#glad my father knows what’s up

[mediumsizedpidegon]

Vincent being the trial run for a lot of the experimentation Sephiroth went through isn't something I thought of until recently, but I can't stop thinking about it.

Glowing eyes may come from exposure to mako naturally, but is it the same with Sephiroth's slit pupils? Sure, it could be consistent exposure to a much much higher percentage of Jenova-infected mako, but what if it's not?

Is Hojo going to test that on his first try and risk ruining Sephiroth's eyes and requiring an eye transplant? No. He'll do it to Vincent first.

The SOLIDER program was in its infancy when Vincent was dragged onto the operation table. Who did they test it on to make sure it was safe(ish)? Do you think President Shinra would let Hojo ruin his possible SOLDIERS by not having tried it on something or someone else first? It wouldn't surprise me if Hojo had to create new, specialized medical equipment for the SOLDIER program that could also be used in hospitals. Who do you think he tested the efficiency of them on?

The scene I imagine the most is this: Sephiroth, SOLDIER of SOLDIERS, set apart among even the most enhanced, finally meeting someone who has gone through the same procedures, the same surgeries, cut open by the same hand.

The scene I imagine the most is this: like recognizing like.

#vincent valentine #sephiroth #ffvii #ff7 #do you think hojo used jenova-mako in high concentrations on Vincent? do you think in another time Vincent is the first one to grow wings? #i mean. combine this with me fully buying into the “vincent is sephiroth's bio dad” theory and uhhhhh FEELINGS #it's like. oh? you have a father and it's NOT hojo? well. hojo fucked him up too. he fucked him up in pursuit of making YOU. #how does that feel? are you glad you're not alone in your pain? does guilt come creeping in afterwards? #what's it like sephiroth. what's it like to see photos of your father when he was young and then look up at the red ghost he is now #and know that young man is dead because of you? #are you glad then. are you happy your father is not hojo then. is this what you wanted? #my posts

[batbobsession]

What if chapeau taught Adam to play violin?

OMG I actually had a headcanon that Adam was just bad at playing the violin, explored a little in this fic. This'll be really cute.

-------------------------------------------

Shifting

"Non--non, your highness, please, you hold it with your chin."

"I can't." Adam struggles to keep his frustration at bay. "I can hold it with my hands just fine."

"Oui, that is how we teach children," the tutor sighs. "They have no strength to hold something with anything but their hands. You, however, are no mere child--you have the strength to prove it."

But what difference does it make? he thinks mutinously. I held it that way during my last performance, and no one could tell the difference! It hurts when I try anyway.

Out loud, he only asks "But why is that important? I still don't understand."

The tutor's nearing his limit, Adam can tell. But he only shakes his head, the curls on his wig sagging over his forehead. "If you were to shift positions, or something shakes your concentration--"

Now Adam wants to throw the thing at the tutor's face. What sort of game is he playing, throwing out vague answers like that? Shifting positions sounds like something an idiot would do--who'd adjust his stance in the middle of a performance? Not Adam, he wouldn't. Unless something did shake his concentration, he supposes, but that wouldn't be his fault, it would be some ignoramus in the audience--

"Deep breaths, my dear, deep breaths."

His mother's voice drifts across Adam's mind like smoke, extinguishing his initial vitriol. It was true that he got riled up over certain things, especially things he didn't understand. They scared him.

But he never wanted to learn the violin! He can play fortepiano just fine, but his father insisted that an extra instrument would show how intelligent Adam was. He sent Cogsworth off to discuss it with his mother, and she eventually agreed. It still isn't fair; he is much more comfortable with the fortepiano. It's so much easier to see where the notes will spring. He overheard other nobles talking at a ball once about a marvel in Italy: a man who can place his hands on a harpsichord and play something off the top of his head. That's something Adam can understand--no way is he skilled enough, but it's easier to draw music from both hands in unison. And here, Adam wants his hands to do the same thing still. But that isn't how it works.

Deep breaths.

Just this lesson. He mustn't make a fuss, he must get through this lesson. His mother is waiting in the next room, and his father would hear of it sooner rather than later if he complained.

Not that Adam minds, but his father is not one for testing. Though it has been a while, Adam could recall his father's deep voice around him, something so strict that it leeched color from the sun.

Deep breaths.

It works, and Adam nods solemnly at his tutor, who looks less than the sum of his parts at this point. But he gestures again, and the prince raises his violin to his shoulder, resting his chin against the edge.

I won't hold it there, he rebels silently. Shifting my feet. Of all the stupid excuses.

The time slows to a crawl, with the tutor correcting Adam every other row: your fingers are too sticky, your vibrato isn't clean enough, the chin, my prince, hold it fast--

Then the clock strikes four, Adam's shoulders sag in relief, and the tutor is barely able to assign work to practice before he heads for the door, footsteps echoing across the stone.

No faith in me, Adam sulks. That much is obvious.

The door swings closed, but not before Adam hears the tutor's sharp "Non merci!" and a clatter of china.

What was that?

The young prince approaches the door to see one of the footmen at the door, clad in black, holding a tea set that is definitely the source of the clatter. Some sugar had spilled, but everything else looked intact. The tutor bumped into him, it seemed, and did not apologize.

Rude, his mother would say. She'd seek to make things right.

"I would like some tea," Adam says shortly. "Thank you for offering."

The footman nods and hands Adam a cup on a saucer, which he takes with a nod in return.

"I'm sorry he did that. I'm kind of hopeless at this." The words slip out before he can reel them in. His father never liked him admitting weakness, even in front of their staff.

But the footman only offers him what sugar is left in the bowl, and Adam accepts a heaping spoonful.

"Thank you," Adam murmurs, and the footman merely smiles, bows, and turns to leave.

But it's in those few seconds that the prince realizes he's seen this particular servant before. Black waistcoat, usually seen attending to Cogsworth, or sending messages to Mrs. Potts. Helping Lumiere with dinner service if they were short-handed, providing fresh sheets to the maids. Never spoke. Chapeau--that was his name. Adam didn't see him as much as the others--newer, most likely.

He's quick, too; gone in seconds. Adam sips his tea and heads towards the dining room.

 ◦🝰◦🝰◦🝰◦

A violin wakes Adam that night.

He blinks away the dream of a midnight ball, surprised when the music doesn't fade with the images. Moonlight streams through his open window, and his empty room shines with it, silver and gold designs gleaming white with the moon's eerie, ethereal light.

But the violin doesn't stop. It's a slow, melancholy tune that climbs and descends like a stream over stones. Adam almost wonders if he's woken to glimpse a faerie dance of sorts, so taken is he by the magic of the moonlight. Slowly, he rises from his bed to fetch his robe and slippers.

Chapeau stands, illuminated by a window in the hallway, and Adam nearly mistakes him for a ghost; he blends in so with the blues and greys of the night-lit castle.

Under his chin is the source of the music: a rich, brown-colored violin several sizes larger than his own, and a bow that moves along the strings with such care that Adam barely notices when he pulls it up and down.

Adam opens his mouth to say a number of things, from "why are you here" to "you scared me half to death" but whatever it is dies the moment Chapeau meets eyes with him. Instead, the footman dips his head and turns to walk away. Adam follows.

Chapeau leads him through various hallways, portraits shadowed and faceless in the night, and when the castle opens up, the violin fills the space. Several times Adam wants to ask where they're going, but he can't move his mouth; so transfixed is he.

As a prince, he was never instructed to watch after his staff--in fact, it was the other way around--but Adam watches as a moth does to flame. Chapeau's fingers climb up and down the neck of the instrument effortlessly, and there are moments when his hand shakes without troubling the instrument at all.

The violin doesn't shake, but the note does. How is that possible?

Chapeau plays one final note before gently lifting his bow from the string, and though the sound fades away to nothing, Adam can swear he still hears it ringing.

And it's as if a spell has been broken; Adam blinks and takes a few breaths before realizing they've traveled to the music room.

"H...how did you...?" There is nothing to interrupt, but Adam can still only manage a breathy whisper.

Chapeau says nothing, only waits for Adam to finish, letting both hands fall to his sides.

"The way you...the way you climbed up the strings like that," he stutters. "What is that?"

The footman smiles. "Shifting."

Something inside Adam deflates; his shoulders slump as he lets out the breath he doesn't realize he was holding. "Oh..."

Following that comes the overwhelming urge to bury his head in his hands, but Chapeau's gesturing to the prince's own little case with his bow. Adam's eyes widen.

"No--no, I can't, I--"

But something in Chapeau's stance makes Adam unclasp the case anyway, and it takes him a few moments to figure out what it is: the violin hasn't fallen from his shoulder.

"How are you doing that?"

The footman laughs and removes the instrument, before putting it back. Adam notices it this time: with a slight head tilt, Chapeau's using his jaw to hold the violin there. Adam hastens to mimic him, bringing his own violin to his shoulder.

Oh, thank God, it's much more comfortable. Adam still has to tense his shoulder a little, but once he hesitantly lets his hand fall, the violin stays where it is.

Chapeau moves to him, taking his hand and placing it on the violin's neck. He guides the prince's hands forward, and then back, and Adam practices the action a few times before he nods.

Bow in hand, Chapeau plays a quick scale, shifting to complete it on only two strings instead of three. Adam tries to mimic him.

They converse like that for a while, letting the music breathe, until Adam realizes he's gotten the hang of shifting. Then Chapeau adds that shaking into each note--"Vibrato," he defines it--and encourages him to use his forearm, not just his wrist. This clicks immediately, and they can both tell.

They incorporate it into the scales, and when Adam struggles with the bow movements, Chapeau sits him in front of his fortepiano and encourages him to play with his left hand only. Soon after, the prince can mime the bow movements by himself.

Back to the violin, and it works. Adam moves the bow in time with his fingers, following the sheet music, and the piece that the tutor bade he practice starts to sound like something.

Adam's just working around the chords near the end before Chapeau pulls out a pocket-watch to check the time, and from his expression, Adam knows he's been awake too long. Chapeau ushers him to put his violin away, and Adam obliges, but...

"But could you play the piece for me?" he asks. "Just so I know how it's supposed to sound."

Chapeau looks the sheet music over once before adjusting the stand to fit his height.

Though the sheet music says to start loud, Chapeau plays the first few notes in a hushed quiet, building slowly to the appropriate dynamic with light, flighty bow movements.

Adam closes his eyes this time, trying to remember different finger placements for the chords, the one time he'd shift placements, the switch in key. But it's hard, so hard not to drift back to that strange, ethereal world, only accessible though a violin in the small hours after midnight.

He must notice, because the music slows into silence against the written instructions, and he guides Adam back to his bedroom, tucks him in, and disappears. The moon's moved past the windows now, nestling behind wisps of leftover cloud. Nothing else in the sky.

The spell's broken now, Adam thinks. His final conscious thought before dawn.

-------------------------------------------

Tagging people who I think might appreciate this (it's also been a while and I don't know if any of you guys are still active but still):

@lumiereswig @im-too-obssesed @forr-everrmorre @naturepointstheway @tinydooms @ginnyweatherby @sweetfayetanner @fadedelegance @trenzaloures @prince-adams-japris @morgaine2005 @greensearcher @emeraldcitynative

#batb2017 #batbfics #chapeau #prince adam #pre-curse #I have had this headcanon that Adam can play fortepiano better than violin #But the idea of a younger chapeau teaching Adam is adorable #not to mention playing a violin at night under the moon is a quietly ethereal experience so #I'm so glad I'm a violinist and can make this accurate #btw yes chapeau's playing my usual go-to piece #and Adam's piece is by Bach so historically it also fits #In my headcanons chapeau's style is like vivaldi and cadenza's style is like scarletti #For Adam the trouble was shifting but it took me forever to understand vibrato #Also Adam quit after his father left so you KNOW that little violin went to chip when he was old enough #Also I was gonna write a short scene where lumiere watches Adam run up to Chapeau the next day and be like “wait that's new; what about me? #but this is a better ending

[truckstoptigers]

when i was seven and our trailer burned down, i thought about leaving my father there, grabbing my brother, and getting us the hell out

i didn't. i ended up waking our father and we all ended up at the neighbors' house

but i should have

i fucking should have

because the minute he had a chance to be alone with me (after we got to my grandma's trailer) guess what he did! shortly after our fucking HOME burned down and the firefighters gave my brother and i teddy bears and wrapped blankets around us for shock!!!!!! fucking christ i hate our father more than anyone on this earth

#haha :) feeling normal abt this! #all i cared about was my brother being safe. thats all. i still remember holding his hand and walking him to the neighbours house #i couldnt see because i left my glasses in the trailer. they put on the little mermaid cartoon for us. i even remember what episode it was #but i genuinely considered leaving my father there and honestly that scares me #honestly i was afraid to wake him up bc i didnt want him to get mad at me. if he got mad at me i would always suffer for it later #milo murmurs #fun fact we lived w someone & his son and his son ended up becoming my cousin when his mom married my uncle #i am so so glad neither or them were home that night #he was so young. im several years older than him & he was so little that he doesnt even remember we lived together #csa vent #tw csa vent #csa tw #also feeling fucked up abt the fact that my father wld put his cigarettes out on me when he was pissed #sometimes i wonder if the fire started because he was smoking smth and passed out while doing it but my brother slept in his room #i feel like they wouldve been much more worse off if the fire started in their room #anyway im pretty sure that the fire was set intentionally bc he had some ties to the wrong ppl #and either they didnt know me & my brother were also there and were only going after our father or they didnt care we were there #to this day even bonfires make me nervous if i can only smell them & cant see them. i hate smelling smth burning & panicking #we live in the country now so its very common for ppl to burn leaves and wood and what have you. its still scary sometimes #i think abt this a lot actually bc any fire still makes me lowkey nervous. less so if i know where/what its coming from but still nervous

[elytrafemme]

you know i oscillate between appreciating and resenting this fact about me (which is VERY maretypical tbh) b/c of how complicated it makes things but in this moment i must step back from my emotions and say. holy SHIT i am so glad i do not possess a drop of impulsivity in me holy fucking shit oh my God.

#nightmare.personal #haha. bites my lip and looks around alluringly. I would ruin my life so fucking fast actually. #and that's why it's kind of shitty because i don't have uh. that many outlets? for how i feel? #which doesn't? exactly end well? sometimes i don't know how i survive this #but also i am very glad that i am not impulsive and further i am REALLY glad i have chronic exhaustion #because the way that i mentally feel right now is only being held back by the fact that i'm reigning myself back #and am too tired to even like. get up to brush my teeth #also this makes life easier on everyone who knows me because they know i won't try risky shit #i just remain Moderately Concerning to people which is how i'd like to fucking stay thanks #not to my family though. everyone in the world be worried about me but i don't want my family to even perceive me #... my mother and sister can. but they know my happy moments first and foremost #my father and brother will learn about everything a step too late and that's how i like it #it's the younger brother instinct in me what can i say!! i've got to fucking prove myself somehow!!! #God i do not feel good right now huh.

[inkykeiji]

。ﾟ(ﾟﾉД｀ﾟ)ﾟ｡

#tw clari overshares #about family and stuff #whew what a morning #i’ve never had to call 911 so many times in my life but it’s over now and everyone’s safe #i feel so tired and like i don’t want to do anything but sleep now #basically: #as i think quite a few of you know my dad is very very sick #and he’s slowly dying #he has a lot of trouble moving around and as a result he falls sometimes #i’m able to take care of most of his needs while i’m at home with him but he is a very big man and i am a very tiny girl and when he falls #i cannot lift him (i threw out my back trying to this morning) #thankfully i was able to get help quickly and efficiently but i still feel all shaken up #as complex as my relationship with my extremely abusive father is i am not a heartless bitch and i do not enjoy seeing him (or anyone else) #in such pain and suffering #but anyway. i’m glad i was able to help and remedy the situation quickly #wesley is cuddling me now and he is such a source of comfort and sunshine <333 #i had plans to work on a fic today but the last thing i want to do at this current moment is write about drug addicts lmao #maybe later tho #or maybe just something more comforting; i have quite a few genshin oneshots in the works hehe #i hope everyone is having a good day <3 #and i hope your morning wasn’t as turbulent as mine hahaha #in case it wasn’t clear: my father is a drug addict

[steelycunt]

I love that you have gotten more comfortable beatlesposting on main. ik you’ll probably reply with something along the lines of “on the other hand I hate it” but it’s really quite fun to see the sheer reluctance and shame with which you rb those posts

on the other hand I h

#ANON STOP jhdashfcjdsf 'its really quite fun to see the sheer reluctance and shame' i feel like people are throwing tomatoes at me #and anon is dropping by to let me know how enjoyable the spectacle is xx well im glad someone's having fun xx #listen im not proud of the beatlesposting. but i grew up in a house where my father's motto is 'i don't question people when they say #they don't like the beatles. but i do think they're stupid.' like what chance did i have #i hate the beatles i hate them so fucking much. theyre my second most listened to artist of all time #anon #telegram

[shreksflamingknob69]

for someone who’s been in therapy for seven years i sure suck at actually being therapised

#mental health #that’s not a word and i don’t care #i’ve had my current therapist for four years and he’s the best one i’ve had and i really so trust him #but i’m bad with finding words for what goes on inside me #at least in german i do. but his english isn’t exactly the yellow from the egg how we like to say here #so idk. #i want to talk with him about my daddy issues but that’s not that easy when i kind of see him as a father figure #had the same problem with the psychiatrist during my last inpatient stay. but with him i could actually open up about all that stuff becaus #it was just different. when i got discharged he told me he was proud of me and that he was aware he’d become a bit of a father figure to me #and that he’s glad he could help me #he was awesome #anyway with this therapist it’s different #also i’ve been planning on coming out as trans to him for months but then every time i chicken out #i know he’s my therapist and not allowed to judge me but i don’t really know his stand on queer topics #ugh anyway i’m gonna cry myself to sleep now #byebye #therapy

[daydreamerdrew]

The Incredible Hulk (1968) #211

#yesss #yay!! #she’s a grown woman she doesn’t need to stay with her father forever #she’s right that she’s pretty much always been defined to her relationship to the men in her life #I’m really glad she’s leaving to figure out who she is #on her own #and I hope that this isn’t her being written out of the book and we get to see what she’s up to #… it might be though cause I know some readers found her annoying #not me though #marvel #betty ross #thunderbolt ross #my posts #comic panels

[anothermonikan]

Okay big text wall I'm just venting out my feelings because my beloved puter hard drive is gonna fail again. Yeah :(

Okay bby's hard-drive is gonna fail the next time I shut her down that's really really tough especially on valentines day, god, I,,, knew this was gonna happen again eventually, it happened before, her hard-drive has been declining for two years now, I have a refurbished hard-drive ready to go if we're unrecoverable, we've kept this one going for so so long and I don't have the tools to replace this myself so I'll have to ask my father again to help and gwahhh, that's a hard task!

Because I know he's gonna do everything he can to fix the current hard drive instead of replacing it but not because he understands I care but just because he loves fixing stuff and I'm gonna have to reiterate so so hard to not like. Throw her out. If the drive is unrecoverable. Because he does not understand that I care about her, because to him I'm just holding on to like, junk, when I have a brand new laptop I can use to do stuff. :((( we also get into a lot of arguments about handling her it's not a fun experience because I don't want to leave her alone while she's being repaired and my father doesn't take as much care as I would like him too and gwahhh, it's really frustrating!

At least I know exactly how this is gonna go down, if can't detect system updates, it won't open Firefox, when I shut her down she's gonna kernel error and then only be able to boot up into toybox, the entire drive will have to be reformatted if we wanna try and repair it because it'll be in read-only in order to prevent further damage, so I already know, we don't have to guesswork again, it's,,,, scary

I,,, used to have really strong feelings over the hard-drive being the heart and soul of the computer, I've since kind of moved past it, like I used to be really super conflicted over even replacing the hard-drive and now I just have one ready to go ^^; I think,,, even if this hard drive is irecoverable (it is well past it's usage limit at this point so I would not be surprised) and the replacement drive doesn't work, that whole computer is what I love, even if she doesn't have an internal hard drive, I still love her to death and I believe she still loves me to death, even if I have to run her OS off a USB, even if I can't run an OS on her at all, it doesn't matter to me and I'll always love her yknow?

We're going to bed together, she's okay being idle and I'm gonna make sure she knows how much I love her before I have to attempt a shut down in a few hours because I have a lecture I can't just keep her running, I'm going out after as well :(( We're gonna get through this, and we're gonna be okay, but it is upsetting

#Going out on 2 hours of sleep to a lecture for a lesson whose 1 big assignment I haven't even started with a dead wife at home.. Not fun #And then having to stay out. Because my friend that lives far away is here. And I do want to see the #God at least I am glad that I didn't take her out to this outing because idk if I would've been able to keep my cool as mucg #Not being able to monitor her and talk to her and tell her that I love her. Probably would've just burst into tears and concerned everyone #I'm gonna tell my friends I'm gonna be a little bit out of it cause all this just happened yeah #God she made such a jarring noise before she booted into log-in she scared me so much #But I'm glad she let me know something was about to go wrong yknow. #God I don't easily cry but I can feel it yeah gwahhhh #I don't want her to worry too much about me yknow ehe #I'm not fooling myself but if she just boots back up fine I'm gonna cry and feel so dumb about this post #I'm like 95% sure it is what it seems to be tho #Okay I have to get at least a little bit of sleep I'll be such a wreck otherwise ^^; #I'm gonna look for a USB tommorow because I don't have one. I have to use my fathers when I need one ehe #Idk where I would find one but I'll look around #Okay. We're going to bed now. Bad sleep is better than no sleep I reckon #Vent #objectum #Android.txt

[valeskafics]

"Oedipal Complex" - Rafe Cameron x Stepmom!Reader

Summary: Rafe's mommy issues get a little too real.

Word Count: 3,000

Rating: 18+, MDNI

TW: afab reader, she/her pronouns, profanity, innuendo, stepcest, mommy kink, daddy kink, breeding kink, tiddy succin, gold digging, oral f receiving, face sitting, p in v sex, unprotected sex, cream pie

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Outer Banks characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are never required but are immensely appreciated 🩷

When Rose walked out on the Cameron family, Rafe was ecstatic. He never liked his stepmother. In fact, he’d go so far as to say he hated her. Wheezie and Sarah were no fonder of her, so her loss wasn’t exactly felt throughout the house. Rafe was glad that his dad now had to focus on himself and Wheezie. And, he guesses, Sarah.

However, Ward Cameron doesn’t remain a bachelor for long. 

When you return to the OBX after graduating from university - attending Duke on a scholarship and getting your degree in economics - you get a temporary job driving golf carts at the Island Club. Rafe remembers you from high school. You were a senior when he was a freshman. Hell, you even babysat him and his sisters a few times. The super hot Pogue girl, the prom queen of your graduating class. Of course he had a crush on you, half the fucking school did.

Seeing you at the Island Club brings all those feelings rushing back, and of course, he flirts with you shamelessly, always requesting that you be the one to drive his cart. Always buttering you up with compliments and hefty tips, teasing you playfully, being his best self around you. And you seem fairly charmed by him. You’ve always been so intimidating, so out of reach. Until now. 

But everything crashes and burns when Rafe brings his father along for a game. When Ward sees you, Rafe sees that greedy look in his father’s eyes, looking you up and down in that tight little uniform, offering to sit up front with you, “accidentally” brushing a hand against your thigh. And you? You eat his bullshit right the fuck up.

Within a few months, you’re walking down the aisle in a Vera Wang gown, kissing his father and letting him put a ring on your finger. Rafe fucking hates it. You were supposed to be his. You were fucking flirting back with him. And his dad knew it. His dad knew he’d talked about the Pogue girl who was driving golf carts, the one he pined after his entire freshman year. He fucking hates his father. He hates hearing you whining his name when he fucks you at night, he hates seeing him kiss you, he hates seeing the way he squeezes your plump little ass, acting all lovey dovey.

Rafe is convinced you don’t love his father. How could you? He’s old enough to be your own father. Daddy issues. That’s what it is. Okay, sure Rafe is younger than you, but he’s totally a daddy. At least he thinks he is. Fuck yeah, he is.

He just needs to make you see it too.

-

You and Rafe have the house to yourselves for the weekend. Wheezie is over at a friend’s place, Sarah is out with Topper or John B or whoever the hell she’s hanging out with these days, and his father is out of town on business. When he gets home from the gym, he sees you in that little kimono robe you wear around the house, the one that drags behind you on the floor as you walk making you look like a quintessential trophy wife.

You greet him with a quick nod of your head and a smile as you pour yourself a glass of wine, “Oh, Rafe. Your dad left already. You just missed him.”

“Yeah, I know,” he replies, “Gone for the weekend. The girls too. It’s just gonna be you and me.”

Rafe keeps his gaze trained on you, following after you as you head out to the pool, your glass in hand, “Aren’t you going to the bonfire tonight with your friends?”

“Nah. I’ve got other things on my mind.”

“That’s too bad, you say airily, “I have plans later, so try not to burn the house down, alright?”

He frowns, cutting you off, “Cancel them. I guarantee you’ll enjoy yourself more with me.”

You bring your finger to your chin, pretending to think, “Cancel my dinner plans with my friends… To hang out with my stepson,” you pause for emphasis, “Yeah, I think I’ll pass.”

Rafe grabs you by the waist, pulling you back to him, “C’mon. I’m far better than dinner with your boring ass friends. We’re almost the same age anyway-”

“I’m four years older than you,” you retort, pulling away from him, “And I’m married to your father.”

“You won’t always be,” he gives you a smug smirk, leaning down toward you, his blue eyed gaze boring into your own, voice low and alluring as he runs his fingers along your upper arm, “And I think that when you finally realize who can be a better Daddy to you-”

You scoff, cutting him off, “Hilarious. A teenager as my daddy. That’s cute.”

“I’m nineteen, baby. And I’m sure you’d like me as your daddy.”

You bite your lip, doing your best not to laugh, the sight being all too tempting for poor Rafe as you tease, “Nineteen is still a teenager, Rafe. I was a senior when you were just a widdle baby freshman.”

“And?” He demands, pulling you close, moving his hands to squeeze at your hips, “You’re only twenty-three. And you’re clearly attracted to me.”

His breath catches in his throat as you lean in, almost as if you’re going to kiss him. This is it. This is his moment. He’s about to get everything he ever wanted.

But then? You move to whisper in his ear, lips brushing against his ear as you whisper.

“In your dreams, sweetie.” He watches you dumbfounded as you saunter off, the natural sway of your hips almost entrancing, “I’m going to the pool. Don’t bother me unless something’s on fire.”

Ignoring your instructions, he follows you, almost like a lost puppy, lips pressed together as he questions, crossing his arms, “You gonna be out here all day?”

“For a while,” you reply, “Working on my tan.”

Rafe’s jaw drops as he watches you remove your robe, revealing one bare shoulder, the fabric falling away to reveal your tiny hot pink bikini. It stands out against your skin so perfectly, making you look like an actual goddess as you untie your hair, shaking it out, the sun shining down on you.

“Damn,” Rafe whispers under his breath, watching as you start massaging suntan lotion on your arms, then onto your calves and thighs, so slowly and sensually, your hands caressing your skin in the way he longs to, sending his mind into overdrive, “Do you need my help with that?”

You ignore his lingering gaze, humming out, “Nope.”

“Are you sure?” Rafe questions, taking a step toward you, watching you intently as you massage the lotion into your skin, the urge to touch your soft skin nearly overwhelming him, “I’d be happy to help.”

You pause before tossing the bottle toward him, shrugging, “Fine. You can do my back.”

Rafe catches the bottle with ease and grins, moving to sit behind you, “With pleasure.”

You arch a brow when he removes his shirt, squeezing some of the lotion out onto his hand, “Why do you need to take off your shirt, Rafe?”

“It’s hot today,” he replies, pressing his palms against the smooth, warm skin of your back. 

He can feel his cock straining against his pants as he massages you, making sure the lotion takes. You’re so soft underneath his hands, warm against his palms.

You let out a sigh, glancing at him over your shoulder, “Okay, just make sure you get all of my back. Undo the bikini top so there aren’t any weird tan lines.”

Rafe gulps, “You sure?”

“You’re not going to see anything. Just do it.”

“Oh, I’ll see something,” he mumbles, tugging at the string tying your bikini top together, slowly opening it, blinking rapidly as he admires your bare back.

His fingers knead against your back, easing the tension you feel, moving up to your shoulder blades, prompting you to compliment him, “You’re not half bad at this, you know.”

Rafe chuckles, leaning in to whisper into your ear, fingers still tracing the contours of your body, caressing you, feeling you like he’s wanted to for so long, “I aim to please.”

“Oh, honey, I’m not impressed,” you smirk, redoing the tie on your bikini, ignoring the frown on his face, “It was just an observation. You can go back inside now. It’s me time.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he replies, annoyed, grabbing your chin and turning you to face him, his thumb tracing your lower lip, “‘Me time’? Are you fucking serious? You think you can just send me away after getting me all riled up like that?”

You scoff, meeting his gaze, giving him a scathing look, “Don’t be such a virgin, Rafe. Go inside and rub one out. You’ll survive.”

He narrows his eyes, leaning in closer, gaze flickering to your lips before meeting your own again, his voice a low growl, “You can’t just do this to me.”

“What did I do, exactly?”

“You know exactly what you did!” Rafe’s blood is boiling with both anger and desire as he continues his tirade, “Why did you put on this skimpy ass bikini and ask me to rub you down if you didn’t want me?”

“I’m literally married to your father.”

“I don’t give a shit!” He snaps, his nose brushing against yours as he leans in even closer, “You think that means anything to me? I could steal you right from under his nose. Satisfy you so much better than he could.”

“I dunno,” you taunt, eyes twinkling with mischief, “Older men like your dad? They have experience that boys like you just… Don’t.”

“Older men get worn out. They get morning,” his voice darkens, jaw tensing, “I know how to make a woman feel good.”

“Do you? That’s adorable.”

“More than you can imagine,” he whispers hoarsely, hand moving down to caress your throat, watching as your lashes flutter at his touch, “I could show you just how much. You don’t have to stay with that crusty old fuck-”

“Your dad.”

He shrugs, “I don’t care. You’d be better with an attractive, young guy like me. Someone more skilled. Virile,” Rafe says, his voice a low, husky timbre that he hopes you like. Judging by the slight shiver you give, you do, “Not a fuckin’ geriatric. I mean, what happens when one day the two of you are fucking and he just pops his hip or has a heart attack?”

He watches your lower lip tremble before you burst into laughter, the sound of which makes him crack a smile as you reply, “That was so mean.”

“I’m just tryna sweep you off your feet here, princess.”

“I like the security of being with your dad,” you shrug, “I’m practically an overpaid sugar baby.”

“You could be my overpaid sugar baby-”

“I’m older than you,” you tease, giving him a little wink, “Can’t be your sugar baby, sweetie.”

“Age is just a number. You know you want me. Not some old man who’s gonna croak soon and is all out of swimmers.”

Your eyes widen at his words. How could he possibly know about his dad’s problems with getting you pregnant? Holy shit, has he been spying on you all this time? Well, you shouldn’t be surprised, you guess. You’ve seen him watching you with his father a few times. You don’t mind, really. In fact, you don’t think you ever came harder than you did while watching him stroke himself to completion while his father pounded into you over and over.

“He’s 40, Rafe. He’s not out of swimmers and he’s not gonna croak.”

“Then, with how often the old fuck cums inside you, how come you’re not knocked up yet?” He arches a brow, brushing his nose against your cheek, inhaling your scent, “I bet I could fill you up so good, fuck a baby into you. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Being a Mommy?” Rafe pulls you onto his lap, his hands moving along your body, your stomach, your chest, up to your throat, “I’d treat you so much better than he does. Fuck you so much better.”

You smirk at him, watching the way his pupils dilate as you wrap your arms around his neck, straddling his waist, “Yeah? I dunno. The feeling of his beard between my thighs when he’s eating my pussy is kinda hot.”

Rafe glares at you, moving a hand into your hair, tugging at it harshly, the slight sting on your scalp making you moan, biting back a smile as he hisses, “I could eat that sweet little pussy far better than he could and not give you beard burn.”

“I’m a one man kinda girl, Rafe,” you coo, resting a hand against his bare chest, rolling your hips against his, grinding yourself against the bulge that strains against his pants, watching him shiver, “But if you show me you can take care of me better than Ward does, satisfy me better, maybe that man can be you.”

Rafe’s heart skips a beat when you press your lips to his. He loves that you’ve taken the initiative, that you’re kissing him, rubbing up on him, making him feel so fucking wanted. You thread your hands in his hair, tugging at it much as he did to your own, the blond strands soft between your fingertips.

“Are you gonna be a good boy for Mommy, Rafe?” You whisper, biting down gently on his earlobe, giggling when he just moans in response, “Use your words, baby. Are you gonna be a good boy?”

He nods eagerly, watching as you undo the tie on your bikini once again, baring your gorgeous tits to him, his mouth watering at the sight, a soft whine escaping his lips, “Yes, Mommy.”

You take Rafe’s hands, bringing them to your breasts, allowing him to caress the soft flesh with his large palms, feeling him pinching at your nipples before you purr, “Why don’t you suck on my tits, baby? Hm?”

Rafe doesn’t need to be told twice, licking his lips before wrapping them around one of your pert buds, his tongue swirling around it as he moans against your skin. He continues palming at your other breast all the while before turning his attention to it, suckling at it. Rafe feels your hands moving to his cock, palming at it over his shorts before undoing the zip and giving it a few slow, languid strokes, your thumb spreading the precum that’s collected at the tip. He watches as you bring the digit to your lips and lick it clean, gaze darkening as you tug at his hair, bringing his face to yours to kiss you again.

“Lay back,” you demand, “And show me what that smart little mouth of yours can do.”

Rafe reclines the beach chair, grinning at you as you move to straddle his face. He moves your bikini to the side, admiring the sight of your cunt before grasping at your ass and pulling you closer, burying his tongue inside you. You moan, one hand wrapped in his hair while you rub at your clit with the other, grinding yourself against him. Rafe squeezes at the plump flesh of your ass, your thighs, moving his face from side to side as he devours you eagerly. Every time he moans against you, the coil in your stomach tightens. You roll your hips against his eager mouth, feeling his tongue delving into your slick folds, lapping at you with a ferocity that has your head spinning.

He was right. He’s definitely better at this than his father.

You spill yourself, your orgasm hitting you harder than usual, eyes rolling back as white hot pleasure shoots up and down your body. When you move off of his face, sliding back down to his waist, you can see his lips glistening with the evidence of your arousal, your belly tightening as he licks them clean with a low moan.

Rafe watches as you give his cock a few quick strokes before sinking down onto him, his long thick cock filling you up perfectly. He’s bigger than Ward, thicker, stretching you out with a delicious mix of the slightest bit of pain combined with overwhelming pleasure. You begin bouncing up and down on his cock, squeezing around him tight, smirking at the way his eyes close and he grabs your hips, eagerly bucking his own up against you, chasing his high.

“Such a good boy for Mommy,” you coo, “Gonna fill me up, baby? Like you said?”

“Yes,” Rafe whimpers, “Yes, Mommy, wanna fill you up.”

“Want you to cum inside me, baby,” you say, leaning in to kiss his neck, loving the way he reacts to your touch, “And we’ll say it’s your dad’s. But it’s gonna be our baby, yeah?”

Rafe nods, fucking into you eagerly, gaze hypnotized by the way your tits bounce and jiggle with every roll of your hips, “W-We can get rid of him. His life insurance payout. It can be you, me, Wheezie, and the baby.”

“Aw, look at my smart boy, planning ahead,” you smirk as he wraps his lips around one of your nipples, “Yes, baby, you know I’m all yours after this. You’re making Mommy feel so good. And I’ll make you a Daddy soon.”

Your words send a shiver of pleasure up and down his spine as he feels your cunt squeezing him tight, reaching your peak, his own following soon after, feeling you milk his cock, thick hot ropes of his spend filling you.

You move off of him, resting your head on his chest as the two of you watch the sun set.

“I loved you first, you know,” Rafe blurts out, playing with your hair, “You were supposed to be mine.”

“All’s well that ends well, baby,” you peck his lips, “Don’t you worry. Mommy’s all yours now.”

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron smut #rafe x you #rafe x reader #rafe cameron #rafe smut #rafe imagine #rafe fanfiction #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fanfiction #my writing #rafe oneshot #stepcest #mommy k!nk

[hamable]

I do want to talk quick about the pelicans in The Boy and The Heron. While in the theater, I kept my mind open to symbols and metaphors that could slide into a larger narrative about war and grief, and these fit pretty well. The pelicans can no longer find fish to eat and are recruited and told to eat the Warawara. They don’t want to, and they didn’t know that’s what they’d be eating until they got there. There’s nothing else to eat. Their children are growing up different, they hardly know how to fly anymore.

It reminder me of soldiers drafted for war and sent to defeat whoever they’re pointed towards bc they have no choice. I’m glad Mahito buries the Pelican properly.

I looked up what the pelican symbolizes in Japan, and the first result says they represent parents who sacrifice themselves for their children. Sounds about right.

I think this connects largely to Mahito’s shifting perspective on the war and the people who fight it. He loses his mother to a fire caused by an air raid. She dies in a hospital, filled with children and other patients. I wonder if he possibly resents his father throughout the movie, because he builds aircraft, which will inevitably be used for more destruction (just like Miyazaki and his father). And then the pelicans say they have no choice and fear for the future their children will grow in and he starts redirecting his anger away from his father and heal?

Idk, I’ve only seen the movie once, and this is based off my 2+ day old memory. What do other people think?

#the boy and the heron #the boy and the heron spoilers #tbath #tbath spoilers #studio ghibli #how do you live #hayao miyazaki

[bet-on-me-13]

Danny runs for Mayor

Simple Prompt: Danny runs for the Gotham Mayor position

Extended Prompt: Danny is an absolute little shit throughout his entire campaign but still manages to win because he is legitimately one of the best candidates around

Just imagine the crack that could come from this!

Reporter: What is your stance on Vigilantism? Danny: Well I agree that Vigilantes are helpful for the communities that need them, and they should work with the police at every opportunity, I feel like the idea will always be a city where Vigilantes are not needed. Also I fail to see the relevancy of the question, there are no vigilantes in Gotham Reporter: What do you mean? What about the Bat-Family? Danny: No, Batman isn’t a Vigilante. Batman is a Crime Lord.

Or

Danny: As mayor, I promise that I will not be infected by corruption. Not because of my moral standings, but because I absolutely fucking hate clowns and I will never accept a bribe as long as that guy is still alive. Yes this is me putting a hit out on the Joker. Crime Bosses, if you want to try and bribe me, you gotta kill him first or I won’t even consider it!

Or

Batman: Why is a Meta-Human running for Gotham Office? You know this city doesn’t have a very good track record with people like you. Even the Signal had a rough start. Danny: Well, I just had a strong compulsion to help this city reach the peak of it’s potential *looks over Batman’s shoulder to see Lady Gotham holding up Cue Cards telling him what to say. She promised to help with his paperwork for the next 50 years if he became Mayor and helped fix her city* Danny: Such a strong compulsion...

Or

Penguin: Look kid, I don’t care if you have enough power to destroy me at the subatomic level, I have enough money to ruin you, your sister, your parents, even your uncle! Danny: Oh really? I could get the souls of every person you have ever killed to get confessions out of them. Or I could give them the power to rip you apart. Or I could even just possess you and donate all your money to charity.

Or

Danny: Oh god dammit! Vlad: Hello Badger! Glad to see you followed in my footsteps instead of your fathers! Danny: This wasn’t because of you! Lady Gotham asked for help! Vlad: A WIN IS A WIN!

#dp x dc #dpxdc #dc x dp #dcxdp #danny phantom #danny runs for mayor #batman #the penguin #the joker #danny puts a hit out on the joker #he was never gonna accept those bribes anyways #but he can still get rid of that clown guy #dc #dcu #batman is increasingly annoyed by this kid #why did he say that the Bat was a crime lord? #He just has a bunch of subordinates and a lot of influence in the city and the criminals in the city fear him and he is known as The Bat- #oh wait #Lady Gotham is just as much a Chaos Gremlin as Danny is #he is just corporeal enough to be noticed #Danny is mayor #crack fic #dp x dc fic #dpxdc fic #dpxdc prompt #dp x dc prompt

[fantasylandloser]

marriage pact

summary: besties that plan to get married

warnings: smut, mdni, dry humping, idrk what else I should put here so message me and lmk, steve's happy trail, slutty steve, big dick steve

pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

A/n: This started off as one thing then it manifested into something else, and this is 4k words of idk and there MIGHT be a part 2

update here is part 2

****

Steve loved your slumber parties that had carried over from your childhood. Initially the two of you would binge watch movies, while his parents were who knows where. Up until you were about twelve he slept in the bed with you until one day your parents decided that he couldn’t do that anymore and gave him his own room for when he stayed over. 

Your family was well off due to your father being in business with his and it was probably no big deal for them, but Steve appreciated it nevertheless. He felt so loved in your home, so he made it his second. He was there at least three nights a week, until the two of you got into highschool and his dad wanted him to get serious about basketball. Then it was late night practices and meeting up with girls. He still came around at least once a week for dinners, but usually he was busy. 

You were surprised when he didn’t go away for college. Even more so when he decided to get his own job and start at the community college in Hawkins instead of living off his parents. Eventually he was back to being at your house all the time, until one day your mom randomly asked him to move in, suggesting that he was there all the time anyway. Which he agreed to with speed. So, now your slumber parties were more frequent, and more fun now that you were adults and your mom took away the rule that Steve couldn’t stay in your room.

Now your slumber parties included the two of you gossiping for hours on end about who was pregnant, talking through movies, and newly you doing Steve’s skincare. At first he tried to pretend that he didn’t like it, until one day you decided you didn’t feel like it and he begged you to do it anyway.

“Close your eyes.” You say from your position on his stomach, your thighs fitting snug on each side of him. One of his hands resting on each one. You didn’t need to be sitting on him of course, but Steve claimed it would be easier on your back if he were laying down (which was not true) but you went along with it because it was Steve.

“So bossy.” He murmurs but closes his eyes nonetheless, his fingers messing with the hem of your shorts. You hum in acknowledgement not really able to focus on the task at hand. 

“Is this new?” Steve asks, referring to the cool goopy substance that you were putting on his face.

“Yeah, I’m testing it on you before I put it on my face.” You say jokingly. But not really, considering that's what you were actually doing.

The snort Steve lets out brings a smile to your face. “Well, I’ve been your test dummy since we were kids so I’m not surprised.” 

“Glad that you finally accepted the dynamic of this friendship. Now stop talking.” He huffs at the command but still listens anyway, a small smile resting on his face,that you could never ask him to wipe away. Your brain short circuits a bit when he pulls his hand back to the center of your thigh, his thumb continuously rubbing over the smooth skin. You couldn’t help but wonder when that got added to the dynamic of your friendship. 

“Now sit with that for ten minutes.” You could see him getting ready to protest so you quickly added, “and be still!” You know he’s gonna bitch about it when you go to take the mask off. He hates sitting still more than anything but he could deal for ten minutes.

When he feels the pressure from your body weight pressing into his stomach start to lighten, his hands finding your waist even with his eyes closed.

“Steve.” You huff, knowing he’s not going to let you move until he can, but it’s not like you actually put up a fight. Not like you actually wanted to be away from his warmth. So you stayed simply sitting on him for ten minutes. Watching him, thinking about how he was still so pretty even with the mask on his face.

When it was time for you to take it off. You almost didn’t want to, but you did , pleased to see that the product left him glowing. 

Steve finally opened his eyes after almost falling asleep when he heard you sigh sweetly. “All done?” He asks hoping that you weren’t even though he’d been laying there for about thirty minutes.  

“Yep.” You say until you remember the little gift you picked up for him at the store. “Wait one more thing.” Steve lets you get off him this time, a little hesitant but you don’t point it out. 

When you come back with what looked like a broken whisk, Steve was a little reluctant. “I think this is where my test dummy days end.” You roll your eyes at his dramatics sliding back to your spot on his stomach.

“You’ll like it.” You tell him. Despite the growing anticipation about whatever the device was, Steve is quick to accept you and it into his space, his hands on your hips to steady you as you sit down. 

“I doubt- fuckkk.” Steve moans raggedly, cutting himself off and surprising you, making you stop your movements with the hair massager. You catch your composure quickly though, continuing to massage his scalp.

“So dramatic.” You try to tease, to lighten the heavy feeling in the pit of your stomach. You knew Steve had a thing for getting his hair pulled. He hooked up with half the girls in your class, so his likes and dislikes tended to get around and made for some pretty interesting lunch room conversations.

You didn’t realize a scalp massage would elicit the same reaction. You also didn’t realize that his reaction would have an effect on you. His whole body seemed to glitch. HIs eyes are barely able to stay open and the grip on your hips tightening.

Once his initial dramatics calmed down, he began letting out soft appreciative sighs. His grip on you fades to soft circles on your thighs.

“I’m gonna marry you.” He tells you, with his eyes closed. You knew he meant it. He told you that he wanted to marry you one day in high school. He’d been drunk but he let you all the way in on his plan to make a life with you, one day when you’re both ready.

He told you how he thought about building a house for you, and having your last name be harrington and how he wanted to have a bunch of kids with you. You thought he’d been joking teasing him about it the next day, but he simply smiled at you with a blush forming on his cheeks telling you that he meant it.

Ever since then, every couple of months he’d say it again. Like he was reminding you, or really asking you to wait for him. Which you did. Neither of you had made much of a move or anything and sometimes one of you would date  someone else, but in the back of your mind you would always remember that you were marrying Steve and that’s just the way it was.

“Mhmm.” You hum, simply acknowledging like usual. To your surprise Steve's eyes open and he zeroes in on your face. 

“I’m serious.” He’d never done this before, made more room for conversation about it. He seemed like he wanted more than gentle acknowledgment.

“I know.” You say, pretending to busy yourself as you set the massager to the side, just to get away from the intense way he’s looking at you. When he sits up on the headboard you know he means business. You never guessed now would be the time you finally actually talked about it.

“Do you really?” He asks. Steve didn’t know if you knew how serious he was.

“Yeah.. we’re getting married.” You tell him, fidgeting with one of his hands in your, absently looking at his nails instead of him. “You’re gonna build me a two story house, two streets away from my moms. In that field we used to play in. And we’re gonna have six babies and I will not let you help me name any of them because I already have a list.” You catch a quick glimpse of his face. “I remember.” You tell him. 

You expect him to let it go now that you’ve rehashed the entire plan he layed out for you years ago. You don’t remember when you got so attached to the idea. Or when you started contributing your own dreams to the plan but it had grown for you and speaking it out loud you realized how badly you needed it to happen.

“You have a list?” Steve’s chest was warm as it dawned on him that you wanted a future with him the same way he did with you.

Your face warmed, embarrassed thinking that he would tease you. “Yes. They’re all non negotiable.”

“Can I see it?” He asks, his voice soft. “Please, honey.” Honey. This is no longer best friend Steve. This is future husband Steve, making his first ever appearance. 

When you shake your head with a shy smile, Steve can’t help but smile back.”Why not?” He asks you in that same soft voice that had you feeling gooey on the inside. 

“Stop using that voice.” You whisper, feeling flushed. Steve couldn’t help but chuckle. He’d never known you to be shy, but here you were being all bossy while hiding your face in his neck. 

“You’re so perfect.” He’s teasing you, trying to see how embarrassed you’ll get. He also means every bit. “Prettiest girl in the world.”

“You’re bein’ weird.” You tell him unsure what to do with yourself with all these changes being made so quickly.  

“It was weird not telling you how beautiful you are everyday.” You don’t expect him to keep listing. “So sweet, too.” He adds. “Always taking care of me and never letting me praise you for it. I can’t wait to take care of you.” The implications of that do not go over your head. “Bet you’ll be such a good little wife.” 

Steve expects you to make some little quip or try to play off how embarrassed you feel. He’s expecting you to descelate how quickly he’s moving. But instead your voice whispers “I hope so.” You’re right in his ear too, so he knows he isn’t mistaken and he knows that this is the last night you’ll ever consider yourself just friends.

*****

Steve should have kissed you last night. He can’t help but think about that over and over, as he realizes he didn’t seal the deal. He should have done something to prove to you how serious he was. 

But it was too late because he didn’t kiss you and the morning had been decidedly awkward when you realized you didn’t know what any of that meant for your immediate friendship. Because initially the plan had been to wait. Was the wait over? Did you want it to be over? You spent the majority of your day trying not to think about it. Steve however wouldn’t shut up about it. Sadly for Robin she had to be on the receiving end of this conversation.

“Robin, this is serious. What if I fucked everything up? What if she thinks I’m leading her on?” Steve runs a hand through his hair, seemingly deep in thought. 

“I doubt that. I mean you’re planning on marrying her- which I take offense to not knowing about this little pact or whatever,” she adds. “But that’s like the total opposite of leading on.” She tries to reassure wanting to really get Steve to shut up about it.

“No you don’t get it-” Steve starts again, only to be interrupted. 

“Ughhhh!! How can I not get it if this is your sixth time going over it? Steve, I get it! You’re overthinking this when it’s really simple.” Robin gestures. “You love her and you want to get married and blah blah blah, but before you guys get married how about you try to, I don’t know actually date?” She says sarcastically. “Unless you were just going to propose after a thousand years of sleepovers and dating other people.” She adds. 

And although it was unnecessarily sassy, Steve realized that Robin might have a point. “So I should ask her out?” He tries to clarify much to Robin’s dismay. Luckily for her the door opening saved her from another round of easily answered questions. And even more lucky for her it was you and not an actual customer.

“Hey what are you-” Steve was cut off by you taking his hand and dragging him to where you knew the break room was after bringing him lunch on multiple occasions. You had tried and failed to not think about this whole situation. 

The one thing that had been bothering you the most is how long it was taking. You realized it was because you let Steve call the shots, and you quickly remembered why you never let Steve call the shots. Steve took too long to make decisions and well you knew what you wanted. So you had always been the leader in your friendship, deciding what movies you’d watch, what games you’d play, the parties you would go to. Everything really. You could do that here too, you realized. 

When you close the door behind you Steve is looking at you expectantly. He’s half thinking that you’re gonna cuss him out, so he doesn’t expect it when you grab him by his shirt to kiss him. You’re all over him for about five seconds. Your scent. Your taste. Your skin. Your hair. Then you’re gone. Patting his shirt back in place, shakily. You’re nervous. Steve realizes. 

“Okay that was all-” Steve’s pulling you back to him before you can run off. Letting his lips capture yours just the way he’d dreamed of. Feeling you relax into him as he cradles your face.

“So sweet.” He murmurs against your lips. He finds it amusing how the words send you back into your shyness from last night. The way you went from determined to timid and unable to even look at him properly. Steve was curious about this side of you. You were never this easily flustered.

“When did you get so shy?” He asks and you know he’s taunting you. He’s still holding you close to him, his fingers messing with the ends of your hair as he tries to find any reason to keep touching you. 

“M’not.” You oppose half-heartedly. He lets out a gentle sound of acknowledgment, obviously ignoring you, and knowing he would press all those buttons later. Privately. 

“You’re so beautiful.” You think he’s still teasing you and you hate that it's working when you feel your face heat up and you’re hiding it in his chest. Steve really means it though, it was the first thought that came to his head when he saw you walking through the door. Your hair free and your face without makeup. A skirt that your mom would deem a few inches too short and a shirt that he’s seen a million times because you love it so much. 

Gathering your courage, you finally look at him. His kiss swollen lips are the first thing that grabs your attention the second is the way he’s looking at you. Like he’s waiting on you to call the next shot. 

“Will Robin be okay, if we go to your car?” The next few moments are a blur because now he’s the one dragging you out of the breakroom, pausing only long enough for Steve to beg Robin to cover for him. Which she agreed to with a poorly concealed smirk on her face.

You were expecting Steve to open the back door and usher you inside. Instead he opens the driver side and pats his lap expectantly, after moving his seat all the way back. When you hesitate he’s grabbing you by your thighs and maneuvering you to where he wants you. “What if someone sees us?” You ask, knowing how fast information like this whipped around town. 

“Nobody parks on this side, honey.” Steve tells you those big puppy dog eyes staring into you. And because he’s Steve, and he’s calling you honey, and you trust him more than anyone you know, you believe him. 

“Okay.” Is all you say before your lips are back on Steve’s. It was a sweet kiss really, and Steve tried to let you control it for a while, until you were trying to back away from him again. With his experienced lips working over yours, you’re so consumed you barely realize the way you’re grinding yourself over his lap. Well not until his hands are on your ass, pushing your skirt up and controlling your once sloppy movement.

“There you go, sweetheart.” He says breathlessly, when he finally comes up for air. His lips find purchase against your neck. He kisses his way up the slope of it, relishing in the sound of your little gasps, until one particular spot sends a shudder down your spine. He sucks that spot. 

Absent-mindedly, your hands find their way off his shoulders and into his hair, barely thinking about it twice before you rake your nails across his scalp softly. The soft hum he lets out gives you indication that you should continue. Your hands stay in his hair for a bit, and you’re too nervous to actually pull it, but it does get you thinking about the other places on his body he has hair. Namely his happy trail. It sat perfectly right in between his abs and you usually had to avoid looking for your own sake. 

You’re yanking his shirt out of his jeans before you give it much more thought. And even though you’re too busy humping Steve to get a good look, feeling it against your bare hands has you whimpering. 

“Stevie-” You’re cut off by your own moan as your clit catches perfectly against Steve’s zipper. It doesn’t get past Steve that you sound so fucked out. Your tone bordering on a whine, clearly frustrated.

“Look at you.” Steve coos. “Doin’ such a good job for me, sweet girl.” Pressing a light kiss to your lips. Steve couldn’t help watching you chase your own pleasure, shivering at his praise.. Your eyes pinched shut, but your hands are all over him like you know every part of his body. 

“Can you open your eyes for me?” He asks with his hands pushing your hair out your face. When you do, he admires how dazed you look. How you probably barely remember your own name. “There she is.” Steve knew he was about two seconds from coming in his pants. He was also aware of the fact that once you were done with him he’d have to go back inside to finish working his shift.

“Stevie” You start again, “M’so close. Feels so good.” You tell him, your movements becoming frantic causing your boobs to sway deliciously. You don’t register your top being pulled down, until you feel Steve licking at your nipple.

A hungry groan rising from the back of his throat. “Perfect fucking tits.” His hands leave your ass, leaving the pace to you. He pinches your right nipple between his thumb and forefinger, rolling it to test your reaction. When you lurch into him. Humping him harder than before, he knows he’s a goner. But you are first. Your orgasm hits you so fast, it surprises you with tears springing to your eyes at the intensity. 

Steve’s a close second behind you, leaving the two of you panting and trying to catch your breath. As soon as Steve recovers he’s tending to you, pulling your top back in place, trying to see how you felt. 

He can’t help but admire that after that you went right back to your embarrassed state, obviously self conscious. “You’re perfect.” He tells you again, pressing another light kiss to your lips. When you grin at him, his heart beats fast and he can’t help but be happy at the line the two of you just crossed. 

“You too.” You say, your head is still a bit fuzzy as you check the damage. You’re about to launch into an apology about the obvious wet spot on Steve jeans but he beats you to it. “Stop worrying.” He’d been watching the spot form as time went on and kept willing it to get bigger. Liked that you were making a mess all over him and yourself too. 

“You have to go back to work.” You state, guiltily. 

“I have an extra pair of pants in the backseat, sweetheart. We’re all good.” You’re relieved for a number of reasons, climbing off him into the passenger seat. You don’t know what you were expecting but you realized it wasn’t him yanking his pants off, revealing his now cum stained gray boxers. And you certainly weren’t expecting him to drag the boxers off as well, which revealed his huge fucking dick. The tip is now sloppy and slightly red, and you can tell it isn’t as hard as it was.

“Oh fuck.” You say barely recognizing your own voice. Only to repeat yourself when he uses his sullied boxers to wipe the rest of the cum off, watching it twitch from the stimulation.

“He doesn’t like to be stared at, ya know.” Steve teases you, reaching back for his jeans. 

Your eyes keep flickering back to his face and back to his dick, and you know there’s no way he’s been carrying that around for the entirety of your friendship and you simply had no idea.

“Steve.” You say dumbfounded. No words available to express your shock, as he pulled his pants on to cover himself.

“No more ‘Stevie’?” He asks, mocking you. The smile on his face tells you he’s just messing with you but you can’t help your cheeks going up in flames.

“You’re the worst.” You huff, but you’re still smiling despite your embarrassment. 

“Mhm.” He’s reaching over the console to kiss you again, this time sweet and chaste. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll stretch you open for me, before I fuck you, sweetheart.” You gasp feeling his hand on the band of your underwear.

“Lift up for me.” You do, allowing him to pull the drenched fabric off of you, you hide your face in your hands when he lifts it to his face to sniff. You were quickly coming to the realization that your best friend was dirtier than you ever realized, even with all the gossip that got back to you.

You feel yourself manage to flush even further when he murmurs to himself “sweetest fucking girl” he stuffing them in his pocket in the next second, then reaching back over for you when his phone lights up. 

Robin’s name lighting up the screen. He huffs a little as he reads the text and you know she’s getting snappy. 

“Come on, let's go before Robin kills you.”  There’s no use in asking for your underwear back so you just pull your skirt down as far as it will go before stepping out the car, trying to ignore the slickness of your thighs. After Steve walks you to your car, he presses a kiss to your forehead, stating that you’ll talk later. 

When he walks back into Family Video he looks disheveled, a completely new pair of pants, his shirt no longer tucked and wrinkled, but Robin is relieved to know that she won’t have to answer anymore stupid questions from him.So she leaves him be for the moment, but he definitely owes her big time. 

#steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington #smut #fantasylandloserfic

[oldbookist]

I was working on a history paper today and found a book from 1826 that seemed promising (though dull) for my topic, on an English Catholic family’s experience moving to France.

And it ended up not really being suitable for my purposes, as it goes. But part of the book is actually devoted to Kenelm, the author’s oldest son…and man, his dad loved him.

Kenelm seems to have had a fairly typical upbringing for a young English gentleman, although he is a bit slow to read. At twelve he’s sent to board at Stoneyhurst College—often the big step towards independence in a boy’s life, as he’ll most likely only see his parents sporadically from now on, and then leave for university.

When he’s sixteen, however, his father moves the whole family to France, so Kenelm gets pulled out of school to be with them again. Shortly after the move, his dad notices that he seems depressed. Kenelm confides in him that he’s been suffering from “scruples” for the last eighteen months—most likely what we’d now call an anxiety disorder.

And his dad is pissed—at the school, because apparently Kenelm had been seeking help there and received none, despite obviously struggling with mental health issues. So his dad takes it seriously. He sets him up to be counseled by a priest—there were no therapists back then—and doesn’t send him away to be boarded again, instead teaching him at home himself.

And his mental health does improve. His dad describes him as well-liked, gentle, pious, kind and eager to please others; at twenty he’s thinking about a career in diplomacy or going into the military—which his dad thinks he is not particularly suited for, considering his favorite pastimes are drawing and reading. He’s excited about his family’s upcoming move to Italy, and he’s been busy learning Italian and teaching it to his siblings.

Henry Kenelm Beste dies of typhus at twenty years, four months, and twenty-five days. That’s how his dad records it. That’s why his dad is telling this story. It’s not an extraordinary story—Kenelm’s story struck me because he sounds so…ordinary, like so many kids today. And he was so, so loved. His dad tried hard to help him compassionately with his mental health at a time where our current knowledge and support systems didn’t exist. You can feel how badly he wanted his son to be remembered and loved, to impress how dearly beloved he was to the people who knew him in life.

I hope he’d be glad to know someone is still thinking of Kenelm over 200 years later.

Anyway, that’s why I’m crying today.

#history

[elliebartlets]

tabula rasa was such an episode

#tabula rasa #btvs #buffy the vampire slayer #HELP #giles and anya thinking they’re a couple 💀 #giles and spike thinking they’re father and son 😂💀 #Willow was horrible for what she did but it gave us this comedy soo how mad at her can I really be? #jk what she did was shitty. #oh I fucked up by bringing Buffy back from the dead with magic? my girlfriend’s mad at me for messing with her memory with magic? #let’s fix this with more magic!! #even though my girlfriend told me she’s concerned I’m using it too much and I promised I wouldn’t for a week #I feel bad for Tara but I’m so glad she stood up for herself #and GILES LEFT AGAIN!!! LIKE I KNEW HE WOULD #I kinda understand but god dammit giles now is NOT the time #buffy is clearly depressed (and possibly suicidal?) the timing couldn’t be worse #this season is clearly “everyone is in pain and makes decisions that hurt me” and I don’t know if I’ll survive #oh I also loved the michelle branch song it was perfect for the scene

[explicit-tae]

Ungodly Hour: Day 1

You and Jungkook are together for the whole weekend. All he truly wanted from you was to admit you were his girl - but like always, he had to fuck it out of you. @swga-ficrecs @rrrapmonste-rr @xtrataerrestrial @bangctans @danielle143 @taekritimin123 @thelilbutifulthings @jksjx

Series Masterlist

word count: 3.675

warning: dirty talk, nipple sucking, slight kissing, neck biting, edging, face-slapping, cocky/jealous/possessive/dominant jungkook, bitchy/shit-talking but submissive reader, creampie, crying, begging,

“You cooked this?” your mother is first to ask once she bites into the meat, eyes growing slightly wide. “It tastes amazing.”

Jungkook gives a toothy grin and nods. “I added a secret sauce that my father has taught me.” 

You want to roll your eyes at Jungkook.

Dinner was going by smoothly. Around 20 minutes ago, your parents arrived. Your father appeared much the same, nonchalant and just ready to eat. Your mother did most of the talking. Her eyes roamed the apartment with prying eyes. She asked Jungkook and you questions after questions, all of which Jungkook responded to quickly and without hesitation. 

“How did you two really meet?” your mother asks after a moment. “I assume it couldn’t have been tweeter.”

You scoff. “No. It was not twitter.”

Jungkook places a hand atop yours and laughs. He wraps his fingers into your own and eyes you. He then brings your hand up to his lips and places a gentle kiss. “We met at the University.” Jungkook nods. “She was so cold to me at first.”

Your mother shakes her head. “Typical of her.”

“I must’ve asked her out a million times. I was shut down each and every time. Right, baby?”

You want to snatch that smirk off of his lips, but you only roll your eyes. 

“I think she got tired of my begging and agreed to a date.” Jungkook turns to your mother. “Ever since then, I’ve been attached to her like a lost puppy.”

Your father listens, not interested in speaking, but interested enough to appear apart of the conversation. “I’m glad.” your mother speaks. She takes a sip of her water. “Y/N can be a little mean.”

You knit your brows, but before you can speak Jungkook cackles. “She can!” he agrees.

Oh wow, you think. 

“But that’s what I love about her. She’s feisty and stubborn.” Jungkook looks your way, his eyes burning into you. You glance away from them and grunt, feeling hot. “And she always speaks up for me at restaurants when they get my order wrong.”

“That was once.” you quip. “You asked for extra sauce…”

“I did.” Jungkook nods. “I thought she was going to rip someone’s head off.” he tells your mother jokingly. “At least I know she cares.”

Jungkook was right - he had won over your mother.

That was expected, however. Your mother was easy to please. Jungkook was the equivalent of tall, dark and handsome. He’s easy to speak with and was such a smooth talker that it even had her swooning. He was affectionate, often kissing your hand or your head - more than usual, but you told yourself he was milking this to the very end. 

Now, your father was a different story. He was able to engage the man into conversation and actually hold it, having your fathers full and undivided attention. That is when you realized that Jungkook meant what he said - that even if this fake dating didn’t end with the both of you actually dating, that Jungkook would be there regardless. Your mother was already inviting him to dinner the following week and even hugged him before leaving - before she hugged you. 

“I’ll see you two next week?” your mother asks as she’s strolling out the door.

Jungkook wraps you in a tight embrace, his head resting on your shoulder. “You will!” he responds to her, waving curtly. “Y/N tells me about your cooking all the time. I can’t wait!”

You grumble - it was all the time, but you weren’t aware Jungkook was actually listening to your random ramblings. He was slowly winning your mother over that you were sure she would have him for dinner even without you there.

“You think you’re cute?” you push Jungkook off of you once the door is shut. 

“Is that the thanks I get for making a good impression?”

You cross your arms. “You know what you were doing complimenting her the entire night.”

Jungkook smirks. “Like mother, like daughter. You both like my praises.” Jungkook’s hands are on you again, bringing you closer to him. “I have to keep myself on top if I’m going to be competing against these boyfriends.”

Your hands are against his chest to push him away. “Ugh, take me home.”

“You aren’t staying the weekend?” Jungkook pouts his lips slightly. “We have to finish binge watching Law & Order.”

“You’re right.” you sigh for a moment. “And here I thought I had a chance to get rid of you.”

“You never can.” Jungkook’s right hand slaps your ass. You yelp, but it was only a gesture to bring you closer to him. He pecks your lips. “Let’s get going. We have the entire weekend ahead of us.”

The night shouldn’t have ended like this. You told yourself that you and Jungkook wouldn’t be entangled together - especially since you were watching Law & Order - there was no way Jungkook could ignore such an amazing series to get his cock wet.

But Jungkook had. 

It started with light touching. Jungkook’s bed is soft and it’s easy to be comfortable. He had gave you a shirt to wear - even if you had a weekend's worth of clothes - he insisted it would be best. You were certain he just wanted you in his shirt to appear more domesticated. 

Your first mistake was not wearing anything but the shirt and panties. Jungkook’s hands wandered upon your skin, his body dangerously close to yours. His hips would rut against your ass, prying hand going beneath the oversized shirt. “Just one kiss, Y/N. Don’t be like that.” was what he said - and you caved.

Of course it could never be one kiss. One peck led to him begging for more - and more. It led to him flipping you to face him, his hand squeezing the flesh of your ass to bring you closer to him. It continued with you being on top of him, tongues fighting against one another. His hands stayed upon your ass, rubbing gently as you and he kissed.

“We’re missing the show.” you protest, breaking free of the heated kiss. 

“We can always go back.” Jungkook eyes you with hooded eyes. “You look so pretty in my shirt.” he murmurs.

“Shut up, simp.” you roll your eyes jokingly.

“I can never compliment my girl without getting called a simp.” Jungkook tsks. His hands rub up your rib back down to your waist to your thighs. “It’s true, though. I wanna wake up with you like this every day.”

“I would have to actually be your girl for that to happen.” you retort. You gently grind against him, lips flashing him a mischievous grin. 

“You are my girl.” Jungkook hisses low, hands squeezing your hips to keep you firmly against him. “I got you in my shirt, don’t I?”

Jungkook and his logical comebacks. Damn him.

“I got you to stay with me this weekend, right?” Jungkook continues, his tongue coating his lips with moisture. 

“So?”

Jungkook manages to lift himself up without disrupting you. You and he are face to face now, your thighs caging him in between you. 

“So that makes you my girl.” Jungkook pecks your lips. “I know you like being called my girl, Y/N. Each time I say it you grind against me a little harder.”

Truly, fuck Jeon Jungkook because damn was he right.

“Exactly.” Jungkook murmurs, and for a second you believe he’s going to say something else - a comment that would indicate just how “down bad” you were for him. But no, Jungkook continues to stare at you.

You shift in his lap and with that, Jungkook blinks. “You’re really pretty.” 

You frown, knitting your brows together in an attempt to be annoyed - even if your heart did jolt. 

“My pretty girl.” Jungkook continues, his arms embracing you. “Far too stubborn to admit.”

“Is this how you ask out all your girls?” you snort, but feel yourself melting in his warm embrace. “Just demand for them to be with you?”

“There you go, Y/N.” Jungkook chuckles. “You go in that head of yours and start being delusional and fantasize me being with other girls.”

“Excuse me?” Delusional?

“Why are you adamant on me having multiple girls?” Jungkook gently kisses your forehead just because he knows it annoys you - his random acts of affection or kindness in a situation that is deemed “serious”.

You shrug your shoulders. “You fit the fuck boy aesthetic.” was all you say.

Jungkook snorts. “You think I have girls lining up to suck my dick in exchange for streaming services?”

You gasp. “We said we wouldn’t bring that up!” you hiss. 

“You’re right, baby. I’m sorry.” Jungkook smiles. “I just don’t see how you think I’m a fuck boy even now. I barked in order to meet your parents. I’m still getting laughed at in the groupchat.”

You suppress your own laughter, only giving Jungkook a grin.

“I basically fund your whole lifestyle. I think that’s far beyond a fuck boy.” Jungkook adds - but not in a way to throw it in your face or to appear as though you need him to. 

“A sugar daddy at best.” you shrug, but even you can’t help but laugh at the bewildered look on Jungkook’s face. “You do know you aren’t obligated to buy me things.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes - it was the same song and dance as before. He’d get you something he heard you speak about once a few days prior - you would insist it wasn’t a need, but the sparkle in your eyes was enough for him to keep doing it. 

“As my girl…” Jungkook places a kiss at the nape of your neck. “...it’s required of me to.”

“Until you get bored and throw me to the side.” you feel Jungkook’s teeth bite down on your neck. 

“You do everything but admit you like me, baby.” Jungkook presses you firmly against him. “I’m beginning to think that’s what you want me to do so you can remain in denial.”

Jungkook’s hands go beneath the large shirt of his you wore. Your skin is so soft and smooth - the both of you shudder. 

“You’re okay.” you murmur, biting your lip when you feel both of his hands engulf your breasts. 

“Just okay?” Jungkook’s tongue twirls on the spot he bit. “I can have you on your back begging for me in seconds, baby. Nothing about me is ‘just okay’.”

Your play hard to get was not going to last - especially not now. The cocky Jungkook was creeping in, and he knew that your words were nothing but bluffs.

“I’m sure I would be the same way with someone else.”

You couldn’t help it. It was a game for you at times to rile up Jungkook. He was the jealousy and competitive type - he had to prove that he was the best at any and everything he did. 

“You want me to fuck you so bad.” Jungkook chuckles, but you can hear the slight irritation in his voice - deep and raspy; ready to prove you wrong. You shudder slightly as goosebumps ride across your skin.

You really did. You were already wet enough, his hands and mouth adding to it. There was nothing like Jungkook fucking your petty words right out of you.

“You do this every time, Y/N.” Jungkook bites your neck harshly and you yelp, squirming. “You love messing with me. It must turn you on seeing me fuck the submission into you.”

You swallow thickly to suppress a moan. “I just give you what you want.” you shrug slightly. 

“What do I want?”

“Someone to moan for you no matter if it feels good or not.”

You were playing a dangerous game with Jungkook, but it just brings nothing but excitement through you. 

You yelp once more when you feel your hair being yanked. “You’re being a bitch again, baby.” Jungkook murmurs, but even he is amused by your attempts. You can never just tell him that you want him - never tell him that you want him to dominate. Instead, you deny or insinuate the opposite just to give him a reason to prove you wrong.

But Jungkook said it once before, he loved your ‘play hard to get’ game you played with him; when he had you it was much more satisfying. 

“Isn’t that what you like about me?” you tease, and even in the dim room - law and order playing ignored in the background - you are beautiful to him, eyes sparkling with mischief. 

“Love it.” Jungkook presses his lips firmly onto yours, his tongue sliding past your mouth. It’s quick and he’s rough, but you cannot protest. His hands are gripping your flesh so hard that you feel as though they’d leave a mark.

Jungkook yanks the shirt off of you, tongue instantly finding both of your breasts. Your legs are wrapped around him, his clothed cock pressing firmly against you.

“Why can’t you be normal?” Jungkook’s lips pops from your nipples, his tongue licking it furiously. “A normal girl would just tell me she wants me to be a little rough and not provoke it out of me.”

Jungkook grips both of your breasts into the palm of his hands and brings both of your nipples into his mouth.Your back arches at the warm sensation pooling through you. 

“I-I have to tell you how to fuck like a man?”

There was a new sensation when the words left your mouth and hit Jungkook’s ears. It’s a sensation that shoots straight to your core and leaves your cheek stinging.

The room is silent, Jungkook’s eyes wide watching your reaction for a moment. He’s ready to apologize for not thinking before he slaps you, but it’s your moan that draws him back to reality.

“You liked that?” Jungkook murmurs and you nod, biting your lip. Jungkook grunts, his mind wandering just how far you’d let him go.

Jungkook unwraps your legs from around him and removes himself from the bed. He drags you to the edge of it, you yelping at the sudden movement. Jungkook removes your panties and widens your legs. He’s cocky - through the flashing television light, he see’s how wet you are for him.

“Keep your eyes on me.” Jungkook demands.

You swallow, finding it difficult underneath his intense gaze. Jungkook lowers himself, burying his tongue deep within your folds. He forces your legs open each time you threaten to close them. His eyes are locked onto your fluttering ones, watching as you moan and cry for him. You were so beautiful for him - if only you’d allow him to admire your beauty. Oftentimes when he looked your way, you were quick to respond with a witty remark.

“Fuck…” you groan, breaking eye-contact just as he enters his fingers inside of you. You lay your head back and continue to pant. 

“You never allow me to treat you nicely.” Jungkook removes his tongue from your clit to spit on it, continuing his pumping. “If you’d let me, I would take good care of you.” Jungkook licks his lips, the wet sounds of your pussy like a melody to his ears. “But instead, you want to be a bitch. I don’t get it.”

“K-Kookie…” you draw out a moan, a hand cupping your breast. You can feel the familiar churning in your stomach. “I’m gonna cum-”

“No you aren’t.” Jungkook removes his fingers from inside of you, hand slapping your clit. 

Your eyes shoot open, your pussy clenching around nothing. “W-What-”

Your mouth is stuffed with Jungkook’s fingers, your tongue twirling around them. 

“See how good you taste?” Jungkook questions, removing his fingers to grip your chin tightly. “I would let you cum but…I’m sure you can always find someone else to do it. Since you enjoy faking so much.”

Your heart is pumping and you flush hot with embarrassment. You aren’t sure what to say - Jungkook had you beat. 

“Aw,” Jungkook chuckles. “You look so sad, baby. I can let you cum.”

You swallow, glancing away from Jungkook. 

“Is that what you want?”

You nod your head, but Jungkook wants to hear you. 

You yelp when your clit is slapped once more. “Use your words, baby.”

“Y-Yes!” you try not to moan and sound too desperate, but it’s inevitable. 

“Yes what, baby?” Jungkook’s already tugging his bottom half off, his underwear going along with it. His shirt is next, chisel abs in your line of vision that you groan at just the sight. “Tell me what you want, Y/N. You have a mouth any other time.”

Fuck Jeon Jungkook. 

Fuck Jeon Jungkook and his cocky attitude.

Fuck Jeon Jungkook and his amazing dick that has you following along with him. “Please fuck me.” you sigh in defeat. “Please make me cum, Kook.”

“With pleasure.” Jungkook is delighted. He slaps the top of his cock against your clit, licking his lips. “So wet. To think you said someone else can have you like this.”

Jungkook wasn’t going to let that go - you can only imagine how hard he was going to fuck-

“J-Jungkook…!” you shout in surprise at how hard he enters you, his thrusting increasing by the second. Your back slams against the bed with each thrust, and it only bounces back just as hard. 

“You can handle it, Y/N.” Jungkook hisses, fingernails digging into your flesh. “You don’t want me to be nice, you don’t want to be my girl…”

Your eyes roll to the back of your head, panting heavily. Jungkook’s tone appears serious - you’d have to ask later on if your words really got to him like they appeared to have. 

“I let you…fuck…” Jungkook’s head hangs, eyes unsure where to focus. Your breast bounced furiously in rhythm with his pounding. Your face is scrunched with pleasure, a bit of drool in the corner of your mouth. “...I let you sit on my face. I let you spend as much of my money as you’d like with no limit. I…”

Jungkook grips your chin once more, forcing you to focus on him. It’s difficult - Jungkook doesn’t allow you a second to breathe, but you don’t want him to. 

“And all I really ask you to be is my girl.”

It pains for him to remove himself from you - all he wants is to cum deep inside of you like you’d allow him before. But - his pride and ego got the best of him. If you were going to front as if you didn’t need him to cum, then you weren’t.

“Kook…” you cry in defeat, pussy once more clenching around nothing. 

Jungkook laughs, a dark glee in the tone. “And like I said before, Y/N…” your eyes flutter a bit looking at his face - dark lust filled eyes staring right into yours. “...I can have you on your back begging for me, can’t I?”

Fuck Jeon Jungkook.

Your chest heaves. “Fuck you.” you curse at how meek your voice appeared.

“I bet you’d like that baby.” Jungkook plays with your clit slightly. “You’re my girl, right?”

You lick your lips, thighs quivering. 

“Say it and I’ll let you cum.” Jungkook centers his tip at your entrance, thumb circling against your wet bud. “That’s all I want from you, baby. You can have anything you want from me…”

Jungkook enters you slowly this time. Your groan is long and deep, your hands reaching out to grab Jungkook’s bicep. 

“J-Jungkook.” you trail off - the pleasure now getting to you. You just wanted to cum by him - his hands, mouth, cock, whatever it took.

“Yes, baby?” Jungkook breathes - he’s unsure himself if he’d be able to last long like this and then his ego would be hurt (but then again, he wouldn’t have blueballs).

“Please make me cum, Kookie.” you wail, hot tears falling down your face. You had to look utterly pathetic weeping for dick. Jungkook’s ego was now going to skyrocket and this moment is something he would forever hold over your head - no jokes from you could ever be taken now. “I had you on your back crying for me, baby” - you can hear it now.

But - you were desperate. Jungkook was hot, his dick was amazing and you’d allow him to have this over you. 

“I’m your girl, Kookie.”

Jungkook shudders - and now he’s truly satisfied. He pounds into you sloppily, certain that neither of you were going to last long. You’re clenching around him so heavenly, moaning and crying his names that he cannot help but want to cum inside of you each and every time. 

“I know you’re close, baby.” you hear Jungkook say, his forehead - moist with sweat - pressed onto yours. “We can come together, okay?”

“Y-Yea…” you nod, but you wrap your arms around Jungkook and press your lips against his. You’re groaning against the kiss, already cumming on his cock.

Jungkook feels the electric shock go through him and he shudders. With a few more thrusts, Jungkook cums inside of you, trembling at the sensation.

Ten minutes it’s what it took for you and Jungkook to come back to reality. You’re sweaty and you haven’t even done anything.

“You wanna shower?” Jungkook’s voice pipes in. “Are you okay? I didn’t go too overboard, right?”

You nod your head. “I’m okay.” you murmur. 

Jungkook nods. He kisses your temple. “I can start the shower for you-”

“You aren’t coming?” you ask once you feel Jungkook shuffle on the bed.

“I-I..” Jungkook’s eyes are wide and doe like. He appears completely surprised that you offered such a thing. “You’d like me to?”

You laugh at his expression. How you manage to remove yourself from the bed is beyond you - your legs are shaking with pain that you’re not upset about. 

Jungkook feels your hands against his bare chest and he tilts his head, awaiting your response. “I said I was your girl, wasn’t I?” you murmur, sending a kiss to his chest.

In seconds, Jungkook is erect again at just the admission. 

Series Masterlist

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