#i’ve lived here and i get. a little pissed off
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The Belly of a Black Heart - Alastor x Reader
18+. minors do not interact.
thank you @lustylita for the inspiration of this fic. your mind is a beautiful place. everyone check out her art and her concept to this story here. all credits to her, this was not my idea.
part 2
summary : After an unsuspecting death, you end up in hell and at the Hazbin Hotel. You become dead set on redemption. Alastor's feelings towards you are confusing and it pisses him off more than he can handle. In result, unknowingly to him, his feelings manifest through his shadow.
tw : no smut this chapter. angst. alastor being a jerk. mild gore/wound
words : 5.3k
notes : i hope you enjoy this chapter <3
When you wake the next morning, your head is a blur. Sitting up in your bed you take a minute to look around your new living situation. It takes a second to understand that this isn’t the room you usually wake up in but, despite all of that, you feel good.
The reality of being in hell was hard on you yesterday. You’ve had your little breakdown and denial fest.. you won’t let that bother you today. Pushing past things is how you manage. Always one step at a time. Plus, you’re in a place that offers redemption now. What’s done is done and now you can focus on how to get into heaven and maybe sort out a plan there. With God or something, right?
He’s literally God, maybe he could help your situation on earth. You doubt anyone here could help you… or even want to help you.
No headaches, your body doesn’t burn… today feels like you can start fresh. Rolling to get out of bed, your eyes catch a bundle of red in the corner of your eye.
Three red peonies tied together in a bow lay delicately over your unoccupied pillow.
You examine the vibrant flowers and thumb around the stems. You wonder who was thoughtful enough to give a simple yet welcoming gift.
Alastor’s fleeting expression and charming smile snatches your memory from last night. Your face almost burns, remembering how close he was to you, his face grazing against your cheek, breath fanning over you as it does.
Smiling to yourself, you think today would be a good day to get back on track. Charlie is willing to help you, and you might learn more about the gentleman from last night. You can even thank him for the lovely flowers.
The hotel buzzes with life when you walk to the formal dining room. Delicious breakfast foods waft through the air. The warm smell of coffee buzzes through your body.
“C’mon Husky, don’t chya wanna try it? I’ve been slavin’ over this all mornin’ for ya!” A tall, fluffy man leans over the dining room table, sliding a plate of food to a grumpy cat.
“Fuck no! Satan knows what you put in there and I don’t wanna risk dying twice.” Taking a swig from a browned bottle, the cat pushes away the plate.
The tall man’s shoulder slump as he lets out a groan. “Fine, but one day you’re gunna try my cookin’ and you’ll love it. You might even beg for moore.” He teases, taking the plate for himself as Husk rolls his eyes.
“Oh, good morning! How was your first night?” Charlie beams from the head of the table and everyone’s heads swivel to you. Suddenly, you’re on the spot.
“It was great, thank you. I actually had the best sleep I’ve had in a while,” you smile, “I needed it.”
“Everyone welcome our new guest! She arrived late last night.”
It was a small creature with a giant eye who lunged herself toward you first. Her little legs patting the floor and up your body before you could react.
“I’m Nifty, I clean.” A sinister giggle erupts from her lips before the tall man who offered.. Husk is it?.. a plate gently and removes her from you.
“Hey doll, I’m Angel.”
Alastor watches from the hallway as the group introduces themselves to you. Hidden in the shadows, he watches you closely. The way you smile fondly towards people you barely know, how you embrace each one with a greeting. Clearly, you lighten the room. But you’re a mystery, and one he doesn’t want to get involved with.
Does he?
Your sweet doe eyes are burned in a memory. He couldn’t help but get close enough to smell you, and fuck, did your saccerine smell burn through his nostrils as well. He could see your panic, the reality of your new eternal life smacking you in the face… the frustration it caused you last night.
But were you really keen on redemption? He could see the light beam behind your eyes once you stood at the center of your room. You belong here, you’re here for a reason. It’s hell afterall. Every sinner who comes here belongs to this wretched place to burn forever. Surely Charlie’s delusions didn’t persuade you in one night?
Surely you’re not that…simple?
“Will Alastor be joining us for breakfast? He’s the only one I haven’t seen this morning.” Alastor ears perk up at your voice from afar.
“Ehh, smiles doesn’t usually eat with us. Probably up in his room going to town on some animal he caught this mornin’.” Angel grimaces.
Watching your reaction closely, the slight fall of your face doesn’t go unnoticed. But you’re quick to recover with a smile and dig in with everyone else.
“Okay everyone! Gather around! Today we will be learning about each other.” Charlie’s hand gestures to you on the couch as everyone else filters into the common room.
Angel plops himself over the couch’s armchair next to you, stretching his long legs over your thighs. Husk mopes in the room, bottle in hand and leans against the fireplace. Nifty props herself over the table happily swinging her legs and Vaggie stands beside her partner, eyeing everyone down.
Your eyes carefully glance around the room, trying not to bring attention that you’re looking for Alastor. From your comment at breakfast before, you don’t want to keep bringing the man up to avoid conversations you don’t want to have.
But it fails.
“Looking for tall dark and creepy?” Angel shimmies his chest and throws you a wink.
Rolling your eyes you push playfully at Angel’s leg. “No, just making sure everyone is here.” Giving him a side eye you whisper, “nosey.”
Angel laughs and gives you a nudge, “Well looks like you’re in luck toots, looks who’s comin’.”
Perking up, you watch Alastor’s tall form stride in the room and take a seat in an armchair directly across from you. His smile is wide, but it seems strained? Folding one leg over the other, he relaxes back into his seat. His eyes scan the room, probably checking for roll-call, before landing directly over you.
You give a smile but he doesn’t react.
“Okay! Now that everyone is here, we will be telling 2 truths and a lie. Everyone will say two truths about themselves and one lie. The group will have to guess which one is a lie. So fun!” Charlie claps.
“I don’t want to put our new guest on the spot, so let’s start with Husk.”
A low groan emits from the fireplace where Husk stands. He really looks like he doesn’t want to be here, but maybe he’s been here long enough to know that he has to participate.
“Alright, uh, I can down a whole bottle of whiskey with no reaction, I suck at dice games, and I hate water.”
“I’ll give you something to down, Husky~” Angel tosses his head back and blows him a kiss.
“For fuckssake,” Husk rolls his eyes.
“Oh oh! I know, the lie is he hates water! I’ve seen him take bubble baths at night.” Nifty giggles sinisterly.
“Okay good job, Nifty.” Vaggie cringes and turns her attention to you, “Would you like to give it a try next?”
Glancing between her and Alastor’s heavy stare, has he been looking at you this whole time? You shrug. “Sure, I'll give it a shot. Let me think…” You hum.
“I’ve been in hell for a long time, I love to dance and I’m pretty good at it, and I stole drugs when I was alive.” You’re not that great with coming up with things on the spot, but you gave it your best shot. First things that came to your mind and all without being too personal.
Angel drags out a hum, “I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt that you can dance. Not sure if I would paint you as someone who would steal. You act like Miss-goodie-two-shoes’s-distant relative over there. I’m gunna go with that one.”
You couldn’t help but contain your smile, you could have sworn that your appearance gave you away that you literally died just yesterday.
“Nope! I died yesterday and found this place last night. Thank god I saw your commercial, I don’t know where I’d be if I didn’t.”
Angel’s mouth drops open and leans forward. “Hold on, you’re like, super fresh? No kiddin’. So… you stole drugs?” He looks you up and down, “can you do it again?”
“Matter of fact, we don’t know much about you. Anything at all really. I’ll take it you’re here because you stole, but there’s gotta be more than that.” Husk examines his bottle.
You shift in your seat uncomfortably. “Yeah, I stole but- I don’t know.” Memories of stealing drugs, scamming people for money flood your mind. That stuff was bad, but did it really land you here in hell? I’m sure it’s a part of the 10 commandments or sins or whatever…
The man. Your knife.
You killed someone right before dying.
“What drugs do you like? I got some good connections. We could totally-”
“No! Nonono, no one is going to do that. Say no to drugs! Remember we are trying to get redeemed?” Charlie’s arms wave frantically as she lets out a nervous laugh.
It was all for protection. You never wanted to hurt anyone like that before, it’s not like you wake up blood thirty for killing. It was self defense.
Guilt bubbles within your gut, and it’s getting hard to breathe. Would they even care if you killed? You’re sure almost everyone in hell has killed, even in the afterlife.
“C’mon, toots, tell us a little about yourself. This is about sharing after-all,” Angel teases. “I wanna know all the shit you did when you were alive! You sound like a good time, Y’know my girl buddy would love you-”
“I think that’s enough for today.” A staticy voice interrupts the conversation. Your head swivels to meet the demon who carries a strained smile. The hair on his ears stick up in a frenzy while his claws grip over the top of his microphone cane.
“But Alastor we barely got star-”
“I think,” Alastors voice grows with static, every word pronounced precisely, “that is enough for today.”
Angel's legs slide off you as he stands to stretch, “Aww what a buzzkill.”
Before you have the chance to leave the room, your face is met with Alastor’s chest.
He lifts his chin, but his eyes bore down at yours. Your eyes shoot wide with the proximity, and something within his chest spurs as wait for him to speak.
“I would like to speak with you privately, my dear.”
Following him up the stairs and into his radio tower, you tread lightly in new territory. Papers over his desk are neatly stacked next to a forgotten cup of coffee. The walls are floor to ceiling windows overlooking Pride, you’ve come to know. Dusk stretches the horizon and little dots of light twinkle in the distance over the city. On the other side of the room, old equipment lined the wall. Hundreds of knobs and switches cover the machines and you wonder how he’s able to work such equipment. Speakers, extra microphones sat upon a bookshelf along with books, magazines and other nic-nacs you’re sure he has collected through the years.
You’re not sure how old the demon is, and you’re not sure how you haven’t thought about it since meeting him, especially when he has taken up most of your mind these past 24 hours.
You guess he’s from the roaring 20’s? 30’s? He’s dressed sophisticatedly with not a hair out of place. His posture paints him a perfect gentleman in a society where it mattered. His transatlantic accent was smooth and you long to hear it more than you should, or do. And guessing by this set up, the ON AIR sign that hangs directly over his desk, you could be right.
But what of this demon? What is his story? You’ll put a pin in it and ask angel later-
“I’m sure you’re wondering why I brought you here so I’ll cut to the chase.” Alastor’s arms are neatly behind his back as he looks over Pride. Without turning to you, he continues.
“I’m looking for more help around the hotel. Husk’s job is primarily tending to the bar, Nifty cleans and Charlie is over her head with trying to recruit sinners. I’d like to say that I have everything handled with paperwork and trying to keep this pace afloat, but I don’t.”
Your brows furrow in confusion. He.. can’t handle it all? He definitely gives the calm, cool collected attitude of one who would never need help.
“So, you need my help? I thought I was just a sinner trying to get redemption?”
Alastor stiffens for a moment before turning to you. “I thought you should know that Charlie and I had a discussion earlier. We think that you fit into the family seamlessly. We both thought you would be great at helping us with our little project.” He tilts his head, scanning you over, “Unless you don’t want to?”
You shake your head. This might not be a bad idea. This could actually help you in more ways than one. This could help you more with gaining redemption and be a part of a bigger picture.
“No, that all sounds great actually. What exactly do you have in mind for me to help you with?”
“More of the mundane things like checking over the hotel to make sure everything is in order, placing orders for food, toilet paper - the essentials.”
“So the mundane things you don’t want to do?” You laugh lightheartedly. “Sure, Alastor, I can do that for you. Do you have a check list for me?”
In one snap, Alastor conjures up a daily ‘to-do” list for you. Your eyes widen at his magic.
“If you can do that, why can’t you make food and toilet paper appear instead of ordering it?”
His smile is smug, “It’s a lot more complicated than that, little doe”
Turning on your heel, you say over your shoulder, “One day, I’d like to properly thank you for the flowers you left me.”
He watches you disappear through the doorway, confusion carved over his face. Flowers?
What an interesting thing to say… An odd woman.
Woman. Your presence had been the first in his studio.
Charlie and the guests know that no one is allowed in this room, for it’s locked 24/7. This room is his pride, his sanctuary and the one thing he’s carried on since dying. Besides killing and torturing innocent people, he supposes.
Clawing at the staff of his cane he shakes the thought of your company being… comforting.
His ear twitches in frustration. This foreign feeling- this odd hunger for catching your eye in a sea of others, to smell you near has become a twisted form of entertainment. He has to ignore the way his lower belly heats and aches when you're near…Is it entertainment? He stares at the door where you just stood.
Is his curiosity growing in the little moments you spend together or is it something he can’t pinpoint? His facade will fail to hold if he continues like this.
A predator assessing his pray like it’s a game. Except, it doesn’t feel like that kind of a hunt.
-
Stepping out from the bathroom after your nighttime routine, a darkness catches the corner of your eye.
“Hello?” you call out.
The darkness in the corner slithers across the floor and manifests itself in the center of your room.
You curse under your breath, while it’s not the craziest thing you’ve seen, it’s definitely unexpected.
“Um, hello there…” You stay standing in the doorway of your bathroom. Looking the creature over as it stands tall.
The creature, no, shadow, is dark, but you can make out that its body is made up of swirling smoke. It’s face gives a chiseled smile, imitating teeth through the smoke, and resting on top of it’s head were a pair of outgrown antlers that stretch wide.
You tilt your head at the creature, curious on why it hasn’t responded to you.
It tilts his head back, mimicking your movement.
“Cute,” you giggle, “what are you?”
The shadows' eyes glow green in response and gives you a bigger grin.
“Are you here at the hotel too? I just got here yesterday…” you shift on the balls of your feet. “Do you have a name?”
The shadow dissipates into the ground and for a moment, you’re spooked. Backing up into your bathroom, a coldness caresses your neck from behind.
Spinning around fast, you’re met with it again. The creature folds forward to meet your face.
Oh fuck no.
You fumble backwards a little too fast but the creature is quick to catch you by an arm. It steadies you easily.
“You’re.. Good, right? Friend?” The words fall stupidly out of your mouth. You feel like you’re talking to a child in simple words and a sweet voice. God knows that this creature is probably thousands of years old but you’re speaking to it like it lacks some form of intelligence.
The creature smiles and nods, backing away from you before wisping itself around your body in a cloud of smoke.
Warmth surrounds your body, unlike the coldness around your neck from before.
“Friend, okay…good.” You smile and embrace the dance it gives you.
The creature manifests itself over in front of your nightstand and the bundle of shadows steps aside to reveal the red peonies from this morning. Your eyebrows raise and realization hits you.
“That was you? What a lovely gift to give.. To me.” Surprise followed by stupidity hits you in the last bit of that sentence.
How could you be so stupid to think Alastor would give you those flowers? He hasn’t even spent much time around you, let alone want to speak to you. Every time you’re in the vicinity of him, he pretends you don’t exist.
Foolish.
Foolish to think that he would even take a liking to you.
And you mentioned it to him hours ago… God, he’s probably so confused and you look like a fucking idiot.
The shadow slumps at your reaction. Its swirls grow faster over its body, like the wheels in its head are thinking of a way to cheer you up.
Warmth caresses around your hips and playfully drags you to your bed. You let it happen because, for some ungodly reason, you trust this shadow.
It’s gentle hand lingers over your face, brushing over the skin of your cheek. A familiar feeling. Almost like the feeling of last night when Alastor’s-
No.
The creature lifts your chin to look at him as he takes a seat by you on the bed and you mentally brush away the cringe.
You both stare at each other for a moment. You're entranced by its odd behavior. Although, its presence feels familiar, a kind of nostalgia you cannot place. His warmth feels like a gentle hug, a friend in the darkness when you're alone.
The faint smell of whiskey, a bar of soap and lemongrass.
A warm song that dances inside your nostrils.
Your room is quiet, as you let the shadow tickle your face and neck.
Soft music begins to play when your eyes fight sleep. But you give into the lull of the shadows lullaby.
-
From that first night of meeting the creature, you’re woken up gently by it patting your head and urging you to get dressed. Funny enough, the creature disappears while you get ready, giving you privacy. But ultimately, you wouldn’t mind it at all if it stayed.
One night, after a particularly hard day working under Alastor, you named the being.
Umbra.
Not the most creative, but it was the first thing that popped in your head… and he, you’ve come to find out, was quite happy with the new nickname.
You weren’t sure where he came from, what he is, or what manifested himself to you that night, but you’re thankful for the company.
Umbra was quiet. He never spoke, but damn is he funny. Every night, he meets you in your room practically bouncing off the walls, or more so sliding everywhere in a mist of shadows and patiently listens when you talk about your day.
Every morning you wake up with new little flowers over your unoccupied pillow. Each of them a bundle of red, for some reason. But lovely all the same.
It became a nightly routine to where he’ll lull you to sleep with gentle caresses and soft old-timey music.
And it’s given you the best sleep of your life.
Alastor however, has been more distant than before. When asking for new lists everyday, he’ll stare down at you through lowered eyelids and hand you a list bigger than the last.
He never questioned your flowers comment, but you’re sure he hasn’t forgotten.
Though, through his aloof attitude, he still invades your personal space when talking to you - and he only talks to you when it’s absolutely needed. His stare burns new holes through you everyday before he locks himself up in his radio tower until dinner or Charlie's group exercises.
“Smiles has been such a fucking jerk lately, what did you do to’m?” Angel slumps over the armchair, preoccupied with texting.
“Me? He hardly talks to me! Everyday he’ll just hand me a list to do and disappears.”
“That’s exactly the problem, ever since he’s offered you a job here he’s been acting like there's a stick up his ass more than normal. You must being doin’ shit at your job.” He nudges you and you both laugh.
“Yeah, no idea. I try to talk to him. He’s the one person in this whole place I don’t even know about… but he ignores me.”
“I don’t think he completely ignores you, doll face. Do you notice how you’re the only thing he can look at when you’re around? Hard to get him to help Charlie lately, too.”
You blush and drag your gaze to the floor. “No, I didn’t notice that. What’s his deal anyways?”
Angel went into detail about how Alastor wa/is one of the most powerful overlords in the Pride ring. 7 years ago he disappeared or some shit but 7 months ago he came back and randomly ended up here. Some bullshit about wanting to help Charlie with her ridiculous delusions about saving a sinner. He’s just here for the ‘entertainment’, but he’s been a big help honestly. Especially in his battle during the extermination - before he got wounded.
Wounded? He could get hurt? A powerful overlord who has thousands of contracted souls could get… hurt? But there airs another question…
He doesn’t believe in redemption?
Your thoughts were cut short by a shadow carrying a mischievous grin lurking in the hallway. Umbra swirls in a mist of shadows as his eyes glow green and gestures for you to follow him.
Raising from the couch you head his way.
“Maybe he just needs some good head!” Angel calls out to you.
You follow Umbra as he slithers over the carpet, manifests himself over the walls and guides you upstairs. His cute grin makes you laugh, and you're excited to see what he has in store for you today.
Not noticing that you pass your own room, your eyes only watching Umbra flee with excitement, he leads you to a door at the end of a hallway. He turns to you, looking you once over and dissipates through the door.
Knowing you want him to follow, and without a second thought, your hand turns the knob and you fly inside Alastor’s radio room.
There, hunched over his desk wearing only his long sleeve undershirt and pants, Alastor’s back is turned to you.
“Who the fuck,” Alastor’s head turns over his shoulder, black eyes blown wide as his red pupils snap to you.
“Alastor- shit, I’m,” you back away, accidentally shutting the door behind you.
“Has anyone taught you proper manners? Don’t you know that walking in on someone is-” Every word cuts through you like a knife, the static in his voice grows louder in every syllable. The lights flicker around you as Alastor’s body grows larger in scale, his antlers growing wide.
“I didn’t know!” You yell honestly, you didn't know. Or, you weren’t paying attention.
“The door was locked, how did you get in here?” Red liquid oozes out of his mouth as his empty black eyes stare you down. But you’re not looking at the anger on his face, or the way his body engulfs the room. No, you're looking at how his arm covers a wound on his side. Your eyes scan to the side, where ointments and bandages lay askew over his desk.
“You’re hurt, Alastor.”
The radio demon stops, and for a moment, you catch surprise painted in his features.
“Let me help?” You offer, taking a step forward.
He doesn’t move.
“Get out.”
You step forward, unafraid of his form. He's hurt, and you can see the blood squelching against his hand, dripping to the floor.
You reach out, covering your hand over his bloodied one and your eyes flicker upwards to the beast before you.
A silent plea to let him help. If he’s been doing this on his own since the extermination, he hasn’t been doing a great job at mending it.
He gives a frustrated sigh, and shrinks back down to his normal self. Internally rolling your eyes at how easy that was to do… an all powerful overlord listening to you was a confidence booster to say the least.
You look down to assess the wound. His red undershirt wet and stained with blood on the right side of his torso.
You flash him a look for silent permission, and he nods ever so slightly, his eyes fixated on your face. You begin to unbutton his shirt from the top down. You scan your fingers delicately over his chest and down towards the wound. Alastor lets out a shaky sigh that goes unnoticed by you.
You expose his torso more by opening up his shirt to get a better look. Alastor leans back in his chair and curves his hips upwards ever so faintly. You swallow, fighting the demons in your head to take a closer look at his exposed body.
“Looks… bad.” You manage to say, focusing only on the wound before gentle fingers slide under your chin and angle your face upwards so he can see you fully.
And you swear, that for a moment, something swirls deep within his gaze. Something more than he lets on. A flash of hope? Eagerness?
Now’s not the time.
You clear your throat before grabbing supplies and getting to work.
Alastor was silent as you mended him. His eyes never left your face as you cleaned the wound and bandaged it neatly.
“All better!” You chime, doing your best to ignore the buzz on your chin from his touch, “Next time you try to do this yourself, try to find me? I don’t think it’s healed right for at least a couple weeks. You’re lucky it hasn’t gotten infected.”
“We’re in hell, dear, I’m sure there’s worse things to worry about than an infected wound.”
He didn’t even bother to say thank you.
Is this the sophisticated and well-mannered demon Charlie raved about? The helpful demon that made this hotel?
You let out a breath you didn’t know you’ve been holding and your shoulders shrug downward.
“Is there a reason why you’ve been so avoidant since I arrived? Everyone has been talking about how you’ve been acting differently since I showed up. Why is that? Did I do anything to you?” You avoid his eye contact by putting away the medical supplies inside a metal box.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, dear. I’ve always been the same.” He leans back in his chair.
Something doesn’t add up.
“Everyone talks about how you’re this powerful overlord, yet you lock yourself up in this tower all day and night. They all talk about how you were always around and ever since me you’re nowhere to be found.”
“I’d watch your mouth, little doe.” He snarls, but doesn’t move from his chair.
You stand, and for once you’re just taller than him even when he’s sitting down. Stories you’ve heard, the things the other residents say about him - nothing is adding up. Angel even went out of his way to ask what the fuck you did to him to act like this.
“I can’t help but think that you’re trying to avoid me. Are you scared of me or something? Or do you just like to see me do all of your bitch work so you don’t have to look at me?”
“And why,” Alastor stands, towering over you. You never realized how much taller and broader he is compared to you. His entire frame engulfs your size. “Would I be scared of a pathetic, weak sinner who died so easily doing something so reckless and ended up here?”
A beat, “I’d go far as to say you’re forgettable in this cesspool. Why would I go out of my way to avoid that?” He hums, lowering to your level at the waist. You want to punch that smug smile on his face.
You ball your fists and keep his eye contact. You scrunch up your nose and grind out every word with anger, “That’s hilarious coming from someone who did the same. Not so different, you and I.”
You didn’t care enough to see his expression before turning on your heel and head straight to your room.
Sinking onto your bed, you throw your head between your hands with a groan.
Asshole. Fucking asshole.
It doesn't take long before a presence in front of you lingers, and a warm caress slithers over your cheek.
“Not now, Umrba. I’m not in the mood.”
Umbra’s smokey hand tugs gently at your arm, pulling it forward and causing your head to droop. You allow him to pull you up and into an embrace.
Scents of whiskey, soap and lemongrass once again fill your head. A lovely haze that you’ve come to cherish. A friend.
A comfort.
A beautiful melody fills the air, and swallows you whole. Umbra’s body shakes with a staticy old tune.
“I’ll never smile again, until I smile at you” The voices sing a beautiful sorrowful melody, filling the air. Umbra’s arms skate over you and places his hands in yours.
The stance of a dance.
Umbra guides your one arm over his back, there he rests the other around your waist. A close embrace that you happily welcome.
“For tears would fill my eyes, my heart would realize…”
Guiding your hips in a gentle sway, you rest your cheek on his torso. The both of you sway to the melody slowly in your dimly lit room.
And, like always, the shadow doesn’t say a word. And maybe you like it that way. With all the chaos pounding loudly in your head, Umbra can always grant you the safe space you need. No judgment, no games.
No words.
Umbra pulls you around in a dizzying spin on your toes, earning a giggle from you. The music crescendos softly.
“I’ll never love again, I’m so in love with you…”
Guiding you around your room, you follow his lead. Wisps of smoke trail after him and curl at the bottom of your feet. Warmth is all you can feel.
You’re picked up swiftly and spun like a child before being placed softly in your bed. Umbra continues to play the melody until you are cast away in blissful sleep.
“Within my heart, I know I will never start to smile again, until I smile at you.”
taglist : @hazbinsimp777 @rapturenyx @kaytemchugh
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i simply feel that if you burn shit in your roommate’s skillet you should then feel the obligation to be the one who scrapes it out and cleans up
#sometimes i think about the fact that i’m literally the only person who’s cleaned the kitchen in this place for the entire year and a half#i’ve lived here and i get. a little pissed off#i’ve tried being polite and bringing up the problem without explicitly pointing fingers by leaving cleaning products (which i bought)#out on the counters and sending a text in the group chat like ‘hey! 😊 i got these wipes for us! i think that all of us could#use these a little more often so that the kitchen doesn’t get so gross!’ but it seems that everyone either has no sense of shame or just#genuinely doesn’t mind living in filth for the periods between the marathon cleaning sessions i do every few weekends when i have the time#one of the guys who lives downstairs will just walk right by me cleaning up on his way to the fridge and pretend he can’t see me#which is still better than the other one (the one who just burned shit in my skillet) who once saw me cleaning and asked if he could help#and when i got all pleased and asked if he could maybe take the trash out for me while i was cleaning counters (a small and simple task!#when he’d literally asked me if there was anything he could do!) he visibly deflated. said ‘well i’m not really around here much [so it’s#not my trash in there etc.]’ and wandered off. without doing anything#like. HELLO???? you could have just been like the other guy and pretended you didn’t see me doing all the work if this was how you were#going to be about it#but i guess he wanted to feel good about himself having offered/expected me to just say ‘oh no thanks i love being your housekeeper 😊’#tbh i really need to be more assertive and be like ‘hey guys i’m sick of this’ and maybe. bring up the Sexism of it all. because.#you know. the whole situation feels pretty gendered#was complaining about all this to an irl friend the other day and she said i should start a chore chart but i don’t want to be responsible#for maintaining the chore chart either! take on the mental load of managing the housework and also turning into Resident Bitch for asking#men to do things for me. you know. there is simply no way out here#there is another woman who lives here as well but unfortunately i don’t think she’ll be much help in forcing the issue because. she doesn’t#clean shit either!#actually in the days since she moved in the shower drain in our bathroom has become horrendously clogged which. well. i mean not to point#fingers but one of us has got about two inches of hair and the other has got a foot and a half. so#i also simply feel that if you clog a drain you should be the one to unclog it but i’ll probably do that as well#sorry for the massive tag rant by the way i really shouldn’t make myself out to be some kind of martyr because i’m not particularly neat#myself but…. ooooh god if the bar isn’t all the way down in hell#anyway i just did a whole bunch of dishes but i left that one skillet to soak passive-aggressively overnight#i don’t think the aggression will come across though because i think he genuinely won’t even pay attention to the fact that it’s still#dirty and i’ll end up being the one to clean it tomorrow#caseyposting
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it’s just frustrating because I cannot afford a life worth living and probably never will
#deity dialogue#‘you just gotta keep working harder and tell yourself it’ll be okay’ what if I died instead because that’s literally all I’ve been fucking#doing and guess what? shit still sucks despite my best fucking efforts#I’m beginning to think that maybe trying your best and doing everything within my own damn abilities isn’t enough#it’s almost as if the world isn’t built to accommodate or benefit people who aren’t already well off and that the majority of us will spend#the rest of our live struggling to live something even vaguely similar to a comfortable happy life#and maybe I’m tired of having to do so much for so fucking little for the rest of my piss poor life#I don’t want to be alive I don’t even want to live to be 25 I don’t want to be here#I didn’t ask to be born and then live a miserable life#I’m tired of being told ‘it’ll get better’ literally when. how and when lmao#because myself and so many people I know are constantly fucking struggling to get by and can’t even take care of basic needs and are passing#around the same $20 every fucking week I’m sick of this
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the slip up l lando norris x reader
request/summary – lando and reader are in a secret established relationship, until lando accidentally slips up on stream
author's notes – first piece of writing, feedback appreciated!!! this is just my thoughts written down honestly, i didn’t have much idea where i was going with it so enjoy.
Max was streaming with Lando at his place. Lando drags his feet over to the stream room, sitting on a chair next to Max. He was scrolling on his phone, trying to pass the time.
“Mate, I’m gonna leave, you’re being so boring,” Lando joked under his breath as he ran a hand through his hair.
“I’ll make things more interesting then. Chat, wanna know something really interesting about Lando?” Max asked with a mischievous smile as he looked back at Lando. Lando watched with suspicion of what max could say next.
“Lando’s got a secret girlfriend,” Max sings to annoy Lando. Lando’s eyes shot up, his heart pounding as he turned off his phone, the same phone he was using to text you, his girlfriend. “I don’t, chat, don’t listen to him. He’s just trying to piss me off,” Lando says as he shoots Max a glare.
—————
A few months later, everyone has chalked up that interaction to Max simply trying to annoy and rile up Lando, and no one thought much of it. On a miracle of a night in spring, Lando was in Monaco and decided to stream. He had a hoodie on, his hair all messy, but a smile on his face. About an hour into the stream, I knock on the door of his stream room quietly. Lando immediately turned off his video and mic, telling chat to give him a minute.
I walk in, a black slip dress on with a cropped white cardigan, my hair and makeup done all fancy. “Hi, baby,” Lando says as he pulls me in by the waist, onto his lap. “Girls night tonight, right?” He says with a soft smile. He always makes sure to pay attention to anything I’ve mentioned to him, including my plans to hang out with Lily and Carmen tonight, Alex and George’s girlfriends.
I hum in response. “Yeah, we’re gonna get dinner and then take some Instagram photos,” I say as I stand up from his lap, “you like the dress? It’s new.” I give him a little twirl to show off the dress.
Lando smiles brightly. “I love it, baby, you look gorgeous. Like always,” he says as he leans in for a kiss. “Text me when you’re done and need me to pick you up, yeah?” I nod and smile.
Once I leave, Lando puts his headset back on, turning his mic and camera back on. He scrunches up his face as he’s met by shouting from Max into his headset. “What’s your problem, man?” Lando asks with confusion. Max sighs. “Lando, you had your mic on the whole time. People heard that whole conversation and I was trying to tell you but as always, you ignored me,” Max says with some frustration in his voice, but mostly amusement.
“Oh,” Lando says as he realizes what has happened. Not knowing what to do, Lando panics and ends stream.
When my friends and I reach the restaurant, we find it pouring rain, which was the most of our worries since the restaurant was outdoor. With frowns, we all pile back into the car and drive ourselves home. I arrive home only twenty minutes after I left, my dress soaked. My brows furrow in confusion to see Lando on the couch on his phone when i come back, and not on stream.
I slip off my shoes. “I thought you were streaming?” I ask softly as I make my way over to him. “What happened to you? You’re all soaked! Here, let me get you a towel and you can get dressed into some of my hoodie and sweats to get comfy,” Lando says, trying to avoid the fact that he had just live streamed his whole conversation with his girlfriend.
I saw the panic in Lando’s eyes. “Stop,” I say as I stood in front of him, “what did you do?” Lando shoots me a bright grin. “I love you, babe. So so much. And you know I’d do anything for you.” This made me even more suspicious. “Lan,” I say as my eyes narrowed.
“Okay, okay. I might have forgotten to mute my mic when we were talking right before you left. I swear I thought I had turned it off!” He says as he panics before beginning to ramble. “And I called you baby, and gorgeous, and your voice was heard too. And Max was telling me the whole time through my headset, but it was off and even if it were on, you know I don’t think about anything else when I’m with you. And there were thousands of people on the stream and you specifically told me you wanted to keep it private because you didn’t want to get hate crimed by the fans and you wouldn’t be able to handle it and I mean, I wanted to but it just slipped and im so so sorry but-“ He stops in confusion when a giggle escapes my lips. “Why aren’t you upset?” He asks slowly.
I smile as I slip my arms around his neck, his hands instinctively wrapping around my waist. “Well. Number one, you’re cute when you panic. Number two, no one saw me, so it’s okay. I mean, considering how in love you are with me, they were bound to find out at some point that you had a girlfriend,” I tease with a smile tugging at my lips.
He scoffs and rolls his eyes playfully at me. “Okay, yeah. I am absolutely in love with you. Still, you’re not bothered by this?” he asks slowly, hesitation lacing his voice.
“I promise I’m not. It was a mistake. Plus, that just means it’s gonna be all the more fun trying to watch them figure out who it is you’re dating,” I say playfully with a giggle.
“That’s true,” Lando says softly with a hum, “I love you.”
“I love you too. Although, don’t make me have to have you on adult supervision every time you stream now to make sure nothing else slips out of your mouth,” I tease as I playfully poke his side.
“Ah! Okay okay, promise,” he says with a giggle as he leans in for a gentle and loving kiss.
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summary: in which the sweet ache of yearning metamorphoses into the art of intimacy and knowing.
idol!jk x reader, est. relationship / fluffy fluff, a dash of angst, explicit content (minors dni!!) / word count: 10.5k
warnings/content: divided into seven parts. it’s like a timeline hehe <3 ; mainly in jk’s pov!! ; underaged drinking (oc is 18 in that part but the legal age of drinking in sk is 19 so!) ; mention of almost? n*des (neither sent by our mcs) ; making out ; thigh grinding ; brief or*l (f. rec + allusions to m. rec) ; mention and allusion to s*x [yesyes it’s the first time] [oc may or may not cry a little too…] ; they have a ‘what if i die before you?’ discourse lmao
playlist! restless - bibi ; lily of the valley - daniel ; who do you love - the black skirts ; intro (end of the world) - ariana grande ; snow - josh makazo
> in which masterlist!
note: look at my gorjus ethereal bf !!!! anyway… hi, i’m back ^_^ here’s my not so little offering to those who’s been missing the iw couple <3 as always i’d love to hear your thoughts :") come chat!!
—
I. THE FALLING
“just stay the night.” you blurt out, turning to jungkook to express your worry. “i can’t let you leave right now. it’s not safe.”
his wide eyes scan the headline of the news once more.
heavy snowfall, road accident, several injured… versus staying the night at the apartment of not quite his friend, not quite his lover, for the first time.
he can’t deny that he favors the latter over the former with an explicable feeling rendering him breathless. still, he can’t allow his enthusiasm to cloud his better judgement. he knows he’s still somewhat of a stranger to you. he doesn’t want to overstay his welcome or make you feel uncomfortable in your own space.
“are you sure you’re comfortable with it?”
“sure. should i be worried?“
“no! uhm, i just thought not everyone would be comfortable to have a person they’re not very close with to sleep over.”
you chuckle, lightly bumping your shoulder against his. “chill. i have bigger things to be scared of than the guy who just cried with me while watching an anime movie.”
oh… he thought you were too absorbed in wiping your own tears to notice him crying too.
he slumps back on the sofa with a sigh. “i see. i guess we’re left with no choice then.”
“i have an extra toothbrush!”
—
jungkook doesn’t quite understand people’s obsession with his eyes, but getting enamored by the innocence that yours seem to glisten with, he wonders if he is experiencing the same case.
“can you see if this fits you?”
you stand before him with a stack of neatly folded clothes, unraveling a pair of gray sweatpants to hold up infront of him.
“i think… there’s a string? oh, there’s none.”
he chuckles. “you forgot?”
“well, it’s not mine. my ex never came back for his clothes.“ you huff with a roll of your eyes, muttering a silent his loss into the air. “i’ve washed it though! don’t worry! it’s just- you know- sleeping in denim pants is uncomfortable.”
does that mean you still wear the clothes of your exes? this pisses him off for some unknown reason. he would much rather sleep uncomfortably than wear their clothes.
you kindly smile, pushing the black knitted sweater against his chest. “but this is mine. it’s really warm and comfortable!”
but on another note, you’re too sweet and thoughtful. how could he ever say no?
—
the sweatpants is a little loose around his waist. your sweater, however, feels incredibly soft against his skin. as he walks back into the living room, he pulls down his sweater paws and runs his hands across its sleeves. if he had to describe the feeling it evokes, he would say it is very much similar to rolling around on freshly washed and dried bedsheets.
“it’s nice, right?”
he whips his head around upon hearing the sound of your voice. for a quick second, you caress his arm with the back of your hand, and even with the barrier separating your skin from his, the casual touch causes his breath to hitch.
“i finished cleaning the room. i set up a comforter on the floor so you can take the bed.”
“is that so? thank you!”
he zooms past you. you’re left standing alone, blinking in confusion. he is more than happy to welcome himself into your bedroom… so he can slyly steal the bed you prepared for yourself. he slides under the covers, makes himself all cozy with his hands resting on the back of his head as if it’s not a raging winter and he’s lying under the summer sun.
“and what do we have here?”
jungkook cracks one eye open. there you are leaning against the doorframe with your arms crossed. you raise your eyebrows at him, demanding an answer.
“what?” he smiles childishly. “you’re the one doing me a favor. i’m not going to let you sleep on the floor.”
“how polite. suit yourself, sir.” you shake your head in amusement, smiling.
you enter the room, flicking the lightswitch off and locking the door at the speed of light. without thinking, probably; muscle memory formed by your routine. he is the only thing not a part of it. yet.
“goodnight, jungkook.”
“goodnight.”
he still sees you moving around in the dark. you crouch down beside him and he feels the extra pillow he’s partially crushing under his weight be jerked away all of a sudden.
“i need this one. sorry.” you whisper-shout apologetically. “goodnight! sweet dreams!”
—
jungkook sighs, tired of mindlessly scrolling through social media. his eyes flutter shut as he allows his phone to collapse on his chest. he is yet to even figure out if going to work later would be possible because of the blocked roads. he has gotten enough earful about not heading straight to the dorm and he cannot risk any more. because then, he would have to see less of you.
he sneakily opens his eyes, craning his head to the side to steal a glance of you, but he finds that you’ve already fallen asleep on your textbook and he’s unable to look away again. bathed in the warm light of the lampshade on your bedside, he has never seen you more peaceful. he learns with hard evidence that you’re a side sleeper, curled up underneath the blanket and cutely snuggled against the pillow you took from him.
he doesn’t know how long he’s been admiring you, but he knows he doesn’t want you to think of him as a creep. you stir in your sleep and his hand swiftly flies to his phone. pretending to be absorbed in reading the first tweet he comes across, he tries taking another subtle glimpse of you.
it’s as if he’s been caught and punished.
he flinches.
your textbook collides with the floor, landing only inches next to his pillow. he begins sweating. he could’ve easily gotten a concussion at best, death at worst.
he sits up with his elbows anchoring him, poking around to investigate the cause of the fall. admittedly, he’s a little sad to see your back now facing him.
“shit, what am i doing?” he roughly rubs his face to knock some sense back into him.
he needs to get some sleep. yeah, that’s it. nothing more.
he picks up your textbook, taking it upon himself to bring it over to your desk. on his way back, he also decides to to turn off the lampshade.
his finger freezes on the button, however. he sinks his teeth into his bottom lip to silence the giggle that threatens to escape him— so fucking endeared to discover that you’ve kicked off your blanket and rolled over to your other side along with the pillow, your thigh carelessly slumped over it.
he tucks himself back into bed, heart feeling all warm and fuzzy.
“so, so adorable.”
the words escape him without thought; the smile on his face ever-present even as he drifts off to dreamland.
—
II. ALLOW ME TO LINGER BY THE DOOR
“hey, it’s getting late. shouldn’t you be heading home by now?”
you sit beside jungkook on the sofa after a phone call, and his round eyes grow twice their size when you steal the iced tea from his grasp, nonchalant as your lips wrap around the same red straw his have been only seconds ago.
he awkwardly clears his throat, perhaps to mask his loud heartbeat. “is your friend okay?”
“oh, she’ll be fine. it’s her fault so i can’t do much for her this time.” you shrug, picking up your chopsticks as you eye the last dumpling in the bowl. “still hate that guy, though.”
“the one you think is lying about being rich?”
“i don’t know much about real ones, but i’m pretty sure i’ve seen enough fake diamonds!”
that seems to hits the right spot to elevate your mood. you hum happily as you chew, collapsing on the cushions and looking straight ahead at the television screen.
“sorry about that. you must be bored and tired by now.”
“about that…” jungkook swallows his nervousness. he rests his arm on top of the sofa, just to act cool. he’s so close to you yet still so distant. “i’m dead tired from filming today. i’ve been up since four in the morning. would it be too much trouble if i spend the night again?”
“i should be the one asking you that. why do you like this trashy place way more than i do?” you shake your head, wiping your mouth with a paper napkin. “i’ll go fix up so you can rest then. you’re lucky minji didn’t claim the bed first.”
fuck, he was supposed to get kicked out?
“wait! do you need a change of clothes?”
“there’s no need!” he replies a little too quickly. if he has to wear the clothes of another one of your exes, he might end up on the news for setting himself on fire. “i have extras in my backpack i didn’t got to wear today.”
“oh, okay.” you flash him a smile before disappearing into the bedroom.
yeah, how convenient.
he exhales through his mouth.
when did he start lying? his mother would be very disappointed in him. but on the other hand, his father would explode in boisterous laughter and pat him on the back. nevermind… that just makes it worse.
“guess i’m going to hell!” he shrugs, wearing a smile that is rather too jubilant.
he grabs his backpack on the floor and heads to the bathroom; your home is another home away from home.
—
jungkook is exhausted from dance practice. he must’ve exerted himself too hard again without realizing it. for the third time this week, he’s attaching pain relief patches to his neck and shoulders, shirt pulled to the side as to expose the area. normally, he’d just take it off without care, but he’s in a different setting. while he’s pretty confident with the current condition of his body, it would be rude to strip out of nowhere. and you make him nervous. would he fluster you or would you fluster him? he’s not prepared to find out yet.
“are you okay?”
his movements from below capture your attention amidst catching up to the events in your group chats.
“i’m okay, just a little sore. don’t worry!” he waves off your concern with a scrunch of his nose. “i also fell asleep in the car earlier so…”
“i can give you a massage. if you want.”
“no, it’s fine.” even though the offer sounds extremely tempting, especially coming from you. “i know you’re tired too.”
“hm, your loss. i’m kind of an expert at it.”
he squints his eyes at you. “really?”
“you don’t believe me?”
you sit up on the bed with an offended gasp, and he laughs at how you quite literally rose up to the challenge.
“we do have actual experts come in and take care of us too, you know that?”
“excuse you, i’m an actual expert! i have more than a decade of experience!”
he isn’t surprised to witness you climb down immediately afterwards, sitting behind him with your hands already on his shoulders.
“hmm, my dad worked at construction sites. my mom had a desk job. this- this was my job.” your fingers begin pressing down as if you’re assessing him, touching the bare skin of his still exposed shoulder. “got paid with extra allowance. making money was easy back then.”
“you’re so adorab- ah, ah, ah-” his sentence is cut short by his own self when you apply pressure on a big knot, gently massaging it in small circles to loosen the tightly wound muscle fibers. “fuck, it hurts… yeah, that’s good. don’t stop.”
he hears you snort, feels your forehead collapse on his back as vibrant giggles rack your body. a blush of red creeps up to his cheeks and he’s thankful that you can’t see his face.
he laughs along, belly aching. “okay, okay- i heard it! i should keep my mouth shut!”
“no no no, i won’t laugh anymore!”
“you’re still doing it right now!”
“i’ll stop!” you sniffle, laughed to the point of tears. you squeeze his shoulders. “just relax! you’re so tense here, see? no wonder it hurts.”
there’s no denying that his body is pushed to its limits everyday; he has grown accustomed of this kind of lifestyle and he doesn’t complain. you’re making him want to do it all the time, though. if it means getting pampered like this? hell yeah.
“it hurts here too. over- over here-” he reaches a hand to his back, patting the area that has been bothering him all day. “this part. will you make it go away, please?”
“here? your shoulder blade?”
“yes!”
“okay. tell me if i should go gentler or harder. i don’t want to hurt you.”
it’s his turn to snort. he shortly learns that was not a smart move.
“ah, ah, ah-” you pull at his ear and this time he moans in pain. “oh, come on! you gave that one away!”
“shut up! you’re not allowed to laugh too!”
—
he tries not to create more embarrassing sounds. at some point he begun to busy himself with his phone, but to no avail, there are occasional moans and grunts he can’t bite down because you weren’t lying about being a pretty damn good masseur. and then he does it on purpose once, just to hear you laugh again, because his being already feels a million times lighter and you show no signs of exhaustion or boredom.
“you have a mole here,” you casually observe. he feels a light touch on the side of his neck and the butterflies in his stomach become untamed. “it’s sexy.”
he blushes, caught off guard by the compliment. “thank you.”
“you’re welcome.” you hum.
the minutes pass by and he is no longer faking silence, however. all he can think about now is how he wishes that he was lying down for this. how long has it been? you’ve been definitely at it for almost an hour. he yawns, eyelids fighting to stay open but failing miserably.
“hey, wipe your drool.”
he blinks. your beautiful face greets him— for a second, he’s convinced that he has begun dreaming. with a mischievous grin, you lift the collar of his shirt to wipe the corners of his lips, and in a state of near delirium, he cackles.
“seriously, thank you… i-i don’t even know what to say. i really needed that.” he sighs, carelessly rubbing his heavy eyes. “i’ll treat you to dinner tomorrow. how about that?”
“sounds good. now go to sleep.” you pat his back before rising on your feet. “your head kept on dropping and i felt bad.”
“that happens a lot.”
“well, it’s bad for your neck. keep doing it and i’ll get more free dinners.”
the unmistakable sound of a kiss that follows, it suspiciously matches with the warmth that lingers on his cheek.
“goodnight!”
“goodnight…” he only manages to mumble.
his mind has gone off to space. you tuck yourself into your bed after turning off the lampshade while jungkook feels like he just got blasted to the moon. he needs to get out of here. STAT.
“i’ll go drink some water. do you want me to get you a glass?”
“no, i’m fine.”
he makes out your figure shuffling in the dark, snuggled closely to a pillow.
he nods, which you probably didn’t even see. he steps out of the room as quietly as possible, slowly closing the door as to produce the smallest click. he pads to the kitchen still feeling light, almost like he’s walking on a path made out of clouds. he pours himself a glass of cold water from the fridge, chugs it down to the very last drop.
he licks his lips as he sets down the glass on the counter. he sighs deeply. he can still feel the outline of your lips, sticky lip balm printed on his skin. is it normal that he couldn’t be bothered to wipe it off?
“totally worth going to hell for.” he muses, unaware of the smirk that has started playing on his lips.
he briskly washes the glass at the sink, wiping it dry with a towel before deposting it back into the rack.
as expected, you’ve already fallen asleep by the time that he returns. the light from the hallway casts a glow over your face and it’s a sight that is painfully intimate in its own peculiar way.
he can’t put a name to it, but whatever this feeling is, he likes it and he wants it to last.
and so, he lingers by the door for a few seconds more.
—
III. THE YEARNING
jungkook hisses your name with yet another curse, heart so close to jumping out of his chest. when you were on the phone incoherently begging him to take you home from the club, he expected to carry out a passed out person from his car to their apartment floor, which he found no problem with aside from the possibility of having to deal with them throwing up.
instead, he is struck by an unusual combination of amusement and distress. he has been running around trying to capture you as you spend your final bursts of energy ringing strangers’ doorbells. your exhilarated laughter echoes throughout the hallways. he must confess that he was laughing along with you the first time… until it started to get a little bit out of hand.
if someone recognizes him by chance, he would be beyond fucked.
“don’t- don't do it! stop it! please!” he finally manages to seize your wrist before it can reach another, forced to wrap his arms around your torso so you won’t escape from him again. “are you crazy? it’s 3am! people are sleeping!”
“that’s the point.” you mewl, looking back to him with a childish pout underneath the hood of your coat. “why are they sleeping? it’s when the ghosts come out. does no one ever think about ghosts’ feelings? because i do! if i were a ghost, i’d be lonely and crying right now!”
oh my god, what is happening?
“so let’s invite them and everyone for more drinks!” you jump up and down, his secure hold doesn’t hold a candle to your hypernese. “jungkook, i want to drink more! more more more! buy me!”
unfortunately, he doesn’t have the time to dwell on your cuteness. he hears a door click from behind and his instincts instantaneously kick in. oh shit, you actually fucking woke someone up. he sweeps you off your feet, clasping a hand over your mouth to mute your angry protests. he turns at a corner, trapping you against the wall.
a deep and manly voice fills the silence. “hello? who’s there?”
two pairs of eyes widen, staring at each other as if they can read minds through them. he notices the unsteady rise and fall of your chest; your heart must be beating as fast as his. he has to pull down his black mask to be able to breathe.
“you’re going to be the death of me.” he grumbles with a pointed look.
when you smile, he perceives it first through the palm of his hand before it reaches your eyes. only then does he fully register the dangerously close proximity between you.
dangerous because he wants to kiss you.
dangerous because you’d dare him to do it and his self-control has been reduced to a million cracks.
“ah, this prank again! fucking teenagers!”
and the door slams shut. you both flinch.
“that guy has a fridge full of beer!”
you are vexed, voice muffled but still clearly loud. you harshly paw at his forearm to remove his hand, and your pout finally comes into view.
“no, you’ve had enough! seriously, what am i going to do with you? huh? you shouldn’t even be drinking at all.” he blows a loud breath, frustratedly running his fingers through his hair. “how did you even get in the club? fake id? you have it, don’t you?”
you rush to defend yourself. “i’m only younger by a year and i don’t look like it! as if they actually care in those places. they only want money.”
he begins to question if the bloodshot of your eyes is solely because of the alcohol or you’re also on the verge of tears.
“why? are you mad at me?”
“no, i’m not mad. should i be?”
“…i don’t know. why do you even care about things like that? you’re not my boyfriend or my parent so i don’t need to explain myself to you.” you angrily ramble, wriggling out of the tight spot he had you trapped in.
and that felt like a fucking dagger to the heart.
“you know what? i-i can do this. i can take care of myself, so go home.”
“____, don’t be like this, please. you’re drunk.”
“i’m not drunk, just tipsy! you can go home!”
he runs after you, but you shrug him off and continue walking away, perhaps a little too fast. he curses himself when he catches up to you seconds too late, witnessing you fall over to the floor with a thump and a whimper.
“are you okay?! where does it hurt?!”
you shake your head profusely, but your hands gripping your ankle gives away the answers. he doesn’t press you further. without another word, he hooks an arm under your knees and the other under your back, swooping you from the floor. he stands up straight, adjusts your position slightly, and walks the path you attempted to travel alone in your intoxicated state.
perhaps he is mad. he went and abandoned his rest time when you said that you needed him, only for you to rudely send him home. he has the right to be mad, even just a little bit, despite the fact that he isn’t your boyfriend, right?
not that it matters.
you cling to his neck and it all melts away.
he glances down at you. a soft smile has replaced your frown. “oh, so now you’re happy again?”
“yes,” you tilt your head. “feels like i’m floating.”
“where’s your key?”
“huh?”
“your key-”
“oh!”
you dig out the item from the pocket of your coat. you proudly dangle it infront of his face along with the colorful keychains attached to it; the bear was gifted by yours truly from japan. he totally forgot that it existed. the last time he saw it was when he tossed it in the paper bag he gave you.
he’s not even your boyfriend. the two of you know that doesn’t make sense anymore.
—
after he sets you down on the sofa, he kneels on the floor to remove the heels from your aching feet. he gets the hang of it after unfastening the second strap. while he’s preoccupied, you strip off your coat to combat the increased temperature of your body.
“i need to pee.” you urgently kick off the heels as you rise on your feet.
jungkook looks up and forgets how to breathe. you are irresistibly gorgeous; the cherry red mid-thigh dress you’ve been hiding from him hugs your body so perfectly. he’s ensnared and thoroughly convinced that you’re aware of your power to leave men and women alike sweating and tongue-tied.
goddammit, he is mad. you were at the club looking like this among flashing lights and grinding bodies and he is not your boyfriend.
“doesn’t your ankle hurt?”
“doesn’t matter. i need to pee.”
he clicks his tongue as you limp your way towards the bathroom.
“you’re so hardheaded.”
he lifts up your arm to bring it over his shoulders; he holds your waist to assist you.
“and your heart is so soft.” you giggle, and his world stops when you hold his face… peppering his cheek with an amount of kisses he doesn’t have half the mind to count.
you said you’re not drunk, just tipsy. does that mean you genuinely like him this much and you’ll remember it when you wake up?
dear god, he hopes so.
—
jungkook is supposed to wake up in four hours. however, he’s still wide awake sitting by your pillow, mind completely blank on what he’s supposed to do now that you’re safe and sound. he can’t bring himself to leave just yet. you bump against his knee as you shuffle and squirm, eyes closed but yet to land in the confines of slumber. he can hear your rugged and frustrated breathing, can’t help but to hopelessly adore how pretty you are even with knitted eyebrows and tousled hair.
he likes you so much. he knows it hasn’t been that long since you met but the thought of losing the chance of winning you over makes him want to cry and throw a tantrum. you’re running in his mind day and night. you have permeated all his senses. you charm him with your unapologetic existence and you effortlessly captivate his ungiven affections.
when it comes to love, his passion becomes a weakness.
a whine emits from your parted lips as if you sense that something is wrong. your hands pat around the mattress— searching and searching, until they stumble upon him. you push yourself up, head landing on the pillow, and your arms, they hug him close by his waist. only then do you finally come to a still, chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm.
you are at peace and he is experiencing an emotional turmoil— falling in love. this is simply not fair.
the lines are becoming so blurry. he is losing control of his hands, hyperaware of what he is capable with his possession of them. he strokes your head gently, hair brushing across his palm— this is soothing to him as much as it is you.
this feels right, he thinks. he wants time to stretch from this galaxy to another.
he feels a weak tug at his sweater.
“i’m cold now,” your complaint comes out mumbled against the thick fabric.
next thing he knows you’re pulling him down by his collar, leaving him with no choice but to lie down beside you as to not crush you under his weight. where the hell did you gather the strength to do that?!
he hisses in panic. “yah! what are you doing?”
“i’m cold,” you repeat.
“____, we’re lying down on the blanket. if you can just scoot over for a seco- i’ll take it out. move-”
his attempts on communicating to you only fall on deaf ears. he zips his mouth to admit defeat.
you cling to him for warmth, and jungkook finds himself giving more than that. he volunteers his arm to be your pillow, softly cupping the back of your head as you nuzzle your face on his chest; his other arm wraps around your torso to keep you close. it is quite a tight fit on a single bed— he figures out a lame excuse for later.
now he can say for certain that you’re hearing his heartbeat, but he doesn’t seem to care anymore. he also doesn’t mind the scent of alcohol because it’s tragically losing the battle against your sweet perfume. it renders him enchanted. and the dress… that hypnotizing dress. he squeezes his eyes shut, trying to banish the sinful thoughts flooding his imagination.
he didn’t peg you to be the physically affectionate type, but seeing that you can’t sleep without hugging something, someone— he wants to be just the thing that you cherish as your safe haven. he wants this memory to be cute… and romantic. but too much heavy on the romance, you affect his body and heart in ways no one can.
he tries to will his growing erection to ebb away. it’s not an appropriate situation. he likes and respects you too much.
“my makeup…”
you said it so quietly, he almost believed he was making it up in his head.
“what was that?”
“will you- please, will you help me take off my makeup? it’s bothering me.” you make one final request at the depths of drowsiness, speech slurred and stuttered. “the wipes… the drawer behind you.”
he should’ve thought of that. he’s learning. next time, he will.
he settles into his previous position after grabbing the wipes.
“how do i help? is it okay if i d-”
he interrupts his question when he realizes that you’ve finally fallen asleep.
his sigh momentarily fills the defeaning silence of the night. the exhaustion has also begun to take a toll on him. he’s going to have to catch up on sleep during car rides and set breaks. he’s already dreading it as he’s planning around their hectic schedule.
as he wipes off your makeup as carefully as possible, he mutters into the thin air. “you owe me a massage for this.”
—
IV. HAPPINESS OUTSIDE DAYDREAMS
“you’re my boyfriend now and you don’t sleep on the floor anymore. how cute is that?” you happily think out loud, swinging your feet dangling at the edge of the bed. “but if you want to go back to our old ways… my bed is small even for me.”
“no way. are you kidding?!” he jokingly protests in an angry manner. “your bed is perfect.”
jungkook is on cloud nine. it sure does feel good to hear you sound so happy calling him your boyfriend, even more so to reap its special privileges.
“i keep forgetting to ask. which side do you prefer?”
you’re sat facing the door. “i don’t know, but i’m used to sleeping here.”
“alright. i’ll stay here.” he climbs under the covers, spreading his arms once his back hits the mattress. the smirk on his face widens. “come here, baby.”
a grunt slips past his lips when you jump into his arms without warning, eventually falling over to the side when he moves to envelope you in his embrace.
“you’re so warm.” you purr in contentment as you bury your face against his chest. “i love cuddling so much.”
“i’ve noticed,” he replies. he softly squeezes your exposed thigh after you slump your leg over his hip to maximize your comfort. “your pillow must be softer than me though.”
“no, i like you more… cuddling is proven to have health benefits, you know?”
he quirks an eyebrow. “oh really? give me examples.”
“it releases happy chemicals in the brain… it apparently also helps to lower blood pressure and heart rate, and it-” you fail to stifle a sleepy yawn, hands grasping the cloth of his shirt and forming closed fists. “…improves one’s quality of sleep.”
“i can see it’s working well for you.” he chuckles.
“is it for you?”
“mhmm, yes,” he presses his lips to your forehead. “i’m happy. there’s only happy chemicals in my brain right now.”
jungkook means it wholeheartedly and it feels strange. he doesn’t feel happy in this moment alone. this happiness is colossal and there’s not nearly enough hours in a day to take it all in. this happiness will still be here when he wakes up tomorrow, and the day after that. this happiness stays with him even when you’re not physically present. you’ve turned him into an optimistic fool but it’s not always that he experiences an attraction this strong.
he’s smitten and he can’t hide it. the people who are around him everyday sees it on his face; he doesn’t even need to say it out loud. all that corny shenanigans about romance giving you a certain type of glow is apparently true, it turns out.
“kissing is said to have the same effects, actually.”
your coyness captivates him from his thoughts.
he draws back slightly, the glint of mischief in his eyes mirroring yours. “where do you learn these things?”
“through reading and experience.” you shrug innocently. “want to test that out too?”
you’re everywhere. he can taste your lips, your tongue; your body wash floods his sense of smell with a sweet and clean scent, plus something else he can’t quite name. he can only it describe as you. your hair is tangled in his fingers and your hands… so delicate and teasing with every touch, it feels like being electrified. it still feels incredibly chilly outside but heat is radiating off his skin. he needs to peel himself off you before he loses his last shred of self-control.
“baby…” he whispers, lips only a couple inches from yours. he takes your hand in a tender hold, placing it over his racing heartbeat. “i’m not sure about this one being good for my health.”
“but it is. you just burnt some calories.” you smile, wiping the sweat that has started to form on his forehead. “should we stop?”
he feels his cheeks become more flushed, but his craving for you has overtaken his shyness. he might as well be drunk; intoxicated by you.
“no.” he refuses, conflicted and almost pained. “i can’t…”
he gets rid of the distance between your lips once more, swallowing the first obscene moan he brings out of you.
—
V. THE SPRING FLOWER IN THE EYE OF THE STORM
although you know they held affection for you, the boys you’ve attracted in your life have made one thing clear: they see you as an object of desire, and you unintentionally play the part well. if you were going to make their wet dreams come true, then you ought to derive pleasure from it as well without shame.
but with jungkook, the tables have turned. you wore the same lipstick from last time to rile him up on purpose, but instead you’re the one stuck trying to recall a time you were this putty in somebody’s hands. you’re not in control— you expect this thought would make you spiral, but it doesn’t.
you stumble inside your apartment making out with your boyfriend and you have an orange azalea tucked behind your ear. his hand is in your mess of a hair and it protects your head from the impact of the wall as your back collides with it. you don’t know if it was on purpose or not but your heart flutters nonetheless. this is sickeningly romantic and you want to drown yourself in it.
“oh, feels good.” his mouth on your neck is addictive, you imagine it would be heavenly on more vulnerable parts of you. your nails harshly dig into his shoulder as he takes his time with every lick, every nip of his teeth— eager to learn more about your body and what makes it weak at the knees.
you tug at his hair with a whisper. “jungkook…”
“mhm? yes, baby?”
you thought you’ve seen and felt enough. you know about lust, but never felt a chemistry this electrifying. there’s an emotion screaming beneath the daze in jungkook’s eyes; it’s always been there, but not this loud. you think if you trust your gut and open yourself up… you might just come to gain an understanding of it.
you bite your bottom lip, behind it a shadow of a smile. “bedroom.”
his restless hands slide down to hook around your thighs, and not long after, your legs are wrapped around his waist as he navigates your apartment blinded by the mutual refusal of your lips to disconnect. you giggle every time he bumps into something and groans. with his fear of accidentally letting you fall felt through his tight grip, you’re the one who kicks the bedroom shut. the sound couldn’t have been louder than the pounding of your heart reaching your own ears.
jungkook is gentle as he lays you down on the bed, but your lack of inhibitions reign over you. you begin unbuttoning his shirt, unconsciously grinding your heat against his thigh as you do so. it catches him by surprise, but then his strong hands find purchase on your waist, and you know he wants this as much as you do.
the kiss is broken up by a moan when his grip falls to your hips, guiding your wild movements in chasing pleasure with a tenderness and sensuality that transforms you into a feverish mess. another gush of arousal ruins your underwear worse. you kiss him again and eventually you lose count of the buttons— patience runs thin and with adrenaline rushing through your veins, you tear his shirt apart.
he hisses. “baby, shit- what did y-”
“shhh,” you place an index finger over his lips.
he chuckles raspily, shaking his head in disbelief. your giggles join him, equally amused with yourself.
it’s still for a few seconds, but you can hear each other breathe in the dark. you’ve seen him naked but his silhouette alone stirs the fuel spreading throughout your body. he’s perfect. your lips reclaim the place of your finger. your hands caress every inch of his skin, every curve of his flesh they can reach. he doesn’t make an effort to hold his noises and it turns you on more, if that is even possible at this point. his muscles continue to tense under your touches, even worse when you find his nipples to tease and play with. he’s perfect.
“it’s my turn.” he tries to say in the middle of the kiss, but you don’t hear a thing until he’s pulling away breathless and you’re whining in disappointment. “let me return the flavor please? i’ve been going crazy thinking about it. fuck, please.”
you sit up on the bed, pushing his naked chest challengingly. “what? you want to eat me out?“
he swallows, wide scandalized eyes failing to escape your keen observation. “i do.”
you watch him watch you strip off your sweater, “really…?” and then unclasp your bra, allowing its straps to provocatively slide down your shoulders.
“ye-yes, really.”
“then what’s stopping you?”
he whines out your name, interrupting himself with his craving for another kiss as he slips off your bra completely. it gets lost on the floor along with your sweater and you smirk deviously against his lips. “you’re testing me like this, huh? you’re so mean.”
you lie on your bed but you feel like you’re on top of the world. jungkook scatters kisses from your neck down to your chest, occasionally licking and biting as if he can’t help but to taste you. he uncovers another ticklish spot along your ribcage, but you bite your lip to control your giggles. instead, you touch his face to subtly guide him away from it.
he nuzzles his cheek against your palm, eyelids fluttering close as he presses a soft kiss to your wrist.
“may i?”
the shape of his lips lingers there. no one has ever kissed your wrist, nor have you ever imagined the first time to take place in bed.
your thumb strokes his cheek tenderly. the silence that follows there after concerns jungkook. he calls out your name, snapping you out of deep thought.
“may i?” he repeats himself.
he is patiently suspended over the waistband of your skirt. ever the gentleman, you half-smile.
“will you fuck me good after?”
the hand on his face sneaks down to pull up the skirt over your stomach; an even tinier piece of fabric covers the most intimate part of your body.
“whatever you want, baby, i will do it.” he promises.
you can hear the smirk in his voice, but you’re unable to form another response as his tongue laves over the lace, the warmth and wetness saturating through and stimulating your clit— once, slowly, and then over and over again.
you gasp, jolting and squirming in pleasure. he only makes it worse when he hums and you feel the vibration against you. you whine and he squeezes the soft flesh of your inner thighs in an attempt soothe you, keep you still, nuzzling his cheek as he meets your heated gaze.
“relax… is my baby always this sensitive?” he places a chaste kiss over your clit, causing your breath to hitch. “‘cause i’ve barely started.”
“jungkook,” you impatiently whine. “why’d you stop? just do it, please- need you.”
you’d wipe off that stupid smirk on his face if only you weren’t so pent up and you didn’t need his tongue.
“wow… didn’t think you’re the type to beg.” he muses, more so talking to himself. “i like it.”
hell no, you’re not.
but finally, he dives in, greedily pulling aside the flimsy material for a real taste of you. instead of a sharp remark, erotic sounds between a moan and a sob emit from your lips. your toes curl at the surge of mind-numbing ecstasy overwhelming your body. your hands fisting the sheets fly to his hair, frantically tugging like you can’t take it, but you beg and beg and beg him for more.
—
the last time you had sex was more than four months ago. you realized that you liked jungkook, and you simply didn’t want to do it with anybody else. sexual frustration combined with the romantic pining for a man that could potentially ruin your life; your youth has been nothing short of eventful.
has sex always been this good? you can’t remember. you’re drunk on pleasure even in the aftermath; you’re not sure if you’re really here or floating someplace else. as you catch your breath, jungkook soothes your body with gentle kisses and strokes of your skin, whispering sweet nothings. mostly babbling about how beautiful you are. and you feel it— feel beautiful, you mean.
you gradually open your eyes, vision adjusting to the divine view infront of you. jungkook is golden, skin still glistening with sweat under the warm glow of the lampshade. your heart skips a beat when he smiles at you.
“are you good? do you need anything? water?”
“again.”
his eyes widens. “again?“
“round two.” you giggle.
you push yourself up to reach his lips, but the kiss ends too soon for your liking.
“jungkook-” you complain.
“wait!”
you stare in bewilderment as he bends down from the edge of bed, appearing to be reaching for one of the objects discarded on the floor.
“what is it?”
“i found it!”
it’s the flower.
beaming with a hue of pure excitement, he tucks the azalea behind your ear for the second time tonight. pretty, he says it so quietly that you only understand through the movement of his lips.
he looks bewitched by you. in a different setting you’d be smug about it, but at this moment, you don’t understand. you can’t read what’s on his mind. if only you could see yourself through his eyes, even for just a moment, then maybe you’d understand why he’s dancing with fire and folding with his tower of cards.
it would be too silly and embarrassing to start crying now, right?
you swallow the lump in your throat, glassy eyes overshadowed by your boyfriend leaning in to plant a kiss on your forehead. as if that isn’t enough to entirely melt your heart, he intertwines his fingers with yours. your walls come crumbling down. in a haste to forbid your emotions from breaking free, you reach for him and slip your tongue in his mouth for a fervent kiss.
the burning tears that drip down to your temples are lost evidence you will bring to the grave.
—
“you’re not supposed to be awake.” jungkook complains as soon as he opens the door.
you only spare him a glance before returning to your task. instead of being under the sheets, you’re sat on the floor with his button-up shirt from last night laid across your lap. only several steps closer and he realizes that you’re sewing.
he exhales through his mouth in surprise, setting aside the tray of food on the bed before joining you on the floor.
“baby, what are you doing?! it’s fine. you don’t need to fix it.”
“i know, but i want to.” you reply, smiling, eyes still swollen from sleep focused on the needle and thread. “i stepped on one of the buttons so i looked for the two other.”
he’s dumbfounded watching you sew with so much care and precision. oh my god, he is in love with you. he thinks it so loud he gets terrified that he might’ve ended up speaking it out loud too.
“at least eat first!”
“wow, where did you buy ingredients so early?”
“early?” he scratches his head. “it’s lunch time.”
“what?!” your eyes grow twice their size. “jungkook, i’m late for work! what didn’t you wake me up?!”
“you- you we- you were tired!” he stutters defending himself.
he awkwardly catches his shirt when you throw it aside in a rush to get to the bathroom.
“baby, what about your food?!” he yells.
“wait, i forgot my towel-” you pop out from the doorframe, beaming at him breathlessly. “oh, please pack the food in my lunchbox!”
—
VI. SPEAKING TRUTHFULLY, YOU’RE THE ONE FOR ME
“i missed you.”
you giggle. “you look drunk.”
you hold jungkook’s cheeks in the palm of your hands, and he revels in the comforting warmth radiating from them.
he closes his eyes with a toothy grin. “i’m exhausted.”
“then go to sleep!”
“i don’t want to!”
he opens one eye, peeking at you.
“i came here so you won’t have to tire yourself out more going to my place.” you pout. “why do you hate resting?”
“this is me resting,” he says as a matter of fact, leaning down to give your lips a peck. “you are my rest.”
while it may be true that his body is begging for sleep, his mind is willing him to stay awake for as long as he can. he likes that he has nothing to prove here; he can simply be. you’re softly tracing his skin, forming constellations from the moles on his face, and he knows they’re created out of pure wonder and love.
“this one’s so cute!” you gush. “nobody talks about it enough.”
you place an affectionate kiss on the mole at the bridge of his nose.
“maybe because nobody has noticed it but you.”
you roll your eyes. “as if i’m the only one who spends their free time looking at your face.”
“but you’re the one who can view me in the highest quality.” he brings his face a little closer to tease you; noses almost brushing. “no one else can have me this close.”
“that’s right. or else you will never have me this close again.”
you squint your eyes at him as a threat; a frown making a permanent residence on your lips. fuck, when is he not thinking about kissing you?
“aigoo, look at you sulking!” he exclaims with a laugh.
“i’m not!”
“okay, whatever you say.” he replies in a sing-song voice.
it’s silent for a few beats as he engulfs you in his embrace. he feels like he’s being recharged, and with that comes along the overdue acknowledgement of his exhaustion. he meant it when he said that you are his rest.
“you know, i can’t help but to wonder sometimes.”
there is an undertone of hesitance in the way you spoke which is not typical of you. this prompts him to draw back a little, just enough to get a good look of your face.
“wonder about?”
“i’m not trying to put myself down or anything like that, by the way. i’m not expecting you to say the right thing or whatever either. i’m just-”
you pause, teeth nervously biting your lip. his heart aches in an instant when you avoid his eyes.
“i’m just genuinely curious? and saying what’s on my mind.”
“what is it?” he juts out his bottom lip. “you’re scaring me.”
“it’s not a big deal!”
“go on then. i’m listening.”
“i mean, i know i’m a catch, and- and i have a lot to offer, and i’m special in my own way. but you have a lot of…” you blink, trying to find the right term. “options.”
the word alone causes distaste to morph in his facial expression.
“okay, okay, i know! ugh, i don’t know how else to say it. but you have these beautiful and amazing people throwing themselves at you and sometimes i’m flabbergasted that you actively reject them for me.”
“baby, what are you even saying-”
“i’m serious. there are girls i would’ve totally gone for!”
“but they’re not you!”
he tilts your chin, smiling when at last, he recaptures your wide-eyed gaze.
“it’s really as simple as that.”
“but when we weren’t official yet-”
“i liked you from the start, if i didn’t make that obvious enough.”
you scrunch your cute nose; a smile of pure giddiness starting to form on your face. “you did… i knew.”
“i can’t believe you’re thinking about things like that. i only have eyes for you, baby. do you remember the first fight we had, huh? remember how i got drunk and cried?”
he doesn’t particularly like to relive the trauma and consequences of receiving unsolicited… almost naked… photos of an acquaintance while he’s watching a silly youtube video on his phone with his significant other. anything can be fixed in a relationship if both parties exert the effort, but trust, it is almost impossible to rebuild.
she didn’t know he was, is, in a relationship. in general, no one outside his inner circle really expects him to be in a relationship, or at least be in one that is serious or long-term. because, well, where would he find the time and energy for that kind of stuff?
but keeping you as a secret was his way of protecting you, and if you were hurting because of that, you didn’t show it.
oh, but that doesn’t mean you weren’t mad.
you needed some time to clear your head, you said. ignored his texts and phone calls; shooed him away when he begged at your front door. that issue may already been resolved, but he’s still not done proving that he’s solely committed to you.
you’re one of the most important people in his life. he loves you and he tends to get worried that you will never know much.
you gasp, hitting his chest. “when did that happen?!”
“why are you shocked…?” he narrows his eyes. “you didn’t know?”
“how would i know?”
he scratches his head in confusion. he should probably stop talking at this point and not dig his own grave, but his honesty leads him on. “…didn’t taehyungie-hyung send you a video? or did i make that up in my head?”
he immediately regrets it when the sparkle of mischief appears in your eyes.
“he’s still awake, right?”
“actually, he sleeps early nowadays!”
you wiggle out of his embrace, playfully sticking out your tongue at him. “i’ll go get the copy from him right now.”
“it was so long ago. it’s probably deleted by now!”
“wouldn’t hurt to check.”
“baby, no! it’s embarrassing!” he attempts to pull you back, but his hands barely reach you. “let’s just go to sleep, hm? didn’t you come here to put me to sleep?”
“aw, my love…”
he melts when you gingerly stroke his hair too. he will never live it down if his friends witnessed you babying him and him loving it.
“just close your eyes.”
and with your hand obstructing his vision, he sees pitch black and floating spots and flecks.
“i’ll be back in a minute! mwah!”
but despite his sense of sight being taken away, he still feels you spring off the mattress. the weight of your feet against the floor resonates along with the shout of your name as he follows you out of his bedroom.
you squeal in panic when you realize that you’re being chased. “go back to bed!”
“i won’t unless you go back with me!”
this is one of the instances in which jungkook is grateful for his gifts of athletic prowess and long limbs.
with little to no effort, he overtakes you in the race towards taehyung’s bedroom. doe eyes akin to a deer caught in the headlights, he swings the door open.
taehyung’s eyes flicker up from his phone. he’s frankly not surprised about the intrusion, not after hearing the commotion outside.
“need anything?”
“all the videos you have of him drunk!”
“hyung, no! you can’t give it!”
—
VII. THE CHOICE TO STAY
“give it to me.”
the blanket that jungkook carried from the bedroom is snatched away from his hands. it becomes unfurled and thrown over to shield your shivering vessel from the cold. without a word, he crawls on the couch and under the blanket, hugging you from behind as you catch up on your ongoing tv shows.
relief… he’s been looking forward to this all day.
the tension in his muscles, from head to toe, begin to fade away, especially as you take his hand in yours so you can give it a chaste kiss. it’s quick, but long enough for him to feel the softness of your lips. his hug tightens. he remains silent as he inhales, and exhales, slow and calm. he’s not trying to fall asleep as much as trying to shut down his brain. they say the world has stopped but from his point of view, it has erupted into chaos and he has no other choice but to watch it fall apart and to attempt to rebuild it at the same time. god knows he is doing the best he can but it feels like his best will never not be lacking.
jungkook is scared, and he is more scared knowing that everyone else is too. but for the past two years, whether you’re whole or broken, whether he’s climbing or falling— it never made a difference. you’ve always stayed.
he finds comfort in knowing that he has this constant among the ominous unknown.
his little firefly; your light won’t go out even as the world lets out its final sigh.
“my love, why are you sad?”
you flipped to your other side when another commercial break rolled in; now you’re hovering over him, curious eyes studying every inch of his face.
“is my love hurt anywhere?” you coo. “where should i kiss?”
his body shakes with quiet laughter as you pepper his face with kisses, trailing down to his jaw until you reach the juncture between his neck and shoulder.
“or do you want a massage? here? know you had a looong day.”
“really? how’d you know?”
“yeah, ‘cause you haven’t showered. you’re all stinky.”
“oh, am i?” he playfully pinches your waist, which you react to with a drawn out whine. “and yet you’re still cuddling with me.”
“so? do you need my massage therapy services or not?!”
“no. i only need my lover, please.” he pleads with droopy eyelids, emphasizing his request by tangling his limbs with yours.
he can’t hide from you like he hides from himself. you’re much more gentler with his heart than he is; unconciously, he trusts you more with it.
“you have me. what’s wrong?”
your hands anchored on the sofa are swept away as he pulls you closer, your weight crashing down on him entirely. he nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck, breathing in your natural scent and the lavender in your body wash.
“eh, it’s just work… everything that could go wrong is going wrong. we’re trying to figure things out, but what can we do really…? there’s nothing. i- this-this whole thing is just so fucking frustrating, baby. i’m sorry.”
“it’s not just work! it’s your reason for living. of course this is frustrating and painful for you. it’s understandable to feel that way.”
he can practically hear you pouting. he is proven right when you lift your head, leaning in to give him a kiss. he smiles against your lips. he loves you so much.
“so please don’t burn yourself out trying to be okay. you have me by your side who can help you carry your burdens.”
it was scary at the beginning, but now it only feels right. it is impossible not to love you with all of his heart and soul; you deserve nothing less and more than what he can give. when you hug him, he hugs you back tighter.
“you’re my reason to live too.”
“i shouldn’t be. what if i die before you?”
“yah, don’t says things like that!” he scolds you faster than he can think, eyebrows knitted together and frown a tad deeper. “you won’t. it won’t happen.”
“i will die eventually.” you grimace.
“please don’t say such things as ‘i want you to move on and meet someone else and fall in love again and remarry.’ i don’t want to hear it!” he rambles so fast that he doesn’t even understand himself, stumbling and lisping. “i will seriously cry!”
“oh, i don’t care for things like that.”
you make yourself more comfortable; your boyfriend as your own personal bed. sleeping on top of him has been a natural occurence these days, not that he minds. you’re so soft and warm. it’s like hugging a stuffed toy to sleep. still, he’s mindful of you falling off the couch again.
“do whatever you like.” your eyes meet as you bestow him with a smile. “i’ll be dead; i won’t even know what happens next.”
“you don’t care? huh…” he huffs over the hypothetical.
the mere consideration of it feels like cheating. he knows that it technically isn’t, but he can’t imagine spending the rest of his life with someone who isn’t you. nevertheless, if he was being honest and it was the other way around, he’d probably do tell you to leave your heart open. but the topic is not the other way around and jungkook’s heart is stubbornly bound to you.
“why am i getting upset?”
“i don’t care because i’m confident.” you say candidly. “you can fall in love with someone else, but no one will ever love you the way that i do.”
ah, and here comes a side of you that he knows and loves. he swears that cupid is in the room and his heart was just hit by another one of his arrows. it feels so good to be loved so fearlessly.
“i know, so why even bother?” he arrives at a conclusion to his defense, but there’s a much better solution. “please never ever leave me so i won’t have to deal with this dilemma.”
he catches you roll your eyes before he comes face-to-face with the back of your head. your cheek rests on top of his chest; he feels it above his beating heart.
“what then? are we supposed to die together?”
he hums in thought. “it’s not a totally bad idea. we live together, so wouldn’t that make sense too?”
“wow, very shakespearean of you.”
“oh, that’s right! see? isn’t this your type of thing? let’s do it!”
“oh my god, you’re so stupid.” you hide your face behind your hand, giggling in disbelief of the sharp turn this conversation took.
jungkook loves making you laugh. for a little while, he forgets everything else. the world outside may be terrifying but you have your own in your shared apartment. you’re his reason to live too. you ignite the life in his veins. you kiss him with an appetite for passion and love and he enters heaven on earth.
“thank you.” you mumble against his lips.
“thank you?”
“for loving me, for living with me…” your voice wavers and his heart drops to his stomach. he can hold back his tears, but never when he sees yours flowing. “even when you’re tired and having a hard time.”
“you make it sound like a chore, but the truth is loving you gives me the strength to work hard everyday. you do know that, right? baby?” he strokes your hair tenderly, hoping that you receive his sincerity. “i should be the one thanking you… i should say it more often. you didn’t give up on loving me even when it was hurting you.”
“it’s all in the past… you were hurting too.” you reply in a faint whisper. “i love you.”
cupid must owe him a tremendous favor to have granted him the purest form of love a human being could have.
he plants a kiss on your forehead, noticing the rise of your shoulders. an endearing thing they occasionally do when you’re happy, shy, or flattered. it’s one of the many things he learned about you since you started living under the same roof.
he’s been learning about himself too. he tried saving you from himself but this fact is now well-established— you are the sun; it only hurts him to push you away because you’re in everything. it’s the little things that will haunt him if lost. when pieced together, they declare that you love him and he loves you.
the words i’m going home have gained more meaning and he’s excited to say them at the end of each day. he talks about his day and you talk about yours. you find out he’s the reason your lotion ran out too fast again and you chase him around the apartment until he promises to buy you the biggest bottle. you play rock-paper-scissors to figure out who will wash the dishes or receive the food from the delivery guy. you watch too many cooking videos on his phone until one of you falls asleep. most of the time it’s you. tonight, it’s still you.
he must confess that up to this day, he admires you when you sleep. you are safe and sound, and he is mended in places he did not know existed.
it’s time to sleep, he also decides.
he cocoons you in the blanket, then provides another layer of warmth which is his body. once settled, he closes his eyes, sighing in contentment. “what’s the use of our giant bed if we keep on sleeping on the couch?”
—
(?). AN ETERNAL RECORD: MY TREASURE, MY LOVE (ARCHIVED)
[DEC 25 ‘17 02:12AM]
“is it rolling?”
“yes, it’s rolling.”
you excitedly look at the film camera from the thick pile of snow on the ground, moving your arms up and down and your legs from side to side. an attempt to create a snow angel.
your giggles and the crackles of the snow are heard through the speaker.
the lens zoom in on your face.
childlike joy in the form of an everlasting smile and snowflakes on your hair.
“am i doing it?!”
“you are!”
“really?”
“really!”
“is it pretty?”
your face comes out of the frame. for a second only the white snow is seen, and then the dark brown of your coat as you skip towards the camera.
“let me watch!”
the camera shakes before it pans to the ground.
rustling of clothes and a shy, panicked voice.
“hold on- i-i’ll just fix the…”
“why?”
“huh, what do i do?” a forced laugh to mask nervousness. “i think it didn’t save-”
#jungkook#jungkook fluff#jungkook angst#jungkook smut#jungkook drabble#jungkook one shot#jungkook scenario#jungkook imagine#jungkook x reader#jungkook x you#jungkook au#jungkook fic#jungkook fanfic#bts fluff#bts reaction
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today is my birthday! i’m 33 today and i have done an ungodly amount of stupid shit in my life that honestly probably should have gotten me killed. so here are 33 hard-won things i’ve learned that i wish someone had told me sooner.
whenever you buy an object, you are going to own that object for your entire life unless you make the conscious decision to throw it away or give it a new home. maybe other people don’t struggle with this as much as i do, but i’ve grown to become a little exhausted by finding a thing and realizing i don’t want it anymore, but i don’t have the energy or motivation to do anything with it. signed, a woman with a packed 10x10 storage unit who is now extremely hesitant to buy new things.
food, and by that i mean good food (and by that i don’t necessarily mean healthy food, but food of good quality that you love), is necessary to live, and buying it, preparing it, and eating it is not a chore. the sooner you accept this and make food a priority in your life, the healthier you’ll be.
speaking of food, not everything you buy should be the cheapest version of it. personally i’ve found it’s always worth it to splurge on good olive oil, butter, and canned tomatoes. for years i thought i was an awful cook because i was cooking with cheap, disgusting olive oil that made my food taste like shit.
speaking of food part 2, i can’t BELIEVE how long this took me to figure out, but mise en place is the real real. get your shit out and organized and prepped *before* you start cooking, even if it makes things take longer. and yes, it is always worth it to do the dishes as you go, which pisses me off.
when i was teaching myself how to cook and feeling daunted about it, the best advice i ever got was to aim to learn 15 recipes and then put them in rotation.
this is the most horrific and awful truth i have forced myself to accept: there may come a day you can no longer digest your favorite foods, and you will either have to stop eating them, or remain very close to a toilet. i’m sorry.
other people are always going to misperceive you and misunderstand you, sometimes willfully. other people’s opinions of you don’t actually have anything to do with you. they’re not your business, and you don’t have to worry about it or change yourself.
when innocuous or neutral things make you irrationally angry or upset, step back, realize you’re having a big reaction, and then when you’re ready, pay very close attention to the thing that upset you, because you’re about to learn something important about yourself.
a pill sorter can save your life. i don’t know how i managed my meds without one.
sometimes college is about learning stuff, and not about becoming something.
no matter how many perfectionist tendencies you have, it’s worth it to remind yourself that no matter how much of a mess you actually are, you deserve to be loved.
if you’re always forgetting to do important but tedious things, set an alarm and set aside one hour of each week, not to do the important tedious things, but to assess what needs to be done, and *schedule* the important tedious things for the following week. this literally changed my life.
during that hour, make a meal plan too. the point of doing this is condense the time in which you’re making decisions (what to do, what to eat, etc) so you don’t have to burden yourself with them throughout the week. decision fatigue is real. any way you can alleviate that is a good thing.
learn the difference between aggressive, passive, passive-aggressive, and assertive behavior. recognize when you’re being one of the first three, re-assess and aim for being assertive, even if it’s hard.
you can tell you’ve processed trauma, not when the traumatic thing stops upsetting you to think about, but when the traumatic thing takes up the same size in your brain as all your other memories.
if you’re one of those people who never seems to finish projects or follow through with things, there’s a chance you may just grow out of it naturally. until then, follow your interests and don’t feel bad about putting down a hobby to pick up another.
if you love stickers but have sticker anxiety, buy vinyl stickers. you can re-stick them.
there are only a few careers i can think of that you have to commit to early in life because getting the undergraduate credentials is a pain in the ass (teachers, doctors, and engineers, from my research). nearly everything else you can switch to later, which takes a LOT of pressure off having to figure out what you want to do with your life.
people say there’s no money in becoming an artist, writer, musician, etc. actually there’s a ton of money in all of those things, it’s just in the stuff other people want you to make and never what you want to make. it’s still worth it to develop the creative skill and not force yourself into business school because it’s more “practical” or whatever.
sleep when you’re tired. SLEEP WHEN YOU’RE TIRED. don’t beat yourself up about it, don’t tell yourself you shouldn’t be tired or that you’ve already slept too much, just take a fucking nap. you would never say “hm i’ve already had enough water today, therefore i should not be thirsty” so don’t treat sleep the same way.
when you build a piece of furniture from target or ikea or whatever, the first thing you should do is count all the little screws and things to make sure everything’s there that should be. it sucks to get halfway into putting something together only to find there’s a piece missing and you have to go buy it.
learn to travel by yourself, go out to eat by yourself, see a movie by yourself. in my early 20s i was scared to do these things, but i do them so often now i don’t even think about it. it’s the most fulfilling skill i’ve ever learned.
adding to the above, if you’re a people-pleaser, being alone is especially important, because you’ve probably developed the habit of making the people you’re with more comfortable and happy than yourself, and you’re missing a lot of the beautiful and interesting things around you. when you’re by yourself, you can focus on what *you* want without guilt.
sometimes you’ll want to break things off with a friend for reasons that are no one’s fault, and you don’t want it to be volatile or make a big thing of it, in which case the goal is to simply fade out of their life. it is okay to let people go.
shame is useless. get rid of it.
no matter how much of yourself you put into your art (or writing, or music, or whatever), when people criticize it, they are not criticizing you. they are having a reaction colored by their own tastes and perspectives. their opinion of your work has nothing to do with you. you don’t have to take everyone’s feedback. in fact you don’t have to take anyone’s feedback. the other side to this coin unfortunately is that compliments don’t have anything to do with you either. it’s good to accept this because it means you’ll stop seeking validation from other people and won’t let anyone else’s perspectives impact your work. anything nice anyone says about your work is merely a bonus to an already good thing.
if you’re an artist of any kind, take one day a year to look up opportunities like grants, funding, residencies, workshops, whatever. put the due dates of all of them on a calendar for the year following and get into the habit of applying for stuff. getting rejected sucks, application fees suck, but in all the years i’ve been doing this, it has always, always been worth it. these things give you a chance not only to help fund and support what you’re passionate about, but they force you to take your own work seriously, and that is something that’s absolutely necessary in order to be successful.
you must become your own greatest advocate. in all respects--in health, in love, in happiness, in freedom, you must. no one will ever fight as hard for you as you will. this in turn will give you the strength and motivation to help others fight for themselves too. the only way the world will ever get better is if every person on this planet learns to see themselves as equals to everyone around them.
brag about yourself as often as you can. for one, people develop their perceptions of you based on how you treat yourself and speak about yourself. but for two, it’s the fastest way to figure out which people to keep in your life, because they’re the ones who are going “oh hell yeah, you’re awesome.”
be the person other people want to brag to.
at some point in your life, someone is going to hurt you, and it’s going to be willful and intentional. it is not worth it to waste brain space figuring out why they did it or why you think you deserved it. all you have to do is let yourself feel that pain, acknowledge it, and try to move on.
no matter how bad off you think you are, recovery is possible. the first and hardest step is to learn you’re worth the time and effort it takes to recover from the awful things that have happened to you.
developing an expertise does not mean you’re getting objectively better at something. becoming an expert is only the process of seeing your mistakes and having the patience to sit in the discomfort of not knowing how to fix them.
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𝐁𝐚𝐛𝐲𝐬𝐚𝐭 𝐛𝐲 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝.
𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐄'𝐒 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐒𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑
Brothers bestfriend! Chris + needy! Nate’s lil sis
prompt: Nate ( ur older brother ) wants to go out for a bit with some of his other friends and he doesn’t trust you enough to stay home by urself without mom and dad since they won’t be there either. So he asks one of his best friend Chris to stay over and watch you, Matt and nick know ur crush on Chris so they pretend they can’t come.
Part 01
contains: masturbation ( no actual sex ), use of y/n ( sorry I have to ) dirty fantasies ( pet names, rough! Chris, dirty talk, degrading, forced head etc just beyond FILTHLY imagination ), use of vibrator on reader, caught by Chris, FORESHADOWING, fantasy will be like this
Nate are you serious I’m not 12! I whine when said he was gonna find a baby sitter for me knowing how much it pisses me off
I’m Nate doe’s little sister I’m 18, we’ve Been close to his bestfriends the sturniolo triplets. So obviously him being my brother naturally I got to know them.
Nick
I clicked with him superrr fast, I love his energy and when I found out he was gay that just made it all the better because I’ve always wanted a gay bestfriend, and we always have sleepovers :)
Matt
Matt’s absolutely adorable I love him he always helps me calm down whenever I’m about to or am having a panic attack, I remember one time during a test I forgot everything and almost had one and he slid me the answers. Love that kid
now there’s a reason I saved Chris for last,
Chris
chris and I know each other just as well if not even more then I do his other two brothers, we haven’t done anything unfortunately. I’ve had a crush on him since middle school.
First I just wanted to kiss him and hold his hand.
Then go to his house and do some more.
Then now, as an 18 year old I wanted him to fuck my Brains out.
I’m around him all the time since we all live in LA and always hanging out, I always see him shirtless and fucking hell it turns me on, I always get lucky since nick and matt found of my attraction to his brother they always snap me or text me pictures of him.
What sucks is I cant have him. It would take my life 1000 times over for me to be able to fuck chris sturniolo, and it sucks because my brother nate does not play that shit.
He strictly said "your not allowed to date any of them" obviously referring to matt and Chris.
Which also doesn't help because my wants and desires a hormonal teenage-adult girl only grow more whenever he comes around, chris is always there.
Now today, nate had to run some errands and nick matt and chris used to watch me when I was younger if my parents couldn't
Buttt, nick and matt "could not come due to personal issues" so. Your guess is right, im gonna be alone with chris for hours.
That thought alone made me soak in my p-
“Y/n! are you listening to me kid?” My older brother chuckles leaning against my doorway of my room as im on my bed watching "The Vampire Diaries".
“Huh? oh yeah im listening matt and nick cant come so chris is because im fucking 11.” I roll my eyes hiding my excitement from him watching me.
“Don't think of any weird shit alright? He's just watching you so don't-“
“Ugh is he here yet? You're annoying me already.” I groan shifting in my sheets and taking a sip from my celsius hearin our door open, they have a key.
“Welp thats chris.” Nate says tilting his head for me to get up.
I get up from the sheets wearing some pink sleep shorts and a white t-shirt and he raises an eyebrow.
“Your wearing THAT? around chris?” Nate chuckles and I flip him off.
“Hey! I heard that!.” Chris yells coming up the stairs sounding offended.
He's now at the top of the steps. oh my fuck he looks so good.
Its around 6ish in LA right now and hes wearing a black tank top and grey fresh love sweats, slight stubble and his hair was a bit messy which I always liked and my eyes immediately drifted to his natural bulge in his pants as him and Nate were talking.
“Just make sure she doesn’t get into any trouble.” Nate puts his arm around me giving me a hug and Chris chuckles.
“Don’t worry bro she’s safe with me.” He says before dapping him up as Nate leaves the house. yeah safer if you were balls deep inside
Oh god Chris sh-shit so-d-deep inside me
Yeah? You feel me deep inside you baby?
bro she’s like zoning out today. Nate chuckled and I snap out of it
Whatever no I wasn’t! Just go!
Soon after it was just me and Chris so we made our way down to the living room
“Where are ur other two clones?” I chuckle getting situated on the couch before turning on a movie saltburn
“they have “personal issues”.” He said rolling his eyes causing a small laugh to fall from my lips.
“So it’s just you and me little one.” A smirk curving on his lips, just enough for my panties to be soaked.
Shut up Chris I’m 18.I mutter trying to watch the movie in peace and he chuckles
the movie went on and it was now, the bathtub scene where jacob elordi ( Felix ) is jerking off.
I peer over to Chris whose eyes are clearly fixated on the screen as my squeeze my thighs together under the blanket feeling all my hormonal thoughts leaking through my panties.
This had nothing to do with the movie, it’s the thought for Chris doing that to himself that had turned me on most. The tension so thick a knife couldn’t even cut through.
“Uhm I-i gotta go to the bathroom”. I nearly choke and I fix my shorts placing the blanket down where I was sitting.
“Don’t take to long I’ll miss you.” He chuckles and that didn’t help.
I go to my room and close the door squeezing my eyes shut.
I had maybe 5 minutes to relieve myself.
I quickly reach into my drawer grabbing my vibrating dildo and the remote for it.
I pull down my shorts and panties and spread my legs letting the tip of the toy get coated in my wetness and I bite my lip slightly feeling the thickness of it.
I turned it on letting out a soft moan slowly inserting it, wishing this was Chris’s dick instead.
I began thrusting the toy in and out of my pussy letting the squelching sounds of arousal grow letting it drip down curling my toes throwing my head on the pillows allowing my mind to drift
I was in Chris’s/my room my head smushed in the pillows as his cock rammed inside me whilst I was on my stomach. His hips slamming against my ass and his hand wrapped around my lower stomach as I cried out his name
Fuck fuckk so d-deep- I whimper into the pillows as he was bringing me to my 4th orgasm, we had switched numerous positions and my legs were quivering in front of him as he laid a hard snack to my ass chucking behind me.
such a fucking slut letting me fuck you like this, imagine if ur brother found out his little sister was getting her pussy pounded by his bestfriend. He laid another harsh smack to my ass and I jolted forward.
stretched this pussy out so good- he groans rubbing my clit to chase both our orgasms.
ngh- o-oh shit- fuck- I gripped the sheets tightly curses of Chris’s name flew out my mouth feeling my eyes water from the angle of his hips thrusting allowing his thick cock to hit every single spot inside me
come on sweetheart cum for me, you have another one in you yeah? He grunted lowly in my ear kissing me sloppily as a string of Saliva parts from our lips each time we kiss moaning into each others mouths.
“Oh fuck Chris I-“ I curl my toes and yell loudly as I’m about to release on the toy before I look up and see Chris. Was. Watching me.
“Were you playing with yourself?” Chris leans on the doorway of my room his eyes darting to between ny legs as I was thrusting the toy in and out of me and I quickly covered up my cheeks flush with embarrassment.
“Uhm…maybe. Sorry I-I’ll be down in a second-“
Maybe I can help. Chris says closing the door to my room approaching my bed
@mattsleftnipple03 @bernardsleftbootycheek @sturniolopowers @gdsvhtwa @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @worldlxvlys @chrisslut25 @princessbetsy123-blog @mattslolita @guccifrog @blahbel668 @mattsneezing @trickywritters @hearts4chris
@nonamegirlxsturniolo @luvmxtt @theyluv-meee @mattsnymphette @hoesformatt @luv4kozume @kikisturnioloo @pepsiimaxx @babyddolly @iiheartstef @junnniiieee07 @ast3ro1dzz @sturniolowhore @st7rnioioss @emma4eva @braindead4l @ihearttsyouu @blondiesjailer @kqyslyho3 @sturnsfav @sunsetsturniolos @sturniololoverr @stqrnstars @dlyansworld @soimightlikeoldmen69 @abbie13sworld @lacysturniolo @sturniol0s @chrissgirlsstuff @leah-loves-lilies @luhsexcbihh @nicksmainbitch
#chris sturniolo#matt sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#sturniolo smut#nick sturniolo#chris sturniolo smut#christopher sturniolo#sturniolo fanfic#smut#nicolas sturniolo#hearts4chriss#babyddolly is my fucking girl#🩷 nate doe’s little sister series!
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holi-blaze || jeon jungkook (m)
title: holi-blaze
pairing: dealer!jeon jungkook x (f)reader
genre/rating: f*ckbuddies/unestablished relationship, smut, mature/explicit, 18+
summary: it's your first time spending the holidays together, and jungkook isn't in the mood. but... you think you can change his mind.
warnings: listen…..“that’s OUR man, thank you to OUR man!!!”, swearing, mentions w**d, mentions Christmas/holidays, protected s*x but mentions unprotected s*x, spanking, reader wears lingerie, a** worshipping, back shots, missionary, b*ndage/restraints, f*ngering, teasing/foreplay, a touch of roleplay (Jungkook might have a little crush on Martha May Whovier), back scratching, praise, squ*rting, tongue kissing, make up s*x, Dom/sub themes, n*pple sucking, biting, begging, some aftercare, mistletoe… or not??, idk why i’m smiling but i love them lol
wc: 2.5k
release date: december 30th, 2023; 11:33pm est
note: it’s been about 4 months since i posted. this is embarrassing. anyway, i didn’t edit this bc i didn’t have a computer. this’ll be the last update for this series for a while so i hope this holds you. i have a bigger project i’m working on currently so… i hope to see you in 2024. love you !!
series masterlist | main masterlist | ao3 version | inbox | join the taglist
“Aye, I’m home! Where are…”
Jungkook finds you standing in his living room when he enters his apartment. He probably expected to find you bundled up on the couch watching a holiday marathon, and that’s exactly what you plan on doing.
That was until you walked in and discovered everything he’s been hiding from you. Now you know why he hasn’t invited you over in two weeks.
All month he’s been complaining about the holidays and pissing on your parade whenever you get excited about the TikTok holiday DIYs. Only for him to decorate his entire living room like it’s a Holiday Cheermeister. He definitely has outdone himself with this surprise. Now, it’s time to return the favor.
His keys fall on the floor, and you can only imagine what’s going through his mind.
“Oh…” He takes a long pause, processing the image before him. “Damn, love.”
You hope that’s a good sign. This is your first time wearing lingerie, and you aren’t even sure if Jungkook is into it.
“Um… Your keys?”
“Come here,” he beckons.
Your marabou heels move across the floor, feathers tickling your oiled skin with each step. Your matching robe—thin and sheer—barely conceals your lack of clothing underneath it. You can feel the fabric dragging behind you as it's carried by a gentle breeze.
Jungkook’s brown eyes never look away as you strut in his direction. When you approach him, you’re nearly swept off your feet by how good he smells.
His finger motions for you to spin and show him the entire outfit.
“Twirl, baby.”
You purposefully take your time and give him the 360 view, letting your robe fall once your back is facing him. You’re starting to feel a bit more confident now that you’ve gotten the big reveal out of the way. Jungkook biting his bottom lip tells you that he likes what he sees so far.
“Sexy. Like Martha May.”
You whisper to yourself as you take a step closer. “Martha May, huh?”
Jungkook nods.
“ Yeah… I’m high key fucking with it, though.”
Now, that’s good to hear because he’s given you an idea.
“Well, thank you… Mr. Grinch.”
Jungkook tilts his head, pretending to be confused. Eventually, he reveals a mischievous grin.
“I’ve been that bad, huh?”
“The worst,” you reply.
You don’t pull away when he reaches for your hand. It’s been almost two weeks since you’ve had any contact. You’re deprived; desperate.
Even if you were still mad at him, your pride is long gone. So, instead of pouncing on him, you allow him to guide you to the bedroom.
“It only gets worse, love.”
Well, damn.
“How much worse?” you quiz, already knowing the answer to the question. He looks over his shoulder as he opens his bedroom door.
“You’re gonna fuck around and find out if you keep playing with me.”
As Jungkook guides you into his room, you try to hold back your smile. You always find thrill in testing his patience. Whatever it takes for him to pound you into his mattress, you’ll try it.
Once inside, he walks over to the bed and sits on his bed. You grip onto his green bomber jacket while he caresses and gently kneads your thighs, making you melt into his hands. You push out your chest, so he can have a better look at the red lace that barely covers your tits.
He can’t stop himself from staring. His mouth waters as the sinful thoughts run through his mind. During his journey all over your body, his hand accidentally touches something you’re clutching in your right hand.
He frowns. “What are those for?”
You hold up the cordless lights that you snatched from your little desk tree at work with a smirk.
“Dunno,” you shrug. “They’re yours. Get creative.”
Jungkook stands up, and you place the cord in his hand. He gestures towards the bed, and tells you to get on it.
“Alright, go,” he orders.
“Okay.”
You climb on the bed, positioning yourself on your hands and knees. He didn’t tell you to lie down, but you figured he’d appreciate seeing your outfit from this angle.
“Like this?”
“Just like that,” he approves.
It isn’t long before you feel the palms of his hands touching your ass. They’re still a little cold, but eventually heat up due to the warmth of your flesh. You know that he could do this for hours, just admiring the way it jiggles and how soft it feels in his hands.
However, tonight he wastes no time giving your pussy attention, the opening in the center of your panties giving him easy access to your slit.
“Fuck.”
His reaction makes you want to turn around and see his reaction, but you’re afraid you might ruin the foreplay and beg him to fuck you now. So, with clenched teeth, you try to suppress your eagerness to have him inside of you; but you’re already close to failing.
“One of these days I’m just gonna say fuck it and raw dog you.”
You lose control of your outbursts when he pushes his thumb into your pussy. You beg him for more, but he just pulls out, leaving you disappointed.
“Jungkook!”
He chuckles. “Alright, alright. Give me your hands, love.”
At Jungkook’s request, you move your hands behind you.
He’s so close that his breath tickles the tiny hair on the back of your neck. Your body shivers as his fingers gently touch your skin, sliding down your arm until he reaches your hands.
When he speaks, the sound of his voice makes you weak. No matter how hard you clench your knees are nothing but jelly, making it nearly impossible to support your weight.
“You still like to be tied up and shit, right?”
Oh unholy fucking night.
“I do.”
“That’s my girl,” he boasts.
Your heart begins to race with excitement when you feel the cord tightening around your wrists. It doesn’t take Jungkook a long time to secure a few knots.
“Is this okay? Not too tight?”
Despite your position once he bends you over again, your body is still relaxed. You know you’re in safe hands. He’s earned your trust when it comes to your body, so you don’t mind if he takes control. You actually enjoy it more than he does.
“No, I’m fine,” you answer. “I’m excited.”
“Hm. I can tell.”
It is then you realize that your thighs are rubbing together, smearing a mess of your sticky juices between them. The sound of Jungkook spreading your legs has you burying your face in his sheets.
“No hiding.”
You lift your head and nod. “Sorry.”
“It’s all good. Do you remember we play?”
“You call the shots. I’m in control.”
Jungkook hums his approval, but before he can ask you anything else.
“...And I remember how to free myself,” you add. “Just in case.”
“You’re so perfect,” he praises.
A bit of pride swells in your chest when he says this. He tells you this almost every day, but it still makes you smile from ear to ear.
The next thing you hear is Jungkook fishing for condoms in his nightstand drawer. Once he finds them, he returns and removes his clothes. You catch a glimpse of his figure behind you, and it’s that image you’ll hold on to when he’s taking you from behind.
When Jungkook spreads your globes, a small moan escapes your lips despite your attempt to bite it back.
“Ready?”
“So, so…ready,” you reply.
You whimper as the tip of his dick probes gently at your entrance. Your body is shaking from the adrenaline pumping through your veins. It feels like it's been months since you’ve felt his thick cock stretching you open.
“I know,” he coos. “Just relax, sweetheart.”
You take a deep breath to calm yourself; and eventually, your muscles relax. Jungkook steals this moment to slowly slide into you.
“Fuck!”
“Gotta fuck you now, love,” Jungkook groans.
He starts fucking you slowly, but fast enough to have an orgasm brewing deep within your core.
You can hear him panting as he digs his nails into your skin. Your shoes drop to the floor because your toes are curling from the pleasure you’re receiving. If Jungkook weren’t gripping your waist, you’d be lying on your belly because you’re trembling too much to keep yourself up.
“You feel like a fucking glove.”
You know he can feel your walls squeezing and hugging his cock, desperately trying to keep him inside. Your moans become louder which each slap Jungkook delivers to your ass. The pain ripples down your globes, traveling straight to your dripping pussy—leaking onto his throbbing dick.
“So deep…”
It’s not long before you’re squirting all over him. He laughs, not caring about his ruined sheets.
“There she goes.”
Jungkook then starts loosening your restraints, leaving you confused. You’re afraid you messed up, but he assures you that’s not the case.
“I need to see you,” he utters.
Jungkook frees your hands and flips you over swiftly, leaving your head spinning. He allows your eyes to focus before he lowers himself and aligns with your entrance once more. You wrap your limbs around him, bringing him closer so you can feel his warm skin pressed against yours.
Your wetness allows him to enter you smoothly. The intrusion isn’t as intense as before, but it leaves you breathless due to your sensitivity.
You accept the kisses he leaves down your neck. He drags his hot tongue across your skin agonizingly slow while he’s buried inside you, not moving an inch until you’re begging him to.
“Baby, please fuck me. I can’t—”
“Just give me a second, love,” he whispers.
Jungkook’s mouth finds your breasts, and he takes his time giving each of them attention. Your back arches off the bed when he wraps his lips around your nipple.
You try to be patient, but your body can’t handle any more teasing. Your hips begin to move on their own, immediately grabbing Jungkook’s attention.
“So eager,” he teases, gripping your hips to stop you.
“Jungkook, I need to cum.”
“Yeah?... Wanna make another mess?”
“Please.”
He pulls out and then with a snap of his hips, he slams into you. He does it again, and again—making you scream his name. You drag your nails down his back, making him hiss from the stinging pain traveling across his skin.
“Do it,” he grunts, fucking you deeper. “Cum.”
“Oh, fuck.”
You stop holding it in, and finally allow the tightened coil to snap. Pleasure ripples through your body, and everything goes silent except for the familiar ringing in your ears. Your eyes roll back and your body stiffens in Jungkook’s arms.
“Fuck! You’re squeezing so tight.”
“I’m cumming!” you scream.
He keeps fucking you, talking you through it until you finally calm down enough to relax your limbs. Jungkook’s soothing voice brings you back to reality.
“Good, baby. That’s good.”
You lie on your back, tears in your eyes as you watch him above you. His body trembles as he tries to hold on, but you know he’s close. You can tell by the way he twitches inside of you.
“This is my shit, understand? My pussy,” he claims. “Okay?”
You nod weakly, still feeling the bliss of your release.
“Yeah, it’s yours. Only yours.”
“And you’re mine too, right?”
He doesn’t even have to ask. Of course, you are.
“Always.”
You pull him closer and kiss his lips, but both of you become greedy for more. His strokes are gentle but you still gasp, allowing him to slip his tongue into your mouth. Your muffled cries of pleasure start to fill the room as you deepen the kiss.
You’re dizzy by the time he pulls away, unable to focus on anything but the lingering taste of him on your lips. Once again, his voice brings you back.
“Damn it,” he growls.
After two more uncoordinated thrusts, he reaches his peak and spills his warm cum into the condom. Panting and breathless, he falls on top of you, and you start running your fingers through his hair.
You stay in this position for only a few minutes, before he’s climbing out of bed.
“Wait—”
You try to grab his arm, but he grabs his sweats and slips away, leaving a small pout on your face.
“I’ll be right back, love.”
You sigh. “Okay.”
You wait a few minutes before you let your curiosity run wild. You begin to wonder what he’s doing, so you decide to go look for him.
Just as you enter the living room, Jungkook appears from the kitchen with an ice pack and a bottle of water.
“How are you?” he asks, handing you the little blue compress. “It’s for your wrists.”
“I’m okay, you?”
Jungkook nods. “Still seeing stars, but I’ve never felt better.”
Silence follows, but it’s peaceful. You use the moment to take in everything once again.
“Thank you,” you say eventually.
“For?”
“All this!”
You point around the room at all of the decor he must have spent hours putting up. It could honestly have been a little stocking and you still would have appreciated his effort. You know he only did it for you, even though he wasn’t in the mood.
“I was just trying to make it up to you,” he shrugs.
“You didn’t have to—”
“I wanted to.”
You smile. “Well, thanks Grinchy. But I didn’t want to force you.”
He promises that he didn’t feel obligated, and you take his word for it. It’s been a challenge but you’ve learned to accept when he offers to do something nice for you. So if it involves spending time with him, you’ll accept every gift he gives you.
Placing the ice pack on the coffee table, you step forward and wrap your arms around him.
“I’m trying, love,” he sighs.
“You’re doing great,” you assure.
“No, I mean… It’s been two weeks, and you’re still wearing that and…”
You realize he’s lowkey asking for round two. All you need is some water and you’ll be good to go.
“I’m on top this time,” you call out over your shoulder. You’re almost halfway across the room when he stops you.
“Hold on…”
You turn around only to find him standing there with his hands in his pockets.
“Hm?”
Jungkook lifts one of his hands and pulls out a tiny sealed bag. It doesn’t take you but a second to figure out what it is. But what leaves you puzzled is the way he’s holding it over his head.
“I don’t know much about this shit but, I think you’re still supposed to kiss me.”
Wow. He can be cute when he wants to. Of course, you return to leave a kiss on his cheek.
“That’s cute, Jungkook. But I think you got it wrong.”
“Oh, yeah?”
This time you grab his hand, and he doesn’t resist when you start dragging him towards the bedroom.
“I think I’m supposed to put my pussy on your face, then you kiss me,” you propose.
“Okay, maybe this holiday shit isn’t so bad.”
Shaking your head, you make your way through the dark hallway until you reach Jungkook’s room.
“Wait until you see the chain I bought you,” you mumble.
“Huh?”
“Nothing, baby. Come on.”
You take him to bed, and his apartment is anything but silent for the rest of the night. This was your first Christmas together; but best believe, a lot of traditions were made.
#jungkook x reader#jungkook fanfic#jungkook smut#bts x reader#bts fanfic#bts smut#bts fics#jungkook fics#jungkook imagines#bts imagines#jeon jungkook smut#jeon jungkook fanfic#aaagustd.fics
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I WANNA FEEL YOU FROM THE INSIDE
playlist
⭒pairing: katsuki bakugo x fem! reader.
⭒wc: 4.8k
⭒warnings: SEX (MINORS DNI), continuation of the porn!au, characters are aged up to 21+, reader is not of a certain skin color, use of names like ‘bunny,’ daddy kink, spanking with belt, live camming, mentions of; onlyfans, pegging, plugs, fingering (f! receiving), cunnilingus, slight breath play, small part of m! receiving oral, degrading, if I forgot anything I will update this later on!
⭒author’s note: y’all the amount of times I had to change the fake usernames to not accidentally tag someone is crazy. will scream, cry, and throw up if I still somehow managed to.
part one.
“you still wanna go through with it?”
“fuck yeah. show that fucker what he’s missing with us.”
it’d been a few months since you and katsuki had professionally filmed together for the first time. watching the opportunity for a decent cash flow get even bigger after more and more sick bastards wanted to see the two of you together. becoming a little more than professional acquaintances as you filmed together more and more.
it felt like the two of you could only keep growing until that douchebag that calls himself a director publicly shit on both of your names. calling the two of you ‘unprofessional’ and a slew of other names, even going as far to say he could’ve ‘done it without the both of you’ whilst he basked in the glory of his first successful porno. your ranks and ratings didn’t drop that much, but it was enough to piss the two of you off.
so now here the pair of you are, about to prove to that dickhead director that you didn’t need him, he needed you.
“it’s just been a while since i’ve cammed live. I feel like i’m back at the beginning again.”
“i bet. we’ve all come a long way though.” he stood up from where he was sat at the laptop perched upon your desk, angled towards the chaise lounge in your room. everything was set and ready with a timer counting down from five minutes. for some reason you were nervous about camming again.
maybe it was the fact that you hadn’t done so in so long.
or maybe it was that you didn’t know what the hulking blond standing over you had in store.
“we still have four and a half minutes left,” he rough hand stroked your soft cheek, “wanna let me get a little taste before you start, bunny?” his free hand cupped your cunt covered with white lace.
“nuh-uh. don’t spoil yourself now or you’ll have nothing left in you in a few.” you pushed him off and walked over to where the laptop was set up to check the countdown once more. making sure to shimmy your hips as you walked to show off your cute ass to him.
he already felt quite feral just looking at you. body clad in skimpy, white lingerie with cute little bunny ears on your head and a cotton tail attached the the back of your thong. the thigh-high socks squeezed the fat of your thighs so perfectly his cock was already straining against his jeans.
“have it your way, princess, but remember who’s in charge today. no shitty scripts to follow, I can do whatever the fuck I want.” you didn’t know whether you should feel more aroused or terrified at the thought. you’ve seen his videos from when he was amateur. unscripted, he was ruthless. fucking whoever was with him in the most insane, body-contorting positions, having them drool all over themselves. you weren’t ashamed to admit that you had touched yourself many times before to the sound of the filth that he spoke into the mic.
“it’s almost time, bunny. c’mere and sit with me.” he beckoned you over to the lounge with a wiggle of his index finger. he was shirtless with his chest lightly oiled. you eyed the way his pecs and stomach glistened under the light every time he shifted. he switched out his jeans and boxers to just a pair of grey sweats with nothing underneath. you loved the way his trail of wispy, blond hairs started just below his naval and disappeared below the waistband.
he had you sitting with your back to his chest. he held you tightly, already copping a feel on your chest. kneading and pinching the fat of your breasts. he had your legs placed over his spread ones, making you completely open for the camera. your little thong barely covered a thing and was getting eaten by your lips. he used his other hand to slide down your body and gently rub your clit over the cloth.
you almost forgot what you were about to be doing until you heard the familiar pinging sound from money being sent in. this little cam show was pretty well advertised on both of your socials and even by some of your friends in the industry, so it was really not surprise that people were already sending tips in. you soon heard bakugo pipe up. his voice moderately loud so the microphone could pick it up.
“awh, bunny, hear all those horny bastards that already are spendin’ shit on you? we’ve barely done anything yet” you quickly nodded your head, wiggling your hips to try and get his hand to move faster.
“where are your fuckin’ manners?” he took the hand that was kneading your tits and brought it up to your neck, fastening his thick fingers around and lightly squeezing. you let out a small ‘thank you’ which you thought wouldn’t be enough. thankfully, bakugo had mercy right now.
he kept toying with your cunt, continuously growing wetter and wetter. your arousal now seeping through your thong and spreading onto your plush thighs. also dripping down onto bakugo, leaving a wet patch on his pants.
“already makin’ such a mess. you want it bad, don’t you?” he lightly slapped your already sensitive clit, sending jolts of electricity down your spine and do your core.
“yes. so bad.” you felt like a virgin that couldn’t make a complete sentence and your cheeks started to burn. it was kind of hard to feel embarrassed when you’re in your industry, but the way he toyed with you flipped a switch inside.
“yes what?” he stopped touching you and roughly pinched your nipples, eliciting and piercing whine from you.
“yes daddy.” his cock twitched beneath you at the sound of your voice.
“good fuckin’ girl. why don’t you turn around and show them the pretty little ass of yours?” he unhooked your legs from his and brought them together so you could stand. you slowly got up, making sure to not lose your footing since your legs already felt like jelly. you heard the pinging start up again when you turned around and bent over slightly, wiggling your hips back and forth causing your ass to shake.
“come sit back down on me. daddy’s gonna play with you too, yeah?” you straddled his still-spread legs and his hands instantly found place on the fat of your ass. kneading, pulling, and squeezing every inch. you could feel his hard-on pressing right against your clit and you dared to start grinding down on him. because of that action, you were met with a harsh slap to your ass.
“who the fuck said you could grind on me? needy fuckin’ slut.” he roughly slapped your ass again and tips started to roll in at the sight of the bright red hand prints now adorning your backside.
“oh fuck, think these bastards are gettin’ off to the sight of you gettin’ punished, huh? who wants to see some more?” he was wearing the charming smirk on his face as he soothed the burning, red spots with his hands. rubbing circles on you and tilting his head to kiss and nip at your neck. the pinging sound that rolled in again signified that people did want to see more.
“alright, little bunny, all fours f’me.” you rolled off of him as he stood up, the obvious tent in his pants making your mouth water. he sauntered his way behind the lounge as you got in position. you could see out of the corner of your eye that he had picked up the belt he was wearing half an hour ago, striking the sides of the belt together to make a loud slapping sound as he approached you once more.
you felt his hands run over the spot where your lower back curved as the fabric of the lounge dipped down behind you. he caressed your smooth skin for a few moments more before he spoke up again.
“you’re gonna take ten of these yeah?” he leaned down and gripped the sides of your chin, turning your head to look towards him and the camera. “and you’re gonna count, lose your place and we start over. don’t fuck up and you get a reward. got that?” you furiously nodded your head and he cocked a warning brow at you. he let go of the death grip he had on your chin and lightly patted your cheek two or three times. you heard the leather of his belt slap against itself one more time before it was striking you.
your legs and cunt were both quivering as he delivered each blow to your sensitive skin. every strike was met with more pinging sounds as money was sent you way. your ass was covered in red spots and sore to the touch. he wasn’t entirely a monster, though, rubbing each area he hit with the palm of his hand after you struck you. despite the challenge, you didn’t lose your place and even thanked him afterwards. after the tenth was delivered, he pressed his soft lips to the spots most red and placed feather like kisses on you.
“so good f’me. so fuckin’ good f’me. daddy’ll give you what you want.” and with that he pushed your panties to the side and plunged two of his thick fingers in your wet heat. rapid fire fingering your aching pussy as he used his free hand to continue soothing the hot spots left on your ass from his belt.
the sight of your cute tears leaving mascara tracks down your pretty face in the screen of the laptop was enough to make him want to bust in his pants. the moans and whimpers that left your parted lips sounded so sweet, delicious even. and the feeling of your slick running down his middle and index finger was enough to make him lean down to lick your juices from the source as he replaced his fingers with his long tongue. his fingers found purchase again on your swollen clit, aching to be touched and he tongue-fucked you.
his movements were skillful. rubbing circles on your clit in a way the stimulated your nerves in just the right way. he worked his tongue oh so perfectly inside you, causing you to writhe under he touch. his free hand fisting at the fat of your ass.
he could tell that you were getting close by your moans increasing in volume and the way your pussy fluttered and clenched around his tongue. the pinging sound had slowed, pissing him off a bit.
“you wanna see this slut cum? pay the fuck up. we’re not doin’ this shit for free.” you whined when he pulled away from you, getting whatever the female equivalent of blue balls was. you dropped your top half down to the lounge, just leaving your ass in the air. you wiggled it a bit for the camera and for the blond staring at you through the laptop screen.
“shit, 15,000¥? these motherfuckers really are desperate. 20,000¥ and i’ll make this slutty bunny squirt.” he lightly ghosted his fingers over your pussy before deciding he wanted your panties that were still pushed to the side off. the strength of the explosive blond before you made you gush another bout of wetness as he tore them at the hips and pulled them off. even though you were desperate, you quietly whines at the loss. you really liked this lingerie set.
“oi, heard that shit. quit your bratty bitchin’ or you won’t cum until I do.” at that, he looked to the laptop and saw that someone had sent in the amount he requested and smirked.
“make sure to say ‘thank you.’” he dived back in your pussy, one hand on your clit, two fingers back in your cunt, and using his tongue to drink up any of your dripping slick. it wasn’t long before you felt that familiar pressure in your stomach and your hole started to twitch. shit, you were right there.
“oh fuck, oh fuck, fuckfuckfuck thank you.. fuck.” your speech was slurred and words were jumbled together as he finger-fucked you through your orgasm. he growled at the way your cunt gushed for him and all over him, drinking up as much as he could.
“shit, that’s my good fuckin’ girl. stand up f’me and show them your drenched pussy.” you did as he said, already feeling so fucked out to disobey. he held you by your hips as you stood, steadying your balance. using one of his big hands to spread your cheeks apart to show off your fucked hole, groaning at your reflection in the camera.
“d’you bastards miss when she was a cam slut? because i sure fuckin’ do.” he rubbed the side of your hip and ass as he pressed little kisses to your skin. it wasn’t long before the chat was beginning him to take his dick out and for you to take your bra off.
“awww. they want you to get naked too.” you teased, ruffling his blond hair.
“‘m sure they just want my cock out because that means i’m closer to destroying your insides.” he teased right back at you, softly smacking your backside.
you felt gracious about him giving you a little breather. you loved your work, loved making people feel good, but you hated how everything was go, go, go once the camera started rolling. sometimes having to just stay in bed the next day so the poor spot between your legs could take a break. when you felt ready, you tapped his shoulder and gave him a quick nod when he looked up.
you straddled his lap once more and pawed at his cock through the fabric of his sweatpants. you just wanted him to stuff you full and you were willing to act out to get it.
“needy little whore arentcha? not fuckin’ you yet. on your knees.” he patted your face once more and got up with you to get you closer to the camera. only his lower half was in view, but your face and still-covered chest was on full display. you were visibly excited when he tugged his sweatpants down enough to free his rock hard dick. taking it into his hand and pumping it a few times before slapping your cheek with it.
“be a good bunny and open wide f’me.” as soon as you did so, he was shoving his cock in your mouth. fucking your face for true audience you’d garnered. you thought all you’d be getting was a rough face-fucking until he pushed his length all the way in. the tip of your nose was touching his groomed, blond hairs that grew from his pelvis. tears once again started to stream down your cheeks as you struggled to breathe through your nose.
“you want this bitch to breathe? 5,000¥. simple enough? ‘m lowballin’ because the slut seems desperate already.” he punctuated his last few syllables by lightly thrusting back and forth in your mouth. it still wasn’t enough for you to get a deep breath, but enough for you to not pass out.
as he looked at the screen, a specific ping of a donation caught his attention.
105,000¥ - fuck her now.
he pulled out and leaned down to where his face was in view. he gave you a moment to sputter and catch your breath before he was gripping you by the jaw to look at the camera.
“see how much they wanna pay for that sloppy cunt? whad’dya think?”
“mmmm, 20,000¥ more. my pussy’s worth it.”
“you fuckin’ heard her, pay up, bastards. or i’ll just fuck her off camera.” he finished his last word with another slap to your ass. his rough hand still had you by the jaw as he showed off your messy face. makeup smeared and mascara stains running down your hot cheeks. you smiled into the camera when you saw the notification come up that someone had sent the remaining amount of money.
“thank you, baby. bet you wish it was you here and not him. you’d treat me nice, right?” bakugo’s gaze bore into the side of your head as he listened to you flirt with whoever threw money your way. anything word you spoke that sounded remotely suggestive was like a buzzword for more tips to roll in. “mmm you want him to take my bra off? you’d better ask him nicely.”
he fixated his gaze off of you and onto the comments rolling in in the monitor. another 10,000¥ rolling in with the nice request that he strip you some more.
“you bastards are so fuckin’ desperate. bet you’re all touchin’ yourselves right now. waiting for her tits to be out before you bust.” he was standing behind you, unhooking the clasps on your bra and letting it drop to the floor. you were fully exposed for the camera now. the only thing remaining from your costume lingerie were your sheer thigh-highs and the bunny ears atop your head.
he reached around you tweak your hard nipples and play with the fat of your breasts, eliciting little moans from you.
“so fuckin’ pretty. she’s a pretty, pretty girl isn’t she?” his hand traveled down to your pussy and he ran a finger through the slit to assess if he needed to prep you or not. you were practically still dripping from earlier, slick running out of your needy cunt and spreading onto the insides of your thighs.
“time to make their money’s worth, bunny. ride my fuckin’ cock.” he sat back down onto the chaise lounge and beckoned you over with the curl of his index finger. the sight of him comfortably sprawled out with his sweatpants just lazily pulled down enough for his cock to be out made the ache between your legs throb even more.
“d’ya bitches wanna see her ass or tits bounce?” he kept you from sitting, rubbing up and down the side of your hips as his eyes focused in on the chat. responses were mixed with people who wanted to see either. a few comments sprinkled in about yours or his looks.
“looks like they can’t decide, we’ll do both.” he pulled you towards him and you straddled his lap in regular cowgirl. he rubbed the tip of his angry, red cock up and down your soaked slit. the look in his eyes was enough to make you gush another wave of arousal as he slowly eased in you. the stretch of him was welcomed by your warm walls and he bottomed out rather quickly from how horny you were. his tip lightly brushed your cervix, marking you squirm above him. he grabbed your hips and you kept an agonizingly slow pace.
“if you want him to split me open, i’m gonna need a little more from you, babies.” you looked over your shoulder and winked. your reflection in the screen was pretty, beautiful even. one of his hands was lazily placed on your hip and the other placed behind his head. the sight of him slowly disappearing and appearing again was a spectacular sight to see. the way his heavy balls lightly slapped your ass was heavenly and the taut muscles flexed on his spread thighs was probably enough to make someone cream in their pants.
the pinging had begun once again and you increased your pace each time a donation came through. he eventually was gripping your hips hard enough to leave bruises as he began to thrust into you, hard and fast. your moans were already pornographically loud when you were at a slow pace, but now they filled the room with the sound of skin slapping skin.
“shit bunny, this cunt is so fuckin’ good. i can’t wait for you to make a mess on this dick.” you clenched down on him every time he spoke the filth that had gotten you off so many times before. your legs were beginning to tremble and your pussy was twitching in a way that told him you were close, right there even.
“fuck yes. cum on my cock.. ride that shit. show them how much of a dirty fuckin’ slut you are f’me.” his words coupled with his rough thrusts to punctuate the syllables sent you over the edge. your stomach felt white-hot as you creamed on him. he removed the hand from behind his head to spread your pussy lips and watch the glistening arousal flood his dick. the ring of your cum gathered on the base. that and your tits knocking together in his face made him slow himself to keep him from cumming too.
“hope y’got another one in ya. turn the fuck around and sit again.” you quickly got up and whined at the loss. katsuki growled at the sight of your hole already gaping for him.
you let out another whine of pleasure as you sat back on his cock again. your knees and shins were placed on both sides of his thighs and his arms were wrapped around the front of you to play with your tits as he started thrusting again.
he was rougher this time, removing one of his hands from your chest to move back down to your hip to keep you close to him. his feet were firmly planted in the carpet below you to keep up his pace without fault.
“play with your tits, sweets. show them how horny you are for daddy.”
“shit.. i love when daddy fills me up… fuck fuck fuck.” you brought your hands up to your chest to play with yourself and he brought his now-free hand to toy with your swollen clit. you loudly whimpered at the sensitivity when he was touching and fucking you at the same time.
“i feel you clenchin’ my shit. already gonna cum again? you really are a desperate slut for the camera.” he started slamming his hips into yours harder and you began to bounce at a pace that met his thrusts. he felt impossibly deep inside of you as your pussy squelched and gushed around him. he was now focused on your reflection in the screen. his eyes moved back and forth from the monitor to the real you. he loved being able to see your expressions whilst also being able to watch the way your peachy ass rippled and bounce as you met his rough thrusts.
“tell me.. fuck.. tell me how bad you want it.”
“daddy please I want it to badly. I need to cum and I need to be filled with yours.”
“oh, slutty bunny wants me to breed ‘er, that’s it, yeah?” you whimpered and nodded your head as he began to thrust even harder and deeper. hitting that special spot inside you that made your whole body feel like it was on fire. the crescendo of your moans and your pussy once again tightening on him told him you were almost over the edge, he was glad because he didn’t think he’d last much longer with the sight to behold in front of him.
after a few more rough thrusts and his cock dragging against your g-spot, you were once again coating the man in your release. squirting once again as he continued to ride you through your orgasm. your juices slid down his muscular thighs and onto the fabric below the both of you. you heard his growls get louder as he used your body to chase his own high. practically losing himself at the sight the clear liquid spewing from you.
“fuck bunny, y’gonna let me cum in you? fuck i’m gonna fill you up.”
a little ‘please’ was all you could get from your lips as your spent brain wasn’t thinking too clearly. he gripped your sore hips one last good time before he was spilling the contents from his balls into your overused hole.
“‘m cummin’.. fuck baby, god you feel so fuckin’ good when i’m flooding this pussy.” your body shivered as his words and the shallow thrusts he continued to pump into you. you felt impossibly empty when he slowed and lifted you off of him. that feeling soon being subdued by his thick, calloused finger tips collecting the cum that had leaked out and pushing it back into your cunt.
“know you’re fucked out, but bend over ‘n show them how pretty that pussy looks filled with my cum.” although tired, you gladly obeyed his request. standing up on wobbly legs to turn around and bend over like you’d done earlier, holding onto the edge of the lounge for stabilization.
“mmm, bet you guys wish this was yours stuffed in there, yeah?” you giggled and waved your ass back and forth as the pinging increased for a final time. katsuki grabbing your face and showing the audience how debauched and fucked out he had made you. you finished off the stream with a flirty ‘goodbye babies’ and a seductive wink before covering the camera with your hand and ending the stream.
you both watched the screen go black and light up again as the total revenue flashed across the screen. both of your eyes widened as you saw the number. you both expected into six fugures, you didn’t expect to be that well into six figures. it was more money made in a single stream than the two of you would made from a few pornos. the two of you decided the split the money equally as it made the most sense and was only fair.
the screen blackened again, this time the transcript of the comments lit up the screen. you decided to sit and read whilst the blond got up to redress.
“hey kats, they want me to peg you!” you say in front of the laptop, still naked as the day you were born minus the thigh-highs, and read through the comments. a lot of them complimenting the pair of you or offering you guys money for sex. sometimes you came across comments that made you audibly laugh, this being one of those moments.
“fat chance. most that’s been in my ass is a plug.”
“I could change that.” you wiggled a brow at him and he dramatically rolled his eyes. he stood in the corner of your room and you watched him tug a white compression shirt on.
“adventurous thing, arentcha?”
“adventurous is my middle name.”
“yeah, okay dumbass.” it was your turn to rolls your eyes as you went to your twitter to tweet about the success of the stream, definitely showing up the director that dared trash yours and bakugo’s names. after tweeting, you decided to scroll your feed a bit to see if anyone had said anything yet. if the money you guys make didn’t show the success of the stream, the slew of people tweeting about it sure did.
@better-luxe-next-time: made more in one stream with @.officialdynamight than that slimeball has made in his whole career <3
@.officialdynamight: wanna see my POV with @better-luxe-next-time? unlock the videos on my onlyfans @.dynamight.
@.alien.queen.pinky: wettest i’ve ever been from watching a stream. 3some? @better-luxe-next-time @.officialdynamight
@bigredriot: I couldn’t tell who I wanted more 😫
@chargeboltt: she could step on me and i’d say thank you!
@chakoraka i’d kill an elderly woman to be sandwiched between them.
@sticky-sero: not even gay but i’d suck his ween ngl
you smiled at the tweets your fellow stars had posted. it some sick, weird way it warmed your heart that they all had your backs and watched the stream to help you prove a point. you even noticed some of them donating their own money. the smile that grew on your face slowly drooped again once you saw another tweet posted 7 minutes ago from dynamight himself.
@.officialdynamight: 50 retweets and we’ll stream weekly. @better-luxe-next-time
“seriously, katsuki? 50 retweets?”
“i’ll take any excuse to get inside you. got the sweetest cunt i’ve ever fucked.” you took the bunny ears off and slid your stockings off your legs as he handed you his t-shirt. it fell right at your mid-thigh and swallowed your torso whole. “and trust me, i’ve fucked a lot.”
“me too, we’re in the same business, y’know,” you let out a light giggle at his exaggerated eye roll, “but yeah, best dick i’ve ever had.”
“so we can agree, one retweet?”
“sure, kats, one retweet.” his vermillion eyes darkened and his lips contorted into a cheshire cat-like smile as he opened his twitter app and turned the screen to face you. the tweet already have over 100 retweets and it’d only been up for 10 minutes.
“looks like you might wanna start getting comfy with me, bunny.”
part one.
#bakugo katsuki#katsuki bakugo smut#my hero academia smut#bakugou smut#mha smut#bnha smut#katsuki smut#bnha bakugo smut#katsuki bakugou smut#bakugo smut#bakugo x reader#katsuki bakugo x reader#katsuki bakugou#bakugou katsuki#bakugou katsuki x reader#katsuki x you#bnha bakugou#mha bakugou#mha x reader#bakugou x reader#katsuki bakugo#bakugo#bnha katsuki bakugou#bakugou#bnha bakugo katsuki#katsuki bakugo mha#fleur bbyy
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Happy birthday!!!! More FMA!
He’s fucking tired.
In Xerxes, he’s Van Edris. In Xerxes, he’s the son of a former slave, having narrowly escaped being born into his father’s fate by virtue of him being awarded freedom by the time of his birth. In Xerxes, he’s an uncommon commodity, an alchemist with a skill that hasn’t been seen since his father fucked off to who knows where.
In Amestris, he’s Edward Elric. In Amestris, he’s the son of Trisha Elric who was born free and died free because while there are lots of different forms of freedom, in Amestris there’s one that everyone shares. In Amestris, he’s unknown and unremarkable and no one gives a fuck about what he does.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he says flatly.
This is what he gets for visiting his father’s country. It’s just fucking unfortunate that the really good alchemical texts are here.
He should have let Al (Van Altun, as they know him, even though the two of them having been using their Amestrian names almost their whole lives, regardless of what country they were in) do it. They’re not nearly as weird about him.
Pakor is alright, as far as kings go. He’s freed a lot of people, is poking at the laws of ownership that has governed his country for centuries to see if he can do anything about them without getting beheaded for it. He’s also known Ed since he was a barely able to walk, back when his father still made court appearances and brought the family along with him. Former slave against most talented alchemist in the country, and people tended to politely ignore the former. Hell, Ed’s been counting on the same thing since he was twelve.
Of course, now it’s coming back to bite him. People say he’s a genius, but if he was really smart he would have stayed far, far away from court. Like in Amestris, perhaps.
“You’re fluent in both languages,” Pakor says, coaxing.
“So are you,” he says accusingly. “We’re speaking Amestrian right now!”
Pakor sighs and switches to Xerxian. “You also speak Xingese and Drachman. You’re a difficult man to keep secrets from.”
“I’m also Amestrian!” he shouts. “And free, might I add! You can’t sell me off to slavery just to get some intel!”
“It’s not like we’ll brand you,” he says, affronted, and Ed is reminded that alright for a king is still pretty shitty. “We just need someone to do a little – double checking. To ensure the situation in Amestris is as it’s advertised.”
“You want to gift me to the Fuhrer to spy on him and you’re, what, just hoping he doesn’t notice that I understand everything and know everything and am, oh yeah, one of his citizens? I’ve been to Central before! With my luck, I’ll get recognized the first day here and then run out of Amestris! And, again, Amestris doesn’t have slaves! The leader of the country really can’t have one.”
Pakor sighs. “You’re very dramatic, Edris. It won’t be so bad. Here, I’ll say you’re my personal slave and that you’re on loan. It’ll be for cultural exchange purposes. He speaks Xingese, so you can communicate in that language without letting on you know Amestrian.”
Ed pinches the bridge of his nose. “This is a stupid fucking idea.”
“If you do this,” Pakor says, “I’ll give you the key to the royal library.”
Ed slowly lowers his hand, eyes narrowing. “I’ve been asking you to let me in there for years.”
“I figured I’d need to bargain it away eventually,” he says. “I was hoping you’d marry one of my daughters for it.” Having even light court obligations is bad enough, he’s in no way stupid enough to marry in. “You’re very difficult, you know. I’m your king. I shouldn’t have to bargain with you.”
“Tough shit,” Ed says, because Pakor may have known him for nearly twenty years, but that knowing goes both ways. Besides, he can’t piss him off because then he and Al will stop reparing all their shit bridges and infrastructure. “Fine. But if I lose my Amestrian citizenship over this, I’m going to be pissed.”
“Noted,” Pakor says brightly.
Uhg.
It doesn’t help that everything he’s heard about Fuhrer Mustang makes the man sound insufferable.
#ling shows up halfway through this deception and is like hi ed why are you dressed like that and why are you talking like that#and ed has to strangle a prince of xing to keep his fucking mouth shut#every second he's ever spent at court was a mistake#al and winry are pulled between being appalled about this whole thing and thinking it's the funniest thing they've ever heard#prompt answers#prompts are closed#asks#anon#fma
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I have a request you are up for it. I kind of had this idea where Steve Rogers really screwed the Reader over in their past relationship and cheated on her with Sharon and dumped the reader for her. Even the avengers don't talk to her anymore and made her look like the toxic one in the relationship. two years later it's his and Sharon's wedding day and it was a beautiful and wonderful, however reader returns and decides to kill seek her revenge on Steve and Sharon and the rest of the team. Let's just say she gets it and Steve suffers. (Reader is a witch by the way)😈
hello honey, I hope you like what I've done.
summary - steve cheats on you, causing the team to turn against you to save the world from hating him. years later, you finally seek your revenge.
warning - angst, torture, cheating, dark content, badass female
the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips (deactivated)
It had been two years since Steve Rogers broke your heart, you thought that would be the worst of it, but the fact the team turned on you and screwed you over by making it seem like you cheated on Captain America, causing the world to hate you, treating you like shit until the point you snapped. If they wanted a bad guy, they’ll get one.
You sat in a dark room as the tv played, your ex was getting married to the tramp he cheated on you with. Your golden eyes sharpen as you glare at the screen, causing it to explode in sparks. You grin, the whole team would be in that church, making this so much easier for you.
Your hands glow as you begin to hover, your long black dress falling gracefully around your legs. “Oh, the day that the Avengers fall and all by my hands.” Your laugh echoes throughout the room and you disappear, reappearing in front of the god-awful building. “Oh god, could their taste be any worse?” Your hands face down, levitating toward the church doors and flinging them open with your magic. The whole room falls quiet. “Well, well. Where was my invitation?”
Your head tilts as Sharon huffs. “You aren’t welcome here!” Your eyes move around the room, connecting with each person. “Hello? Get the fuck out! Didn’t you realise you weren’t welcomed when Steve left you for me?!”
You smile, your gaze moves back over to hers and you stare. Watching as she shivers under it. “Sharon, Sharon, Sharon. You should know not to mess with a witch, especially a pissed off one.” Your hand flies up, stopping a bullet midair, you slowly tilt your head, looking at the small metal object before your gaze follows where it came from. A grin forms on your face as you connect with Natasha’s. It appears you found something that made the big Black Widow shudder with fear.
“Y/n, stop this. You are only hurting yourself.” You blink, once, twice, thrice before your laughter fills the room, sending chills up everyone’s spines. “Why are you laughing?! Do you not realise how insane you look right now?!”
“Sweet, sweet Natasha.” The bullet melts as you direct your hand toward her, lifting her in the air, watching her dangle as she struggles. “I’m not hurting myself, I’ve finally healed from the pain you all put me through. Because, sure I loved Steve and it felt like my heart had been ripped out when he constantly cheated on me with some wannabe tramp. But I could’ve lived through that, what I wasn’t expecting was the heartbreak from the people I considered family.” A growl rumbles within your throat, eyes glowing brighter with each word and emotion. “I can no longer hurt myself when you did a wonderful job of it for me.” You twitch, you can feel the stupid witch trying to enter your mind, her magic feels like something irritating, like a jumper that continues to itch because someone made it out of that horrible fabric.
You continue your hold on Natasha, turning your head, gold meets red. “What are you doing, Little Witch?” You blink, sending her flying across the room, crashing into a row of ugly flowers, causing you to scrunch your nose. “Ew, who chooses weeds for their special day?” You huff, feeling a body slam into you and your other hand reaches out, strangling Vision as he tries to charge again. “What is with you people, don’t you know it’s rude to just attack a person.”
“Y/n stop. That’s enough.” Two years ago, your heart would’ve pounded inside your chest from hearing his voice. But now, your heart lies cold within your body. The rest of the team that you don’t have a hold on, stand, readying for a fight. It felt comedic. “If you don’t leave, we will make you leave.”
You throw your head back, letting out another chilling laugh before your head falls forward and you glare at your ex. “You make me leave? Do you think you’re stronger than me? You may be Captain America, but deep down you’re just that weak little boy back in the 40s.” You float over to him, black and gold magic building beneath you in a cloud and the anger builds in your veins. Your hands fly back, throwing those you had in your hold against the church walls before you reach in front, releasing all your magic onto the one man, watching him fall to his knees. “You and your team are no match for me, Steve Rogers. You will never be, you will all fall before you even manage to take me with you.” You lower to the ground, standing over him, leaning over, moving your face close enough that it looks as though you are about to kiss. “You will beg me for your life. It may not be today or a year from now, but you will.” You grip his chin between your fingers, forcing him to look into your eyes as you smile.
Your eyes flash, stopping Tony from approaching, his Iron Man suit begins to slowly enclose on him, squashing him from the inside. “Not so fast, Mr Stark.” Your magic wraps around Steve’s body, keeping him in his position as you turn and face the rest of the Avengers. You look at each and everyone of them, letting your magic explode around you and the room, wrapping around them. “Soon you will all fall, no longer loved, no longer remembered. The world will move on without you and in your demise, you will beg me for help, falling deeper and onto your knees. Sacrificing your beliefs and pride.” You begin to descend from the steps, smirking. “Hm, why don’t I continue to torture you guys some more.”
With a wave of your hand, all their nightmares come to life. Every single person or thing that they don’t want to face appear in front of them, torturing them, allowing you to sit back and watch with a smile, a glass of wine appears in your hand as you watch them all suffer. A few hours pass and you grow bored, making everything disappear along with yourself.
While your magic circulated around them, it allowed you to see their future and it gave you many ideas to how you could continue to ruin their lives. Starting with the man who destroyed you. You close your eyes, feeling your spirit escape you and travel back in time, appearing in front of a woman that many looked up to.
“Peggy Carter.” She spins, looking around for the voice. Your eyes glow and your magic surrounds her. “The love you feel for Steve Rogers will turn into hate, he will appear soon and will want to stay. You will fill his head with every hurtful thing you’ve thought of. You will see who he really is and how much he has changed when he was the smaller version of himself. You will destroy him, rip out his heart and squash it in front of his eyes. He will finally know how it is to feel his heart being broken.” She blinks, walking over to the photo of Steve, staring at it, and wondering why she has it before Peggy grabs the photo and drops it into the bin.
You smirk, disappearing back into your time and body. Your eyes open with an evil glint, staring right at the readers.
thank you for reading!
feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.
#imyourbratzdollasks#imyourbratzdollwork#paarthurnax59ask#steve rogers fic#chris evans#chris evans fanfiction#chris evans characters#chris evans x female reader#chris evans x reader#steve rogers#steve rogers angst#steve rogers au#steve rogers drabble#steve rogers fanfic#steve rogers fanfiction#steve rogers fluff#steve rogers imagine#steve rogers one shot#steve rogers x f!reader#steve rogers x fem!reader#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers x female reader#steve rogers x you#steve rogers x y/n#the avengers x reader#the avengers imagine#the avengers fanfic#marvel fanfiction#marvel fic#marvel imagine
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♡ slashers scenarios | y’all accidentally adopt a kid
♡ fandoms; Halloween, Texas Chainsaw Massacre (original + 2006), Dead by Daylight, slashers (general)
♡ characters; Micheal Myers, Thomas Hewitt, Bubba Sawyer
♡ reader; gender neutral
♡cw; parenthood (?), mentions of violence
♡notes; i work with toddlers all day yet still somehow get baby fever- so here’s this i guess lol.
i can’t see Brahms as a dad so skipped out on him this time, Vincent is iffy too but we might come back to him
•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•
Micheal Myers
> micheal never wanted to be a father before he met you
> he knows for a fact he has something terribly wrong with him
> and while it never bothered him…it was far too dangerous to pass on
> but the way you light up when little kids on the street wave to you
> how you talked about building a family when you got drunk and sappy
> and how soft and gentle you were holding your friend’s baby…
> he knew you’d be the perfect parent, good enough to balance any bullshit he was bring to the table
> so it’s maybe not a complete accident when he stalks into the house with a banged up stroller out front
> the baby is crying, his parents passed out from some shit they snorted in the living room
> it makes his job easier when he slits their throats, and he’s sure as hell not sympathetic
> not that he ever is
> he follows the cries upstairs- a tiny little boy is wailing in his crib
> but he stops and stares at Micheal, blue eyes wide as he looms in the door
> at first Micheal thinks the racket it going to start again and braces for the scream
> but the boy reaches for him eagerly instead, making grabby hands and squealing
> it takes a bit of snooping but Micheal finds some paperwork after he’s secured the child in a carrier
> Miles. The boy’s name is Miles, and he’s ten months old- just tiny for his age
> you think he’s fucking with you when he sets a baby carrier on your table that night
> “…that’s Miles.” He mutters and walks away
> you’re pissed but you can’t say you have anything but an urge to protect this tiny boy
> he has red hair, and light freckles and the sweetest disposition
> he’s perfect, surely Micheal wouldn’t just steal a child…not without good reason
> and you notice Micheal still lingering, watching you both
> you try not to smile
> “…well. Gonna help me find somewhere he can sleep or not?”
Thomas Hewitt
> when Charlie brings in the little girl, Luda Mae is beyond excited
> she had no idea the couple she’d sent down their road had a baby
> her dark curls and chubby legs and ruddy pink cheeks remind her so much of Thomas at that age too
> not too far off from one if she’s got it right
> she’s thinking selfishly, she’s always wanted a daughter
> but Thomas’ eyes go so wide when you both walk in
> he’s in awe of the tiny lil thing sleeping against his mama’s shoulder
> he won’t hold her, terrified of hurting her
> but you’re eager to take her for a bit and he gets real close, chin hooked on your shoulder so he can inspect her closely
> she’s all giggles as she touches his mask
> and you’re nearly in tears when she snuggles up against you
> “…yknow…i’ve been thinkin. i’m much closer to grandmama age than mama age now”
> you say yes before Luda can finish her ask - there was nothing you wanted more than a child with Thomas
> he’s hesitant, but he already adores her
> you have no way of knowing her name, so what you should call her is a bit of a hot topic for a few days
> Charlie wants to name her Charlotte because he’s a self centered bastard , and Luda Mae has about a thousand suggestions that come from baby books decades older than you
> but you let Thomas decide
> Audrey Mae Hewitt is what he chooses
> Audrey from a book he read
> Mae from his mama
> and it suits her perfectly
Bubba Sawyer
> “hey cook! look what i got!”
> Drayton about beats Choptop in the plate when he sees him carrying a toddler under his arm like a log
> but he’s kind of impressed such a scrawny dirtbag can carry a chunky kid like that
> the little boy is a healthy weight for two or so, with lil chipmunk cheeks that dimple when he grins
> and the cutest damn mullet you’ll ever see
> Drayton is getting too damn old for this, and there’s only one person he trusts even a minuscule amount in the house
> so he just. hands him to you when you walk into the front room
> “congratulations, it’s a boy”
> you’re confused but excited
> and a bit concerned with how he and Bubba will feel once the man gets home
> a kid is a big commitment- and a man that wears people’s faces can be scary
> but Bubba immediately squeals and beelines for the little one when he staggers in
> they both tilt their heads curiously before the boy tries to climb up his leg
> when he picks him up, the boy gives a huge belly laugh, kicking his legs
> you choose his name- politely declining your boyfriend’s brothers’ insistence on Lil Choppy or Drayton II
> Jedediah Junior sounds perfect to you - little JJ
#slashers#micheal myers#thomas hewitt#micheal myers x reader#slashers x reader#thomas hewitt x reader#bubba sawyer#halloween#slashers x you#tcm#slashers x y/n#slashers headcanons#tcm 2006#tcm 2#bubba sawyer x reader
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What We Want - Chpt. 4 - Nightmares Too
In Which A Romantic Breaks The Universe
(Yandere!batboys x f!reader) 18+ MDNI!
SUMMARY
Another lonely birthday, another empty year. You miss your family. You're late for your bills and rent, and even then, you got robbed last Tuesday.
Still, you buy yourself a cupcake, because you need it. I mean, hey. What's dessert for if not to get over cheating boyfriends and dead relatives?
As you blow out the candle, watching the clock switch from 11:59 pm to midnight of the next day, you make a wish.
And because the world doesn't like to make much sense, it comes true. Your life is suddenly flipped on a dime, and you're stuck trying to catch up with it. Fantasy becomes reality. You're a Wayne now, apparently. Or you used to be. You're loved, you're rich, you're talented and powerful.
Well, sort of. Careful what you wish for, right?
(TRIGGER WARNINGS AND MASTERLIST HERE)
PREV - NEXT
“You wanna get out from under there?”
What sort of question is that? Of course, you don’t. You’re going to live here now. You’re never leaving this tiny, cramped space till you rot away and die. The stained underside of some IKEA desk was your new home.
Well, since your actual home was seeming less and less like an option. Which kinda sucks, because you’re feeling surprisingly possessive of your stuff. You don’t want fancy dresses or bubbly champagne, you want your ratty couch and the neighbour’s cat that liked to visit in the middle of the night. Your mother was right, you were the type of person to never be happy no matter what. You could appreciate the food, though.
Shaking, trembling, knees clutched to your chest, you look up. Slowly, because you’ll probably piss yourself if you don’t.
Now that you weren’t holding his hand, the vigilante known as Red Hood was much, much scarier. He was sitting on the carpeted floor with you, but he still somehow looked incredibly menacing. You preferred his old look, honestly. The helmet had less ‘grim reaper’ vibes. The hood and metal face mask made him seem like a cyborg assassin, or something equally terrifying. He was terrifying.
Still, you could appreciate the insane sort of hilarity of this situation. The notorious crime fighter and crime committer was sitting here with you, crossed legs, twiddling his thumbs away. You press your face into your hands, laugh, and then scream. The sound is muffled, but he probably still hears the exciting new phase of your breakdown.
“Don’t…” your voice cuts off, you have to think before you can manage to speak again, “Don’t you have something better to be doing?”
His giant shoulders shrug.
“I’ve got time.”
Did he? You don’t know how long you’d been up here, how long you’d been sitting here either. You’d fallen asleep, despite your desperate fight not to, so it could be anywhere between 10 to the next day. Had you missed midnight? God, you hoped not.
That stupid little ritual is what convinces you to leave. Not common sense, not the Hood, not your desperate desire to get home and sleep. No, it’s the image of your mother’s tired smile, the city in the background as you wish her another happy birthday after a long day of work. It’s a memory you’re not willing to give up, even if you technically already made your wish.
You’d lived this awful day twice. You got to blow out your candles twice, too.
Slowly, surely, you climb out from under the desk. Red Hood is quiet, careful. He doesn’t move apart from a subtle shift in his hood, suggesting he’s watching you. He’s acting like you’re a wild animal or something, like he might scare you off, or might prompt you to attack.
If he tries anything, you will. It doesn’t matter that he could snap your neck like a twig. Maybe he’s right to act that way, you’re feeling pretty feral right now. Half giving him your back, you turn the monitor for the computer on. It’s Wayne property, so you think you technically have some right to it. It’s not like you’re going to hack it or anything, you just need it to-
11:48.
“Thank god,” you sigh, relieved. Still, you’re not out of the woods yet. You needed at least a lighter, hopefully, a candle and a desert of some kind too. There were lots of cakes downstairs, if you felt you could do it. Big ‘if’ there. The mental breakdown was still well underway. And not everyone could dodge a punch like Red Hood could. Knowing you, you’d probably get sued for millions if you accidentally snapped at some poor rando.
Let’s start small. You wrench open the office’s drawer and start rooting around. You find lots of things, a Wayne Enterprises-themed stress toy, a kid’s drawing of them and their parent holding hands, and a surprising amount of hand cream, but no lighter. You slam the drawer closed and move to the next one.
“Hey, what are you doing?” his voice rumbles out, and your head snaps around.
You look down. Right. This is probably illegal. You were rooting through someone else’s private property. Of course, it wasn’t the first time you’d done something like this, but it was definitely the first time you’d done it in plain view of a vigilante.
Crap. You hadn’t thought. That was your entire night, summarised.
“Uh, this is… Do you have a lighter?” you ask, wincing. You don’t really like the mask he’s wearing. Apart from being so intimidating, you’re shaking like a wet chihuahua, it’s also impossible to tell what he’s thinking through it. The domino mask, the metal face mask and the voice changer completely hid any emotion. Full coverage and all.
The helmet probably would’ve made that even harder. You’d still prefer it. This guy's creepy.
“You smoke?” he responds, slowly but surely getting to his feet. You back up quickly, pressing yourself to the wall of the cubicle. Red Hood pauses and then moves even slower. He’s careful not to frighten you any more than already.
This was all really strange. One of the strangest things that had ever happened to you. And you might’ve woken up this morning in an alternate dimension. Or something, you had zero clue what was going on. God, you really wished you’d paid more attention in science class. You’d thought Mr Gregory was crazy, but he’d gotten the last laugh.
“I don’t,” you clench your sweaty fists tight, “Maybe I should.”
“Don’t get started, it’s impossible to stop,” Red Hood says, digging into his pocket for something. You freeze, but relax again when he hands you a scuffed metal lighter.
Holding it close to your chest, you whisper a thank you to him. He nods his head in acknowledgement.
This was really weird. You couldn’t say it enough.
“I hate you,” you state because you sort of have to. Even when he’s being nice to you, helping you. It’s an obligation. You have to make sure that despite the show of good faith he was offering, you were certainly feeling no such thing.
“I figured,” he replies, which like- What the fuck? Does this make absolutely zero sense to anybody else? You’re not sure what about your panic-stricken tears and desperate hand-holding made you seem hateful, but you could work with it.
Maybe all the feelings you push down are starting to show. You ignore how worried that makes you because you’ve had enough for today. Today was more than e-fucking-nough.
You were going to find a cake and a candle, and you were going to make your wish. Again, because life sucks. You were going to finish this horrible day again because life sucks. And hopefully, you’d wake up tomorrow… tomorrow, not today.
You weren’t sure if you would. Life sucks, right?
You look the Red Hood in his creepy glowing red eyes and say, “I think I’m losing my fucking mind.”
“That’s not good.”
“No, I don’t think it is.”
There’s quiet between you two for a moment. You think he’s staring at you, trying to figure you out. He knows you hate him, but you’re… well, you’re too tired to be angry right now. You just want to go to sleep. You just want this damn day to end. Tomorrow you’d go back to hating all the vigilantes of Gotham with a fiery passion, but today…
Well, you wouldn’t call it peaceful, whatever this situation is. Maybe it’s understanding. He seems understanding, for some reason. You don’t really want to think about that.
You just wanted to hate him. It was easier that way. Then you didn’t have to hate yourself so much.
“I’m going to go find some cake and a candle. It’s my birthday and I haven’t made a wish.”
Red Hood nods, “I could eat.”
That wasn’t an invitation, but whatever. Guess you’re blowing out your candles for your twenty-first with… this guy. Better than yesterday, which was with nobody but yourself and your trashy TV. Or, well, the first today.
You really think you are losing your mind. Whatever, whatever, let’s worry about it later.
After one of the most awkward and uncomfortable elevator rides of your life, squished into a corner as Red Hood took up the lion’s share of space, you find yourself back on the first floor. It’s chaos. The gorgeously decorated gala is now in rubble, and people are rushing around with the sort of fear you’d expect after the fucking Joker showed up.
He wasn’t here, which was good. It was important to focus on the good.
First responders flit around the space, checking the people who seem worse for wear and the rich bastards who think they’re more important than the service workers who are cut or bruised. All the food tables have been knocked over, the waste of it making you upset. Of course the Joker wastes food, he’s gotta be the evilest man on earth or something. It’s not just the interior that’s been destroyed, either. The giant gothic windows have been shattered inward, and broken glass covers the entire floor space. Red and blue lights flash through the gaping holes, bits of glass still attached to the stone sending it cascading across the walls.
You look down. You’re missing your shoes.
“You can’t walk on that,” Big Red says, which like, duh.
“I know that,” you mutter, looking around for another way. Ah, good, there’s a staff entrance over there, which you think probably leads to the kitchen-
“I could carry you.”
You give him a disturbed look and he shrugs. Pointing to the ‘staff only’ door, you wish you had the strength to tell the guy to fuck off. He feels like a babysitter or something.
“I’m going in there.” ‘Please don’t follow me.’
He follows you, because of course, he does.
Lucky for you, the staff entrance leads straight to the kitchen. Even luckier, there’s absolutely nobody here to witness you lose your mind. There are also lots of dishes waiting to be served, already plated and perfect. This is a professional kitchen, but it was your birthday so you have to assume they’d have had candles or a cake prepared.
You walk through the giant kitchen, and Red Hood hangs back. He leans against the doorway, crossing his tree-tunk-esque arms and glowering. Nowhere can do a scary hero like Gotham can. He was really messing with your vibe, which wasn’t all that great in the first place.
Your eyes rove over the platters, head snapping back when you spot a tiny set of confectionaries at the back. Cupcakes, three in total. They don’t match the rest of the other high-quality foods, but you know they’re the ones you want anyway. You hope this didn’t belong to someone else, and promise to pay them back… somehow. You’d write a note or something, leave your number behind.
You were rich now. You’d have preferred the lottery instead of all this. What’s the saying, ‘beggars can’t be choosers?’ You’d certainly been begging.
It’s a struggle to reach the back of the counter without knocking any of the other food. You grab the plate, lift it up and over, and then set it back down on an empty stretch of countertop.
You look over the three cupcakes, trying to pick one. There’s one that’s a dark raspberry pink. A pink that’s a little too dark, actually. Almost… reddish. You glance over your shoulder at the devil lurking behind you, wince, and decide you’re going for the blue cupcake. You think this might’ve also been one of Sam’s favourite colours. It would’ve been at some point, at least.
Now, candles. This might be the hard part, but it’s the most important one. Again you start rooting through some stranger’s property, and Red Hood just watches silently. It’s weird. This whole situation is weird. You’re tired and confused and you’re half convinced you’re dreaming it all, but… but you’re definitely starting to think this might be real.
And that’s fucking scary. So, back to candle hunting. They had to have some, it was your birthday. Maybe, you were pretty sure. Somehow the worst day of the year had happened twice because God knows you had some shit luck. You’d really like some solid answers, instead of just ‘maybe!’. And for some reason, you really didn’t think you’d be getting them anytime soon.
Ah, shoot. You found your candle. It’s one of those giant ‘Happy Birthday’ cake toppers, all loopy and connected words. Your cupcake is way too small, and your candle is way too big. Well, you’re nothing if not resourceful. When you bend the candle, the wax snaps easily under your grip. You’re left with a capital ‘H’ and under that the ‘B’ and little ‘i’ and ‘r’ from the beginning of birthday. Good enough, you suppose.
You stick the crumbly, glittery monstrosity on top of the stolen cupcake, and swipe the lighter again. The letters sag to the side, and you nudge them back into balance.
You glance down at the ovens, reading the bright neon numbers. 11:57.
You wait, flicking the lighter open and closed. The metallic click, the rhythm of the movement, it settles you a bit.
“Why are you waiting?” Red Hood pipes up, breaking that comfortable silence. At least he doesn’t come any closer, still lingering half in the room, half not.
“It has to be midnight,” you answer, wishing him away. This is your thing. You didn’t want anybody here for it, didn’t want anybody else’s presence tainting this piece of your mother’s memory. You were greedy for it, not eager to share.
You were sharing today. There’s a part of you that wants to scream and rant at the man who for some unknown reason simply will not leave, but you imagine your mother’s frowning face, and you can’t do it. She’s the angel on your shoulder (nagging, nagging, nagging) compared to your usual devil-inclined self. She was always insisting you needed to be a better host, be nicer to people. Maybe make more friends. And after she’d gone, you’d tried, you really, really had.
But Red Hood was an altogether different matter. Everything they were, everything they represented, was an altogether different matter.
You were obsessed with the Waynes. And in a different, more bitter, spiteful, malicious way, you were obsessed with the Bats, too.
You weren’t going to be friends with Red Hood. You hated him, despised him. Mum always said you needed to get better at forgiving people. You disagreed, but just… maybe just for today, you wouldn’t make him leave.
You could glare at him, though. You felt that was fair enough. He ignores your narrowed eyes like a seasoned professional. Bet he’s had a lot of people hate him. Bet he deserves it.
“It’s 11:59,” he tells you, and you stop glaring at him to light the candle.
The light is weak, barely able to touch you. Still, it’s strong enough to get rid of those tiny glimpses of red and blue police lights, to keep away the darkness for just long enough. You sigh into the light, absorbing it into yourself. You’d always thought the world was too dark, and you hated winter when you’d lose the sun. So like you had to hate the dark, you had to love this light. This tiny little candle, burning away.
“What’re you gonna wish for?”
You stare at the flickering flame. It twitches back and forth. Casts light into the kitchen. Mesmerises you. It’s barely alive, and you’re about to put it out before it can even start. It could’ve been some great fire, some city-destroying blaze. And you’re going to kill it. Kill it before it can kill you, can kill everyone here. Kill it before it could have ever hoped to live, to thrive.
Just a baby. Just a little, little baby.
It doesn’t deserve it. That never seems to matter. It never mattered before.
“The Joker to die.”
You exhale, blowing the light out and sending the kitchen into darkness. When you manage to find the light switch and turn it on, the room is empty. It’s just you, your cake, and your tears. Your hands clench, and then you realise you’re still holding it.
You still have the Red Hood’s lighter. He left without it.
Well, finder’s keepers, right?
-
You’re shaking in the back of the ambulance, the blanket wrapped around your shoulders not enough to keep out the Gotham night’s chill. You don’t really remember how you got here, to be honest. Everything’s pretty goddamn blurry. You were talking to a vigilante, a red one. Not down here, staring up at the Wayne Tower. You remember his face in the shifting candlelight. Did you blow out your candles with him? That was a fucking crazy thought.
And now the Bruce Wayne has a hand on your shoulder. You don’t remember when he arrived. He’s talking with the paramedic, chatting over the top of your head. There words are going in one ear and out the other, it’s alien for as much as you can understand. You want to shake his hand off, you don’t want anyone touching you right now. Especially not a stranger.
Even if it was a guy you had owned a fan Twitter for. Those were the darkest days of your past. Even more so than the time you’d totally thought about jumping in front of the Gotham subway. You’d only not done it because you’d have felt bad for wasting other commuters' time. What were you doing? Ah, right.
In the end, you don’t shove him off, because you don’t know if you can move other than blink. Even that’s against your will. Your eyelashes are fluttering randomly, eyes flicking around the interior of the ambulance. You’re barely conscious. And you doubt you’ll remember any of this later, either. You can feel the memories slipping away, the drain at the back of your mind sucking up the fear and bad thoughts and leaving you blank and empty. Numb, safe, but numb.
The paramedic’s mouth moves. You don’t think she’s talking to you, which is good. You can’t hear her over the ringing in your ears. She does some final checks, and then she’s off to the next person.
The two of you are left to silence, to watch the rest of the world in its chaos. You feel like there’s a barrier, a pane of glass, between you and the other people here. Like your TV screen, really. The paramedic goes to a woman and her son. The woman seems fine, but the son has a long gash on his arm. She’s screaming, he’s crying, and the paramedic is handling it all with calm professionalism. You wanted to start screaming too.
You glance at a man in a suit yelling at another first responder, spittle flying into the air with his rage. You think he’s one of the ones you saw earlier in the ballroom. His suit is still perfect, and he doesn’t have a speck of blood on him. Even his hair is still perfectly brushed and coiled.
You looked like a drowned rat in comparison.
“…Are you alright?” The question breaks the silence, and you slowly turn to look up at Bruce.
Well, that’s the dumbest question you’ve ever heard. You thought Bruce Wayne was supposed to be brilliant. Maybe he’s just feeling bad because of the new trauma he’s gifted you tonight? It wasn’t his fault. As most of your mental health issues stemmed from, it was the Joker’s fault.
“No,” you answer, and he nods stiffly. Great chat.
He huffs out a sound of frustration, lifting the hand on your shoulder. Immediately, some of the tension in you seeps out. You hope he doesn’t notice. You think he probably does.
Someone calls out your name. Your head turns to the crowd. They call out your name again, this time closer, and you call back. You’re sort of surprised when a crying Jeanine pushes out of the throng of people. She’s a mess, her hair out of her pristine bun, her suit missing its jacket, and her glasses cracked. Seems she didn’t have a very nice time either.
You look down. She’s also missing her shoes. It’d be kind of gross, walking around on Gotham’s streets barefoot, if you could manage to give a shit. You’re still restarting, however, and all energy is going towards not crying again. You’re failing. Awfully bad, at that.
Whatever. Gotta try.
Panting, Jeanine places her hands on her knees, “I’m so, so sorry.”
It takes a moment for you to load the words through your Windows XP brain, but when you do, you’re more confused than you were a second ago.
“What? Why are you sorry?” you say, for a second imagining Jeanine as one of the people that attacked you.
“Because you wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t… hadn’t forced you to come…” Jeanine’s voice trails off, a look of horror on her face. Ah, she’s noticed Bruce. Apparently, she’s quite afraid of the man. You feel a sense of camaraderie towards the woman. God knows how many times you’d worn the exact same expression talking to one of your own bosses.
And then, well, then you usually got fired. It’s not looking good for her.
“Mister Wayne! I didn’t see you there, apologies!” she says, straightening her shoulders.
“Jeanine, it’s good to see you. Are you well, have you checked with the paramedics yet?”
“I have, Sir. Thank you for worrying about me,” Jeanine answers, with a healthy dose of hero-worship in her voice. You can’t judge, you’d be staring all starry-eyed at Bruce if you weren’t falling asleep where you sat. Apparently, traumatic experiences make you sleep. Who would’ve thought?
Like you hadn’t experienced this scenario a thousand times before. First time with fucking Bruce Wayne standing right next to you, though.
“Of course, I would. You’re one of my people,” he says, giving her a warm smile. Jeanine physically sags with relief at his words, because it sounds like she’s probably not getting fired tonight.
Bruce gets a notification on his phone, hums, and then slides it back into his pant pocket.
“Jeanine, we’re going back together to the manor tonight,” Bruce continues. Also, you were? Nobody mentioned that to you, and certainly nobody asked you about it. Well, fuck what you want, right? Who cares if you desperately want your cramped apartment in the Narrows, you’re getting shipped off to the fucking Wayne Manor of all places.
You just go along with it. Just go along with it. Wayne Manor probably has lots of nice, plush beds, and you’d kill for a pillow and some ambient rain sounds right now.
Bruce looks off to the side, where Tim is on the phone. They make eye contact, Bruce nods, and then turns back to the two of you.
“I’ll be right back. You two stay here, do not go anywhere,” he commands, king of the castle.
There’s quiet between the two of you. Jeanine squirms under your gaze, obviously guilty. You think back over her words, and then you groan.
“Jeanine. Jeanine, did I not have to go to this fucking party?”
Jeanine is quiet. She’s too fucking quiet.
“Jeanine?” your voice is shaky, and you have to bite the inside of your lip to force yourself not to tear up again. It was getting kind of embarrassing, honestly. You did not cry this much. Usually. This was not a usual day, of course. You’d been Ground Hog Day-ed into another reality… you think.
“No, Ma’am, you didn’t need to go. You’re… you used to be a Wayne, and even if you’ve parted from the name, you still have the power that comes with that. You did not have to come tonight,” she says, sounding remorseful and afraid. And maybe she should be.
If you had as much power as she said, you could probably fire her. You press your hands into your face.
“I thought you said you’d quit if I didn’t go,” you grind out, digging your fingers into your eyes, clawing into your already ruined makeup.
“I was lying, Ma’am. As I always do. I’m sorry,” she apologises. None of this makes any sense, and neither does she. Why would she lie? Why is this normal? What is the new normal, and how are you supposed to hide if you don’t know how to blend in?
You realise that you’re falling into old habits instinctively. That maybe you should say something about all this, or at least that you have some weird form of amnesia. You don’t, though. You’re scared, you’re far too scared.
“Well how- I thought you were serious this time!” you cry out, stuttering over your own lies, flinging your hands from your face. Jeanine winces at you. It’s probably the dried mascara running down your face in black rivulets, making you look like an odd mix between a raccoon and a banshee.
You’d seen your reflection in the ambulance’s side mirror. It had almost been as scary as the Joker’s goons. Almost.
“…Please, please don’t fire me,” she begs, her hands clasped tight in front of her.
You realise you probably should for an admittance like that. This was too complicated, this woman and her non-existent relationship with you was far too complicated. You also realise that whoever ran this stupid body before was very used to Jeanine’s baseless threats, and it wouldn’t be at all fair to her. And she seems quite desperate for this job. Which really doesn’t make much sense, because she seems quite important, and she’s working for you, someone else who seems quite important.
God if you fucking knew. You were quickly discovering you didn’t know shit.
“I won’t, just… just don’t say anything about this to anyone, okay? I’m…” you sigh, uncertain what to do, what to say, “I’m having a hard time.”
“Thank you, thank you so, so, so much. I’ll pay you back, I won’t do it again, I’ll do whatever you ask me to-”
“That’s enough, please. I just… I’d like some quiet,” you cut her off, closing your eyes and shuffling back in the ambulance. You cut yourself off from the rest of the world, hide your head behind your knees, and try to ignore the flashing lights and yelling voices. The ambulance shifts weight slightly as Jeanine sits beside you. She’s not too close to feel uncomfortable, just toeing the line.
Bruce comes back, looking over the two of you. He seems sombre, but you’re not sure why. Is it the entire night? Did something bad happen again? Is it just how miserable the two of you look? You don’t care enough to ask.
You just don’t care.
You tune out of their conversation again, even knowing it might be important. When Jeanine leaves, and Bruce invites you to a black car, you follow silently. He opens the door, and after a moment’s hesitation, you follow him in.
He knocks on the panel separating the two of you from whoever’s driving the car, and like a well-oiled machine, the car pulls out of the traffic and the paparazzi and out onto the street. Must be nice. You bet Jeanine is going to have to walk home.
Ah, wait, you’re one of them now. You’re one of those ‘must be nice’ types. Weird. You kept forgetting, somehow. Even with Gotham’s prince sitting next to you. Weird.
“I want you to stay at the manor for the night,” Bruce says, and you nod, barely listening. You’re barely conscious, far too tired to understand the implications of the words he was saying. If there were any, like you said, you couldn’t tell.
You’re watching the city go by, the light streaming past in a blur of colours. You rest your head in your hand, your elbow on the armrest. Even with you pressing your face to the glass, you can’t see the sky. The buildings stretch too high. And even if you could, it wasn’t like you’d see anything aside from some late-night flights. The Gotham light pollution and the smoke-filled sky would see to that.
Bruce doesn’t say anything else after that. You’re grateful for the quiet.
You squeeze your eyes shut, and maybe in some act of self-harm, try to remember what happened tonight. Try to pick through your thoughts, and understand whatever happened. That man… that horrible man. He disappeared into thin air. Gone, just gone.
And your world had changed. You’d gotten richer, more powerful. And yet, and yet… you knew this feeling. You knew this weakness. You knew what it meant when you looked in the mirror and you saw something barely alive.
You knew what grief looked like.
You want to rip out your own hair and chew off your own skin. It didn’t make any sense, and you felt crazier and crazier by the second. And none of it made sense, and yet, you had the worst feeling. An omen, a dark cloud. Something worse than the Joker, something that made even less sense.
Even in this life, were you alone? That wasn’t fair. That didn’t make any sense. That didn’t make any sense at all.
Your voice is quiet in the car. Her voice is quiet in the car.
“Do you know where my Mum is?” a little girl asks the big, strong man, her tiny body dwarfed by the black leather of the car. She’s out of place, out of time. She doesn’t fit here.
She doesn’t think she ever has.
The big, strong man, the hero, stays silent, his face hidden by the darkness. The little girl sobs, cries, wails. She wants her mum back. She wants her family back. And now, she wants her life back.
All have been stolen from her.
Maybe she was dreaming. Maybe she was dead. Maybe you were dreaming. Maybe you were dead. Maybe this was another world, and both you and her now have to navigate another lonely place. At least you’d do it together, hand in hand.
It didn’t matter. You knew where you needed to be.
“I want to see it.”
You need to see it. You grasp desperately at Bruce’s arm, nails digging into his expensive and ruined suit. Begging him, pleading him.
He says something. You think it’s a ‘what?’
“I want to see their graves. I want to see my mother’s grave.”
Bruce’s face darkens, and you’re too tired, too exhausted to tell what emotion flits across it. You wonder if it’s the same desperation you feel. But it confirms it. They’re dead. They’re still dead. Despite everything, despite the entire world changing for you, the most important part had been forgotten.
They were still dead. And you were still here. Alone.
“Tomorrow. Tomorrow, but for tonight, you need to rest,” he promises you, and your hand releases. You watch your palm hang limply in your lap, and for a second, it doesn’t seem like your hand. Bruce starts speaking again, this apologetic, pitying tone. You can’t stand it. You can’t stand it one bit.
And in the rudest, most cowardly thing you’ve ever done, you cover your ears like a child.
The rest of the car ride passes in a blur of colour and sound. You’re in Gotham, driving away from the Tower, you’re at the edges of town, passing over one of the bridges, you’re driving through New Jersey’s countryside, passing green fields and old buildings. You go by the iron-wrought gates of Wayne Manor, up the alley’s winding entryway, and finally, the car rolls to a stop in front of the stairs.
To Mr. Wayne’s credit, he doesn’t open the fucking door for you again. You get to stumble your way out on your own two stubborn legs, swaying drunkenly, sickly. He waits for you at the stairs, and you ignore the arm he offers you. He’s just as blindingly irritating as his son.
Didn’t you like these people? You would again in the morning, you just needed your hate. It was the only thing keeping you going at this point. Pure rage was fueling you as you climbed those steps. You’re panting, but you don’t really know why. They’re not that tall.
You feel weak. You feel so, so weak. And you hate it. You’d worked so hard to be free of it, even when you longed for it like a toxic ex-lover, you’d pushed it away. And now it had it’s fangs wrapped around you again, and again, you’d have to climb out of hell.
Today, it was more literal. Tomorrow? God fucking knows. People were literally vanishing from thin air, Pete’s sake. You’ll try, of course. But god fucking knows.
A butler opens the door, and Bruce enters. Once you follow in, the butler closes the door behind him. This time, you really do try to hear what they say. It’s impossible. You concentrate, but all you get for your hard work is a headache. Tomorrow, you’ll try again tomorrow.
The butler rushes off, something important and butler-y to be done. You really didn’t know what butlers did. You couldn’t imagine what their jobs were other than cleaning and cooking. Accounting? Did butlers do accounting?
“I need to handle some things. Will you be able to find your old room alright?” Bruce asks, interrupting your increasingly inane thoughts.
You blink, at him stupidly. Because you were stupid. You had a brand to keep.
“Yes,” you lie. You don’t really know why you do. Some odd mix of self-protective instincts, exhaustion-induced delirium, and also a deep desire to be alone. You really, really wanted to be fucking alone.
“Goodnight then,” Bruce says, he pauses like he’s going to say something else, but he doesn’t. He’s done that twice now, you think. Maybe he just doesn’t think you’re worth the effort. He’d be right.
You watch his back as he strides off into the darkness of the manor, leaving you shivering in the empty foyer. Your expensive ballgown is tattered, grimy, and worst of all, bloody. You want to get out of it. And then you want to sleep.
The click of his dress shoes fades, and you’re left wondering what the fuck you’re going to do next. Could you just start storming into random empty rooms? Where would you find any clothes? You were not going to sleep in this dress, no way.
So, you start up the grand staircase and start storming into random empty rooms. You find studies, bathrooms, and bedrooms. None that seem like anyone lives in them, of course. They feel like fancy hotel stays, the type you see online and sigh about.
The house, no, the manor, is quiet. Empty. It feels haunted, honestly. It probably was, a building this old and important. And it wasn’t like you didn’t know about Martha and Thomas Wayne. You didn’t think any Gotham native didn’t know about them, about the tragedy that had struck them.
It made Bruce seem like someone real, someone like you. Because if even the billionaires could get shot in alleys in Gotham City, it made more sense when the poor folks died. Like you were all human like God didn’t play favourites.
But, let’s be honest, you’d prefer to be an orphan in a mansion than the Narrows. Bruce Wayne had time to heal after what happened to him, for you it was from the frying pan to the fire.
The orphanage you’d been in for two years before you’d turned eighteen and been kicked out had had a very strict hierarchy. Probably still did, you never went back to check. It was technically a foster home, but the ancient sign beside the front door spoke differently. ‘Gotham Orphanage - Founded by Alan Wayne 1878’, the mark of the Waynes even found there. You used to touch the sign every time you went past it like it was some odd good luck charm. You still owe that sign your first successful job interview. Like you didn’t touch the copper plate every damn day, including every day you’d failed another interview.
And, well, it was Gotham. It wasn’t a good place. It had long been cemented in your mind that those theories that Gotham was cursed were true. That there wasn’t any other explanation.
You pause in your musings when you find a room that actually looks like it might be lived in. A long time ago, you think, from the dust covering the shelves. When you check the closet, you find men’s clothes, also untouched. You hope whoever lives here doesn’t care if you steal their shit, because you certainly don’t. Oh wow, this bathroom is gorgeous. The tub is gigantic, easily able to fit a group of at least six, maybe more. Still, you want to go to sleep more than you want a nice soak, so you go for a quick shower where you get rid of all… all the blood.
You watch the red run down the drain and are brought back to much simpler times.
Even as one of the older kids, you were still new blood. You hadn’t made any friends when you tried to defend the younger, weaker kids, either. The foster ‘parents’ who didn’t let you call them anything other than Mrs and Mr Hemming didn’t care about any abuse that happened under the house, as long as it wasn’t visible. You’d done this ritual before, but it actually had been your blood. It hadn’t hurt as much as this did, for some unknowable reason.
You weren’t a fighter. The very few punches you did take, you never hit back. Not like you had tonight. You’d been terrified the Hemmings would kick you out, stop feeding you. Still, you never moved, either. Never let the others take their anger out on the younger kids. You couldn’t do it. And now, looking back on it, your fear of the Hemmings retaliating was stupid. They’d needed the funds the foster caring gave them, and they were always trying to take in more and more kids.
They were empty threats. You were a terrified child. The what-ifs didn’t really matter anymore.
And maybe you were a bleeding heart type, like the other kids had said. Maybe you were gullible, naive, and a pushover. Like you hadn’t been through all the bullshit everyone else had. Like you being nice and hopeful and all those things that got you picked on weren’t all deliberate choices. One day, all the anger and rage you had would bubble over. It would destroy you and your life in a catastrophe, not unlike the one that took your family.
You’d already pushed it down so many times. Waking up today, in a different, unfamiliar world, had probably just made it worse. As always, you ignore it. It’s not worth worrying about.
Getting out of the shower, you do a very lazy towel off and then grab that mystery man’s clothes. They’re mostly dress suits, but you find a few old T-shirts. It hangs off you like a curtain, but it’s warm and it smells nice. Minty and earthy and… oddly free. Bouncy, alive, but still calming and relaxing. It’s a nice counter to the corpse vibes you’re rocking right now, which is decidedly un-alive and un-calm.
You wonder what it would’ve been like to mourn in safety. Where you didn’t have to worry if someone would steal your portion of food or the few funds you could hide in the garden. Where the glares of others didn’t constantly dig into your skin, reminding you that you weren’t wanted there. That you never would be.
That was alright. The place had stunk of mould and rat shit anyway. And maybe you had in this life. It didn't look like you were doing much better, anyway. No, this version of you somehow looked worse. You didn't know how it was possible, and then you remind yourself that none of this is possible, and you really ought to let go of that word.
Still, you lived in Gotham. You would always live in Gotham. You couldn’t leave, it was your home. It was a part of you, like every other sorry idiot who still lived here. School shootings, bomb threats, the city’s regular ol’ disasters. Even if you had been put in a good foster home, even if you had lived... here, you doubted your life would’ve been that much better. Of course, you were still bitter about it. Couldn’t the world just take a little bit off your plate? Maybe it was now, maybe this was the universe's way of saying sorry. A fancy, but empty house, with a still dead family. Maybe you were a little too greedy, a little too jealous.
You slide the duvet covers to the side, untucking them just like you do whenever you do stay in a crappy motel. When all the sides are thoroughly untucked, you slide underneath the covers. When your face lands on the pillow, you sigh in relief. Despite all the bullshit you’d suffered tonight, you had silk pillows, and this phone had youtube premium, so you could listen to rain sounds on it.
Safe. Sort of. Happy. Sort of. Alive. Sort of.
You told yourself it could be worse. And it could’ve been, so you kept on. Today, even after the night you’d had, you tell yourself it could be worse, again. At least the goon didn’t capture you, at least you didn’t actually see the Joker, at least you had a safe bed for the night, at least…
At least the Batman didn’t rescue you. You know it’s silly, but you can’t help but think it.
You hated him almost as much as the Joker, which was saying something since you regularly daydreamed about ripping that man limb from limb. Because the Bat refused to do anything about the supervillain, to finally put the mad dog down, you would always hate him. There wasn’t any other option. You sort of hated his entire entourage. Even Red Hood a bit, since even if they constantly fought, it was obvious both of them held back when dealing with each other. Still, you hated Red Hood and Robin a little less, after tonight. You kind of owed it to them.
You didn’t want to. You wanted to hate them and keep hating them till you died. It was one of your little things, the little things you couldn’t let go of. The little things that hinted at your less-than-perfect sanity. You felt that if you ever forgot what they’d done, what they kept doing every day, that you’d be disrespecting your family, forgetting some part of them. Some part of their memory, which you greedily hoarded away. Not a single precious recollection was to be lost, not ever.
You weren’t allowed to move on. Weren’t supposed to. Sometimes the many little rules you’d made for yourself felt like they were going to eat you alive. A swarm devouring its master. Swallowing you down bit by bit. Up and up, eating all the parts of you pushed down.
You wrap the blanket tighter around you, closing your eyes tight. Like if you tuck your feet inside the duvet, the monsters can’t get you. Your monsters can’t get you. Sometimes it felt like they were already feasting, and you just refused to feel it.
But only sometimes, right?
MASTERLIST - NEXT
#Series:WWW#yandere batfam#yandere dc#yandere batfamily#yandere x reader#dick grayson x reader#nightwing x reader#jason todd x reader#red hood x reader#tim drake x reader#red robin x reader#damian wayne x reader#robin x reader
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Are you mine?
So I was initially going to do maybe 500 words worth of them being cute and cuddly, but then this happened. I have no control at this point, I am just the messenger.
Astarion x F!Reader, Astarion x Tav, Astarion x Bard Tav, soft Astarion, Astarion POV
Mostly fluff and comfort with a bit of hurt (Astarion’s past recollections), basically just pillow talk, cuddling, banter, non-explicit, no spoilers
Very late Act 1 / early Act 2 (pre-confession). I’ve already written past this point earlier, but I think it’s such a fun time to return to for anything flirty, with Astarion being in love but being pissed off and / or in denial about it.
Approximately 2,000 words
Being able to get by with little sleep was both a blessing and a curse. In no time at all you were ready to take on whatever the day would throw at you. You were rested, alert, ready for battle. The downside? The amount of time you had to spend alone with your thoughts.
You weren’t fully alone, not exactly. You laid on your side with your nose buried in her neck, one of your arms underneath the pillow, the other wrapped around her, your leg following the bend of hers like you were chasing her warmth, bare skin on bare skin, your bodies filling each other’s nooks so perfectly.
You could have been up and doing something useful, you supposed, but you didn’t want to waste a precious second of being able to just hold her.
You winced and sighed, having caught yourself on that thought.
Pathetic idiot...
The truth was, you knew you were living on borrowed time.
Oh you toyed with the idea of amassing more tadpoles for more powers and seeing how long and how far you could take this, but in your heart of hearts you knew this was a lunatic idea. The absolute best-case scenario was that one way or another, the tadpole would be removed from your brain, removing all its benefits alongside it.
Then, you would spend the rest of your eternal life in the shadows, forever looking over your shoulder in fear of being dragged back to Cazador.
You would never see the sun again.
You would probably never see her again.
Suddenly feeling choked up, despite not really even needing to breathe, you pressed your lips against the small of her neck, pausing then landing a few more small, soft kisses along her shoulder.
She stirred and rolled over onto her stomach, looking at you with a knowing smile through her mess of hair.
Shit.
“Oh... I thought you were asleep,” you said.
“I know...” she replied, stretching lazily. “You only kiss me like that when you think I’m sleeping.”
So many implications in that statement. Your mind immediately churned out a dozen ways to respond, deflecting, denying, joking or otherwise brushing it off. But you wanted to see where leaning into it might take you.
“Do I..? Here, I’ll fix that.”
You leaned toward her, placing a soft kiss on her lips. Just your lips brushing against hers, petal-soft. She closed her eyes and hummed in pleasure as you trailed your lips further along her skin, leaving featherlight kisses from the corner of her mouth further up the side of her face.
You were careful to keep the kisses tender rather than sensual. Not something you were accustomed to, at all. She smiled and squirmed a little as your lips dipped below her jawline near her earlobe.
“That tickles...” she murmured, making you chuckle.
“My sweet girl,” you whispered, nuzzling her ear.
Ugh, where in the hells did that come from..? you thought, startled.
She noticed. Of course she noticed.
She shifted onto her side, propping herself up with an elbow and resting her head on her hand.
“Am I? Yours?” There it was again, that knowing, quizzical look.
“Are you not?” you asked.
“Hmm... How can I tell?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” you flashed her a roguish grin, which she ignored.
“Should it be? Is there something you’ve done to claim me as yours?”
Her words might have stung, had her tone not been so playful rather than mocking. She was encouraging, not denying you.
I don’t suppose she’s going to count all the unspeakable things we’ve done to each other. I guess I wouldn’t either.
“Is that what you want me to do?” you asked, slowly tracing a finger down her arm.
“That depends... Do you want me to be yours?”
This conversation was idiotic. Why was it making you increasingly giddy?
“Come now, we have been doing this for how long? Are we really going to be coy about whether or not we like each other?” you asked, trying to sound assured rather than flustered.
She leaned forward, as if to reveal a secret for your ears only.
“That’s not quite what we’re being coy about, now is it?” she whispered, before placing a lingering kiss on your lips.
You were completely out of your depth in this kind of flirting, if one could call it that. Concentrating on the physical and sexual, dropping innuendos, hinting at promises you had no intention of keeping, teasing, arousing, adding in just the right amount of vulgarity to otherwise honeyed words to make them blush and stammer in trepidation... That you could do all day as an afterthought, all while mulling over something you had read earlier, or otherwise being a thousand leagues away with your thoughts.
But this... It was like she was playing with and delicately caressing your innermost, rawest feelings, all whilst inviting you to do the same with hers. Sex was barely even a consideration. This was an entirely different dance. And it was exhilarating.
Before you could think of what to say, she moved on.
“You know, Lae’zel propositioned me earlier,” she said, briefly burying her face in her hands and shaking her head with a quiet, incredulous laugh.
“She did what? ...And how did that go?”
“It was very... Lae’zel. I wasn’t sure whether she was offering to kill me or fuck me at first. I had to politely decline.”
“And you didn’t tell me?” you frowned.
“Should I have?” She studied you with a curious look, resting her chin on her hands. “How would it make you feel? If I accepted her offer?”
Like the whole world was pulled out from beneath my feet. Again.
“You and Lae’zel? Hmm. Sounds like something I’d pay to watch.”
“That’s not what I asked.” Her eyes seemed to be piercing straight into your soul. You had to quickly do a double-take on whether your tadpole might have been betraying anything to hers, before rebuking yourself. She wouldn’t pry like that.
Your eyes roamed around the tent as you tried to assemble some words that weren’t too far from or too close to the truth.
“Lae’zel is... exotic. Far be it for me to stand between anyone and such an... ‘outlandish’ experience. But I would prefer to have you all to myself, if it’s all the same to you. I don’t devote all that time to making sure that pretty head of yours stays on your shoulders just to have Lae’zel decapitate you in her throes of passion.”
“That’s still not what I asked, but I’ll let it slide,” she rolled her eyes. “Getting a straight answer from you is like trying to seduce a blushing maiden.”
“A riveting challenge?”
“A tiresome one. That’s most likely not worth the effort.”
How many blushing maidens have you seduced?
“Alright, fine, I admit I might be a bit jealous. ...On top of being concerned for your wellbeing, darling.”
“Just a bit jealous?” she teased.
“Matters of honour would demand that I challenge her to a duel,” you sighed.
“You have no honour. And she would crush you.”
“I know. But I would die a hero’s death. Songs about me would live through the ages. ...You might need to write them for me.”
“Sure, right after I wrote songs about how I conquered a githyanki,” she snorted. “Or perhaps songs about being conquered by one myself? I could spin it either way. Which do you think would stir more loins?”
“I don’t know and my own loins are taking no part of this. Now are you going to keep talking nonsense, or will you go back to sleep already?”
“Why, so you can sneak more tender little kisses on me?” she laughed.
You didn't really want her to fall back asleep. Talking with her kept your darker thoughts at bay. What you did want, was to feel her wrapped around you again.
“You know what? If you’re not going to sleep, you may as well carry on with your business, and I’ll meditate sitting up for a change.”
You snatched the blanket from her, making her exclaim a sharp “Hey!” as the cold mountain air touched her bare skin, and wrapped it around yourself, settling in a cross-legged position. Moments later, she was on your lap, facing you with her legs wrapped around your hips. Just as you anticipated. You smirked and accepted her in your blanket cocoon, wrapping an arm around her waist and holding her close as you kissed her.
“So, my blushing maiden,” she said as she leaned away from you, slightly, stretching her arms around your neck and resting her forearms on your shoulders. “It seems I have you backed up against a wall. I won’t force you – do what you will with your virtue. But you must decide. Will you give in willingly? Or deny me, and spend the rest of your life wondering: what if?” She leaned in to whisper the last two words dramatically. “I will ask you again: do you want me to be yours?”
You wondered if she had any idea how apt that comparison really was to how you felt.
Or how eerily similar it was to some of the tactics you yourself employed when luring in your victims. Hells, even the words were almost identical to some of the ones you’ve used. To make them surrender with reckless abandon, throwing all caution to the wind, blinded by your promises. Cattle rushing happily to the slaughter.
You knew all this. You’d seen it countless times. But just then, you also saw there was no malice in her eyes. Only something like hope that she was trying to mask with mischief.
Wherever she was leading you, you wanted to follow.
“Fine,” you said softly, looking into her eyes. “I do want you to be mine. And no, I don’t want to share you with anyone.” You felt oddly elated as the words left your mouth. “I’d feel compelled to dismember any hand that touched you, so to give me a fair chance at survival, could you stay away from Lae’zel? Please?”
She grinned and grasped your face in her hands, pressing her lips against yours.
“Good girl,” she purred, still grinning, earning herself a sharp pinch on her bottom, making her jolt before she continued. “This leads me to my next question: do you want to be mine?”
There it was. The trap beyond the lure. You saw it clear as day. And still, you wanted to follow her.
“Darling, after the past 200 years, I’m really not disposed to letting anyone else claim ownership of me”. You watched her smile falter, and you hurriedly continued before it turned to sadness or disappointment, or worse, pity, and spread to her eyes. “But I just might make an exception for you… If the offer is mutual.” You took one of her hands in yours. “So, are you? Mine?” you asked, placing a kiss on her knuckles.
Who’s backed against a wall now?
"Of course I am. As if you even needed to ask.” She touched her forehead against yours before placing another kiss on your lips. Did she have to sound so triumphant saying that? “I am yours and no one else’s. Now you say it.”
Ah, still me.
Still, you fought hard not to laugh as a feeling of relief spread warmly throughout your body. You hadn’t even noticed how tense you were.
“Alright, alright...” You cleared your throat and held a dramatic pause before continuing. “You are mine and no one else’s.”
She let out an exasperated growl and grabbed and twisted one of your nipples. You chortled even as you yelped, grabbing the offending hand and holding it behind her back. She immediately made another attempt with her other hand, which you also successfully intercepted, now holding both her arms behind her. Refusing to give up, she went for your shoulder with her teeth, with a maniacal giggle, as you laughed and tried to fend her off with your chin.
“Yes, I’m yours, I’m yours, you feral wildcat! I’m yours... Only yours.” you declared hastily into her hair somewhere near her ear, as she calmed down. “I mean it. Now behave! I always ask before I bite, don’t I?” you said, releasing her arms.
She attempted to glare at you, her eyes narrowed, but couldn’t keep her face straight and broke into a grin again.
“Well... Look at us...” she drawled, placing her arms back onto your shoulders. “Snatched up onto the nautiloid with nothing but the clothes on our backs, and now we’ve each got a whole other person.”
She looked so pleased and happy... Why..? This couldn’t last. No matter how much you wanted it to. …Could it..?
You were falling, deeper and deeper.
My love... My sweet, sweet love... Where are you taking me?
~~~~~
Next in series - Gentle warding bond
Want more of these two? There’s more. Series master list.
AO3
#astarion#baldur’s gate 3#bg3#astarion fanfic#astarion x reader#astarion x tav#bg3 fanfic#prying Astarion’s feelings from his cold dead hands#1st base raw sex#2nd base I anxiety vomit in front of you#3rd base we go outside during the day
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Good for Me | KTH
Pairing: Bad Boy Taehyung x Wholesome Reader
Genre: Fluff, Smut, PWP (porn with plot LMAO),
Summary: You went home for the weekend, leaving a pissed-off and bruised-up Taehyung dry and devastated. So what does he do?—follow you home. Insane? Probs, but you’re always good for him so why not?
Warning: OC’s parents are those strict nosy parents who still tell you what to do even if you’re 50 years+, mentions of Christianity hfrowhouw SUE ME, i have no idea what oc and tae are but you know there’s something, mentions of violence, blood, fighting, sneaky sneaky, dom tae x subby reader but tae is needy and whipped for her, he’s just a little shit, tae has a favorite curse word—it’s fuck, TAEHYUNG IS HUGE AND HUNG, aggressive handling (but oc consented), degradation/praise combo, pet names (because I’m a simp), oral (m. and f. receiving), fingering, spanking, tae enjoys seeing oc cry, licking, i think i have an obsession with orgasm control/denial, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, unprotected sex (don’t be like them), cream pie, cum play, the ending though MWAHAHAHAH
Word Count: 7.8k
A/N: I’m adding on for the taewhores and also wrote one lol BLAME THE FUCKING ELLE COVERS BECAUSE THIS SHOT OUT OF MY BLEEDING VAGINA DJDBDBSB I’M REPENTING AFTER THIS also cross-posted on AO3. Posting this at 2AM because that's when the feral wolf comes out :D
“You know ___, you shouldn’t be going out and partying. What if you do drugs and we don’t know? You know you should focus on yo—”
“Dad, for the last time, I’ve been focusing on my studies.” You rolled your eyes, not wanting a whole ‘nother lecture when you’re here, and you got here today! “I rarely go out too, plus if I do, I know I have to finish my work! You’ve seen my grades!”
“Yes, I know but still. Those worldly activities won’t get you anywhere in life but trouble.” Your dad expressed his continuous concern for you. He can’t help that you were his youngest. “Especially with boys! I mean your sisters have boyfriends but we don’t want that for y—”
“Dad, please. Nothing’s going on with me.” You semi-lied. You pinched the bridge of your nose before you stared exhaustingly at him. “It’s also not fair, but I don’t want to get into that.” You muttered under your breath as your father rested his hands on his hips.
“I’m just worried about you, sweet pea, especially since you’re farther away from us than your sisters were.” He reasoned worryingly. “We rarely hear from you too.”
“Because I’m just tired and I’m usually studying.” You shrugged. “I’m safe, okay? If I’m not, I know to call you or mom.”
“Fine…” He still didn’t look convinced, but it was enough to end it…for today only. “I always pray for your safety regardless. You should get some sleep since we’re waking up early tomorrow for the church fellowship.”
“I still don’t know why you wanted me to come for the weekend.” It was random and unexpected. But your father called you a couple of days back telling you to come back home for the weekend, so as a good and obedient daughter, you did.
“Of course, you needed to come.” He said like it was obvious. “As the pastor of the church and the one who’s hosting it, I’d like all my children to come.”
“But why aren’t the other two here?” You questioned. You haven’t seen your two older sisters yet.
“I mean they live around the area, unlike you since you’re hours away. We figured that they’ll meet us over there.” He responded.
Great, you were the only one and had to deal with both of your parents for the entire weekend alone. At least your mom was already sleeping, but once she wakes up, it’ll only be twice as worse.
“Alright, well, I’m going to bed. See you in the morning.” You announced before hugging him. “Good night, love you.”
“Love you too, sweet pea, and remember, dear, the Lord is watching.” Your father pointed upwards, indicating the invisible yet existent one. You gulped before nodding obediently and going under your sheets. Before he left your room, he held the doorknob and said, “No boys, and don’t forget to pray!”
“Okay.” You didn’t even bother to look at him as you were situating yourself comfortably in bed. The bedroom lights were clicked off, yet the only light source was your bedside lamp. You heard your door closed shut and the sounds of his heavy footsteps disappeared away from your room before letting out a relieving sigh.
You don’t even know how long you could keep like this. There were many reasons why you wanted to be away for college, and this was one of them. You cheered yourself on right now, knowing that it’s just this weekend and you’ll be back in your freedom in no time.
This was where prayer came in handy, asking for the amount of strength and patience you’ll need with your parents. But it was all interrupted by the blue light and vibrations coming from your phone resting on your nightstand. This sigh you let out was more exasperated than before. You turned your head in that direction. You couldn’t really what was on it at this angle, but you definitely knew who it was.
You snatched your phone to find the 43 messages, 12 missed calls, and 2 voicemails from the one and only Kim Taehyung.
You honestly don’t know how you got into this mess, or how you weren’t able to get him away (probably because you still wanted him to be within reach). But the cycle continued.
It was probably because you were new to that town, having no background about your new hometown, and usually, those who lived there continued to stay there. You were fresh meat. But don’t get it wrong, people were nice and brought you in like you were always part of the community. You found new friends, even living with a girl who treated you so sweetly and caringly. It almost felt like they wanted to protect you from something…or rather someone.
That happened to be Taehyung.
You see here, folks. Kim Taehyung had a…infamous reputation. His name always got a reaction since the day he came into the world. What that meant was people were afraid of him. He grew up as a delinquent, had some family issues, got into loads of trouble, got suspended from school, was shipped to boarding school but got expelled and came back, and even got into countless fights. You recalled someone mentioning he once beaten his teacher up because he got a low grade that he shouldn’t have deserved.
He tended to get what he wanted. It didn’t help the fact that he came from a pretty well-off family, so whatever he did, it didn’t reach the police. Right? Fucking rich people.
Nevertheless, Taehyung’s behavior with or without his familial status was rogue. There have been rumors about him getting into gangs, drugs, you know the typical dark side of society. You couldn’t confirm nor deny it because despite his willingness to tell you, you never wanted to hear anything about it. Ignorance was bliss under this circumstance.
With that being said, when you first came here, you were instantly warned to stay away from him or else…You reasoned with, “or else what?” But then they proceeded to say the same things to you—he was dangerous, he harms others, he doesn’t care about anyone else but himself, if you’re in his way, he’ll wipe your entire existence away, and your life would get fucked up.
You did in fact listen and stayed away. You rarely knew of him or even saw him around, but it was better safe than sorry. Of course, fate begged to differ.
Oh, that’s right. That’s how you got into this mess. You were partners with him in a general requirement course, and then after briefly talking to him, you realized he wasn’t all that bad.
First off, the dude was immaculate looking, like, who wouldn’t want to stare at his chiseled features? Yeah, he stared intensely almost like he wanted to kill you, but it affected you in other ways. His voice was cavernous and velvet like you wanted him to read the Bible to you.
He looked annoyed, yet he was a chill dude. There you thought—give him a chance and a break.
Oh boy, you thought wrong. So so wrong.
But did you love it? Absolutely.
This was why you needed to repent.
You didn’t even bother reading his texts. You decided to call him and annoyingly sat up from your comfortable position. The call didn’t even ring twice because, after the first one, he answered immediately.
“Petal, where the fuck are you?” He shouted through the phone. You squinted to yourself but weren’t as affected by his tone since you were used to it by now.
“I went home for the weekend.” You simply replied.
“And didn’t fucking bother to tell me?”
“It was a last-minute thing, and it slipped my mind.” You shrugged, then you pulled your blankets off of you to get up and habitually pace around the room while you talked. “Plus, you don’t have any authority to know where I am.”
“I absolutely do have the authority whether you like it or not.”
“Ew, red flag, why?”
“I need to know if you’re safe.” His voice subsided this time, knowing he was probably pouting yet you couldn’t see it. Okay, this was rather valid since you were associated with the bad boy of the town.
“Well, I am safe. I’m away from school and all of that.” You blushed, feeling the butterflies in your stomach. “I’m with my parents too. My holy parents, might I add.”
“Right, holy parents and your holy sisters who got married to other holy men.” You could hear the sarcasm leaving his mouth. “Yet there’s nothing holy about their slutty little girl and the man that’s been fucking her to hell.”
“Shhhhh, don’t say stuff like that, Taehyung!” You whisperingly yelled as you stopped your pacing to clench your legs together. You always hated how much of a potty mouth he was. Though you internally loved it. “You know I don’t like that.”
“Come on, Petal. I’m just lightening up my mood, especially since you left me.”
“I won’t be gone for that long. It’s only the weekend, and I’ll be back in no time.” You resumed your pace before standing in front of your window with your back facing it.
“That’s too long for me to not have you.”
“I’m sorry, there’s nothing I can do!”
“You can come back, Petal.”
“No, I can’t!” You shook your head. “My parents will get mad if I leave, for a boy too.”
“That’s a risk I’m willing to let you take.”
“Taetae, no!” You were trying to stand your ground. You already had four lectures with your parents, you can’t argue with him right now. “I need to sleep, it’s getting late too!”
Though his heart fluttered at the use of the nickname, he was getting pissed off that you weren’t being a good girl for him. “Babydoll, be careful with your words. I’m warning you.” His voice went an octave down, shocking your body especially your cunt. Even hundreds of kilometers away, he had such a powerful effect on you.
“I am being careful! With everything. Now please, I have to get up early tomorrow. Good night, okay Taetae? I’m sorry.” You rushed your words in fear that you were getting too loud that your parents might hear.
“This isn’t ov—” You didn’t let him finish because you decided that this conversation was over. You didn’t want to get into trouble on both ends, but your parents scared you more than him. They’ll probably want to purify you if they found out you were stained by the lustful demon-like Taehyung.
Despite ending the call, here came Taehyung calling you over and over again. You could not be bothered with it, so you settled it back onto your nightstand. You were exhausted, frustrated, and horny, but sleep was above all right now. You had to bite your tongue and go to bed.
You were about to get back into your sheets when suddenly your window from the second level of the house opened, and a gust of wind pushed its way inside. Your head snapped back at the speed of light, then a large palm covered your entire mouth before you could scream your heart out.
Though in low light, your wild widened eyes saw his face. But what sparked you was his concerning appearance. While disheveled ebony hair was pushed back with little strands falling off his forehead, yet there was a deep cut with dried-up blood around its corners. Hues of purple and yellow covered his rich eyes that gleamed in the night whilst glaring deeply into your soul. The perfect bridge of his curved nose had another pained gash. His ever-so-plumped lips were peeled and split open and the corner of his mouth held bruising. Despite all, he looked so perfect in your dazed eyes.
“Good night, okay Taetae?” At a lower volume, he mimicked your voice at a higher pitch than how you actually sounded. He dropped his hand off of you and started waving both hands around. “Oh, look, I’m ___. I need my rest to go to church with my pastor dad and repent all the nasty shit I do with my Taetae.”
You didn’t even bother to point out how he was inaccurately impersonating you because you were shushing him to shut up. “Taehyung, be quiet. My parents could hear you.” You shook your head, eyes shifting from the closed door to him. Then you realized it wasn’t locked, so you rushed there to lock it immediately. You checked the knob and once it didn’t budge, you peered back at the frustrated man standing tall and intimidating. “How did you even find me?”
“I always find you.” He snorted as his eyes roamed around your childhood bedroom. Very pink with an unhealthy amount of plushies scattered around and you had so many pictures of your family. Not to mention the Bible at your desk. “We also share each other’s location.”
“I don’t even look at yours.”
“That’s your fault.” He retorted back.
“Taetae, you’re all bruised up!” You gasped as you finally saw patches of blood stains on his denim and army fabric jacket. A sleeve was torn and ripped. His knuckles held more bruising cuts and discoloration. You couldn’t even process that he had no shirt underneath because battered markings painted his torso. It wasn’t unusual to see him like this because these things occurred regularly but never made you less at ease. You reached for his hands and inspected for any other cuts and bleeding. “Noo, do you feel like you have a concussion? Is your head also okay? Will you need stitches agai—“
Out of nowhere, his long fingers grasped under your jaw, pulling you closer to his face. His grip tightened, causing you to wince in pain. Dang, he was so furious. Not bothering to answer you, he interrupted your worries. “Now the fuck you were doing, talking back at me and hanging up? You’re not being a good girl right now.”
Though you were in a light panic for him, you didn’t like when he scolded you like that. You frowned profoundly, “I-I’m a good girl, Taetae.” Your cheeks were puffed and squishy, he even struggled to put a hard exterior.
You were always so soft even before him. You didn’t like getting scolded despite hearing numerous lectures from your parents. You always wanted to be obedient to those you loved.
However, Taehyung’s scoldings hit a little differently.
“Oh yeah, does a good girl leave their man without permission?” Taehyung patronized you, he knew how to get you to fear him. You merely shook your head and apologized, but he wasn’t having it. “Words, Petal. Speak up.”
“No, they don’t. I-I’m sorry, Taehyung.”
He lets out a dark chuckle before he pressed his injured lips to your forehead. They felt soft and warm on your skin. “I don’t think you’re sorry, babydoll. Seems like the bad girl needs to be punished.”
You shook your head, lips pushing out into a pout. “No, please.” You breathed. “My paren—”
Taehyung tutted and rolled his eyes before using the hand that held your face to coerce your head down so you can drop down to your knees. “Kneel before me, slut.”
You whimpered weakly as your knees landed on the ground with a loud thud. Your palmed rested in front of his dirtied boots. Your heart palpitated fast in fear of getting caught, but your mind was preoccupied with the unexpected slap from the man before you.
You bit your lips deeply, trying not to make any more sounds. The tears in your eyes threatened to be released but you also held back by squeezing your eyes shut. More so to not give Taehyung satisfaction. But when you peeled them back open and looked up, it was over for you.
He leered down at you, his stone demeanor expanded by the second. You noticed his naked chest raising harshly from the breaths he took. You immediately felt smaller and smaller the longer you stared at each other in this position.
“Be a good girl and take my cock out”. He commanded as he threaded his fingers through your hair and yanked you closer. “Now.”
You didn’t hesitate any longer. Your trembling hands tugged his belt off. You tried your best to quicken up the pace, but it seemed to hold you back as you struggled with the button pants and zipper. Taehyung noticed too so he fastened his grip on you to tell you to hurry up, making you weep.
“S-sorry.” You apologized quietly but it wasn’t enough for him. Once you pulled his pants down, you were met with a familiar bulge in his underwear. When you freed him, his monstrous dick slapped his toned stomach and bounced before you.
Taehyung never failed to amaze you with how colossal he was. The first time you saw it you wanted to run away, but he caught you and you got hooked. His darkened mushroom head was huge while the base was thick and his curved length was long and veiny. It was the prettiest dick you’ve ever seen and seemed that God blessed him very well.
Nothing happened between the two of you yet but the slit of his tip pearled fluids. You gawked agape with your mouth parted and tongue swiping your lips. His dick twitched, waiting for you to do something but you were too mesmerized.
Impatiently, using his unoccupied hand, he seized your jaw again, keeping your mouth open. “You’re fucking taking too long.” It didn’t take him long to bring your lips to his cock and push all of him in one motion.
You let out a muffled cry with watery eyes. If the tears fell before, they sure did now. Your throat muscles throbbed around him from the unexpected slamming. You gagged painfully, especially since his blunt head hit the back of your throat. Your mouth produced trickling drool all over him and down your chin. You were by no means prepared, but Taehyung didn’t seem bothered as he began his harsh pace.
You held onto his muscular thighs. You were crying so much but your sobs were smothered by the cruel thrusts of his rabid cock. Despite the sting, the actions sent a flood to your thin underwear. The familiar warmth covered your stomach, clenching your thighs together for some pressure on your poor leaking cunt.
“Fuck, Petal. Shit.” He cursed lowly. His cavernous moans echoed through the air. “Look at me.” His order sounded like a threat. He stopped his movements; his cock halfway in your mouth. When you opened your heavy lids, he looked so hot and bothered even in your blurry vision. “My pretty girl.” His thumb wiped off the trail of tears.
You were always pretty in his eyes, smiling, and laughing, even when you get angry at his annoying ass. But he especially thought you were pretty when he made you cry like this.
Then he went back to bobbing your head brutally on him. Your nails scratched his thighs, leaving indents on them. You retched again, spit drenching all over him. “Fucking amazing for a slut like you. Is this what you wanted, since you’re a fucking bad girl?”
You wanted to say no, but you couldn’t so you shook your head and whimpered. You weren’t a bad girl. You were good!
You were getting lightheaded, feeling so stuffed to even breathe. Taehyung observed your face getting a little pale. You always forgot to learn how to breathe when giving him a blow job.
He pressed into you once more and a bit longer than usual, so he can imprint the feeling of your mouth again into his spank bank. He ultimately pulled out, leaving a long string of drool from his tip to your crimson lips. His dick covered in your sweet saliva.
You heaved profoundly and wept here and there. You wanted to tell him off, but you were too scared to say anything. You pushed the tears away with the back of your hand and gulped your words but it pained you to do that.
“God, you’re messy,” He laughed cynically at you. “Aww, you’re upset, babydoll?” He asked condescendingly.
“N-no,” You sniffed, trying your best to be strong. “I’m not.”
“Good, you better not.” He said, letting go of your hair. “Stand up.”
This time you were swift on your feet. Though with painful reddened knees, you stood up wobbly and held Taehyung’s biceps for some support. He hooked an arm around your waist, pulling you to be chest to chest with him.
Being like this, you saw how he towered over you. The height difference wasn’t compared to a gremlin and the Incredible Hulk but he was still way taller than you. He absorbed your appearance, finally taking in how you wore a cute brown bear pajama shirt and matching shorts. The fresh aroma of roses from your body wash and your natural scent swirling into his nostrils sent his pheromones into a frenzy. He wanted you so badly.
“Are you gonna be a good girl and let me fuck you while your parents are sleeping?” His hot breath splashed your face, fluttering you into submission. You unconsciously nodded excitingly but it caused him to tut at you. “I’m not gonna tell you again. Exact words, babydoll.”
“Yes!” You shouted too quickly that only after you caught yourself, covering your mouth with your palms. He smirked at your reaction—so needy for him. Just the way he loved it. Your hands slowly traveled to his shoulders as you batted your beautiful irises at him. You didn’t like swearing, but it came often when you were with him alone. “Uhh, p-please f-fuck me. I’m your good girl, Taetae.”
The perfect answer.
He bent down to peck the tip of your nose then went further down to lick the trunk of your neck. He picked a spot before suckling around to mark his territory. You mewled at the sensation, slithering your arms around his nape. He began moving towards your bed while you stepped back, following his lead until you fell back onto the sheets of your mattress. Your back rested while your legs hung at the edge of the bed.
Your unapologetic eyes wandered his frame.
He kicked his pants and boots off his ankles, leaving him in only his jacket. But even that, he took off. The faded and lighter scars sprawled his torso, showing evidence of fights and brawls through the years. The fresher wounds battered his rough skin and once you saw gauges wrapped around his right hip with blood patches seeping through, you sat up straight with pupils dilated.
“Taehyung, your—”
“I didn’t tell you to speak,” He growled, and stalked to the bed before pushing your shoulder roughly to lay back down. Your body bounced, trying to process what was happening but he tugged your shorts and panties down and off your skin.
He kneeled in front of you, callous palms spreading your thighs apart to reveal your leaking puffy pussy. He didn’t even touch you and you were this soaked. He inhaled deeply, taking in your sweet essence.
Jesus Christ, you were always embarrassed when he did that. It was like his human nature devolved into animalistic instincts. His mouth had a mind of its own, nibbling your inner thighs and placing even more marks on you like he wanted to claim you. You gasped quietly, jerking a little. So sensitive as always. His thumbs stretched your nether lips apart, revealing more of you to him. The petals of your sex opened for him. Your little hole throbbing around nothing but secreted so much wetness, even spotted your tiny clit inflamed, begging to be touched.
But to your luck, Taehyung wasn’t the type to get on with it right away…well he can, but most of the time, he chose not to. No, sir, he took his time with you, to the point you had to drop your pride and beg. His fingers lightly caressed your sex, enough for you to feel it but do no pleasure.
“Tae,” You whined, hands reaching for him but he swatted them away.
“Don’t touch me, put them on your sides.” He seethed through his teeth.
“But—”
Smack! The slap stung your cunt, making you welp loudly. He does another and your head turned to the side. You cried, pressing your face into your blankets. Taehyung continued hitting your pussy until it was red and sensitive.
“Naughty girl!” He slapped your lips once more, jolting your feeble body. “What’s wrong with you tonight? You think just because you’re with your family that you forgot all the rules we had, hm??”
“N-n-no.” You sobbed, shaking your head cowardly. “I promise I reme—”
A knock came on your bedroom door.
Both of your heads shot toward the direction with wide eyes. Another knock happened again before the person on the other end said, “___?” Another knock. “Sweet pea, I heard noises. Are you good?” Then the fucking knob jiggled, but fortunately, you locked it. “Why’d you lock the door? What are you doing?”
Shoot, it was your dad. Your pastor dad. Now your heart was heavy and dropped down to your uneasy stomach. You needed to say something quickly, but no words came out. You shifted to see Taehyung who shrugged and smirked devilishly, leaving you to fend for yourself.
It was only until your dad said, “Do I need to use the spare keys to open the door?” That you spoke up.
“No! I’m good, I just…I accidentally dropped my phone on my face.” You lied, praying he’d buy it.
“You and your dang phone.” He complained through the door. Taehyung’s mouth went wide with silent laughter hearing you get scolded. You pursed your lips, shaking your head. He was no help at all because there was a gleam of mischief and it wasn’t a good sign at all. “You need to get off of that thing, sweet pea. You won’t have enough sleep. Remember you’re joining the praise team in the morning.”
“Yes, dad! I know. I’m sorry to—unghhh.” Your sentence was interrupted by the sudden breach from Taehyung’s two long fingers sliding in so smoothly into your cunt.
“___? ___, are you okay?” Your dad questioned as he continuously knocked on your door.
It didn’t take long for Taehyung to find your g-spot, curling his fingers to muscle memory. His digits pumped into you, and at times, he thumbed your clit. He had your eyes rolling back and biting your lips to stop your struggling whimpers. “I-I’m f-fine right now. D-d-ahh worry!”
“Are you sure you’re fine? You sound like you’re in pain.”
Taehyung dived into your pussy, taking a long lick before wrapping his lips around your sensitive nub. The tips of his fingers did their magic hitting your insides, playing with the squish of immense ecstasy.
You shrieked involuntarily, fisting the blankets under you as you threw your head back. “Yes, I’m fine!” You groaned distressingly. “I-I’m so…touched by my prayer before sleeping.” You swore faintly when Taehyung suckled and flattened his tongue on your clit.
“Prayer to the Lord is always so emotional, sweet pea.” Your father pointed out, but you really didn’t give a shit. “Alright, don’t want to disturb your time. Hope you get some sleep soon though. Good night.”
His footsteps faded away and you mentally cheered that you didn’t get caught, but you had sudden guilt that you basically spoke to your father with a guy eating you out.
Taehyung released his mouth off you to see how you appeared, crumbling at his touch. Your face wrinkled together with your mouth parted, and you saying his name with your pretty voice had his aching cock twitching. He reached over to the hem of your shirt and pulled it up, revealing your soft bare breasts and hardened nipples. “Such a pretty girl. Touched by the prayer? No, no, I’m the one you should be praying to.”
“D-don’t say that.” You moaned he knew you were very much in tune with your spirituality but he also liked to mess around with you.
“Why, Petal? You don’t like what I say, hmm?” He pouted mockingly, pushing his fingers deeper into you. You gasped, digging your head into the mattress. “I’ll give you everything that you want.” These blankets did no justice, you needed to hold onto him. You put your hand out, silently asking to hold him. Taehyung was mean but he wasn’t that mean…at least not today, so he accepted your request and intertwined his vacant hand with yours.
He felt your cunt getting tighter, understanding what was about to happen. Well, remember how Taehyung wasn’t that mean? That statement was taken back because he said, “Don’t come until I say so.”
You whined, giving your best doe-eyes and pinkest pout. “Please, Taetae. Wanna cum.”
Without removing any touch of you, he stood from his feet before covering your entire body with his large one. His face leaned down until your noses touched. “No.” He simply replied, yet his pace wasn’t slowing down. “Hold it.”
Your eyes twitched, wrestling to keep your orgasm under control. He always loved to play with you like this. You attempted to stabilize your breathing, deep and slow breaths. In…and out. In…and out. Yeah, this wasn’t working when Taehyung’s four-inch fingers were jamming into you. The pressure in your stomach tightened, clenching your abdominals to get your reach. It wasn’t a good girl thing to do, but he was mean!
“Can’t! Please!” You begged once more, knowing it couldn’t be stopped.
“No, be a good girl.”
Sorry, Taehyung but it was too late. Your eyes were already going to the back of your head, and you were prepared for the high of it all. But once you started arching your back, he pulled his fingers and hand away from you. You still had your orgasm but it felt so weak going through it without him helping you come down. Your pussy burned unpleasantly.
He glared at you, watching your lousy orgasm go to waste. All because you didn’t listen to him. But whose fault was that? Taehyung will never take the blame.
Pathetically unsatisfied, you came down and exhaled. It physically and emotionally pained you how shitty that orgasm was. And with a pissed-off Taehyung looming over you, it’ll be torture.
“Bad, bad girl.” Taehyung was disappointed at you, something you grimaced over. “I told you not to but you didn’t it anyway.”
“I couldn’t stop it…” You whispered.
“Couldn’t stop yourself? You really are a fucking slutty bad girl.” Getting slightly self-conscious from his jeering eyes, you closed your legs and covered your chest. Your face flushed with post-orgasm and shame.
Taehyung saw your actions, softening his tough demeanor. He lifted you to the middle of the bed before climbing over your concealed body. At this angle, the moonlight struck his body. Every muscle and indent defined, every wound and bruise visible, every part of him shined so beautifully and perfectly.
His knees spread your legs open to go in between while carefully pulling your arms off your chest. His face goes down to yours, planting little kisses all over your face in hopes he doesn’t make you feel too bad. “Tell me if I go too far, Petal. Don’t hide from me.”
You shook your head, “You’re not. I’m sorry I didn’t listen. I’ll be good, I promise.”
You were soooo good to him. He smiled tenderly, pecking another on the tip of your nose before the demon smirk came back. “Then you’re still gonna get it. Get on your knees.”
You nodded and were about to twist your body when Taehyung grasped your waist and flipped you over. He pushed down your back, arching your ass up before landing a loud slap to it. You cried into the pillow, hugging it as if it was like your protection. He slapped the other cheek, receiving another reaction from you.
“Since you’re weak at controlling yourself,” He grabbed his thick length. His head played with you, gliding across the slit and collecting your saturation until he aligned it with your hole. He puts a little bit of pressure, enough to make you moan for more but then stopped. “Maybe I should punish you by giving more than what you can handle.”
That was…even worse. But you had to accept it, so you could be the good girl for him.
Knowing he could maim you, he steadily filled you up. You felt every inch of him getting deeper and deeper inside, the stretch of your pussy left a dull ache. He held your hips as he guided himself in. Once he bottomed out, the both of you let out a sigh of relief. Every time you do this, it always felt like the first time because of how big he was.
“So fucking tight, Petal.” He hissed. The sensation of you pulsating had his head thrown back.
After a while, the two of you knew it was time for him to move. Taehyung pulled himself back, leaving his head and then piercing back in. You jolted forward, but he kept you firmly to continue his aggressive yet even pace. Each penetration to your spot left you wailing into the pillow, gripping its covers. The slapping of your skin resonated in your childhood bedroom, the only sound that could be heard other than Taehyung’s heavy breathing and your keens.
“This is what you wanted, right?” Taehyung asked lowly before speeding up his movements, making you louder in the cushion. When he didn’t get the answer that he wanted, he looped your hair around his hand and hauled your upper body until your back pressed to his sweaty chest. You winced in pain but you hooked an arm around his neck.
“I want—unggh, y-yes.” Tears fell on your cheeks. Your neck extended to the side, giving him full access to licking and sucking your skin. “A-am I being a—your good g-girl?”
“You’re such a fucking good girl, Petal. Fucking good girl.” He praised you, muffling into your neck. His other hand kneaded your boob, massaging your nipple between his appendages. You groaned at the added touch. The twist in your stomach rose, sensing another high coming soon. Taehyung noticed you tightening around his ramming shaft, so he slid his hand down to your clit and made circular motions. “Cream around my cock again. Come on, pray to me. Bless my name with your sweet sounds.”
“Taehyung, please, please, ahh.” You breathed heavily, bringing your head back to rest on his shoulder. His length ravaged your insides and his fingers pinched your sensitivity until the knot released. You splashed with blistering ecstasy, almost about to scream at the top of your lungs but his palm covered your pitched sounds. You stifled chants of his name with your rolling eyes, even lapping your tongue over his callous. His thrusts slowed down this time, easing you down. He showered you with compliments, kissing your jaw and cheek.
Once you came back, he took himself out of you to lay you down. He needed to see your face clearly at least once. He grabbed himself and plunged in again. You keened in volume, but Taehyung shushed you. “Babydoll, be quiet. Don’t want your dad to exorcise the both of us.”
You nodded pliantly and slapped hands over your lips. He moved at his previous pace, yet your sensitivity increased after your two orgasms. You were overstimulated but pushed through to help him meet his climax. He handled your hips where it would leave bruises days after. He hunched over to your chest, latching onto your nipple and swirling it with his tongue.
His touch was a mixture of all—needy, urgent, warm, cool, rough, and supple. You loved it all, you wanted more of him. You quivered into your palms, muting the uncontrollable noises escaping you.
He popped off your nub. His thrusts jerked faster and sloppier, recognizing how close he was. His resonant whimpers rung through your ears. It was like his thumb was magnetic to your clit because it was on you again and flicking rapidly. You shuttered, shaking your head at the intensity. It was too much. “One more for me, Petal. I wanna feel you, please.”
Darn, he said please. There was no way to deny him. After four more pumps, he buried himself still. He painted your insides white with his cum, whining your name. Meanwhile, you tirelessly came again. Blinding white spots came into your vision, ringing happened in your eardrums. The feeling of scorching euphoria spread all over your body as you curved your spine. Your hands were replaced with Taehyung’s mouth, sluggishly kissing you and keeping you as quiet as possible but let’s be real.
He kissed your lips once more before scooting in between your neck and shoulder to leave more smooches on your perspiring skin. His cum inside electrified you, feeling it flood around. It wasn’t until his softening dick pulled out of you, that the dam of cum seeped out your weeping pussy.
What an immaculate sight that he couldn’t resist.
Your energy-drained body thought it was over. But Taehyung had other plans because once you felt his tongue on your enlarged overloaded clit, you gasped in shock. “Taehyung, can’t anymore!” Your fingers attempted to push him off of you but you were too helpless and fatigued to overpower his strength.
He tasted the concoction of both of your cum, playing with the juice all over you and his mouth. He was addicted to the taste, vibrating another low moan to your clit.
You begged for him to stop, but he wasn’t going to finish until you came one more time. He lets go hastily and said, “Last one. Come on, Petal.”
Then there was your last orgasm. It was weaker than the previous, better than the first, but the most agonizing one. It burned but was so divine. You shoved your face into your cushion, crying away from every sensation and emotion you felt.
Taehyung was finally off of you and went up your body to kiss you again. But you were so lethargic, you couldn’t keep up and lay there like a Twinkie. You didn’t even comprehend how he walked out of your bedroom to look for the bathroom, knowing damn well your parents could see him.
But he made it back alive and unseen with a damp cloth to clean you up. He wiped you clean as you stared at him with so much endearment and swell to your heart even after pounding you like an animal.
After he was done cleaning, he threw the dirtied rag to the ground before climbing back in bed and putting the covers over your naked bodies. “You did so good, ___. My good girl, my favorite girl.” He pressed a kiss on your temple before you fell into slumber.
-
“___, wake up! We’re gonna be late!” Harsh knocks through your door disrupted your dreams. You groaned loudly, wanting to go back to sleep. “Sweet pea, get dressed!” It was your mom calling for you. You rubbed your eyes sluggishly in your raggedy state and rolled over. With squinting lids, you searched for your phone to check the time.
You overslept, and you panicked a bit. You kept your cool, it was fine. This was a small bump, but you’ll get over it.
Suddenly, something or someone shifted beside you. You turned your head before you were fully awake by your heart dropping down and coming out of your ass. A peaceful hibernating and naked Taehyung was by your side, cuddling your body. No wonder you woke up with furnace-like heat against you.
Immediately, you shot out of your bed to stand up but you completely forgot that after a night with Taehyung, you become temporarily paralyzed from the waist down. So you stood up and your feeble numb legs made you drop to the floor.
“___, are you awake? I heard a noise.” Your mom questioned again.
“Yeah,” you grimaced at how raspy your voice was. “I-I just woke up, I’m sorry.” You crawled towards the other side of the bed where Taehyung was.
“You have 30 minutes! I told you not to stay up late at night! You know…”
You tuned out her lecture because you were trying to wake Taehyung up in fear that you might get caught. “Taetae, wake up.” You were usually so gentle because it took him a while to fully get up but you slapped the shit out of him.
His eyes stammered open in surprise. He bolted awake and in pain. He was about to yell but you covered his mouth as you stared with alarming pupils. “It’s morning, my parents are awake. I need to get ready and you need to leave.”
“___! Are you listening to me? Do I need to open your door to get you ready?” Your mother complained, trying to open your door but it was still locked. “I’m getting the key—”
“No, mommy!” You protested. Both of your heads directed to the door with widened eyes. “I swear I’ll get ready. I promise I’ll be quick.”
“Okay…I’m almost done with breakfast.” She announced.
You breathed out in relief, knowing you were clear for now. But once you looked over to the naked man still in your bed, you had another morning task to do. “You need to leave. If I don’t come out in five minutes to go get my teeth brushed, my parents will come to get me out.”
Usually, Taehyung would play around, but he knew this time meant business. He nodded obediently. You rolled away to give him some space to get out and gather his scattered clothes. As he was getting dressed, you watched him.
The bruises, the cuts, and that deep wound were all still there. It made you upset, frowning at the mere thoughts of what Taehyung dealt with before coming to see you. You never liked what business or situation he was in, you didn’t know fully but again, just by looking at it, it was not good.
Taehyung detected your staring, but he was surprised at your sad state. “What’s wrong, Petal?”
“I know I said I don’t wanna know what you do, but it won’t change the fact that I don’t like seeing you get hurt.” You explained. “I’m seeing all of this and I’m worried sick, Taetae.”
He sighed, putting his jacket back on then walking over to pick you up on your feet. You used him as leverage. You acted like a baby dear standing on its legs for the first time, making him chuckle at your struggling state but it was too adorable. “I’m sorry for worrying you. You probably wanted to know what happened and I’ll tell you more about it later, but let’s just say I’m trying to get out of the things.”
Your eyes sparkled with joy, “You are? You’re not just saying that, are you?”
He smiled and shook his head, “I’m not just saying that. I’m serious. I’ve been…in it for a long time but I’ve been also wanting to stop.” You nodded understandingly. “Wanna do this for myself, but for you. I don’t want any of them or other affiliations to find you and use you against our will. It’s not easy, hence why I arrived like this, but it’ll come to an end.”
“Okay,” You grinned sweetly before puckering your lips and waiting for him to come.
He leaned down and accepted you, He circled his arms around your body as he kissed you tenderly. He parted away, foreheads touching. “I’m gonna miss you, Petal.”
“As I said, it’ll only be this weekend. I’ll be back tomorrow night.” You reassured but it wasn’t enough to prevent the pout on his lips. “Come on.”
The two of you walked over to the window. He opened the pane as he prepared his descent. His legs were out hanging, his arms and torso still inside your room. You went over to give him one last kiss for his travels back.
“I’ll miss you too, Taehyung.” You giggled, captivating his entire heart.
Feeling overwhelmed with the thoughts and emotions of you, he blurted out, “I love you so much, ___.” It was the first time either of you said it, and he just realized what he said when his eyes grew the size of saucers and stared at him like he was insane. You were a fish, opening and closing your mouth with no words coming out. You didn’t know how to react, but you definitely felt your heart palpitating briskly.
Before you could finally say anything, he abruptly goes, “Okay, well, yeah bye. See you in psychology class.” He descended as fast as he could, trying to get away as possible. You didn’t even watch him out the window, which was a good thing for him as reached the ground. While walking away, he was mentally screaming at himself and fisting the air at what he did.
-
You were finally dressed and appropriate for church. You fixed the clip in your hair before walking out of your room and down the stairs. Yet your thoughts were elsewhere and about the boy who was in your room not too long ago.
He said I love you. The fucking bad boy of the town confessed his love for you. What the fuck? First of all, you weren’t even together. You didn’t know what you were, whatever. The only thing you knew was that Taehyung would beat the shit out of any guy that came your way. Second, it was an odd choice to say a confession after a sneaky night at your lover’s childhood house with their parents sleeping at the end of the hallway.
Thirdly, you knew what your feelings were but the little shit didn’t give you a chance to comprehend and tell your side. Ugh, now you have to deal with him opening up once you were back in town.
You reached the kitchen, greeting your parents. Your mom told you to take a seat as she prepared a plate for you. She glanced at you, then took another look intently yet you didn’t seem to notice.
Once seated, your father scrolled his phone for news and reread his notes for his sermon. He gazed up at you, then did a double take before raising an eyebrow yet you didn’t see his stare as your mom walked towards the table with your breakfast.
You were too busy looking down at the settled breakfast before to spot the questionable looks your parents made. Once you were about to devour your eggs and kimchi, your dad stopped you. “What were you doing last night?”
You blinked, “I was on my phone late at night, and did my emotional prayer, remember?” Your father hummed, nodding eerily calmly.
Then your mother spoke up as blunt and knowledgeable as she was. “Then why do you have hickeys all over your neck?”
A/N: There will NOT be a part two :D
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#matcha masterlist#taehyung x reader#taehyung fic#taehyung fanfiction#kim taehyung x reader#taehyung smut#taehyung angst#taehyung fluff#kim taehyung fanfic#kim taehyung#bts fanfic#bts fluff#bts smut#bts x reader
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HE LIKES MY AMERICAN SMILE ━━ OP81.
love is a wild ride, and logan sargeant's sister is about to find this out the hard way.
( oscar piastri x sargeant!reader )
━━ part four.
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yourusername here’s a sneak peek of the photos from a shoot me and my beloved did for hermès! i’m so honored to get to work with so many skilled and talented people! none of this would’ve been possible without them
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user these are stunning!! 😍❤️
user I MISSED THE RIDING CONTENT
user genuinely had no idea y/n was a rider
↳ user no fr cuz the sargeants are all athletes in some way it’s crazy!!
↳ user i think she just rides casually now 🤔 but she used to compete when they were in europe
logansargeant do i get to brag and say my sister modeled for hermes now?
↳ yourusername there’s plenty of other brands i’ve modeled for that you could brag about 💀 and it was technically my horse that modeled
landonorris ok so are you gonna take me for a ride sometime?
↳ yourusername only if you promise to do the same
↳ user WAIT HOLD ON WE'VE MISSED SOME CHAPTERS
↳ user is y/n not with oscar???
↳ user this bitch is homie hopping the mclaren boys 😒😒
You have barely enough time to respond to the knocking— or rather pounding— on your door before it's being flung open and Logan, looking very much the part of an angry brother, barges in.
“Is it true?” He asks in lieu of a greeting.
“‘Hi, Y/N,’” you begin sarcastically, rolling your eyes. “‘So good to see you, Y/N. Sorry for barging in, Y/N. Can I have a moment of your time, Y/N?’ Why of course, dearest brother of mine. What can I do for you?”
Logan doesn’t seem amused by your antics, though. His eyebrows are furrowed, his mouth is pinched into a frustrated frown, and his hands are clenched into fists at his sides. He’s in his running clothes, and there’s still sweat keeping his hair plastered to his forehead, which gives you the impression that whatever he’s asking about had been deemed important enough that he couldn’t even be bothered to shower and change before confronting you about it.
You wonder, briefly, if his new trainer is downstairs in the living room or if he’s gone home already. You almost ask about it just to piss him off even more, but he looks genuinely serious and you’ve— mostly— grown past the years of purposefully picking on him to get a reaction.
Instead, you sit up further in bed and look at him expectantly, prompting him with a wave of your hand to elaborate.
“Are you dating Lando Norris?”
The question, and the sincerity with which it’s asked, startles a laugh out of you. The flash of hurt in your brother’s eyes, however, forces you to bite back the immediate retort. Logan isn’t asking to be a dick, you remind yourself.
Before you answer, you pull your legs up to your body and pat at the now free space in front of you.
He purses his lips, but eventually, he closes the door— softer than how he’d opened it— and moves to sit on the edge of your mattress. For a moment, as he looks at you, he doesn’t look like the nearly 23-year-old that he is. When you were younger, he’d come into your room and talk about his races, what all he did wrong, and what new things he was going to try next time, and the young man that sits before you now reminds you a lot of that little boy.
“No,” you answer him simply. “I’m not dating Lando. He and I are just friends.”
He doesn’t look convinced. “But do you want to date him?”
You shake your head and sigh, before grabbing your phone off the bedside table and pulling up the brief text conversation you had with Lando last night after he’d tipsily called you. There’s a frankly obscene amount of typos and more emojis interspersed throughout than you thought a guy like him would use, but the majority of it is all the details of his supposedly foolproof plan.
You take a deep breath, weigh the consequences of your actions for a split moment before throwing caution to the wind, and turning the screen to face Logan.
“I don’t want to date Lando,” you admit. “I want to date Oscar, and he’s helping me.”
Logan’s silent, and you pray that it’s just because he’s too busy reading through the messages to focus on reacting to what you’ve said. But the silence stretches on, and on, and on, and suddenly you regret saying anything. Maybe you should’ve just agreed and said it was Lando all along—
“I know Oscar better than Lando,” Logan suddenly says. “I don’t know why you wouldn’t just ask for my help.”
It’s your turn to be silent now. You open your mouth, close it, open it again, and close it again. You probably look like a fish, but you’re so taken aback by what he’s said that it doesn’t even matter.
“You’re not, like, mad?” You pull your phone back and let the screen fall dark, eyes focused on Logan.
He looks at you like you’re dumb, or like you’ve actually turned into the fish you were momentarily mimicking. He shakes his head— “Why would I be mad? Oscar is, like, the only driver I’d want you to date.”
You raise an eyebrow.
“I mean, the others are all nice, don’t get me wrong,” he clarifies. “I’m sure they’re all very good partners, and I bet Lando would be an amazing boyfriend. Probably. But I know Oscar. I trust him more than I trust the others because I know for a fact that he’s a genuinely good guy. That first year that we met him, he asked me what your favorite color was to make sure his mom knit you a hat that you would like.”
“That was years ago, Logan…” you trail off.
He shrugs. “So? It’s not like he’s changed that much. When we were still at Prema, and you went through that vegetarian phase, I caught him once looking up restaurants that have vegetarian options so that you could eat with us when we went out to celebrate.”
You glance down, avoiding Logan’s eyes. Picking at a loose thread at the bottom of your shirt, you say, “That was still years ago.”
“What about all the flirting in the comments,” he asks.
You shrug. You’re not even sure yourself. The way Sophia and Lando had explained things to you, it had certainly seemed like flirting, but the lack of his presence on your posts as of late has made you reconsider your initial beliefs and now you’re not sure what to think.
Realistically, all of this could probably be solved if you just texted him and asked— womaned up, as Sophia would say, and confronted him about your feelings. But there’s still that underlying fear of rejection, and you would never be able to live down the mortification if you did something so bold and had your confidence thrown back in your face.
“So you’re just gonna play pretend with Lando and hope Oscar gets jealous and does something about it?” He sounds genuinely confused. “Isn’t that… mean?”
“That’s what I said!” You exclaim, burying your head in your hands with an exasperated groan. “But Lando and Sophia are so adamant that it’ll work, and they have more relationship experience than I do. I don’t wanna manipulate him at all, but I don’t know what else to do to get his attention again other than talking with him, and I think I might actually throw myself into the ocean if I have to do that.”
Logan’s face scrunches up, “‘Again?’”
You purse your lips and awkwardly shrug as if that’s a good enough answer, but his silent stare persists, so you heave a sigh and fall backward against your pillows, glaring miserably up at your ceiling. “We kissed. Once. In Bahrain.”
He stands from your bed suddenly, pulling your gaze back onto him. His hands are on his hips, his brows are still furrowed and his mouth is still turned downward ever so slightly, but he looks less upset and more determined than anything.
“I’m gonna go get cleaned up. Be ready in thirty minutes,” he says. “We’re going out.”
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logansargeant sometimes it’s just you and your sister against the world, and sometimes that means last-minute trips to the beach to remind yourself that it isn’t all that bad
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yourusername you didn’t really give me much choice tbh 🙄
↳ logansargeant yea ok well someone in this family has to have a sense of spontaneity 🙄
user wholesome sibling content is what’s keeping me going fr
user i’m so happy we’ll be getting more of y/n in the paddock in 2024!! 💙💙💙
landonorris is twin telepathy real?
↳ logansargeant totally
↳ landonorris you’re messing with me no it’s not
↳ yourusername it absolutely is that’s why me and logan are always on the same page
↳ landonorris fuck that’s so cool
user i’m ugly crying the fact that they’re twins makes them built-in best friends i can’t do this rn 😭😭
user the sargeant twins are keeping us fed this winter break
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yourusername sometimes self-care is sunsets and petty gossiping with your brother
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logansargeant emphasis on the petty
↳ yourusername obviously
user girl idk how you can stand how cold the water is rn
↳ user i mean they kinda grew up in europe so maybe they’re used to it
user i wish i had a brother to gossip with 😫😫
user i NEED to know who they talk shit about PLS
alex_albon hopefully the east coast is having better weather than the west coast 🥲
↳ yourusername sunny skies as far as the eye can see 😌
user I’M REALLY WATCHING THESE TWO LIVE MY DREAM RN
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oscarpiastri ☀️.
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━━ tags: @f1-is-lovely-33 @chasing-liberosis @405rry @aquangxl
━━ a/n: we're going places! i'm very excited for what's in store with the next part! beyond that, though, i am seriously so thankful for how nice everyone has been with this. the reception was so much nicer than i ever could've anticipated, and i'm very excited to keep writing more!
#formula 1#formula one#f1#formula 1 imagine#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#formula 1 x reader#oscar piastri#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri imagine#social media au#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#logan sargeant#alex albon#lando norris
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