Daemon grunts, tugging you up by the shoulder until your back presses against his chest, deep, vicious grunts filling your ear, “One more, little whore, fucking do it for me.”

You scramble in his hold, lips parting in a silent cry as your muscles jerk in sharp, uncoordinated movements. Unable to extract yourself from his hold, the overstimulation finally gives way to blinding pleasure once more and you peak with a loud, piercing yelp.

Daemon grunts behind you, pleased, as your walls all but force a high from him as well. He thrusts into you a few more times, groaning at the feel of your slick coating his fingers and pooling between your bodies. Finally, he lets go, grumbling low words in a language you don’t understand as he fills you.

The only sounds in the near empty brothel is the sound of staggered pants as the three of you catch your breaths, content to do little more than lie in a heap for a few moments.

It’s Daemon that moves first, pulling himself from you with a muted grunt before swaggering over to a small vanity, pulling up and tying his trousers as he goes.

Harwin soothes you with gentle touches as he pulls away, keenly aware of the way you wince at certain movements, overly sensitive now. “Are you okay?” He asks, voice gentler now as he surveys your body, “Nothing hurts?”

You can’t help but chuckle at his concern, so unused to men caring for you once they finish. “I’m fine, I assure you,” your lips quirk into a smile as you soothe his worries, a little sigh leaving your lips as you settle back against the silken sheets that cover the daybed.

“Here,” Daemon grunts with indifference as he tosses a clean cloth at you, more than familiar with the layout of the place, “To clean yourself.”

You huff softly and roll your eyes playfully before grabbing the small towel and standing to wipe spend and extra oil from your skin, making a mental note to heat water for a proper bath as soon as the men leave.

It’s then that it occurs to you that they may not let you stay, what if even this wasn’t enough to secure your freedom, to get them to overlook your transgressions?

“So,” you start, discarding the cloth in a laundry basket by the vanity before turning and facing the men, surprised to find Harwin’s eyes already on you, “Forgive and forget, yes? The debt has been paid, etcetera?”

They share a look as they dress themselves, Daemon loosely pulling on his armor, opting to tuck most of it beneath an arm, though Harwin takes the time to fasten his properly.

“Oh, I think you’ve more than convinced us to spare you, little minx,” the prince drawls, eyes roving over your still nude form as he approaches you and takes your chin between two long fingers, “As for your debt, well…”

You grin as he trails off, two pairs of purple eyes sliding over to Harwin.

“There’s still the interest to consider,” he murmurs with a little chuckle, dark eyes sparkling with mirth.

thank you for taking the time to read! hope you enjoyed! :)

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l3monlem0n · 2 months

Text

Some Murder Drones Episode 7 screenshots I thought were interesting and my thoughts on them :>

SPOILER WARNING!!!! is spoilering

Nori, despite being a middle aged woman with a child, appears to be an Otaku or otherwise likes "edgy" and "scene" stuff, as well as listening to nightcore, very much like her daughter. Good for her tbh you're never too old to have fun

She also has a photo of Khan and what I can only assume is baby Uzi, though it appears to have blue eyes, but maybe it's just the lighting. Still very cute she has a pic of her husband

As well as all the previously mentioned Otaku stuff, she also drew herself as an anime character. She has a skinsona. Phenomenal (pos)

Nothing much here, just Uzi coughing up blood. Girl got the goop (gore) inside of her already

Lab Space. Apparently the Church was just down there and not even the humans know why. The canonicity of this is questionable; it could just be a joke

OT, as per google, stands for "Occupational Therapy". Makes sense for the context, and makes the bottom text funnier

"Fun Time To Universe Big Crunch: 87". The Big Crunch is a hypothetical way the Universe could end, where the universe folds on itself and shrinks into a single point. 87 "what" I don't know. If it's months, that 7 years and 3 months

Honestly the Murder Drones lore is super confusing. I think what this is trying to say is that every other Zombie Drone is doing poorly, (Except for Yeva), they are trying to reactivate 002 (Nori) via the USB. I'm not sure what this means. Maybe they only got the results they wanted from the two of them, and are trying again with Nori since she was the only other one that worked (also why they got Yeva when she failed; this may all be referring to how the episode opened up) Also, the date says SER. As revealed in the episode Cabin Fever, Copper-9 has months that Earth does not. SER most likely stands for Seramorris, the month revealed in that episode

Looks like the "bad event" wasn't the first one. Certainly was the last one though lol

Just a good pic of ghost/hologram V with the scary stuff. Might use this as a wallpaper

You can literally see the hole in his neck where N bit him in...

...And it's to the point his HEAD FALLS OFF. (including because I didn't notice the first time around)

Yup, the idea that Uzi became the Admin for N and V is completely true. I wonder what would've happened if she didn't, since Cyn didn't react whatsoever

friggin bug (very pos)

You would not believe how difficult it was to get a good pic of this (I'm using snipping tool lmao). Always a pleasure to see Uzi's doodles. Things her gun can do (upper right):

NOT judge her

Forced prom date (?)

Allows her to say she had friends before she frickin murdered them with sci-fi machinery

The cut off text at the bottom: Plan B: Normal gun + Shoot really fast

This is while Tessa is looking for something in the lockers. Claws, chains, magnets, Wings, and scribbled "HELP". Looks like the lockers were all specifically to hold the infected worker drones. Oof

We are in the future now baby. We have rererererereCAPTCHA. Funnily enough, it still couldn't stop a robot

There is a message board where someone who doesn't like robots is talking. They also are scared. Also no one else is using this system, which is unsurprising. "Ur aight ;)" Wait is the winky face intentional foreshadowing? Or unintentional?

We get the names of a bunch of other Worker Drones. Unfortunately for all 029 fans, her name was not visible. (also can someone tell me what "JWEB" could be short for?) And Yeva is said to have a patch. That may be the crucible thing idk

Cyn (which I will be calling this version Skyn [Skin + Cyn]) apparently took of the space suit just to give Doll the Withered Foxy jumpscare. Honestly really terrifying. If this photo was teased before release I think the fandom would've exploded

Just N being a good boy :3

The MDs, Cyn's pets. Nori refers to them as "Nerfed" so the "Entity" can ensure control, and says they were made to destroy other hosts. I don't know why Cyn would want them dead, but I'm not the loremaster here. YouTube line is there because I couldn't be bothered after the Railgun image

Probably already confirmed, but doubly confirmed that a symptom of the Solver is giving Drones organic insides. A Worker Drone body with a rib cage and guts. I wonder what would happen if the infection continued uninterrupted (also R.I.P. Doll I loved you :frown:)

I'm sure everyone noticed, but when Uzi tried to manipulate Tessa, the ERROR noticed appeared. Already hinting Tessa is not all she says she is

Apparently the Solver can create Black Hole Saws. Interesting development (Blackhole Blitz)

I know most people (I think) see this as a joke and N just being a bit of goofball. But honestly, I think he did it intentionally to shock Cynuzi and give Nori a chance. In the Pilot, he licked V's sword to surprise her too, which means he isn't unfamiliar with doing something weird and surprising for the advantage

Skyn eating Doll's core. R.I.P. Doll again. Seriously, was that Doll in Core Form like Nori was? Or was Nori a fringe case because she was "Exorcised" and this is just a regular core? Questions, questions. Also yeah the Solver also gives you a Core. Fun

This tag makes me think that this body is Cyn's actual body. Not longer a hologram, but her actual body from the mansion. The reason Tessa gave N, J, and V their names was because that was the first letter of their Serial Designation (she's very uncreative). However, Cyn's tag was slightly faded, which meant her SD couldn't be seen, so Tessa gave her the name "Cyn" after her P/N, even though the other 3 already have the same P/N as Cyn (Tessa, again, is very uncreative)...

...and for some reason, Cyn or the Solver, which ever theory you subscribe to, decided to wear Tessa as a skin suit for some twisted reason. It did help her with the Captcha. Also scary because this doesn't have the right proportions for an adult (unless Cyn really forced that skin on), which leads me to believe that this is a Younger Tessa, and she faked having an older voice. Maybe I shouldn't call her my wife... I'm sure Eldritch J is still available :^)

(Seriously, the eyes are burnt out, leaving two eye holes over the visor, so she gives herself two X eyes so it looks better. Also yeah we found out what that thing on the "It Came From Copper-9" poster came from. It really was Cyn or Skyn)

Just a frame of the final...frame... for coolness. I'm probably also going to use this for a background. Also, this is definitely Copper-9. You can see the ring and ringless moon together on the right. Uzi somehow got sent to orbit after falling in the meat hole

Well that was all for now. This series has consumed me entirely, body and soul, and I wouldn't have it any other way. Goodbye and goodnight

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roosterforme · 11 months

Text

The Birthday Blues | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley loves celebrating your birthday. It's his favorite day of the year. But you're almost too upset to celebrate, and you don't seem to want to tell him why.

Warnings: Angst, fluff, smut, swears, mentions of trying to get pregnant

Length: 2800 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

"Roo?" you mumbled when you thought you felt your husband touching you. Was it morning? Or were you still asleep? You must be having a dream, because you felt good. No, you felt fucking great.

"Happy birthday, Baby Girl."

You cracked your eyes open, searching for the source of your pleasure, and then you saw that Bradley was nestled between your thighs, eating your pussy.

"Oh!" you gasped. That's why you felt like you were melting into a pool of pleasure. Because you actually were. You watched Bradley's head bob slightly as he licked long, languid stripes along your pussy. The early morning light was turning his messy bedhead hair a pretty copper color, and when you pushed your fingers through it, he kissed your thigh before returning to his task.

It was your birthday. You were thirty one. And you were pretty sure he wasn't going to stop until you came at least one time on his face. So you propped yourself up on one elbow to watch the show.

"Is this my birthday present?" you whispered as Bradley's mustache brushed against your clit.

"Just one of many," he rasped before kissing his way up and down your slit. When you were sufficiently moaning for him, he wrapped those pretty lips around your clit while you played with his hair.

Each little flick of his tongue had you gasping and asking for more. But he knew your body like the back of his hand, and he was drawing this out on purpose. Every time your voice got higher in pitch, he eased back the pressure until you calmed down. And then he started all over again.

"Roo!" you whined, practically riding his face as he held your hips down on the bed. "Let me cum! It's my birthday!"

The devilish look he gave you should have been enough warning, but a minute later, he was fucking you with two fingers and sucking your clit just right. When you felt the prickle of his mustache on your skin, your head tipped back against the pillow, and you felt yourself squeezing his thick fingers as you whined his name until you were laying in a limp, boneless pile.

Then you felt his warm body weight on your sensitive skin as he kissed your lips. His mustache was wet, and he let you lick his face clean.

"I need to be on base in thirty minutes," he rasped, making no move to leave you or the bed. "Fuck, why didn't we take today off? It's the most important day of the year."

"Because we burned through all of our vacation time for our honeymoon," you reminded him.

"It was worth it," he whispered next to your ear before he climbed out of bed. You watched Bradley step into his flight suit before he disappeared into the bathroom. You desperately wanted to coax him back to bed, but you also really wanted Bradley to leave for work.

He kissed your lips one more time and said, "Birthday dinner at seven. I'll let Tramp out before I leave. I love you, Baby Girl."

And once he was gone, you dashed out of bed and into the bathroom. You dug around in the closet for the pregnancy tests you bought yesterday after work.

"Come on," you whispered, pacing around the bathroom and bedroom after you peed on the sticks. This could potentially be the best birthday present of your life, even better than a birthday morning orgasm from Bradley.

When your timer went off and you checked the tests, tears of frustration filled your eyes. You tossed the tests into the trash and got dressed for work.

----------------------------

It was actually unfair. Finding yourself on the verge of crying at work on your birthday shouldn't have been happening. And now as you sat in your office, swiping tears away, you realized you were just angry at yourself for taking the pregnancy tests in the first place.

But you had been trying for two months. And you'd spent the last decade trying your damnedest not to get pregnant. And if you knew there might have been something wrong, you'd have stopped taking birth control months ago. Because you and Bradley had been having very frequent sex for weeks now, and you felt like you were disappointing yourself and him, too.

You closed your computer and carried it down the hallway to your lab where your newest coworker Cat seemed to be having a great day. She was laughing with your other labmates just like you would normally be doing, but you weren't feeling like yourself. So you just kept your head down and got your work done.

You knew you shouldn't have done it, but you texted Bradley and told him you were simply too busy to make it down to the cafeteria for lunch today.

Bradley Rooster Bradshaw <3 <3 <3: really? everyone wanted to see you. i wanted to see you...

And then you started crying again. Because the negative pregnancy test was getting to you so much, you were letting Bradley down even more.

--------------------------

"I think you should wear the dress you wore on our first date," Bradley crooned next to your ear as he wrapped his arms around you from behind. "You look so good in red."

You wiggled out of his grasp and finished unbuttoning your uniform shirt. As you removed your pins, you said, "Our first date was in the summer. It's too chilly out today."

Now he was looking at you like he was trying to figure out what he had done wrong. "I'll keep you warm. Or you can wear one of my sweatshirts over it if you want to. Or you can wear leggings and your oversized sweater. It's your birthday. And you're perfect. And you're going to look perfect."

But you really weren't perfect. You sighed and nodded at him. "I'll just throw on something casual. You said it doesn't matter what I wear."

You could tell he wanted you to wear that red dress. But you were feeling like punishing yourself for being in a bad mood on your own birthday. And you were bloated. Plus you'd gained a few pounds on the honeymoon and over the holidays. You'd look terrible in that dress right now. But Bradley just nodded his head once as you walked away from him. "Anything is fine, Baby Girl."

"Great," you muttered, pulling on the leggings and sweater. The car ride was painfully quiet, and as soon as he got on the highway, you knew where he was taking you. You bit your lip to keep the tears at bay.

"Did I piss you off today?" he asked as he parallel parked the Bronco in front of the hot sauce restaurant he'd taken you to on your first date.

"No," you whispered, closing your eyes against the tears you could once again feel. You were emotional because your period was starting, not because you were pregnant. And that thought was making more tears burn your eyes.

"Sweetheart, if you're not feeling it, we can go home," he assured you. "I won't be upset. I should have let you pick what you wanted to do today."

"No, it's fine, Roo. I love it here. You did good," you said, trying to infuse your voice with the excitement you usually felt when he surprised you with silly little things. Normally you would have been climbing across the seat to wrap your arms around him, excited that he brought you back here, but instead you climbed out your own door onto the sidewalk.

"Okay," he whispered a moment later, taking your hand in his larger one and kissing your fingers. "I'll let you order both meals and eat half of each one. I know you love doing that here." Bradley guided you inside as a smile found its way to your lips.

"I do love that," you told him. Soon you and he were sitting side by side in a booth, and he had his arm wrapped around your shoulders. You were pouring out little samples of various hot sauces onto your plate and tasting each one while Bradley sipped a beer. He helped you rank the bottles in order of deliciousness, and then you ate half of your meal and half of his.

"Let me buy you bottles of your top three draft picks," he joked, taking out his credit card to pay the bill and asking the waiter to add on a few bottles of the hot sauces you liked best.

"Thanks, Roo," you whispered, kissing his cheek. This wasn't so bad. You'd get over this sadness like you had last month. It would just take a few days, and you could blame it on your period.

Your husband took you by the hand, but instead of leading you back to the Bronco, he crossed the street with you. "Thought we could walk along the pier? For old time's sake?"

You looked up into his eager face in the dim glow of the streetlight. He just wanted to please you, just the same way you always wanted to please him. So you nodded and started out along the pier where you'd spent plenty of time getting to know him and making out with him so many months ago.

When you leaned against the railing and looked out at the dark water beyond, Bradley rested his chin on your shoulder and wrapped his arms around you. "Promised I'd keep you warm," he murmured next to your ear.

You smiled. "You should have put that in your wedding vows."

His soft sigh as he rubbed his hands along the front of your body made you feel a lot better. "I hope you enjoyed your birthday dinner. I wasn't joking, this really is the most important day of the year. My very favorite day of the year. Besides our anniversary."

"I love you even more than I love hot sauce."

The promise fell from your lips as he chuckled and said, "I hope you don't lose your taste for spicy food when you're pregnant."

The chilly night air started to seep through the fabric of your sweater everywhere that he wasn't touching you. Your face fell into a frown. The dark water no longer looked peaceful. Tears filled your eyes quickly, as if they had been right there at the surface, just waiting for another excuse to drip down your cheeks.

You tried your best to keep it together, but Bradley knew right away that something was wrong. He spun you in his arms until you were facing him. "Please, Baby Girl. Please tell me what's going on. If I made you upset, you need to tell-"

But you just shook your head and pushed him gently away from you, and Bradley looked like you had slapped him across the face. "I'm not pregnant, okay? I'm not. I took a pregnancy test this morning, because my period should have started today."

"Sweetheart, that doesn't matter. We have time-"

"Just stop it, alright?" you asked, wiping away your tears as he reached for you. "Please, just stop talking. Let's go home."

Bradley rubbed his hand along his lips and mustache before he nodded. When he held his hand out for yours, you didn't take it. Rather you just strolled back up the pier toward the street a few steps in front of him, continuously wiping your eyes with the backs of your hands.

When you reached the Bronco and went to climb in, Bradley jogged up behind you and buckled the seatbelt for you. He didn't try to kiss you, but he did run his thumb along your knuckles as he whispered, "Love you."

But you pressed your lips together against the pain in your heart instead of responding to him. And then he took you home in silence, not even bothering to choose a playlist to listen to.

Now you'd upset your husband by telling him the truth about what was bothering you. He probably thought you were insane, losing yourself like this for the second month in a row. Blaming yourself for not being pregnant yet when you knew, deep inside your mind, that you hadn't actually done anything wrong. But you felt the uncontrollable, hateful desire to blame yourself anyway.

You were still dabbing at your eyes with your sleeves when Bradley pulled into the driveway. He killed the engine and turned to face you, but you were out the door and heading for the front porch before he could get a single word in. After wrestling with your key for a moment, you shoved the door open and nudged Tramp to keep him inside. But when you turned the lamp on, you froze in place.

Your entire house, literally every surface you could see, was filled with yellow flowers. Tulips, roses, daffodils and zinnias. Everywhere. Just like he had done for you last year. You squeezed your eyes shut, but you could feel Bradley's presence behind you.

After you sucked in a breath, you peeked into the kitchen and saw more flowers along with pink champagne in the ice bucket next to a beautiful confetti cake. Music was playing softly through the small speaker you kept next to the sink, and you recognized the songs as ones from a playlist Bradley made for you when he had been deployed. Your breathing was getting ragged as you sobbed into your hands.

"I'm sorry," Bradley murmured. "I had Nat and Bob bring everything over to surprise you. Give me a couple minutes and I'll get it cleaned up."

"No," you gasped, crying harder. "It's perfect."

You looked up at him through your tears, and just shook your head. He was hesitating to touch you now, and you hated that. And a second later, you were stumbling forward into his arms.

"Don't clean it up," you whispered. "I love it."

You could feel him slowly wrap his arms around you as you buried your face against his chest and sobbed until you couldn't cry any longer. He just held you there while your head throbbed, gently rubbing your back and shoulders until you were done.

As you sucked in a deep breath, he whispered, "You know, you're not alone here, right? You're literally never alone, because I'm here, too."

You swallowed down your guilt and looked up at him. When you nodded he kissed the tip of your nose.

"I don't want to have to keep telling you every month that you're not the only one trying for a baby. I don't want you to keep thinking that. This is 50/50 here, Baby Girl. You and me."

"I'm sorry."

He kissed you hard on the lips, effectively silencing you before whispering, "You're not allowed to apologize on your birthday."

You smiled up at him, half laughing and half sobbing. "Fine. I won't then."

He pulled you flush against his body and you took his face in your hands as he said, "We've got plenty of time, Sweetheart."

You ran your thumb along his scars. "I just don't want to disappoint you."

"Never," he promised, his voice growing deep and raspy. "You could never."

"But-"

He kissed you hard again. "All you ever do is make my life better. I wouldn't lie to you about that."

Instead of trying to argue with him, you just nodded and let him kiss you until you were smiling. He was right. You had plenty of time to do everything you wanted to do together.

With Bradley's lips gliding along your forehead, you whispered, "Should we have some cake?"

A few minutes later, you were sitting on the piano bench next to him with Tramp in your arms, and Bradley played and sang Happy Birthday. He kissed you about a million times as he poured two glasses of champagne and sliced into your birthday cake. Then you stood in your kitchen which smelled like all of the floral arrangements, and he wrapped his arms around you from behind once more. You laughed every time he kissed your cheek and opened his mouth for some cake.

"Thanks, Roo," you whispered before you fed him a bite. You'd make sure he had his favorites for his birthday, lemon cake and beer. And maybe with a little luck, in a few months when he turned thirty seven, you would be skipping the beer in favor of something non-alcoholic.

"I hope you enjoyed the best day of the year," he murmured. And you realized that all the best parts were when you were with your husband, living in the moment instead of worry about what you couldn't control.

Later, when you were ready for bed and snuggling up on his chest, you told him, "You could never disappoint me, either."

---------------------------

Once again, this one hurts a little bit. Because this really happens. Don't beat yourself up, BG. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls.

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thehighladywrites · 5 months

Text

— “it’ll be our little secret, professor”

☀︎ - pairing: eris vanserra x reader

☀︎ - summary: you hook up with this delicious older man for one fun night to forget your scummy ex, what do you do when the same man turns out to be your new professor?

☀︎ - warnings: smut, oral (m.receiving), hint of degradation, taboo relationships, student x professor, both are obviously old enough, i just want him so bad GOD

☀︎ - amara’s note: this is going to be a series where i’ll post text threads with prof eris, headcanons, just different things. I’m planning this series to be about 10 chapters, but I literally have no structure, I just write. also i hope you like this as much as I do. and if you see any mistakes, no you don’t

In the corner of the club, everything felt a bit fuzzy. The air was thick with a mix of excitement and different scents. Dim lights created a soft atmosphere, and the distant sounds of the crowd and music blended together. It was like time slowed down, and you were in your own world, just soaking in the low-key vibe of the club corner.

The earlier shots hit you, and now you're in a blissful, relaxed state. All you could focus on were the hands exploring your body, lips locking with yours, and captivating scent surrounding you.

In the heat of the night, you ended up kissing a stranger without a second thought. The risk of being alone with someone unfamiliar did register – you just didn't care. Discovering your boyfriend's cheating after a difficult three-year relationship, marked by numerous breakups and makeups, left you feeling free from a toxic situation.

Now, free from those shackles, you embraced the chance to breathe and have some carefree fun. You had gone out with your friends, planning to originally get black out drunk but you suppose there’s better ways to cope.

Coming up with the idea of harmless fun, you and Elain came up with new identities for everyone to play out. Providing a random name, you spun a fat lie of being an up-and-coming writer, in the middle of writing your latest novel. Falsely claiming to be older, you described a beautiful house situated on the outskirts of Prythian that you owned. It was all part of a lighthearted game, with no harm intended since you believed you'd never cross paths with the guy again. It was ridiculously easy to bag the man since he didn’t tell you anything about himself, only nodding when you talked about yourself.

The attractive stranger had dark copper hair, captivating amber eyes, and stood several inches taller than you. His eyes glistened in mirth mixed with hunger. His muscular build caught your attention, and you found yourself grabbing onto his strong arms.

If his looks didn't captivate you, his mouth certainly did. His wicked tongue unleashed clever comebacks and tantalizing dirty talk that sent shivers down your spine.

The best part? He was older, more mature, more confident and much more good-looking – just so much more than your ex. Comparisons might be wrong, but if you had to choose, the man in front of you was a no-brainer.

Because he wasn't some guy; he was a man who acted like a man, who spoke like a man and touched you like a real fucking man.

The man had been touching and kissing you for what felt like an eternity. You greedily wanted more from him. You didn't want to regret not taking the chance, and almost as if he could sense it, he invited you back to his place.

You nodded, excusing yourself to let your friends know about leaving. Approaching them, you shared your decision to go with him, and Gwyn, Nesta, Em and Elain cheered you on. However, Feyre, always the protective friend, expressed her concern.

“Go get some, but I swear I’ll hunt him down if anything happens, got it? And have your location on.”

Her words, while somewhat playful, held a genuine undertone of worry.

You nodded and promised her you’d be safe before hurriedly made your way outside to the handsome man.

“Still want to come with me, sweet thing?” he asked curiously, making sure it was still something you wanted.

“Mm, yeah, still wanna go. Unless you've changed your mind?” Stepping forward, you grabbed the man's tie, pulling it gently as you looked up at him with half-lidded eyes. A playful glint clouded your gaze as you cocked your head to the side, oozing confidence.

He smirked down at you with a wicked glint, clearly showing his mind was nowhere near changed. The man stepped forward, rubbing his clothed cock against your dress, making you feel his hard on through his pants

“Does it feel like I’ve changed my mind?”

The chemistry you had was unmatched, he was so clever and witty and you wanted to know more about him as he led you to his car, a sleek, black one, indicating money.

You’d blame your forwardness on the alcohol tomorrow when you remembered how you just blurted out the question.

“Hey, you rich or something?” you giggled.

The man opened up the backseat door for you and through the side of his eye gave you an amused smirk.

“Or something.” he teased.

You rolled your eyes, grinning, as you hopped into the backseat, enjoying the warmth of his hands securing your seatbelt and closing the door.

But hold on, the backseat?

Weren't you supposed to sit upfront with him? Before you could ask, he opened the other backseat door and slid in beside you.

Maintaining eye contact, he grinned at your confusion and said, “Alden, please take us home.” A faint "yes sir" was heard, and the car started moving. Shocked, you realized he had a driver – clearly, he was quite wealthy.

You scanned the spacious car, realizing there was more than enough room for the fun activities on your mind. With a screen separating you from the driver, you unbuckled your seatbelt and moved closer, straddling his lap.

His hands instinctively found your hips, guiding your movements over him. Lips on your neck, he left dark marks as your hands ventured lower, reaching his cock, which elicited a groan from him. Your eyes widened as you felt the size of him. The man simply flashed you a subtle smile and raised his eyebrows.

You unbuckled his belt, maintaining eye contact as you carefully watched his face show pleasure as you put your hand down his pants and stroked him. You gave him a few lazy strokes, eventually shuffling off his lap and kneeling infront of him, ready to put your mouth to use.

Time became irrelevant and all that was heard were the sinful, obscene noises mixed with his hisses of pleasure as you sloppily bobbed your head up and down, swirling your tounge around the head, running your finger over the slit.

“Fuck yeah, that’s it. Could use this slutty little mouth forever.” he rasped, hips bucking as his hands went to your hair, slightly pulling on it as you let out a muffled whimper.

Pre cum and spit dripped down your chin, slowly making it’s way to your chest and floor as you pushed your head down further and further, feeling satisfied at his sounds of pleasure.

Once, twice, you grip on the shaft and slap the tip on your tongue before sucking on the sensitive head.

With a quick twitch of his cock, he cums, experiencing euphoria in his buzzed state. He gasps and moans pitifully as his lips twitch between his teeth and his hips buck into your mouth against his better judgement. You pump your hand at the base of his cock where you are unable to fit, swallowing as much of the hot, sticky ropes that coat your mouth as you can. As he pours into you, the walls of your pussy clench around nothing, so badly wishing your were sitting on the cock that was currently on your tongue.

His cum was everywhere - your hair, your face, your tits. He slumped against the seat and moved his eyes down back to you, catching you licking of the sticky residue of your fingers.

Before either of you have a chance to say something, the car slows down to a halt signaling that you’re probably at his place. He tucks himself into his pants and doesn’t buckle them before he opens the door and grabs you, throwing you over his shoulder as you laugh. Your mind forgets about the fact that you’re covered in his cum and just blanks when you take a look at his so called house, a mansion or a fucking estate is more like it.

The lengthy driveway opened up to a stunning front yard adorned with red and orange-leaved trees, an unusual scene for the end of summer. A well-lit, ornate fountain with three tiers stood proudly infront of the house, enhancing the beauty of the surroundings. The massive Victorian mansion, with its beautiful windows and overgrown vines stunned you.

He set you down and held your hand as he led you into his room, and it overmet your expectations. Instead of a dark, edgy space, it was spacious with earthy tones and bathed in soft ambient lighting. The room exuded comfort, making you wish to stay longer. His bed, adorned with a large fluffy comforter and a million pillows, looked inviting.

Various trinkets and figurines adorned the room, but what captured your attention was a massive bookcase showcasing your favorite books. Intrigued, you dropped his hand and made your way over. Your eyes widened at seeing a book from your wishlist, yet to be released. Confused, you asked how he had it, and he explained that Sellyn Drake was an old family friend and had gifted it to him.

You decided to tease him about the book, saying, “You know, I've heard great many things about this book. How about you tell me what it's about? I heard it had some... exciting scenes.”

His eyes met yours, and with a subtle smile, he stepped closer and closer, “How about I show you instead?” The air seemed to thicken with a hint of tension, leaving you curious and captivated by the possibilities that lingered in his suggestion.

——

Your legs trembled as you hastily stood up, determined to make your exit. Having been fucked stupid all night, dawn was approaching, and the new semester was starting tomorrow, leaving you with a load of preparations. You located your dress, bag, and heels, putting the clothes on carefully. Quietly, you ordered a cab to avoid startling the man still asleep. Before leaving, your eyes lingered on his bookshelf. Tiptoeing closer, you took the book you'd eyed the night before and read the teaser on the back. Glancing between him and the book, grabbed it, and silently left his room and house.

——

Feyre, Elain, Nesta, Gwyn and Em, your friends and roomates, practically pulled you across campus to grab your schedule and check out the new students filling the cafeteria. The buzz of excited chatter and the aroma of coffee and sweet pastries filled the air as you scanned the room. After a few moments, you parted ways, each heading to your respective classrooms, the anticipation of a new semester buzzing in the atmosphere.

You wandered through the literature building, searching for classroom LE4, the place where Advanced Literature with Professor Beron awaited. Memories of your first year with him being an absolute ass lingered, so you hoped he'd calmed down over the summer, giving everyone a fucking break.

You finally entered the huge lecture hall and climbed the stairs, opting for a seat at the back, hoping to fly under the radar in case Professor Beron was in a bad mood.

A few rows down, you spotted your ex, Ilias, with a new girl on his lap. His sleazy smile and wandering hands were more icky than anything ever. Reflecting on why you ever went back to him so many times, you turned around, focused on bringing out your notebook and computer from your bag. As the doors opened, the click-clack of quality shoes echoed through the hall, accompanied by girly giggles and voices creating a murmur in the background.

A jolt of surprise froze you, and your heart seemed to pause for a moment as his voice unexpectedly filled the room. All your previous movement ceased, and a sudden hush fell over the surroundings, creating an atmosphere charged with unexpected tension. The shock of hearing someone you hoped thought to see again made time momentarily stand still.

“Hello. I'm Professor Eris, and I'll be taking over this class. My father used to teach it but has passed away, so I'll be filling his shoes. I anticipate a productive year together. If you doubt your ability to keep up with the rapid pace of this advanced class, I suggest you leave now and spare yourself, as well as me, the trouble.”

Panicking, your eyes scanned the room for any possible escape route. There was just no fucking way you could be in this class when your professor had fucked you against his bookshelf, or when you had his dick shoved down your throat. Sinking in your seat, you desperately opened your computer, using it as a shield, praying he wouldn't notice you. The need to escape intensified, but the fear of drawing attention kept you frozen in your seat.

As dread crept in, he pulled out an attendance list. The sinking feeling deepened as he insisted everyone state why they chose the course. Hiding behind your computer, you debated revealing your presence or attempting to stay under the radar.

"Ilias Smith?"

"Emma Wilson?"

"Jess Lennox?"

"Amanda Gomez?"

Each one confidently declared "here" and delved into passionate remarks about Hemingway, Austen, Kerouac, all the authors that made them choose this course or whatever. Your hands started sweating as Professor Eris called your name. When you hesitated, he repeated it louder, his gaze scanning until it locked onto you.

Anticipating an intense reaction, all you saw was a slight narrowing of his eyes.

“Well? Are you here, Y/N L/N?”

You mumbled a faint "yeah," and when he asked why you were there, your words fumbled, “Uh, I suppose because I like books. A huge fan. Yes.”

Your classmates chuckled at your less-than-impressive answers, and you sunk back into your chair, just observing for the rest of the lecture. A few rows ahead, a group of girls giggled, thinking they were discreet as they whispered about Professor Eris. Their discussions about their fantasies sparked a tiny irritation within you.

Like who the hell gossips about someone, so crudely in broad daylight and during a lecture, especially when it's about a professor? It wasn't jealousy, no, no definitely not.

You just found it… super unsettling.

——

After two suffocating hours, you hastily packed your bag, eager to escape. But just as you were about to disappear, your name echoed in the room.

“Miss L/N, do you mind staying behind? There seems to be a problem with your email,” Professor Eris announced, leaning against his desk with his massive arms crossed. He bid the remaining students goodbye and waited until they all left before locking the doors.

The moment those doors clicked shut, the atmosphere in the room shifted dramatically. The tension became so thick you could practically cut it with a knife.

He turned back around and approached you, merely a few inches away, face a mix of amusement and curiosity.

“Hello there, little liar. I certainly didn’t expect to see you here.”

Your cheeks heated and nervousness filled you at the memory of the depraved moments you'd shared, causing your gaze to involuntarily drop to his chest and wander downward, reliving those sensations.

However any nervousness vanished as you remembered that he was the one who came to your university. If anyone should’ve been surprised it should’ve been you. A mischievous smile played on your lips as you toyed with the idea of making his year more challenging. Testing how good of a man he really was became a tempting game.

After all, a man like him wouldn't indulge a student, right?

This could turn into a fun little project to spice up an otherwise dull year.

Lifting your chin up, you looked him square in the eyes as your lips twitched in anticipation.

“I could say the same, Professor Eris. You definitely don’t seem like the lecturer type.”

His eyes narrowed at you, jaw clenching as his intense gaze bore into yours. The intensity made you shift a little, almost causing you to lose some of your confidence.

“Do you think you're funny? I believe you understand the situation here. You lied and now you're here of all places. As my student. Well, this is an unexpected twist. One of us will have to quit and report this,” he stated, injecting a hint of playfulness into his serious tone.

Wait, quit? No, you really didn't want him to leave. This could turn into such a nice little distraction, and there was no way you were losing it now. The thought of him leaving added a layer of urgency to the situation, making you quickly reassess the potential consequences.

“Come on, professor. It doesn't have to be like this. I won't tell anyone. And who says we have to stay away from each other? I mean, what the dean doesn't know won't hurt him, right?” you suggested, a sly smile playing on your lips as you flirted with the idea of bending the rules.

Eris looked you up and down before throwing his head back and letting out a hearty laugh. Your brows furrowed as you twisted your lips, wondering if he was laughing at you. Was he not taking you seriously? Despite the uncertainty, the desire to keep playing this game with him intensified.

Eris seemed to notice your mood turning sour and promptly clamped his lips shut.

“I promise, sweet thing, I'm not laughing at you. I’m just amazed at your boldness.” he assured you with a more serious tone, attempting to dispel any misunderstanding.

“Promise?”

He stepped forward, “Cross my heart and hope to die.”

You both knew that under no circumstances should you be doing this. If anyone caught you, there would be hell to pay. Expulsion and blacklisting from any other Ivy League universities for you, and definitely prison or some sort of pesky law thingy for him.

Yet the mere thought of engaging in something so wrong and secretive made your stomach flip, a mix of thrill and anxiety churning within you.

Looking up through your lashes, you blushed, a deep crimson hue spreading across your cheeks as you once again grabbed his tie and pulled him closer.

“I promise I won't tell anyone, professor. It'll be our little secret,”you whispered, the words laden with a taboo excitement that sent a shiver down your spine.

A wicked gleam flashed in Eris's eyes, and a subtle smirk tugged at the corners of his lips.

“Well then, miss L/N,”he whispered, his voice low and conspiratorial. “Let's see just how well we can keep our little secret.”

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calummss · 6 months

Text

Baby baby | Marshall Mathers

masterlist

summary: you find out your pregnant and tell marshall

pairing: fem! reader x 90s marshall mathers/eminem

words: 880

Positive

As hard as that slap from reality was, it was the only positive thing in your life. You were young, working a part-time job to finance college. Marshall worked many jobs to provide income but it simply wasn’t enough. You could hardly keep the both of you afloat. And now a baby? Where would that money come from? How would you be able to support yourself?

Your chest tightened as you held the test in your hands, the tremors making it hard to read the letters. Ringing in your ears increased the longer you shut out the world. Picking the skin of your lips leaving you with the taste of copper, you crammed the test into your pocket, stuffing the rest of the trash away and walked to the entrance of your parent’s house, grabbing your coat and boots as well as a hat and scarf to combat the harsh Detroit winter. Walking along the streets that were covered in white frost, baby names inspired by winter popped into your mind. All you could think about was the baby. Every person you encountered: baby. Every leaf: baby. It was all you could think about.

Arriving at the restaurant Marshall was currently working at, you walked past the main entrance towards the back entrance, surrounded by trash bags leaning against trash containers. You banged your fist against the door to be sure you’d be heard, your warm breath colliding with the cold air of Detroit, constant shivers trying to keep you from freezing.

The door opened with a powerful pull, DeShaum standing in front of you with a surprised smile. ‘Y/n, what are you doin’ here?’

‘Em here?’

‘No, hello?’ He crossed his arms, his playfulness obvious.

‘Sorry, Shaun, I’m just really fucking stressed right now and I feel like my heart’s gonna drop out of my ass.’ You rambled barely taking time to breathe. ‘I love you but I need to speak to him right now.’

‘I’ll get him.’ He turned around and walked away with only his voice to be heard, ‘Yo, where’s Slim? His girl’s ‘ere!’

‘Thank you.’ You returned the smile, balling your hands in your coat, your legs colliding together as you took steps to keep you moving and your body warm.

‘Hey, what’s up?’ Marshall arrived at the door with his apron around his neck, puzzled as to why you suddenly showed up at his workplace. ‘Boss said I got 15.’

‘Can we go somewhere more private,’ you glanced around the alley, ‘and somewhere warm.’

‘Yeah of course,’ He pulled you into the building, walking you past the kitchen and staff to a break room that was empty. ‘What’s wrong witchu? You don’t look well. You’re pale and look like your about to throw up.’

You stayed quiet, unable to say anything. Your heart was racing, your mind racing with thoughts so fast you were unable to comprehend most of them. The only thing you could do was cry. You stared at Marshall whose worry protruded from his eyes, eyebrows knitted at his hands were placed on both your shoulders. Tears started to well. You tried biting your lip but it was no use. Tears started to fall.

‘Hey, hey what’s wrong?’ Marshall pulled you into his embrace, holding you so tight you could feel the pressure relieve some tension. ‘Watchu crying about?’

‘I. Don’t know.’ You sniffed, wiping away your tears that never stop. ‘I’m scared,’

‘Scared of what, baby?’

‘Em,’ you glanced at him, taking a second to compose yourself, ‘I’m pregnant.’

‘What?’

‘I’m pregnant. I took the test.’ You gave him the test so he could see for himself.

‘What?’

‘It happens when two people constantly have sex.’

‘I’m not fucking stupid, Y/n,’

‘Sorry,’ you sniffed again, your nose blocked, ‘I’m just on edge. I can’t think straight.’ You tried claiming yourself with a deep breath but ended up shaky as your nerves jumped all over the place.

‘Hey, hey,’ Marshall cupped your face, forcing you to look at him. Puffy lids, wide pupils and doe eyes, ready to surrender to the stress that had been planted on you. ‘We’re gonna figure this shit out okay? If you wanna keep it, we keep it. If not then not.’ He nodded. ‘And if we end up eating pasta with ketchup for years to keep us goin’ and give our baby the things we didn’t have. We will be able to do this shit, okay?’

‘Okay,’ you forced a smile, not fully ready to accept reality. ‘Okay.’

‘You know whatchu gonna do?’

‘No not yet. I—I need time to think.’

‘Y/n, listen to me okay,’ his thumbs rubbed against the apples of your cheeks. ‘You’re gonna go straight home. No staying in the cold. Sit down, make yourself a cup of tea and try to relax okay? I’ma come back as soon as I’m done and then we’re gonna talk this through properly.’

‘Okay,’ quiet sniff. ‘I’ll do that.’

‘Good.’ His face came closer, ‘Stay safe baby.’ He pressed his lips against yours. ‘I’ll see you later.’

Wiping your nose you pressed a quick kiss on his cheek and headed out of the back entrance, passing Proof as his gaze lingered on you. What are you going to do?

#eminem x you #eminem x y/n #eminem headcanon #eminem x reader #eminem imagine #eminem imagines #eminem fanfic #eminem fanfiction #eminem #marshall mathers x y/n #marshall mathers x you #marshall mathers headcanon #marshall mathers x reader #marshall mathers imagines #marshall mathers imagine #marshall mathers fanfiction #marshall mathers

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latenightdaydreams · 24 days

Note

Can you write about Viking!Konig who's the leader of his clan. One time he raids a random village and meets fem!reader, who's beautiful with her hazel eyes and round breasts. Then he takes her as his wife!!!!! Ahhhhh I'm crazy about this. I'm sorry for asking too much 😭😭😭 BTW thank you for accepting my previous request ❤❤❤ love ya so muchhhhh

König is 100000% a boobie man and I will die on that hill😮‍💨 lmao, I LOVE this!!!! Don't ever feel bad for requesting. I'm having a bit of a writers block and this story helped me find my flow again🩷. I hope you're well and taking care of yourself🥰🥰

Viking!König x Reader (fem)

MDNI🔞

Master List

>cw: fem/afab, violence, naughty thoughts

1.0k word count

You wake up from your slumber hearing the screams from your neighbors in the small village you live in. You rush past your family who is now also scrambling to their feet, your husband rushing to gather himself as your children panic. You open your door slightly to see rooftops on fire and dead bodies lying in the roads.

Quickly, you close the door and turn to your husband with wide eyes, “Callum, it’s Vikings…” Your voice shakes with fear. You’ve heard stories from other villages about their attacks, leaving nothing but death and sorrow in their paths.

“We have to run, grab the children!” Callum whispers loudly as you stand there feeling overwhelmed with emotions. Everyone always assumed this village would be safe, untouchable, but this proved them all wrong.

Rushing to your children, you quickly squat down, “We are going to have to run, as fast as you can, okay?”

The children nod their heads crying, your oldest trying to be brave for you. Just then you all jump as the door is flung open. Screaming, you turn to see three big men and an equally large woman enter your home. An even bigger man, ducks to enter your home. Your eyes go wide seeing him, you’ve heard of the giant Viking man, but you assumed he was more of a myth to instill fear in people.

Using your body to shield your children as you step in front of them, you look to your husband. Callum seems to be frozen in fear, unable to even breathe. There’s a moment where no one moves and it’s quiet other than the sounds of your children crying.

The large man has a mask covering his face, his pale blue eyes are the only part of his face that is visible in the low light in the home. He has an aura about him that could strike fear in any warrior’s heart.

“P-please leave us, we don’t have much.” You speak up, your voice trembling.

The leader turns to two of the other Vikings and speaks to them in a language that you’ve never heard before. They nod and move to my husband, restraining him. He screams and the woman hits him, making you fear for your lives more. You look up wide eyed as the tall man begins to approach you.

König sees the family before him, a man frozen in fear, three children cowering behind their mother, and then their mother… you. A small but brave woman, brave enough to speak up when her husband couldn’t. It makes him impressed, wondering what type of woman could be so bold.

König approaches you with a hungry look in his eyes. His gaze drops down to the way the thin fabric of your nightgown clings to your body. Your breasts are massive and perfectly round, nipples hard and poking through the fabric. König has always loved a woman with large breasts and a little extra. Your breasts looking so perfectly full, his mind begins to wonder if you are still feeding your youngest. Your body is simply perfect for him.

“Name?” König asks in a low voice.

“Leave her alone!” Your husband shouts, trying to protect you. He gets hit by one of the people restraining him.

“I- I’m y/n.” You respond trying to be brave.

The closer he got the more his true size became obvious. The smell of his clothes-stained copper from the blood and his natural musk filled your nostrils. You feel small as he towers over you. His eyes are still wandering your body.

“I’m König.” He says finally.

He feels himself getting lost in your eyes as he takes in the beautiful color. You gaze up at him with the most stunning sage green eyes speckled with golden brown. The most beautiful hazel eyes he has ever seen. Gently he raises a hand to your face and caresses it, leaving a streak of blood behind. Your skin is so soft to his large and rough hand. He can only imagine the rest of you is this soft.

“Is this your husband?” He points to Callum.

“Yes, and these are our children. Please, we are simply farmers. We don’t have much.”

“Hm, I see.” König takes a deep breath and looks down at your breasts again. “Are you still feeding the youngest?”

“Y-yes…” You answer hesitantly wondering what type of question is that.

That is exactly what he wanted to hear. You are not only bold, daring, and beautiful; but also soft, desirable, and can create children for him. This is what he’s been looking for, and he finds you here. Wasting your milk on a weak man’s offspring.

“Perfect, you’ll be coming with me.”

Your jaw drops stunned as you look up at him shaking your head no, “I- I can’t leave my family. My husband-”

“That man? He’s not worthy of you. You deserve more, and I intend on giving it to you. Now please Liebling, don’t fight.”

König steps to you and grabs your arm to pull you away from your children. Your husband begins to yell at König, saying that he can’t do this. He can’t just take you. Your children stand confused, not understanding the whole situation completely while the youngest cries.

“Please, don’t.” You whimper, looking back at your family as he drags you away.

“You’ll be happy with me. You aren’t a farmer's wife, you’re a queen. My queen. Now come.” König scoops you up into his arms bridal style, his fingers digging into the supple flesh of your thighs as he carries you away from your small home.

“Don’t worry, my people will let your family live.” König whispers to you as he walks. His eyes are drifting down your body. He feels the anticipation rising as he begins to walk you back to his clan’s ship on the coast near your village. He wants you in his home, in his bed, undressed where he can enjoy you and gaze into your eyes as he makes you cum. Soon.

#konig #konig x reader #konig x y/n #könig #konig cod #könig x reader #konig smut #könig smut #könig cod #könig mw2 #konig x you #konig x reader smut #könig call of duty #könig x y/n #könig x you #viking könig

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sandara-and-coco · 7 months

Text

₊˚⊹⋆ Howdy there! It’s finally time for Sandrock's final release yay ₊˚⊹⋆

To celebrate this special occasion Sandara pulled off her jewelry making skills to prepare some unique rings for every sandrocker who wishes to propose to their soulmate ! So without further, here's a little story behind each design,

Qi - Sended an intriguing blueprint to Sandara with complex symbols and diagrams…He assured her that it meant something important to his soulmate so she craved the coded message in precious silver with care. Even if she didn’t get Qi special love language as usual she was sure his loved one would get it ;)

Owen - Our favorite bartender showed an intricate design to Sandara, a delicate pattern almost the same as his own parents' engagement ring. Like the gilding flowers on the cover of a fine book he wished to give his lover the beginning of the story they were about to write together in this life.

Fang - The swan holding a special meaning to him Fang requested Sandara to make his ring the shape of that gracious animal to seal his promise to love and cherish his dearest one forever.

Ernest - Came by with this big and expensive pearl that got a special meaning to him asking Sandara if she could add it to his ring. The pearl symbol of his loyalty and love was carefully placed on the gold ring, the initials of his name and his lover one engraved on the inside.

Pablo - He made a special request to Sandara in search of the most colorful metal they could find for his ring in which bismuth mineral was perfect! Showing how bright and full of all the colors of this world his love was for his chosen one.

Arvio - Insisting on getting the most fine materials Arvio asked for a special ring. He showed Sandara a rare sand flower from Baranarok symbolizing hope and renewal inspiring the shape of that jewel meant to bond him and his other half forever.

Miguel - Requested a rather simple but very elegant ring, made with pale gold with a single diamond to show the purity of his love for his chosen one.

Burgess - Asked for something extra special to convey all his will to live in happiness and kindness with his soulmate. The yellow diamond he chose shining in the center of his ring radiating like the sun all his love.

Pen - In secret Pen demanded the most powerful ring Sandara could make to give his special one great strength and power he’s all for. However he never delivered it himself…

Unsuur - While admiring his collection Unsuur couldn't choose which gem was more fitting so he brought them all to Sandara to make a special ring! (even adding a few shards Wilson lost to make the base of his special ring ;)

Justice - Wanted a pretty ring that still felt like him so Sandara took great care at bringing out Justice strong will and honesty toward his most precious one with this silver and copper ring.

Logan - The only one Sandara didn’t made because well Logan made it himself for his special one! On late hunt nights he sat by the fire and carefully carved this ring in bones with the will to give his loved one something he made with all his heart.

This isn’t much but I hope everyone will have much fun playing and living wonderful adventures with Sandrockers friendly as romantic ones ! As I used to study jewelry making it was very much fun to do and fitting hc that Sandara would make them for the town folks !

It’s been already one year that I have being in this fandom and so so grateful for everything it brought me and the wonderful people it allowed me to meet ♡

I’m currently working on the girl next and some custom ones for my fellow builders who helped me with the designs ◇

₊˚⊹⋆ Happy Sandrock day ! Wish you all the best and see you soon to continue this journey together ₊˚⊹⋆

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undercoverpena · 6 months

Text

viii. leave me on red

frankie morales x f!reader | chapter eight of i like the way you

best friend! friends with benefits! frankie morales summary: what starts off as an offhand remark, quickly becomes a regular, scheduled 'stress relief'. the only problem is, both of you are in denial that you feel anything outside of friendship for the other.

warnings: friends with benefits. fwb! rules. flirting. idiots who are so in love it’s stupid. feelings. smut - phone/text/video sex. angst. dont hate the jo.

word count: 3.6k

an: the hugest thanks to @thetriumphantpanda for not getting mad at me for doing this to them.

You decided it in the minutes after he left, you were going to tell him.

Back pressed to the door, head resting, eyes closed. Tears stinging in the edges, burning. Your breath all strained and difficult—that is, until it decided what it wished to be, anyway.

Then, it shifted, transformed. It morphing into a sob that rumbles and cracks, shaking its way through you until your knees plead to crumble to the floor.

Because you had wanted to chase after him. Even ring him. Beg him to come back.

It wasn’t until you climbed back into bed, letting the scent of him wash over you, did you commit to the idea.

That’s when you begin rehearsing it, letting it move from rolling around your skull to dripping from your tongue. You did so as you made food, as you did chores. Perfecting it, choosing words so cautiously and carefully, swapping them out, practising it until it becomes a thing typed into a piece of your soul.

I’m in love with you Frankie. I have been for a while.

You don’t expect it to rival the greatest poets, and won’t find a place amongst the greatest scripts to ever be. It won’t be a speech that’ll be copied and used in film. But it’ll matter.

It will be meaningful.

It’ll have weight and carry truth—and you suppose, when all is said and done—that’s what will matter. It’ll be out there, free, existing—swirling between the two of you instead of caged inside of your chest.

Once you’ve spoken it, it should calm the storm inside of you; should quiet the choppy waves that collide within you, each one attempting to do more than knock you off your feet, but grasp you by the ankles and drag you under.

Confessing it, should do a lot of things. But that doesn’t bring you any comfort right now. If anything, it makes you feel sick, feeling only thorny anguish which keeps you up at night.

Never before had you been thankful for booking vacation time.

A chance to be, to sit around your home and pretend you don’t want to find a way to get to him, tell him it all now, let it unspool, even with no hope of it being the same as it ever was.

Because you could lose him. Ruin it all. Taint the one thing you cherish above all else.

It’s why you turn it over. Letting it worm its way from a box of doubts to a fully-fledged car crash you replay over and over as you lay in bed, fingers twitching, chest tightening, jaw clenching.

It’s only on the third day since you had made the decision, that you decide to share your plan with another soul.

Doing so over the phone—only one name came to mind. As soon as she answered and you spilt, you were greeted with only a joyous tone, it all full of pride. Your friend who is all knowledgable and wise, being nothing short of a cheerleader. Saw it coming, she tells you, been waiting for you to wake up and smell the coffee. You bite your inner cheek, doing so until copper swirls around spit, because you’ve known too (something you want to tell her). You’d been carrying it around for longer than realisation had been bestowed on her.

It’s easier not to say it. Swallowing it, letting it die in a pit of stomach acid, where other things you never say go to erode.

“Any advice?” you’d asked.

“Just be honest.”

On day four, you had gnawed the skin from your lip. It's sore, practically pulsing. It has its own heartbeat from how raw it feels.

Your nerves beginning to get the better of you, swarming and piercing, pecking away at your earlier confidence—stinging it with doubts, ones which spread, all poisonous, swelling out until it’s all you can feel.

His texts help.

One day I’ll get you back up in a heli. Only if I can sit between your legs like last time. Can sit anywhere you want, baby.

You’re not sure how it’s possible that miles away he can make your day better and your pussy clench around nothing all at once. Your body missing him—just as much as your head, heart and soul. Thighs pressing together, all your earlier thoughts popping like bubbles as you read his words over, and over, and over. A whimper grows in the back of your throat, hammering on the back of your teeth to be released.

Flicking your eyes up, you catch your appearance in the mirror.

The way your skin is just lightly sheened with the droplets from your shower—having been in a rush to reply than dry yourself. So much so, the air tinged with the scent of your shampoo and body wash. It’s thick, and heavy, your skin warming under the effect of his words making it more prominent, evident.

Smirking, you slide your hand until it undoes the robe of your dressing gown—letting it gape, the cool air brushing over once warm skin, until it pebbles, the peaks of your nipples hardening as you take a breath, and snap. There, immortalised, you stand—positioning your phone, ensuring the camera cuts off your eyes, beginning at the base of your nose, capturing the white of your teeth against your bottom lip, the white robe hanging, parted, framing the bare skin under it.

And you don’t think, you just send.

No caption, no message.

Just the sound of the whoosh as your heart hammers, beats, and thumps in the milliseconds it takes before you see the speech bubble of his reply.

Fuck, baby. Wish you were here.

Bending down to kneeling, you shimmy the fabric from your shoulders—pooling it in the creases of your elbows. Positioning yourself so your hand can be seen perfectly between your thighs, keeping yourself hidden, just a fraction. You ensure your breasts are on show, arm shifting to push them closer together, before you smirk—no, you think. Shifting your expression to a smile, a little one, which grows bigger and larger just as you click the shoot button.

It begins, a slow-motion capture of your disrobe, of you seating yourself down on the floor in front of your mirror, taking instruction through his texts—positioning yourself like a doll. The last being on your rear, soles flat to your carpet, thighs spread, head back as your neck elongates.

You’ve never felt more beautiful, even exposed. Eyes don’t linger on the things you usually pick apart first thing in the morning, before you dress for another day, and they don’t linger on the parts you catch in the corner of your eyes before you shower. You just see radiance, shadow-kissed skin that is being bowed to through a screen.

Fuck you’re gorgeous. Can see how wet you are. You need me, baby? Always, Frankie.

Your finger sliding along your inner thigh, tips brushing over before parting your folds. It won’t be enough, he’s ruined you—made it impossible not to wish for him, crave those thick, long fingers that both keep things hovering in the air and you hovering over space, time and existence.

“Frankie,” you moan, to no one but you.

Curling, sinking deeper until—

Can I call you?

You don’t reply, you just call. The distinct sound of a request to video echoes around the room as you slow your ministrations, a low whimper escaping as he connects, as his face fills the screen that's cast to the side, his own view of your ceiling.

He says your name, quiet, more questioning. Your trembling hand moves, picking it up as the other remains buried deep inside you, lifting your phone, giving him a view, a taste, a sight.

“Tell me what to do,” you whine.

Watching him as he drinks as much of you in as he can, commits you to memory, skates his eyes over every pixel, not wanting to miss a single one, before he clears his throat, before he carries you in his phone to his bed.

Licking your lips, you release a breathy sigh—one that begins in the depths of your stomach, rising up and fluttering out. Almost carrying a moan as you find that spot inside of you, the one which makes you boneless, thighs threatening to tremble.

“You want me to keep my fingers—“

“Faster,” Frankie stammers, “Want you to move those perfect fingers a little faster for me. Think you can do that?”

Nodding, you roll your lips, heat washing out over you, gripping the phone tightly.

“Fuck, baby. Y’know how good you look right now?”

You heave out his name. It building, fanning out over nerves that tingle at the edges of you—making your fingers curl, heel of your palm catching the swollen bundle of nerves that makes the sound of what you’re doing that much louder, filthier, more obscene.

And you fucking love it.

Love all of this.

Love him—

“Wish I could bury my face between your legs—“

“—oh, shit—“

“—y’like the sound of that, querida?”

Your eyes flick to the screen, staring at him—a pang in your chest flooding outwards, it mixing with how much you wish he was here, desperate for it, half-wanting to beg him to get his ass over here and make a mess of you in front of your mirror.

“Touch yourself,” you say instead.

Swallowing back the rest, letting your head fall back, obscuring him from view as you slow your movements, teasing, edging yourself as your core twists, and electricity thunders in your veins.

“Want—fuck—wanna come with you.”

“Alright baby,” he says—as if it’s the most normal thing, as though anything the two of you are doing is normal. “Let’s do this together.”

You hope it’s not the only time he’ll say that to you.

Days drag when you clock watch. Hours take even longer.

It’s a thing you know, but you can’t help but do so all the same. Each time you check, you hope it’s closer to the time. The one marked in your calendar, the one which has been making you both nervous and elated all week.

It had only been when you stopped tidying, stopped moving things from one counter to the other, did you spot it—eyes land on it and never leave.

You're not even sure when he left it behind, but your eyes linger on the corduroy jacket near your door. It’s moss-green, hanging, growing in the corner of your eye and borrowing more of your attention than it should. You’re sure it grows vines, ones which tap on your shoulder when you’re able to forget it’s there, only to make you look over, and spot it all over again.

The worst thing about it, it looks like it's supposed to be there. As though the hook you had expertly hung, (correction: hammered a nail in and hoped for the best) was always meant to hang his things, be dedicated to it.

In truth, he acts like he’s supposed to be here.

Fitting, even if you’d never made a place for him outside of being his friend. Now, you see the outline of him, perfect cut out, a drawer which could host the bolts and bits from his pockets, the shelf which he could place his eccentric collection of DVDs from the sleepless nights during storms.

You suppose it’s why it continues to catch your eyes, your gaze lingering on it—knowing, without brushing your fingers against it or burying your nose into it, that it smells like it. That, in its own way, is spreading out that calming effect he has.

One you need now more than ever.

Hand wrapping around the handle of the knife, chopping, preparing. Eyes studying the recipe that is ingrained in you, one you could do with a timer and your eyes closed, but you need to stare at it, to read the handwritten notes and pretend for a second it’s not something you used to make for him all the time.

Before the rule, the one he made you agree to because you’d asked something from him.

Now, you just snort. Adding the ingredients to the pot, turning the heat down, as a soft simmer begins before you wipe your hands down on your towel. Because in time, you’d broken all of them, both for one another and for yourselves.

And that had to mean something. Had to be more than a coincidence or something that just was. It had to be underpinned by unsaid words and swirling emotions neither of you feel equipped to handle, yet feel more prominently than you know what to do with.

You make more of an effort in your clothes. Not for him, for you. A thrill sparks through you when you catch sight of yourself when you pass a mirror, catch yourself in the reflection of a window, your television. Because you look like someone who could confess your feelings, let your adoration be known. You feel like someone who will do it, can do it—a confidence which has been coming and going since you’d decided.

It’s only when you lay it all out (the glasses, the plates and the cutlery), does a stitch begin to appear in your carefully thought-out plan. One that digs, the needle-sharp, pointed, aiming to prick and make you bleed, smear across perfection and make it ruin. A thing you put off, able to argue with it, point out its stupidity.

Tonight could be the last time you see him.

Maybe, this thing the two of you had was all he had wanted—all he’d needed. Not an overbearing amount of emotions he can’t handle or begin to understand.

A thought you try to squash, shove down deep inside.

That is, until the bigger hand pushes the smaller one on, and it begins to create a hole inside your chest. It forming based on that earlier thought. That dread, that worry and concern which has been thickening in the back of your head for weeks now. Now, it's grown out of the walls you kept it behind. It widens with each passing minute until it’s close to an hour and it’s practically a sinkhole. It taking everything it can with it—happiness, courage, laughs and the smiles. Vanishing them, wiping them clean like they never existed, as every bit of wanted you had felt, was painfully plucked from you, tweezed until you were back to that horrid place you were before all of this began.

Except now, you felt too much. Unsure if you’re able to put a cork in it, trap it under just want him to be happy and content at being friends.

A sob escapes, just a little one.

But, it’s enough to widen the door. Allowing more of them to bubble up and appear, climbing forcibly up your chest as though they’ve been building a ladder and plotting their escape for the last few minutes.

Each rolling out, freeing, bursting into the air. Your body racked with them, trembling, shaking.

Your hand finds refuge on the counter, stabilising you, keeping you from falling into the hole of your own making. And your thumb brushes porcelain, the neatly displayed food you’d spent hours on, a declaration all on its own.

A—see, I broke the rules too, Morales—except, he hasn’t come. Hasn’t arrived.

Maybe he’d known. Maybe he’d decided that it was all too much, standing you up easier—you supposed it was much harder to face the person you’d been best friends with and break her heart to her face.

But, your Frankie would never do that. Except he isn’t yours, not really.

Even less so as time ticks far past running late into the zone of stood up.

And you feel dumb, stupid. A gnawing sensation growing in the place your love had once been, it twisting, tainting, painting everything it can in ruin and staining it in the disappointment you never thought he’d make you feel.

“Fuck,” you choke out, hand clasping your face.

Fresh tears, acidic and thick, hammer down onto your cheeks like a downpour. Layering on top of one another, blurring your vision, making your chest feel both heavier and lighter all at once.

Grabbing your phone, you don’t even think—unlocking it, finding the contact and clicking Message.

Are you free for a drink?

You should consider it, go to bed, wake up tomorrow and bury your feelings in something healthier like yoga or a walk—but you send it. Discarding your phone across the counter, it clattering, catching on the plate as you bury your face in your hands.

Tears, hot and thick—running down your wrists—not doing enough to numb you as you let them fall. Disbelief doubles as hope is swallowed whole, your throat filling with sobs you feel forced to let spill—etching their way into the silence, fracturing it, cracking what should be laughter, but is instead loneliness.

It’s why you’re thankful they reply with a yes, giving it no more thought as you blow out the candle in the centre of the table, ending the night before it even began.

Frankie wakes to darkness.

It’s a comfort, the way it blankets him, allows the little shadows to rest easy against the ceiling from his open curtains—it is all soothing, relaxing. It even almost allowed him to curl back into the comfort of his sofa. His blanket—the one you bought him—cast over the lower part of his legs.

Then he remembers.

Eyes widening, blinking furiously as he throws his legs from the sofa, hand grabbing—making all sorts of noise on his coffee table—until his phone screen illuminates and he sees the time.

Late it spells.

It all a blaze, just in the form of numbers.

Fucking late it bellows.

Disorientation wraps around him as he shoves himself up to stand, fingers tugging at his curls until he imagines they’re more frizz than defined. Not even thinking—just grabbing. Phone, keys. Shoes barely on his feet as he yanks open his own door.

Calling you.

It rings. And it rings. Each unanswered drone of it doing something to the fragility of his heart. Making it quake, crackle at the edges.

All week, he’d done nothing but think of you. Think of holding you, burying himself close against you, not even asking you to shed layers, but rather just lying with him. Take in the weight of you that he finds all but a comfort.

I love you, he had planned to whisper. Mark it against your neck, just under your ear. Write it against your lips if you let him. Burn it anywhere else until you’re nothing but tattooed in praise and adoration.

“Pick up, baby,” he mumbles.

Ringing you again in the car.

The drive over tense, silent—the occasional dial tone echoing around the bed of his truck. His knuckles whiten at each red light, shoulders practically under his ears when he pulls onto your street. Something knotting, all horrible, riddled with vines and sharpness that cut into him with each breath he takes.

He’s not sure if he should be worried or thankful your car is in the drive—because the house is plunged into darkness. His boots clatter against your wooden steps, hammering on the short porch as he cracks his knuckles against the door.

Its echo, comes back to him—able to travel around in the silence and come back with an answer.

You’re not here.

But he knocks again, and again. Tears prick at the corner of his eyes, something clenched around his stomach, tightening and tightening as your name falls, all pleading, an edge to it that he hadn’t known was possible. But then, he hadn’t known he could begin splitting down the middle, the seams coming undone, his own might and willing not able to keep him together as the realisation he’d fucked up the one good thing he had.

The one good thing he didn’t even really have, too cowardly to tell you—too fearful that you’d stare at him blankly and tell him you don’t feel the same.

Because he’s been drowning in it, in this, in you, for so long, he knows how to just about keep his head from going under. He had been sure he could do it for longer, could stem his feelings, push them down. Until, you slept against him, fitting perfectly.

Until he woke with his arm draped over your waist, your leg tangled in his, staring at him with wonder and awe as you traced your name on his back.

He should have told you then it was the best thing he’s ever woken up to. A sight he had only dreamt of, but never imagined could even be true.

Pushing your key into the door, he’s greeted by darkness. It hovering its hand to him, welcoming him, even if the cold chill of the place was more than unsettling. He wanders, feet almost dragging, half hoping to find you sat in the dark, because at least then he could begin to make it up to you.

You’re not.

Moving through to your kitchen, all set to pass through to your bedroom, when something makes his eyes pull to your table, and he sees it.

Eyes landing on the set-up, from the plates to the glasses, to the orange dish in the centre—and his heart drops to his feet. It landed with a squelch, a thud which vibrates through him to the tips of him.

You made him food.

You broke a rule. You broke the rule.

His eyes beginning to well up, stinging, until one falls.

“Fuck,” he whispers.

Letting his hand run down his face, staring at his favourite meal—unable to unsee how congealed it was, how long it’s been sat there, existing, waiting.

“Fuck.”

an: forgive me 😘

CHAPTER NINE ->

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