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#of course this has the potential to blow up in their face and attract more ghost hunters to study the ''''activity'''''
chipistrate · 7 months
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Welcome to the Grand Opening of Freddy Fazbears Balloon Circus!
After an array of previous undisclosed incidents at the Mega Pizzaplex, ending with the sudden collapsing of the building due to an unexpected earthquake, Fazbear Enterprise has demolished the old mall and rebuilt a new and improved carnival on the property! But just because the attractions above ground have been overhauled, doesn't mean the secrets beneath the surface have magically disappeared.
Reblogs appreciated!
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MANY more rambles about this AU under the cut: would much appreciate if you read them, but there's no obligations!
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EVERYTHING HERE IS SUBJECT TO CHANGE!! This AU has just been pieced together by my insane ramblings to my friend over the past few days, so everything in it's early stages of development, and this post is being written VERY late while I'm very sleep deprived and just trying to finish it in time to schedule it! If some things are a bit weird or inconsistent then please keep that in mind! Thank you! :D
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Gregory, Vanessa, and Freddy all return to the now renovated lot where the Pizzaplex once stood, having been called back two years after their last failed visit too save a long lost friend, too repair their old creation known at the M.X.E.S after it was suddenly and unexplainably shut down again. Upon entering the new-ish carnival, they'll quickly find it hard to safely look for the entrance to the layers below as the friendly mascot suits above chase after them for being unwanted guests.
Above ground, they're hunted by the mascots- new suits built for both performers and endoskeletons to be able to wear. This night, controlled by corrupted endoskeletons, they've been ordered to chase after the intruders by someone lurking below the carnivals ground. As well as finding the littler animatronics, known as Balloon Babies, to be quite the inconvenience.
Below ground, they're hunted by the old Glamrocks, still functional after all this time, and now under a new threats command that's also trying to keep the 3 star family from reaching M.X.E.S; Vannie. Aka, Cassie. Still here in the ruins of it all, waiting for the her perfect moment to lure the family back in and get her revenge for what they did to her all those years ago.
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The mascots are the new faces of the Freddy Fazbears Balloon Circus, their costumes built to be worn by both endoskeletons and actors- but in a safer way than the springlock suits. The actors are used during the day for greeting and interacting with guests, putting on performances, etc etc. While the endoskeletons are used at night as a replacement for security guards and STAFF bots, kindly, but forcefully, escorting any intruders off the premises. Under Vannie's control they, of course, are much less kind and gentle with how they "escort" the 3 star fam out of the carnival.
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Balloon Babies are smaller, almost Helpy-like animatronics in appearance, built to keep lost and lonely children happy and entertained while waiting for their guardian to arrive. They can't speak, but they can play song, games, sound effects, blow up balloons with their fingertips, etc etc. They found Gregory after he had been forcefully split up from Vanessa and Freddy by the mascots, and upon the family reuniting, the Balloon Babies more annoying feature kicked in: The Emergency Alert System. Whenever a child they are playing with is approached by an odd looking adult or other figure that seems like they could be a potential threat to the child's safety, whether that be a kidnapper, unfit guardian, bully, etc. the Balloon Babies will use their emergency alert system to call one of the mascots over and deal with the threat, kindly guiding the threat away and bringing the kid to a safer area away from potential danger where they can stay with staff until a proper guardian arrives. The Balloon Babies had decided in their time with Gregory that Vanessa and Freddy were unfit guardians for leaving Gregory scared and alone this late at night, and any time Vanessa and/or Freddy is nearby, their alert system will sound off and call a mascot to their location. The problem, other than the obvious, is that the Balloon Babies are fixated on Gregory. They will always be attracted to him and find their way back to him no matter what, with the only exception being when he's under ground. Which means that, until they can find a way to deactivate or otherwise get rid of these guys, Gregory is forced to be split up from Vanessa and Freddy above ground, and regroup underground.
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The only exception is Goldie, a soft yellow version of the Freddy Balloon Baby that doesn't follow the others. Goldie is the only one of the Balloon Babies that can go underground, Vannie specifically programming him to be able to do so. He follows Vannie around and provides her with much needed company, being her only real friend down here besides Roxy. Later on, Gregory will find Goldie, but instead of calling for the mascots whenever Vanessa is near, he'll send out a signal to distract the other Balloon Babies away from Gregory so they won't call for the mascots or overwhelm him. Goldie can tell that Vanessa and Freddy are fit guardians that love Gregory very much, and can also tell that they're afraid of the mascots, though he can't compute why- it's his job to make sure that kids and their families are safe, so he's doing his best to ensure their safety however he can. Later on, Vannie will come looking for her friend after a long period of time of him being away and find him with the 3 star family, causing more conflict between the two parties that Goldie can't understand- Cassie and Gregory are supposed to be friends, aren't they? That's what Cassie said. Friends aren't supposed to fight each other, they're supposed to protect each other. That's what Goldie believes, at least.
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Random trivia;
-Gregory, Freddy, and Vanessa have been living together for about 3 years now. 1 year by the time of Ruin, and 2 years after the fact leading up to Balloon Circus.
-Cassie has been gaslit into thinking that all the stuff Dr. Rabbit did was actually Gregory himself with no outside influence, only fueling her want for revenge, not only for the elevator incident, but everyone he hurt. This will affect Gregory greatly(he has not 100% recovered and this Does Not Help).
-Cassie still doesn't fully trust the Mimic, despite being under its influence. She let the M.X.E.S stay up after the 3 star family put it back up after Ruin despite Mimic's demands for her to shut it down again, assuring him it was "part of her plan". She wasn't entirely lying, shutting down the M.X.E.S was how she wanted to lure the family back, but she'd be lying if she said it wasn't also partially because she wanted to keep "that old endo" sealed away. He's not completely free from fault either.
-Gregory and Vanessa both have chips implanted in their heads, it's how Dr. Rabbit and Vanny took over way back when. Those same chips gave them VR vision, but the chips have since been "domesticated" and can't go full VR mode anymore. Despite this fact, they do still have a few side effects of the VR vision, such as some walls and objects simply not existing, despite them looking perfectly normal and real. They can phase through them without trouble, and this helps them navigate the Balloon Circus, becauseeeeeee;
-Cassie was there during the construction of the circus and set up VR walls in certain spaces to help her hide out and travel around undetected, even during the day. The 3 star family can also use these now as an easier way of navigating through the circus, but also as a way to hide from the mascots and even sometimes the Balloon Babies.
-The entrance to the underground levels is behind a VR wall, but it's one set up by the construction workers so the patrons wouldn't notice it. The reason an intentional opening is there is because the new entrance is now used as a dumping ground for stuff from random items from the ruins of the Pizzaplex to unused stuff from the circus to anything the employees with access to the area want to throw in there. It's how the ruined Glamrocks ended up there.
-The Glamrocks were being slowly reintroduced to the public, the biggest attraction so far being 'Chica of the Sea', a tent for the underwater hologram show of a prerendered mermaid Glamrock Chica that would swim around, wave at guests, and do a few preset moves that employees could turn on whenever. There's hints of them wanting to reintroduce the others as well that haven't been shown off to the public yet, with the new roles being; Glam Freddy and Bonnie are the co-ringmasters of the main tent where the mascots performances are held, making sure everything runs smoothly. Roxanne is the mascots and glamrocks make up artist, as well as offering to do make up/face paint for any patrons that came by her tent (for a price, of course). And Monty would roam around the circus grounds as a strongman showing off his incredible strength. He also has a tent for this, but he was mostly supposed to roam around and sometimes try and make people swing by his tent, mostly so they would buy his merch.
-Chica being the first to be reintroduced has an effect on her character below ground, with her hearing the news and trying her best to dress herself up in whatever scraps she could find to look like her mermaid counterpart, practicing her singing and dancing despite her condition so she could prove that she could be just as good as the hologram if she just got a few repairs.
-Roxanne is headless, having lost her head in her tussle with the Mimic. But she still has control of both her body and head, carrying around her decapitated head in her arms.
-Vannie/Cassie cares about Goldie soso much that's her new bestie<33 Friendship ended with Gregory, Goldie is new best friend<3 (I'm so sorry Gregory)
-Vannie is also known as Vengeful Vannie, but usually shortened to just 'Vannie'. A callback to the "Vengeful Spirit" aka Cassidy, because I think the parallels between the two are neat<3 (THIS MEANS NOTHING LORE WISE IT'S JUST A NAMING THING.)
-Some of the stuff at Balloon Circus was bought from the carnival mentioned to be across the street from the Pizzaplex in the TFTPP epilogues, and rebranded to fit with the new Fazbear theming
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I wanna talk more about these guys later- not sure what else exactly to do with them, but if anybody has any questions then feel free to send 'em to my inbox! I'll be more than happy to reply to the best of my abilities<3
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wardenparker · 1 month
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Congratulations on the incredible milestone Connie!!! You are amazing ✨ I would love to request -“Put me down!” With either Dave York or Oberyn Martell or Javier Peña please 🥰
Oberyn Martell. 1,319 words. "Put me down!" (Warnings: mentions of sex work, arguing as foreplay) Co-written with @absurdthirst
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"Put me down!" Beating on his back does you no good as the damnably stubborn and terribly broad man has you thrown over his shoulder on his way through the halls of the palace. The whole morning was an uproar, then this presentation at the afternoon meal and suddenly you’re being carried off by the prince.
Oberyn chuckles and reaches up with the hand not banded around the back of your knees and smacks your ass sharply, pleased that you are no longer wearing the sufferable undergarments that you had on when you arrived. "When you are in my bed, where you belong." He tells you, after your screech of surprises bounces off the stone walls.
“I can walk, dammit!” There’s no guarantee that you’ll walk in the direction he wants you to, of course. But you do have working legs and this whole charade is very akin to stealing a maiden off of a battlefield.
He caresses your ass and chuckles again. “But I would prefer to know you will be in my bed, Dove.” He coos, smirking to himself when you wiggle against his palm.
“Then you ought to have asked,” you hiss, doing your very best to get out of his grip even knowing you’ll fall to the floor when you do. “Rather than commanding.”
“I do not ask.” He reminds you, his tone light and playful. “You should know that by now.”
He usually does not need to ask. You know that. The prince is handsome, charming, and seductive in innumerable ways. Typically, all he has to do is smile and all potential lovers melt. It isn’t that you don’t find Prince Oberyn attractive — after all you have eyes — it’s that you don’t take well to having your life decided for you. “Then you’re a brute,” you decide with finality.
Oberyn hisses, annoyance making him quicken his steps until he is bursting through the door of his large chambers and dumping you in the middle of a bed large enough to hold several grown men. “Only when fighting, my salty Dove.”
“Why me?” It is a demand of your own, as you struggle to maintain any kind of dignity while being thrown backward and bouncing in a highly unbecoming way.
“You would rather be at the whorehouse your father was going to sell you to?” Oberyn snorts as he stares down at you. “I assure you; they would not be a kind as I am.”
“The—what?” Your eyes blow wide, mouth falling open in horror as you stare up at him. This is the first you’re hearing of any whorehouse and you can feel all the blood drain from your face from the shock.
Oberyn tilts his head, sure that you had been made aware of the circumstances of your arrival to his household. “Your father could not cover his debts.” He informs you. “He was at the whorehouse in Braavos, attempting to sell you to them, sight unseen.” He shrugs. “I paid for you instead.”
“You…” There is not, unfortunately, any doubt in your mind that he is telling the truth. Your father is an insensitive man who outlived his wife and was burdened with many children. As the youngest girl, you are essentially useless to him. A fact that you have been told many times before. Too high born to be able to find work but low enough that the absence of a dowry means you will never be married, apparently this is the solution that your horrible father decided on instead. To sell his daughter for her body. Your mother would be absolutely horrified. “I hope you did not overpay.” Is what you say finally, when you can shake off the cloud of disbelief and dismay.
“I have yet to determine the value of the purchase.” He is joking, not liking the look of horror and sorrow on your face. “You will not be mistreated. Or forced.” He adds. “I do not enjoy fighting and fucking at the same time.”
“That makes you more civilized than most men,” you huff, sitting up on the large mattress and trying to get a hold of your composure. “Even if you do purchase and transport women like a side of beef.”
Oberyn snorts and shakes his head, admiring your spirit. “You will do fine here.” He predicts. “Though you should wear less.” He hums. “Sunspear is hotter than your province.”
Of course he wants you to wear less. That would have made you laugh if you weren’t so distraught. Instead you swallow your pride for a mere few seconds and look up at the prince. “What will you do with me if I refuse to come to your bed?”
“Then you will sleep in a very large bed by yourself while I find my pleasure elsewhere.” Oberyn smirks. “Though you will be welcome to join. I know my lover will find you exquisite.”
The second prince of Dorne’s appetite being legendary, you tilt your head at his choice of words. “I was under the impression you never have just one lover.”
“There are lovers and then there is Ellaria.” He explains. “My paramour. Mother to four of my girls.”
“The woman who does not want to be princess.” Nodding slowly, you try to sit up again and end up feeling very off kilter. “I have heard of her.”
“We have others in our bed.” He explains. “She is happy to have others, men and women. Finding pleasure with me and on her own.”
“So you…will not force me?” The idea seems unfathomable, since the prince literally bought and paid for you. But so far he has not lied. That you know of. “Truly?”
“I would kill any man that forced my daughters, if they did not kill him themselves.” He rationalizes. “After I separate his cock from his body.” He shrugs. “Why would I let them believe it is acceptable that I force someone?”
“My father has daughters and look what he did.” Shifting to the edge of the bed, you let your legs hang over and cover them with your skirts while you try to gather your thoughts. “Very well.” After a few long moments of silence, you press out a sigh. “I suppose this is where I live now, so…would you be kind enough to show me to my quarters without hoisting me like a sack of grain?”
“Dove, you are sitting in your chamber.” Oberyn chuckles and gestures around. “Your trunks will be delivered as soon as they arrive. I made your father have all your things packed.”
“But this is your chamber.”
“Very astute, my lovely girl.” He winks at you and strolls over to a bowl full of nuts and berries. “I will not force you to take my cock, but you will stay here and become close with me and my paramour.”
“I will have no privacy?” A very well-appointed prison, it sounds like. Although you cannot complain about the view.
“You wish to sleep elsewhere?” He asks, surprised that you would. Most would be thrilled to share a chamber with him.
Realizing from his surprise that you might be the first proposed lover to ever ask for such a thing, you sink into yourself a little. “I simply wish to have a choice,” you tell him honestly.
“Sleep wherever you choose.” Oberyn shrugs after a moment and pops another mouthful of nuts into his mouth. “It does not matter to me.”
“In that case?” For the first time since this all began, you feel yourself begin to relax slightly. “This may not be such an arduous arrangement for either of us after all.”
Oberyn lifts and brow and smirks, aware – even if you aren’t – that you will fall into his bed on your own accord within the week. He doesn’t voice that, just chews on his snack and admires the beauty of the woman he had bought.
______
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creative-crybaby · 1 year
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Fly on the Wall
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PAIRING: yan!timeskip!Sakusa Kiyoomi x fem!reader
GENRE: smut | dark content (18+)
Minors DNI
TAGS + WARNINGS: yandere themes, noncon, stalking, somnophilia, semi-public masturbation (m), nipple play, fingering (with leather gloves), dacryphilia, cum eating, creampie, size kink, breaking and entering, panty stealing, basically Sakusa is a perv
Let me know if I missed anything.
WORD COUNT: 8.7k
SUMMARY: The new Black Jackal’s manager catches Sakusa’s eye. Unfortunately, whatever distance, physical or otherwise, is between you two, is too far for his liking. All characters are 18+
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Not meant to be a Christmas gift, but my timing does wonders, I guess :/
© creative-crybaby, do not repost or modify
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The Black Jackals getting a manager didn’t excite him the way it did his teammates. The idea itself didn’t bring him dread, of course, but the knowledge that certain players may get distracted–or worse: rowdier–brought more stress to him than he’d appreciate. 
Bokuto and Hinata were already babbling on to each other about what you might be like, reminiscing their high school days when they both had two managers on their respective teams. Atsumu joined in, whining that Inarizaki wasn’t as lucky to have a girl manager, let alone two attractive ones. He also bet that you’d be cute—Sakusa could only roll his eyes at the exchange.
You carried yourself with a grace often unfound in volleyball when meeting the team, offering a polite smile as you introduced yourself. Even when bombarded with questions from the boisterous ones (you know the ones), you didn’t falter, even assuring Meian that you didn’t mind the energy: “It’s nice to know I’ll be supporting a passionate team.”
Pretty, Sakusa thinks. You didn’t blow him away, but it was enough for him to acknowledge upon first laying eyes on you. Even he found himself momentarily frozen when you two made brief eye contact. 
Regardless, you’re not here for a modelling contract; you’re here to help the team grow to its full potential. The wing spiker may not be praying for your downfall, but he certainly isn’t going to celebrate your arrival too soon, either. 
Anyone can refill water bottles and hand out clean towels to sweaty giants. The same goes for taking notes on their progress, especially since you should know how volleyball works. From what Sakusa has observed, you do more than well in that department, too, always ready to correct someone’s form or have a report prepared for Meian in no time. You’re organized, punctual; it helps that you also sprinkle in some encouraging words when necessary. (Certain members are more than happy to gain that praise, which means more headaches on the ravenette’s end.)
It doesn’t take long for you to get him to accept you into the team—in his own way. He doesn’t avoid you like the plague, per se; he merely never saw any reason to put in as much effort to get to know you the way someone like Bokuto or Atsumu would. He was just glad to have one more person to give him some proper feedback. 
That distance Sakusa created is seemingly one-sided. There’s no special occasion, either: it was after a practice that partook a few days after a game against the Tachibana Red Falcons. A close match where the Black Jackals managed to pull through, though that wasn’t precisely what consumed the wing spiker’s thoughts at the time. You handed him a neatly folded towel during the athletes’ break, and he nods his thanks. You stay before him, and he peers up at you curiously after wiping his face. Stretching your hand to him, you carry a mini hand sanitizer pack. Nothing special: it’s a standard bottle in a dark red and attachable case. 
“Noticed you weren’t a fan of the gifts from some of your fans and would look grossed out when a kid would touch you,” you explain, offering a small smile. “Hope you don’t already have one of these. This was the only normal-looking one I could find. Wasn’t sure how you’d feel about having a giraffe case dangling from your bag.”
You offer a sheepish laugh that Sakusa would refuse to admit is something he’d want to hear again. Not wanting to leave you hanging any longer than he already has, he takes your gift, eventually muttering his thanks. 
It’s like a boy clinging onto that one compliment he got a few years back because it’s all he received. A rational voice in his head dismisses your observation as something someone on the team probably mentioned to you—maybe Atsumu made a joke about him being a germaphobe, and you took it seriously. 
Still, that’s not a possibility the wing spiker wants to entertain. Not as he goes on with the rest of practice, not when he’s in the changeroom, not when he’s attaching that case to his gym bag, not when he gets home, and certainly not when he goes to bed that night. A small gesture, one probably wouldn’t overthink, lingers in his thoughts until Occasion #2 appears. 
Coming back from an away game is one of the few opportunities the volleyball players get to recharge. After packing everything into the bus, each member sits in their unassigned-assigned seat. Or, at least, most of them would. Some chose to sit wherever it was convenient for them: they wanted to carry on their conversation with one of their teammates or maybe get some shut-eye. Sakusa was the latter, opting for a window seat far away from his boisterous colleagues as possible. Ready to close his eyes, he only got a few seconds of relaxation before he sensed some shifting next to him. With furrowed brows, he opens his eyes, ready to tell Atsumu off (let’s be honest, it’s always Atsumu), only to find you making yourself comfortable in the spot next to his instead. 
You turn to him somewhat sheepishly. “Hope you don’t mind. I wanted to get some rest, and you’re pretty quiet, so I figured having you as my seating buddy was my best shot.”
You don’t say anything afterwards, waiting for him to tell you to leave him alone. To his surprise (and yours, he’s sure), the wing spiker mumbles a stoic “Go ahead,” his eyes trailing towards the window as he readjusts his mask. Even with his gaze no longer on you, he could hear the smile in your voice as you thank him. 
For the next several hours, Sakusa remained awake, thinking about everything and nothing all at once as he’d glance over to your sleeping form every few minutes. Even people like Bokuto and Hinata lost enough energy to fall asleep, but the ravenette didn’t notice. If anything, his entire world dissolved into nothingness as soon as your frame unconsciously leaned on his shoulder. His whole body froze, but surprisingly, not out of disgust. Awkward, perhaps, but he didn’t feel the need to wake you up, let alone push you away. 
His senses heightened. With you so much closer, his eyes scanned every detail your face had to offer, every reaction you had in your sleep, from stirring after hitting a speedbump to sighing whenever Saksua dared to take a breath too deep. Speaking of breathing, even with yours being so shallow, he can hear the steady rhythm loud and clear, despite Bokuto’s snoring somewhere in the distance. Your scent attacked his nose, even with the mask shielding most of his face, and he can at least admit to himself that it was refreshing to smell something that wasn’t a bunch of sweaty athletes. It’s just your head on his shoulder, but the ravenette felt you burning your mark into his skin, one he didn’t ever want to wash off. Every sense except for taste—
A speed bump. The last thought retreated as fast as it invaded. The remaining hour and a half to return home flew by with his guilt as a distraction. Even when Atsumu woke up and teased the wing spiker for trying to get close to you, Sakusa didn’t feel the need to reply. He merely looked down at your still-sleeping form for several seconds more before eventually trying to wake you up. He’d rather he didn’t, but something about others seeing you in such a vulnerable state irked him in a way he can only describe as filthy. No amount of water and hand soap can scrub away that dirt, but as soon as your eyes opened and met his before anyone else’s, that itch got scratched. He didn’t register your profuse apologies until a couple of other teammates decided to join in on the teasing, and suddenly Sakusa found his voice. 
“It’s fine.”
But it wasn’t fine. And it still isn’t. Maybe you forgot about it or saw that moment as a funny story to share over drinks with friends, but it’s different for the wing spiker. He knows it shouldn’t be, yet here he is, replaying every minor interaction between the two of you. There was a reason for him keeping his distance from you when you first started: you both stick to your tasks during practice and games, only interacting when progress and strategy are the focus. Otherwise, the athlete is back in whatever vacant corner he can find, shrinking his almost 6’’4 frame as much as he can in hopes that he can avoid possible interactions. (And if that means he gets to watch you laugh at something Atsumu said or go over strategy with Meian, then those times in his hiding spot have come with new benefits.)
But he’s not in a corner right now: he’s at Onigiri Miya with his team and EJP Raijin, eyes boring into your frame as his cousin says something he doesn’t quite catch. 
The ravenette hums. “What was that?”
“Your new manager’s pretty cute and all,” Komori starts, not too loudly for others to hear, “but if you keep staring at her, you’re going to look like some creep.” Sakusa’s head snaps to the libero, who sheepishly smiles as he scratches the back of his neck. “I mean, I get that you were never all that good with girls, but even you should know this stuff by now.”
The wing spiker scoffs at his cousin’s joke, opting to take a bite out of his onigiri instead of replying. You’re listening to whatever story the blonde Miya twin has to share, laughing whenever the younger one butts in with commentary to embarrass the former. Now you watch in amusement as the two lookalikes bicker, and it makes Sakusa realize something: besides the few moments he recalls oh-so fondly, you don’t interact with each other much outside of volleyball. 
He glides his thumb across the nori on his food in irritation. The moments shared between you rarely involve anything outside of the sport. For someone as observant as him, the ravenette is almost ashamed he let his very few one-on-one memories of you two distract him from such an obvious (and somewhat embarrassing) fact. 
You’ve probably spent more time with a handful of his other teammates. Sakusa recalls Bokuto and Hinata inviting you to a movie marathon at the latter’s place on your day off, though through all that excitement exchanged between them, all he could do was mutter under his breath about them wasting your time. It probably doesn’t matter whether or not you accepted their offer; they still approached you. 
The same goes for whatever Atsumu says to you that makes you two snicker under your breaths. Inside jokes, Sakusa is sure of it, though it doesn’t make him scoff any less. If anything, his mood grew sour with every interaction you had that wasn’t with him. Another fact he wasn’t aware of until the blonde setter asked him if the stick up his ass was bigger than it used to be. (The wing spiker’s response to the harmless joke needn’t be shared.)
“Just talk to her.” Komori’s voice brings Sakusa back to Onigiri Miya. Staring; again. Lovely. The ravenette faces his cheerful cousin once more, who offers a chuckle. “I’ll even play wingman if you want.”
The quieter of the two finishes his onigiri before getting up from his seat. The libero watches as his relative puts his MSBY jersey on before heading for the exit. “I’m good, thank you.”
The ravenette risks a glance your way once he makes it to the door. You don’t meet his gaze, still occupied with the twins. No surprise there, but that doesn’t stop the disappointment plunging into his chest as he exits the shop.
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That one-sided has seemingly returned since then, though the roles are reversed. Even with the few moments exchanged between you two, Sakusa struggles to pinpoint when he started to care for your attention in the several months you’ve been part of the team. The days when he felt indifferent involved less overthinking and even lesser restless nights; now, he can’t stop nitpicking at whatever detail catches his eye. You styled your hair differently one day; you’re snacking on cheesecake-flavoured Kitkat because it’s your new favourite snack. These notes follow up with nothing on his end except an extra bullet point in his brain’s buzzing list. 
It’s a winter evening when he adds his first crucial fact: your home address. An abyss swallows the sky at what seems to be only half past five. Not a usual time for practice, though nothing that disrupted Sakusa’s schedule. He’s making his way to his car when he sees you standing aside, eyes glued to your phone. A rare sight, though not an unwelcomed one. 
You’re frowning, the wing spiker notices. He’s approaching you, he notices too little too late. You notice him. 
“Oh, Sakusa!” you smile, pocketing your device. “Good work today.” The ravenette doesn’t need his mask to hide his contentment at your praise, though the pride that swells inside him grows challenging to swallow. “Off home to relax?”
His tongue rests between his teeth as he nods, and you hug your coat tighter to your body. His brain screams to carry on a conversation, no matter how small or meaningless, but his eyes seem to do enough as they rake through the parking lot. He’s looking for your car, he realizes, but has no clue as to what it looks like. 
“Had to bus here,” you explain sheepishly. Sakusa watches you from the corner of his eye, internally sighing in relief at your (alleged) mind-reading powers. “My car needs fixing, and with practice taking place later on in the day, finding a bus worked better.” Your gaze trails to the streets only a few meters away, exhaustion making them droop. “Guess my supposed ride is being held back, huh?”
“Let me take you home.” 
Your head snaps in the wing spiker’s direction, whose eyes slightly widen in shock at his proposition. Now he decides to talk. He digs his nails into the strap of his gym bag, jaw clenching as he tries to appear calm as he awaits your response.
Your brows crease ever so slightly. “I wouldn’t want to cause you any trouble.”
Your voice shrinks at your concern. Sakusa imagines you shrinking under his gaze as well. “You never cause me any trouble.”
Not how he would’ve liked to word it, but it’s too late to take it back. You beam at him, offering your thanks and letting him know you owe him as you step closer to his tall frame. He doesn’t flinch away, instead facing the parking lot once more as he chews on his bottom lip under his mask.
The car ride holds silence throughout the fifteen-to-twenty minutes on his end, with you giving the ravenette directions and discussing the team’s progress. He only offers curt nods and soft hums, not that he minds this time; your sunny tone and presence in such a closed space were more than enough for him. Besides, his brain is occupied with carrying your guidance as you get closer to your destination. Because he’s the driver, and you ought to return home safely. It’s been a long day for both of you: you’re exhausted, and you don’t hide this fact as you slump in the passenger seat and sometimes yawn. 
And when you finally tell Sakusa to pull up into your driveway, he can’t help but scan your home with his eyes, wondering which windows expose which room. He sees one with lavender curtains from the interior, and he’s willing to bet that’s your bedroom. 
You thank him, and the thought evaporates. He’s tongue-tied once more; he nods, unlocking the passenger door. Offering one more smile, you exit the car, and the wing spiker’s eyes bore into your frame as you walk up your porch and enter your home. 
He’s backing out of the driveway when he begins to wonder if there is something different he could have done. The small talk was calming, but he found that he wanted more. 
The drive back consists of Sakusa glancing over at where you sat every chance he got. He swallows harshly, fingers tapping impatiently against the steering wheel at a red light. Even with practice done a while ago, he feels hot. His clothes hug him uncomfortably, and it isn’t until his brain entertains the idea of peering down does he understand why. 
He recognizes this street. The ravenette pulls over to a secluded area, quick to unbuckle his seatbelt before throwing his mask off. His chest heaves as he slowly looks down once more as if the first time was just a trick of the lights. 
He’s hard. Being alone with you for less than half an hour is enough to make him fucking hard.
He’s also alone. For a second, he recalls keeping a pack of tissues in the glove compartment. 
He’s also in his car. His home is not too far from yours, he noticed as you gave him directions. 
You were also in his car. The passenger seat pulls Sakusa’s gaze towards it. He’s leaning into where you sat not long ago, and if he focuses hard enough, he can catch a whiff of your perfume.
His cock stirs in his slacks, and the ravenette climbs over the gear shift before his brain can reason with his body. 
The passenger’s seat is still a bit warm, he notices upon making himself comfortable in his new spot. The wing spiker shakily exhales as he unzips his pants with great haste, shimmying them down to his thighs. His pace doesn’t slow down when he gets to his briefs, either, opting to tuck the waistband between his balls and dick’s base to free his shaft of its confinements. Only then does he pause, breathing still trembling as he tries to calm himself. 
There’s not much time. An empty parking lot when he got there, but it won’t stay that way forever. Sakusa spits into his palm, needing some makeshift lube to start slowly stroking himself. The relief has his eyes fluttering closed and lips parting with a sigh. It isn’t long until he feels some precum sliding down from his slit, and he spreads the stickiness to help with his movements. He takes a deep breath through his nose and again catches your scent. 
What if it was your hand pumping his cock instead? It should be. You’d be smiling as you do so, peering up at the wing spiker through your lashes as you ask him how he likes it. Always there to help during practice; how is this any different? You want what’s best for the team, for him. Anything for him—
Sakusa’s choking on a groan as he paints his hand and the glove compartment a creamy white. He doesn’t open his eyes until his high finally descends him back to earth, where he realizes what he’s done. 
He groans, in both exhaustion and disgust from the mess in his car and thoughts. He was a teenager when he lasted this long, though the quantity of his release takes him by surprise. Has he truly been pent up for too long? Did you do this?
Sakusa’s quick to take out that tissue pack. 
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You thank him for the ride home once more the next time you see each other at practice. Other than that, the wing spiker continues to keep his distance. Mainly due to the shame that follows remembering what he’s done after dropping you off, but the one time you two shared eye contact for more than a few seconds when you handed him a towel during a break brought another feeling into the mix: excitement. What for, Sakusa has yet to find out. Or maybe he’s trying to avoid that explanation. Like any minute, you’ll tell him, you know, eyelids heavy as the emphasis tells him more than enough of what you’re talking about. The thought makes his lower stomach churn in an agonizing blender. Then, you’ll pull him into the storage closet, where you’ll—
Say his name. Well, no. Not you. Someone else is saying it. Again and again. 
The ravenette blinks back into the real world, masking his fantasy with a blank slate for a face as he turns to look at whoever could need something from him.
“Oh, so yer awake?” Atsumu. Of course. “Still got some energy in me, and I need t’kill a bit of time. Wanna set fer ya fer a bit.”
The grin the faux blonde offers isn’t reciprocated as Sakusa notices front the corner of his eye some of his teammates entering the changeroom. A part of him wants nothing more than to follow them, the clothes clinging to his body from all the sweat making him internally recoil as he wishes for a shower. He also knows this is an opportunity to improve without you there: as much as he enjoys your presence, you become a distraction as a drawback. 
The wing spiker sighs. “Only for a little bit.”
Atsumu beams at his teammate’s (albeit reluctant) acceptance, already jogging to fetch a ball to begin.
Sakusa finds his focus coming back with every spike he lands on the other side of the court, slowly but surely returning to normal. Another way to release some steam; he tries not to cringe at the memory of the other tactic from the night before. 
The attempt fails as soon as you enter the gym with Meian by your side. The two of you are speaking to each other—about what, the ravenette isn’t sure. He doesn’t get a chance to listen in, anyway.
“Nice kill!” Atsumu chirps, gaining the attention of not just his teammate, but his captain and manager as well. With a final nod, you and Meian go your separate ways; him towards the changeroom and you, the other two athletes. 
“Don’t push yourselves too much, guys,” you chuckle. “You already worked hard during practice. Take the time to relax as well.”
Sakusa can barely give you a nod while the setter grins at you. 
“I’m gonna get cleaned up before we head out, ‘kay?” The wing spiker’s head snaps towards his teammate with a raised brow. Neither you nor the faux-blonde acknowledge his confusion. 
You smile. “Take your time. I’ll just put the net and volleyballs away while you’re at it.”
Atsumu nods before slapping Sakusa’s back and jogging to the changeroom. The ravenette can only look down at a stray ball and pick it up. He remembers enjoying the silence between him and whoever he was with. 
“I’ll help,” he mutters, walking away before he can witness your reaction. It’s ridiculous, like some middle school crush: wanting nothing more than to be close to you, but freezing up as soon as it happens. And he can’t avoid you forever–he doesn’t want to–because you eventually meet him at the ball cart, dropping the armful of volleyballs into it. “What was that with Miya earlier?”
His voice finds itself whenever he’d rather it didn’t. He’s curious, sure, but he didn’t need his tone to give away his distaste. He can only hope you dismiss it as Sakusa being Sakusa and nothing more. 
With the small smile you give him, the ravenette is certain he’s safe. “Oh, ‘Tsumu invited me to check out this restaurant that recently opened with him after practice. Heard they made some of my favourites there, and I wanted to try them ASAP.”
Sakusa pretends that you being on a first-name basis with the setter doesn’t bother him. He doesn’t respond to your explanation and remains silent as he brings the net down with your help. The next time he acknowledges you is before he rushes to the changeroom to shower, ignoring Atsumu as they cross paths.
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He’s at the wrong house. 
You’d think one knew the directions to the place they called home, yes? At the very least, have an idea of the area. Yet, it’s only until your driveway makes it to his peripheral vision does the ravenette realize his mistake. And he’s just in time to watch you walk up your porch. 
After another restless night, the wing spiker needed to clear his head. His home brought him no distractions, already too tidy to clean, and his mind continuously drifted away when watching recordings of volleyball matches. With a day to himself, he might as well go around town—there’s a mall not too far from his place, he recalls. It was a better attempt at keeping him occupied, though he couldn’t help it when he passed a perfume shop and wondered what scent was your favourite. Or the neighbouring lingerie store, putting whatever scandalous pieces of lace out on display, giving the athlete’s spiralling mind suggestions on what you would look best in. (White, he concluded before processing.) 
He didn’t want much, nor did he need much. More or less satisfied with his purchases (and dissatisfied with failing distractions), he’s in his car, ready to head back home. 
But he’s not home. Or rather, his house. The latter is a mere building; the former, a sense of comfort. And while there’s guilt bubbling in his chest, witnessing you carry on with your everyday life has him relaxing in his seat.
You were on an errand run, Sakusa observes. Groceries, from what he sees. What would you be making for dinner tonight? He’s too far away to catch what exactly is in your bags. The weather’s fallen to a frigid slumber—stew, perhaps? Or maybe you’ll make some umeboshi—those appeared to be your favourite whenever the team stopped by at Onigiri Miya. He and his teammates have had the opportunity to try some of your cooking firsthand; the ravenette is positive whatever you make will be just as delicious.
Then he remembers yesterday’s interaction, and his grip on the steering wheel tightens. Where did you two go? And when did Atsumu get so comfortable with you to take you out? You seemed content and—
And getting angry during this opportunity won’t do him any good. Surprised, Sakusa manages to calm down a little, opting to distract himself with other scenarios.
What could you two eat together? What would you serve him? He lets his thoughts waltz. The two of you share a meal after a long practice, or maybe you cook together on your day off. He’s seen a few romance movies in his life; he can imagine hugging you from behind as you prepared the food, him nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck as you both talked about whatever was on your mind. The conversation would continue as the two of you ate at the dinner table, his hand itching to find yours across from him. 
And for dessert, he’d have you sitting on the kitchen counter with your legs wide open as he ravaged what’s in between them, your hands clawing at his dark curls as his greed controls his tongue. Or, maybe you’re feeling extra generous and decide to help him relax after a tiring practice, lowering to your knees to take every inch of his—
You’re struggling to open your front door. Too many bags in your hands—the wing spiker has half a mind to get out of the car and help you. As crazy as you drive him, he still has some sense to remind him that whatever excuse he has to be in your neighbourhood won’t be convincing, even from him. And with the evergrowing tightness in his pants, he has another problem he can’t hide. Worse, he doesn’t feel as bad as he used to anymore.
You finally manage to get inside, and the athlete starts the engine to find a secluded area once again.
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Sakusa has to refrain from spiking the ball at the faux-blonde’s face in the following practice. A match among teammates, and noticing the setter’s little pep in his step upon entering the gym that morning had the ravenette glaring hard. A part of him was relieved being on Atsumu’s opposing team, doubting he could work alongside him for the day. 
For now, the wing spiker aims his spikes at the older Miya twin. Anyone could view the action as part of his strategy; aiming for the setter to prevent them from setting is an old trick in the book, but still in the book. 
“Damn it, Omi!” Atsumu exclaims in frustration after not properly receiving Sakusa’s spike. “Quit pickin’ on me! Ma arms are gonna fall off!”
A twinge of satisfaction plucks at the ravenette’s chest from the outcry, though he masks it with a huff before walking back to his position. His eyes automatically make their way to your form on a bench, keeping track of the points while scribbling some notes whenever possible. You don’t catch his gaze, seemingly occupied with whatever’s on your clipboard. The lack of attention makes Sakusa frown, as he had hoped you’d see him on his little winning streak. 
It doesn’t stop him. If anything, it adds fuel to the fire, the flicker of pride from before blooming into something dangerous. 
His plan doesn’t change: Atsumu will remain his target until he decides otherwise. The next time he’s given a chance to spike, his eyes make the mistake of gluing themselves to his victim. Barnes quickly steps in front of the faux-blonde’s spot, flinching from the impact but still blocking the ball perfectly. 
It’s just one point, one that he can easily take back. Still, Sakusa can’t help but aim his glare at the setter on the other side of the net, something that doesn’t go unnoticed. A hand lands on the wing spiker’s shoulder, snapping him out of his spiralling daze. 
“Take a seat, Sakusa.” Meian’s expression appears relaxed, though there’s a rough edge to his tone telling him it’s not a suggestion.
The bench you’re sitting on is opposite his team’s side of the court. Had that not been the case, the ravenette would try to take the opportunity to sit with you, even if words wouldn’t be exchanged. Instead, he settles onto a bench too far from you for his liking. Even if he were to try and take a peek at you, players from the other team block you from his vision, what with their constant moving. 
He’s observing their movements; anyone can assume that. Sakusa can no longer remember the time he’d do something like that unless he was watching videos of matches at home. If he’s not keeping the ball in the air on his side of the court, then he’s scavenging for a chance to even be reminded of your existence: you handing the athletes water and towels, the captain calling your name to gain your attention. Anything will do. So no matter the frustration that comes with the package, he’ll find a way to catch you. 
It isn’t until he watches you rise from the bench does Sakusa realize that practice is done for the day. He didn’t notice his teammates walking away from the court and giving him a clearer view of your frame; he was glad he could see you at all. His posture straightens as he watches you approach Atsumu, and his hands ball into fists when you rest your hand on the faux-blonde’s arm. Whatever you two may be discussing, the ravenette can only assume it has to do with his teammate being on the receiving end of his pent-up aggression. 
Your conversation ends short and sweet, with you walking towards the storage closet. Sakusa’s only half-listening to his captain when he asks if everything is okay with him. Meian is offered an unenthusiastic response of “Everything is fine” before the younger athlete stalks away.
You’re struggling to roll out the ball cart from its spot when the wing spiker enters the storage closet. He doesn’t hesitate to approach you from behind and grip the handle about an inch away from your hold. You gasp, jolting back slightly before turning your head to face the brooding ravenette. 
“You startled me, Sakusa,” you sigh, clutching your chest. “Is there something I can help you with?”
Always so eager to please, aren’t you? The wing spiker has to refrain from smirking at the thought. 
Still, he ignores your question. “The wheels on this cart have been acting up lately.” With newfound confidence, he places his free hand on your shoulder to gently pull you out of the way for him to yank the cart. It jerks out of its place with a loud screech, and you wince. “You just need to give it a tug. Until it’s fixed, anyway.”
Sakusa looks down at the cart upon realizing this is probably the most words he’s spoken to you without having you carry the conversation. 
You grip the handle after a few seconds of silence. Your voice, suddenly meek, shakes as you thank him. He’s blocking your way; nothing you need to point out to him, but your silence says plenty. His feet stay planted on the ground, and your loss of confidence makes his cock stir in his pants. 
“You were pretty tough out there earlier,” you point out. The wing spiker knows you purposefully left out who he was giving a hard time. He also knows, based on your concerned tone, that you’re asking him for an explanation. 
You aren’t offered a response. Sakusa only takes his time turning his head to peer at you, the darkness of the storage closet and the way his black curls frame his stoic face giving him an intimidating aura. But what has you subconsciously shrinking into your corner are the onyx caskets for irises boring into your frame, beckoning you to crawl into the empty pools of demise. 
“I have to be if I want to win,” is his response before finally leaving you be, exiting the changeroom with the same intensity you witnessed mere seconds ago.
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He’s back: closer. 
Parking his car nearby doesn’t cut it for him anymore. Sakusa doesn’t think it ever did. With the amount of patience lost for every practice with his team, the initial distance was just a formality. 
Now, his car hides nearby as he approaches your home, giving a quick yet thorough peek over his shoulder to make sure he’s in the clear.
It took him the third visit to learn where you hid your spare key, having seen you take it out from under the cushion of a little bench on your porch. And luckily for him, it hasn’t left its spot. 
Even with his morals flying out the window, the wing spiker neatly places his coat, scarf and boots aside after removing them, then ponders over his leather gloves until ultimately deciding to keep them on. He eyes the spare slippers by the entrance before concluding they won’t be necessary (for this visit, anyway).
Based on the house’s layout, it shouldn’t take long for Sakusa to find your bedroom. But it’s not going anywhere, and neither are you. Why not get to know you via your home?
It’s a small house: one story and cozy. The ravenette wonders how you afforded it, even with your salary. With how minimal the style appears, he can only assume most of your income went into the building itself. Would it be too much for him to buy you things for the interior? As a gift, perhaps when the occasion calls for it. 
Then again, is he really in any position to ask himself about doing too much? He almost chuckles at the thought. 
A quick yet thorough tour of your home gives him a more detailed layout, though he’d love to stay longer had he had the time. Or better yet, your company. As satisfied as he was to find your living room and kitchen tidy–and by his standards no less–he’s not done getting to know you. 
People don’t really need an exploration of the bathroom. It’s as clean as any other room, though it’s a cast-aside note when his eyes land on your laundry basket. Half full, too. Squatting closer to the dirty pile, a subtle yet musky scent hits his nose. Sakusa almost groans, cock stirring in his slacks; for such a clean freak, he’s never been more excited.
His eyes scan the basket’s contents, eventually landing on flimsy lace. Part of him wishes he wasn’t sporting gloves for the occasion, but he doesn’t let that stop him as he picks up the article of clothing. Underwear, of course it is, and a flattering magenta nonetheless. You wear this to practice? Or are there other times you put it on? Do you have a matching bra? The wing spiker can’t find anything in the basket, though he’s sure–no, he knows–you’d wear it like it was made for you. 
Are you wearing something similar right now?
The ravenette stands from his position, pocketing the lacy undergarment before exiting the bathroom. Consider it a welcoming gift. 
Again, it doesn’t take long for him to find your room. Being in such an intimate location is a different experience compared to looking in as an outsider. Everything is you: the way you organized your shelves and vanity, the colour palette—your scent is more prominent here. Sakusa doesn’t catch his eyes fluttering shut until he distinctly hears shifting. 
To his right, you lay on your mattress, your sheets messily hanging off parts of your body. You’re barely a silhouette in his eyes; the moonlight stalking past the crack between your curtains is the only thing helping the ravenette navigate your room. Parts of the glow highlight a bit of your face, though a shimmer from the light’s reflection teases his peripheral vision. 
You have a bookcase headboard, and on it lays a necklace in its case. Nothing fancy; a golden heart hanging off a thin chain. It’s more the note next to its box that catches the ravenette’s eye:
Thought this would look good on you ;) Hope you like it!
— Tsumu (your favourite setter <3)
If it weren’t for the fact that you’d notice, Sakusa would crumble that note and follow up with the faux-blonde’s neck. When did you get this? He surely would’ve noticed if you received it during practice. 
There’s a good chance the setter gave it to you before or afterwards. The wing spiker’s aware that the two of you spent time together outside of training, though for it to happen enough times that Atsumu found it appropriate to give you a gift as intimate as a heart-shaped necklace has the ravenette glaring at the piece of jewellery. (As open as his teammate may be, Sakusa doubts he’d buy something like that for someone after a single meet-up.)
He hears a sigh: yours. Your body shifts in its spot again, opting to lay on your back. The wing spiker freezes for the slowest seconds his alarmed brain can count, only to relax once you stay in your new spot.
They say an average of eight spiders crawl into your mouth yearly while you sleep. A myth, of course, but maybe that’s what we tell ourselves to ease the paranoia. Maybe, that’s what he is, Sakusa thinks; a spider. Soundless, observant—he’s certainly made himself at home. 
Maybe not, he reconsiders. Most people would carefully trap the eight-legged creature before bringing it outside. Or kill it; no mercy necessary. You have yet to do either. 
Then again, you aren’t like most people. Not in his eyes, anyway. No, his eyes entertain themselves with your every move, and no matter how deep those holes in the side of your head are, you don’t catch his stare. Whatever he may be, he’s always the perfect distance to observe you.
Sakusa’s brain buzzes mindlessly as his hands draw closer to your form, long fingers pinching the hem of your pyjama shirt before lifting the material. No bra: not a surprising observation, what with your nipples poking at the fabric from the cold. Even with how dark it is, the ravenette salivates from the sight, his cock stirring in his pants. He’s grateful for the lack of witnesses, though it’s still embarrassing to be as affected as he is. You’re not even fully nude. Yet.
He waits for a reaction. Other than you moving in your sleep, the wing spiker receives nothing. He exhales through his nose, never thinking that gaining the knowledge about you being a heavy sleeper early on would be an advantage for him. His fingers twitch before slowly landing on your stomach. Again, no reaction; he then lays his palms to join the digits. With a deep and shaky breath, the ravenette glides his hands up your torso until they reach your breasts. 
They feel perfect in his grasp, even with the thick layer of the leather gloves creating that barrier. Your face scrunches when he gives your mounds a light squeeze, though you remain asleep. As deep of a sleeper as you may be, one wrong move could ruin everything. Sakusa gulps, dragging his middle finger to flick at your nipple. A shaky breath from you is enough for him to shift into a more comfortable position on your bed before he continues his ministrations more confidently. 
He’s careful, he assures; eyes flickering from your chest to your face, reading your expressions to discover what you like and making sure you don’t wake up. All the while, the athlete tries to ignore the tightness of his pants, although watching you squirm beneath him because of his touch makes that a challenge. 
“Hnngh….”
It was barely audible, but enough to make the athlete stop everything. You’re still asleep, of course—he’s almost impressed, a bit jealous, even. Countless nights of insomnia on his side because of his fantasies playing on a loop, but yours give you a good night’s rest.
Regardless, the wing spiker gears to earn another reaction like that. Dipping his toes further into the water, he gets a little rougher, tweaking the sensitive buds between his covered fingers. Your back arches in his hold; more than enough confirmation for him. 
Shifting his position once more, Sakusa wraps his lips around one of your nipples, dragging his tongue against it while groping the other breast. You whimper when he begins sucking: a shallow sound, but it travels down to his crotch. He already has to deal with the embarrassment of finishing early because of you; if he cums in his pants without any stimulation, you’ll surely be the death of him.
He can’t rely on you being a deep sleeper forever: the wing spiker must work quickly. Pulling away from your chest, Sakusa brings his attention to the lower half of your body. His hands glide down to your hips, hooking his index fingers past the elastic waistband. He wonders whether he should take his time removing the article of clothing or pull them down in one motion. You help him make a quick decision when your leg accidentally brushes against his hard-on. And while he refrains from letting out a groan, his hands make fast work of harshly tugging your pants to your knees. 
Silence: not a sound from you, not a breath from him. Your thighs clench momentarily out of reflex once the cool air hits the exposed skin. Not fast enough—Sakusa managed to catch a peek at your drooling cunt. And it isn’t until you finally relax again does he exhale with a light shiver from the sight. 
Now, with a clear view, the athlete reaches for his opportunity by swiping some of your essence and bringing that same finger to your clit. Your hips buck into his touch as he rubs slow but tight circles on the pearl, making his brows furrow in concentration and chest swell with pride. It isn’t long until he adds to his pace and slides a finger from his other hand into your sopping hole. Your thighs clench on impulse, a mewl leaving your throat as the air remains stuck in his. His movements are forced to a halt due to your hold, and it takes several seconds for you to settle. Do you enjoy the sturdy material of leather rubbing against your insides? Maybe you’re unaware of the answer, but God, wouldn’t the ravenette love to know.
Dipping his toes in the water is long out of the discussion; if anything, he’s in too deep, the water rising every second he proceeds. He might as well follow the rest of him down, no? Take that final gulp of air before dipping his head in and letting that frozen abyss swallow him.
Sakusa experimentally wiggles his finger inside you and, after gaining no reaction, slides in another. With how wet you already were, it doesn’t take much effort on his part. You gasp, but your eyes stay closed. Even with his morality slipping away each day he sees you, the wing spiker still finds himself surprised (and grateful) that you can sleep through his actions. He wonders how far he can go. 
The longer and deeper he pumps his digits inside you, the more reactions he earns from you. The squelching noises between your legs also become louder, especially with the leather material of his gloves. He’s no longer worried, just curious about what sounds and expressions he can pull out of you. 
A particular response tells him he’s found your sweet spot. With a drawn-out yet breathless wail, you lift your hips off the mattress once the ravenette prods at a certain part inside you. 
Where there is darkness, there is also light, and that’s exactly what could be said to describe the glimmer in his eyes upon discovering this hidden gem of information. He continues his ministrations, watching in fascination and lust as you grind into his touch. 
Meanwhile, his cock is begging to be released from its restraints, throbbing due to the display. Sakusa was hoping to hold out for a bit longer, mapping out your body in ways he hopes no one else has, but along with any logic and morality, his patience flies out the window. 
You whimper when the athlete slides his fingers out; he almost wants to coo, assure you that he’ll make you feel all better. He can’t, of course, so he opts to taste you, lick his digits clean of your slick. He’s certain he almost cums on the spot, your sweetness consuming his tastebuds (as well as a hint of bitter leather) and leaving its mark in his memories. The wing spiker’s eyes roll to the back of his head as he tries to refrain from groaning. 
When his gaze returns to your form, he’s swift with your pants, further sliding them down before doing the same to himself. Having his cock out of its confinements already does plenty for him, but not enough. Sakusa recalls how your cunt squeezed his fingers, practically sucking them in. You were warm, dripping, even with his gloves in the way. And with how eager he is to have you make a mess on his dick, he knows he’s no longer the same person he was before meeting you.
The athlete taps the tip of his cock against your clit a few times, just to watch you squirm, before sliding into your entrance. Only a few inches in, and he already has to dig his teeth into his bottom lip. None of this was a part of his plan—he’s not even sure he had one in the first place; he just needed to see you, feel your presence in some way, shape or form. And the latter is more than he could ever ask for, your insides hugging him just as tight as they did his fingers. The lack of a barrier is the icing on the cake. 
He’s bottomed out before he knows it, and Sakusa doesn’t know where to look: your face contorting from being filled to the brim or your cunt stretching open to accommodate his size. Either one intensifies the swirling of his lower stomach. All he can do for now is play with your clit until you appear to feel better. (And if that means you clench harder around him, then so be it. He’s come this far as is.)
After a few minutes, the wing spiker reels his hips back with a deep breath. His thrusts are gentle, as much of a challenge as it may be to hold back. He bites his bottom lip as he feels you hug every inch of his cock, threatening to milk him for all he’s worth when he’s barely begun. You’re so much better than his hand; no fantasy can compare. 
A few strokes in, and Sakusa’s restraint is thinning. Every time, he thrusts in a bit deeper, a bit faster, a bit harder. You’re quietly moaning between pants, your face twisting from a pained expression to one much lewder. Pretty lips parted with brows both furrowed and raised, you have the ravenette throwing his head back with a silent groan. 
Unfortunately for him, that’s when he catches sight of that damn necklace again. His grip on the sheets next to your head tightens, his thrusts sloppy as his mind races. What made Atsumu think he had the right? Does he think a necklace is all it’ll take to get you? Sakusa drops his head to glare daggers as you continue to mewl and whimper. What do you think is happening right now? Who are you thinking about right now? 
His mind keeps reeling, and the wing spiker fails to notice how he’s taking out his aggression in his thrusts.
Your whimpers grow to pathetic cries, tears forming in the corners of your eyes, and his hold on your sheets move to your wrists on instinct. With the mental spiral and physical force, the ravenette fails to notice your eyes shoot open.
Then, you gasp. “Sakusa!”
He hears the fear in your voice, no doubt. Yet, in a situation like this, with you beneath him, tears streaming down your cheeks as your sobbing and panting mix together, he can’t help but create a more beautiful scenario. You’re begging for him, his cock, needing him to fuck you stupid and fill you up to the brim, the pleasure so overwhelming that your nails are digging into his back, only his shirt shielding his skin from the potential marks. 
The athlete doesn’t think; he slams his lips against yours, his tongue quick to explore your mouth as his release hangs on to the edge. And when your pussy flutters around his dick, creams around it, it’s the push he needs. Hot spurts of cum paint your insides white as Sakusa kisses you harder, his hips stilling. Even as he groans against your mouth, he can hear your choked moans, and he never wants any of this to end. 
But that’s not how it works. Eventually, you both come down from your highs, his cock going soft and out of cum to give you. The wing spiker doesn’t pull out, but it doesn’t stop the white liquid from trying to seep out. It makes him shiver, slowly ending your kiss for you both to catch some air. The string of saliva connected to your lips that follows him as he sits up distracts him; something else to bind you two together. It’s messy, so so so messy. 
He loves it. 
You’re both breathing hard for the next several seconds, your terrified expression not faltering as your body trembles lightly. 
“Wha—How?” you gasp, sob, you’re not sure, and neither is he. He’s only half-listening, still floating on that release and too far away. “Sakusa, how did you get in?”
There they are again: those eyes. Empty pools, yet always full of judgement. Like you’re the crazy one. Tracing the river streams down your face and clumps of shields for lashes, they seemingly do more talking than his mouth. 
Then, Sakusa reaches a hand out to cup your cheek. You flinch, but it doesn’t stop him from wiping a stray tear. Even with your helpless sounds quieting down, the silence isn’t any less deafening. And when his voice, smooth and deep and a little too nonchalant, invades the room, you shiver.
“I was always here.”
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Random Synastry observations: partly based on my personal experience part 2
Mars trine venus: I love this aspect because the (physical) attraction is just there and it can, opposed to most aspects of attraction, grow steadily more powerful overtime. If you neglect it or cut the relationship off, it will not ‘fade’ or result in brooding tension that blows up in your face, it will simply become dormant. It’s always there. This aspect is a bit underrated, because it doesn’t represent the racey combination of most mars and venus aspects. The ideal example of this aspect is an end-game couple in a sitcom. ‘They’ve always been attracted to each other’, ‘they’re a couple now, funny jokes about their sexy time’, ‘they broke up and ~stayed friends but the attraction of course is still there~, still nothing to worry about or upset the plot for~~’ ‘okay one night then for a special episode’ ‘oh goshh what will these non-erratic people do now!!1!’ and then they realise the other was ~the one~ all along and, after an elaborate first two seasons for the audience to warm up to the match, the writers realised the audience was of course shipping them from day one, because the characters are just so compatible and have such good wholesome chemistry it’s too plain to see.
Lilith conjunct ascendant: Personal taste! I like it when someone’s presence and manner of physically existing seems to suit someone’s dark side so much, that that person can’t stop thinking about that someone. Morning noon and night- lilith is like an imprinter here. This aspect can definitely ruin marriages if the man’s lilith tightly conjuncts another woman’s rising. Think lindsey buckingham obsessively brooding over stevie nicks for almost 50 years. On one hand, ascendant can feel not embraced, but as if an interesting, ~dark~ but somehow pleasant liquid is literally ‘taking’ them. On the other hand, if they’re fighting, it will feel like lilith is trying to swallow ascendant in their negative energy. This aspect is especially grim when a man’s lilith conjuncts the woman’s ascendant. In the courting stage, that dynamic is so funny, because the man with the lilith will just be angry at you for no reason and look at you with these intense and protruding eyes, even when they’re not the plutonic type at all. I’m a sag rising, so I know that most guys who are two years older than me (year 2000) have this aspect with me. Without knowing their birth times, I can basically guess their zodiac sign based on how strong I think their lilith is conjuncting my ascendant 😂 you forget about them, go about your ascendant business and then you exchange looks and remember that they’ve ‘remembered’ (👹) you, so to speak. It’s not an aspect that makes the ascendant drawn to lilith (self protection) but more one that makes them take an interest in lilith.
Mars 2nd house: prolonged courting
Mars/venus 12th house or mars/venus in pisces : passive courting
Mars in 7th: passive aggressive courting 😂 no, that depends on the mars sign really, but it’s really the planet of aggression falling into the house of libra, which is the fall-sign of mars. It normally doesn’t matter, because venus x mars always creates a passionate and romantic aspect, but the overlay is really like mars bonking on the seventh house’s door while she’s in her beauty sleep. You have to understand it.. It has enemies to lovers potential that falls into the water because 7th house sees mars as their ideal fantasy and mars already has a crush on the 7th house person 😂
Pluto conjunct ascendant: some sagittarius risings of generation z are always going to have people their age, namely those with more natal plutonic influences, have a ~certain~ kind of attraction towards them in relationship. Their looks and appearance will stir something deep inside the pluto person, and the ascendant person will automatically see pluto as a grounding, dark intensity. It creates a lot of attraction, but if when young and underdeveloped pluto won’t know wether to hate ascendant and think they’re ‘cringe’ (because ascendant basically embodies and confronts them with their intense, darker and secret self. Even worse if ascendant is naturally confident..🤭 ) or be sort of intrigued by them. Girls growing up with this natal aspects easily got hated and called ‘annoying’ by everyone. Imagine them having this aspect with people their age for the rest of their lives 😭 I can do a whole post on natal pluto conjuncting ascendant and the experience of growing up with that 😂
Moon square saturn: there is such a blockade here to actually becoming something. This blockade is almost magical in the sense of how powerful and unmoving it is in itself. Moon and saturn are very unmoving and hearty heavenly bodies in astrology, so it’s understandable. I’m going to tell a story: I’ve had moon square saturn synastry in a way that most people don’t have this aspect: I had this aspect with someone in my student house whose sun was conjuncting my ic, we had a fourth house stellium in both synastry and composite, venus was conjuncting my moon and the rest of our compatibility indicated all sorts of no shame, reading each others minds, lilithane qualities, etc. We also clearly liked each other in whatever way, saw each other as soulmates (vertex conjunct north node people 😭), thought the other attractive, but ‘being together’?? Well, in the first months we just looked each other in the eyes for entire seconds~ like we were the lead characters in a season of Bridgerton and every time we felt some sort of romantic shift (after talking or something) we would literally RUN away 😂 and the courting stage was literally just that; being friends who were ‘moving away’, leaving the room, suddenly ignoring each other, shifting our position, not saying anything.. and bit by bit we became so purely aware of each other and the connection we had. When it went on long enough, we just looked at each other and immediately knew. The tension became worse and worse and the romantic subtext became the elephant in the room for us. Moon square saturn means deep and meaningful chemistry through the harsh nature of the square and the nature of the planets themselves, but of course it didn’t play out as something like venus square mars. Our connection became the elephant in the room, but the tension wasn’t sexual or playful romantic attraction. The tension had themes like karma, responsibility, ‘we should actually be together’, ‘why aren’t we romantically responding to each other’, ‘because we’re both too shy’. I almost felt this annoyance from the moon person. We couldn’t look at each other without immediately knowing and having that heaviness of moon square saturn. So it was kind of awkward, because we didn’t express anything concretely, but we both knew. And only way later we dared to cross the line, after basically being training-wheeling into having our first kiss. This is an aspect that really can’t be rushed in my opinion. It would just make the first date or cuddle etc super awkward. I wouldn’t say it’s a slow burn aspect because there is not really any burning here 😂 nor pining. That isn’t to say that your relationship won’t have any pining and burning (because we did have that) but this aspect doesn’t provide that. It provides a heaviness that makes both people apprehensive and inward about their feelings for each other. Anyway, I’m rambling here~~~ almost forgetting to say that once these people are together, their love is soo pure, and they will most likely never leave. The sense of (emotional) duty and rigidness in your romantic life is too heavy for that. When they break up, it will leave a looong period of heartbreak. @/lilmajorshawty once remarked that she saw this aspect a lot in older widowed couples that refused to ever remarry after their partner had died. Good luck if this happens to be a key aspect in your chart.
Moon in third house: so in theory, this aspect is not very karmic and can almost feel plain, because the third house isn’t seen as a romantic enough placement for the moon to be in. I beg to differ. In my experience, people love their moon third house overlays, including me. Finding a person you can intellectualise your emotions with right off the bat of meeting them, creates a cupido effect for most people. The moon-ness of the moon will bring out and safe-haven the vulnerability in third house’s thoughts and ideas, and draw out the underlying sentiment in their way of thinking. It’s like someone finally sees you! The moon will feel charmed by this level of friendship and openness, understood, seen, having a sense of comfort and communication with the third house person that takes them months to get even with their longtime friends. The house person will love to ‘house’ the moon this way and listening to the moon person open up will be second nature to them. I’ve seen that people can grow really important to each other with this aspect. Think of that one person you can always reconnect with, no matter what. Think of that one person ever that you’ve met with whom small talk actually went genuinely nice and smooth and pleasant, and not so small even.
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kookieswan · 1 year
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Could I request JK and of course the tiger lily? Maybe with some kind of au like aliens or some sort of magic or whatever else suits your fancy? You're really good at unique AUs so please feel free to just go wild :]
Tiger Lily - Passionate Pride
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Jungkook x Reader
Word Count: 700+
Genre: Alien AU. Fluffy, a tiny little bit of angst. Some humor ��
Summary: Never in your life did you think a giant alien man would ask you to run away with him.
Notes: I love a good alien AU tbh, they’re a little hard to come by so I hope this tickled your fancy anon. Also, you’re the sweetest 🌸~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~“Just to the odd human grocery store? Come on, you can’t tell me you don’t want more of that stuff you call pie. I can even carry you if you’re too tired, I’m much stronger than any human and the size of your ankles worry me.” The alien spreads out across your couch, knees hitting either side of it as it noticeably starts to sink into itself. Letting out a sigh, you shake your head for what must be the hundredth time today, plopping yourself onto the chair across from him.
“I still don’t know why I’m harboring a criminal that’s so full of himself… You know we can’t just go out in public like it’s the most normal thing right now, I’m sorry. Maybe when you’re not a wanted man.” Jungkook blinks owlishly, his bright purple eyes shining in the otherwise dim room. It’s his fault you need to keep your curtains shut. As funny as it is to see the giant man pout, you stand your ground and remain silent until he whines.
“Why not? No one would even notice… Well, they might once they see how charming I am, but that’s beside the point. Many people here on earth consider the people of Terazi as ‘ethereal’ I’ve read.” This makes you scoff, another insinuation of how attractive he thinks he is… He is of course, but you don’t need to feed into his ego at all; the way he’s talked about himself in the past few weeks has been enough to tell you that.
“Jungkook, you’re seven feet tall, your eyes glow, your hair is lilac, and you have distinctive markings all over your body. I think someone might notice the giant Terazial man walking down the street next to me and get a little suspicious.” Getting out of your seat, you make your way over to the kitchen to try and figure out something for dinner. If there’s one think you’ve learned about Jungkook, it’s that he can eat and eat and eat. The Terazial springs up and follows you, practically towering overhead as he hovers.
“So you’ve taken notice of my superior physical qualities? You like them?” It’s not quite a whisper but it’s quiet, his voice delicate as he asks. Not thinking too much of it, you open another cupboard and glance at the contents. Peanut butter and spam isn’t going to get you very far…
Turning to face him, you blink at his chest and then crane your head upward. He looks smug, thin lips pulled into a bunny grin as his nose slightly scrunches (something he didn’t understand in the slightest when you first mentioned it). You poke his chest once, the firmness of the muscle still slightly surprising.
“Yes? It’s kind of hard not too when you stick out like a sore thumb. I know there are other aliens on earth but still.” There are many species of aliens on earth now; not just humans. And most can get away with walking around freely, but then again, most didn’t accidentally blow up a portion of a shopping mall.
“You know… There’s a lot more out there. A lot more to see beyond earth. If you were to leave with me, I’d take care of you and we would thrive. I don’t understand human customs very well but-” Leave with him? As in leave earth and potentially never come back? He’s told you stories about his travels, how he’s been all over the galaxy. It’s a romantic idea, and yet-
“I-what-Jungkook-“ He continues on, flailing his arms around as you stare at him with wide eyes. He’s so excited that he doesn’t even realize you’re trying to get a word in.
“I think it would be fun! You’d get to meet my crew! I know they’ve been looking for me, and when I leave, I want to take you with. Just say the word _____.” That’s… A lot. A lot to think about, a lot to process. Would you really be missing much here on earth…? Taking a deep breath, you let the cupboard bang shut and walk past him toward the door. You need time to think.
“… Let’s go to the store. Don’t forget your hat and sunglasses, if you get arrested I’m not bailing you out.”
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delopsia · 7 months
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darling del 💐 let’s say our trio are all home during the month of october and decide to go to one of those walk-thru haunted house attractions: who suggested it? who’s excited? who’s dreading it? who’s dreading it but pretending to be excited?
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👀 A haunted house, you say? 💃🦇 (If you could picture the bat flying around the dancing lady's head, that would be splendid)
I love to believe that Bobby is one of those people who simply don't get scared easily. It's the sort of thing that he's adjusted to over time because one of his sisters went through a huge horror phase, and with only one TV in the house, it was hard to avoid.
But she's rubbed off on him, and though he's desensitized to the genre himself, he loves spooking others. Sneaking up behind Rhett and blowing on the back of his neck to get a rise out of him, jumping out from around the corner and scaring Mickey within an inch of his life.
It happens unintentionally as well because he's a quiet little wallflower who can float in and out of a room without being noticed. He once scared Mav simply by walking into the room and asking him a question. That...nearly got a wrench thrown at his head, but Bob still got a kick out of it.
In the past, Natasha has tied a little bell to him because he kept wandering up behind her without her realizing. Too many times has she turned around and come face to face with a motherfucker who shouldn't have been there. He's spooked his friends so many times that his contact in Jake's phone is Spooky Motherfucker 🦇
So when Bob's on his way home from a deployment, three days earlier than Rhett and Reader are expecting, and sees promotional signs for a haunted house, he gets himself an idea.
Of course, it's only brought up after he deliberately sneaks into the house and jumps on Reader and Rhett while they're cuddling in bed. And in the haze of all the excitement, they all agree to go when it opens next week.
Rhett regrets it immediately.
Because who, in their right mind, goes to a haunted house intentionally? He doesn't get it. Growing up, if you saw something weird on the ranch, you stayed as far away as you could get. You did not actively seek it out. But he's too stubborn to let Bobby and Reader see that he's nervous, so he's pitifully feigning excitement.
He's horrible at it, but he's...he's trying.
Bob, the smug bastard, is the complete opposite. He's stoked. Because in the back of his mind, he knows that the moment the Reader or Rhett gets scared, they're going to cling to him. It's for the same reason he loves turning on a good horror movie. He doesn't even care for the genre these days, but he does care for feeling Rhett scoot a little closer and the Reader hiding their face in his side.
Reader is a mix of emotions, but it's mostly overwritten by curiosity because? Are they finally going to see Bobby get scared? Or is he going to be stone-stiff the whole damn time? Is the house actually scary, or is it meant more for children?
The answer comes when the three clamber out of the car and hear a distant chainsaw.
Rhett very nearly gets back in the car.
Right off the bat, Bob's perfectly fine. Unbothered when someone grabs him in the dark, doesn't jump when a scarecrow pops out from around a corner.
Rhett's sent into a swearing fit when a woman in a bloody wedding dress runs her nails up his arm, and the Reader thinks it's the funniest fucking thing. He winds up having to hold Bob and Reader's hands, not because he's scared, but because he's realized that when someone scares him, his first instinct is to swing... So, to avoid any potential lawsuits, his hands are occupied.
The Reader gives the best reactions out of the three, and Rhett will not let them forget how hard they jumped when a clown jumped out of the bushes. And even though the Reader was just laughing about Rhett swearing like a damn sailor, they're doing it too by the time it's over.
But who would have ever expected for a haunted house to be so damn stuffy? Bob's cheeks are flushed beet red, and all three of them are sweating by the time they stumble down the exit trail.
All of a sudden, someone pops out of the woods while Bob's back is turned and jumps on him.
And he yelps.
He's never hearing the end of it.
But he can't be too upset about it because Rhett and Reader buy him a box of chocolate-covered strawberries, made to look like ghosts, from the gift shop.
And then Rhett finds the caramel apples. The Reader disappears, only to return with a vampire cat plush, and all of a sudden, they've all got a stuffed animal because the cat is going to be lonely otherwise. Rhett has a Frankenstein horse tucked under his arm, and Bob has...somehow found himself with a candy corn plush.
Who would have ever thought that they made those?
Would Bob do it again next year? Absolutely.
Rhett? Absolutely fucking not.
The reader winds up as the tiebreaker.
So will y'all be going again? Or is staying in for a movie night a better option? 🎃
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soleilsogolden · 1 year
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Madonna: a Cultural Icon
There isn't much room for debate when it comes to Madonna's impact on pop culture and society as a whole. Madonna lives up to her “Queen of Pop'' title, and more. She is often praised for the feminist ideologies she voices through her music, and for her efforts in blurring the lines between gender, race, and sexuality in her art. When asked to write a piece on a musician through a culturally-critical lens, I am writing about Madonna with no questions asked. Madonna challenged taboos in and outside of music throughout her career and is recognized for “leaving a mark on every facet of culture” from music to fashion, and even film.  Of course, this sort of carefree spirit attracts criticism, and Madonna was no stranger to controversy. However, Madonna carried her rebellious attitude in spite of any bad press she received, and she continued to express herself and her ideas in the most in-your-face, offensive way possible. Madonna single-handedly transformed pop music, and as a tribute, I’ll reflect on her cultural impact and how her most popular songs from the 1980s challenged the status quo at the time. 
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Imagine it's the 1980s Reagen era: Political Conservatism, the emergence of the  HIV/AIDS epidemic and ongoing LGBTQ+ stigma, a divide between Anti-Sex and Pro-Sex Feminism, oh, and big hair and colorful clothes. The transition from the 1970s to the 1980s brought about a decline in activism. The general social mood reflected a belief that the earlier movements of the previous decades had gone too far (Anti-War Campaign, Women's Liberation, Civil Rights, and Environmental Awareness, just to name a few). The perspective and core values of the Reagen administration, which was characterized by a rejection of 1970s American culture, had direct substantial impacts on American life in the 80s. Reagan won over the support of Religious Conservatives by standing for traditional family values and morals-  ironically, he went on to be the first U.S. president to have been divorced. 
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Reagan remained steadfast in his efforts to uphold conservative ideologies, especially in the discussion of the relationship between men and women, and the role of women in society. He publicly expressed his aversion to feminist activism by opposing the Equal Rights Amendment in 1980 and instead supporting a “Human Life Amendment” which would have banned abortion and several forms of birth control. Reagan's conservative approaches to women’s rights trickled into the views of the average American, serving as a major blow for the feminist movement which lost some momentum at the time. And in the heat of it all, there was Madonna who stood firmly in the studio and created music and a reputation for herself that rallied resistance. 
In the late 2010s, musicologist Eduardo Viñuela in conversation with Radio France Internationale argued that analyzing Madonna was to delve into the evolution of many of the most relevant and significant aspects of society in recent decades. For one, she was the first female artist to make use of the full potential of a music video. She collaborated with some of the top designers and photographers of the time, creating avant-garde cinematography and sexual imagery with inspiration from the underground club culture. Some videos reflect the “Feminist Sex Wars” of the 1980s- a major feminist movement that consisted of a conflict between self-identified feminists who were anti-porn and those who were pro-sex. The collective debates amongst feminists were fueled by disagreements regarding sexuality, pornography, prostitution, erotica, and other sexual matters. From the ingènue newly-wed character she created in “Like a Virgin,” to the red-dressed sinner who sexually provoked a saint in “Like a Prayer,” Madonna played around with the taboo themes of sexuality of the decade. By doing so, she was pushing people’s buttons and making a career out of her unapologetic self-expression.
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For a female pop star to create art that has overarching political statements was rare and rather unthinkable during Reagan’s presidency. Then and now, she has been regarded as a sexual icon and as the leading sex symbol of the era. Her consistent usage of explicit  sexual content in the videos and lyrics caused her to face constant censorship by MTV and other entities- She was even threatened to be arrested by Toronto police on the grounds of “lewd and obscene behavior” for pretending to masturbate during her live performance of “Like a Virgin.”  But, Madona’s efforts pushing boundaries and challenging the deep-rooted sexism in American culture was absolutely necessary at the time. Madonna took ownership of her own sexuality, capitalized off of it, and utilized it as a source of power- which was absolutely terrifying for the population of men who felt entitled to control women’s choices, particularly women’s bodies. 
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In the face of the early-80s AIDS crisis and a peak in homophobia, Madonna stood as an ally for the LGBTQ+ community. She was never shy about her adoration for the community, and has even been tagged as the first major mainstream artist to give LGBTQ+ images and themes mass treatment and exposure. Madonna was intimately connected to a wide community of gay men in the earlier years of her career as an artistic collaborator, a political ally, and as a friend, says Christopher Glazek, the founder of the YALE Aids Memorial Project. The 80s time period significantly affected the community; In spite of the stigma and criticism, Madonna appreciated, represented, and credited gay culture in her performances and musical endeavors, and made it a point to publicly denounce homophobia in the midst of a political and social climate riddled with homohysteria.
Madonna’s contributions to modern popular culture have been widely remarked by many, globally. British journalist, Matt Cain, assured that “without Madonna, from music to fashion to the whole concept of celebrities, today’s pop culture landscape would simply not exist as it is.” She took the values of American culture and communicated them in a way that was unheard of.
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jojoblessed365 · 1 year
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Snippet of 'Teach Me Tonight'
In response to yesterday's poll, here's a snippet of tomorrow's chapter. So here goes:
So, naturally, once Rory has made up her mind about a course of action, it all goes to shit almost immediately.
It happens during the block after lunch, about halfway through. Rory’s teaching her second of her two back-to-back classes of American Lit and she’s pretty much just keeping an eye on the students while they halfass their way through a worksheet about the American Dream as depicted in Fitzgerald’s The Great Gatsby, Tennessee Williams’ The Glass Menagerie and Arthur Miller’s Death of a Salesman when there’s a knock on her classroom door.
Rory, and pretty much every student, turns to see Jess standing in the doorway. And her heart just leaps into her throat and she has to gulp against the feeling while every warning bell goes off in the back of her head.
Jess stands there, looking at her with the most inscrutable look on his face, features carefully composed into a hard mask, giving absolutely nothing away. “Miss Gilmore, I need to see you in the hall for a moment.” His voice, like his face, is hard, leaving no room for argument and those warning bells becoming blaring sirens.
Shit, he’s pissed. Well, there goes all my hope, Rory thinks as disappointment begins to build inside of her.
A low “ooo” ripples through the room and Rory turns to level a stern glare at everyone. “Keep working. I’ll be back in just a minute.” Something in her voice must give no room for argument, either, because the entire class immediately looks back down at their papers. With a deep breath, Rory gets up from the stool she’s perched on and wipes her suddenly sweaty palms on her blouse before she moves to head out to the hallway. Jess waits for her to get to the door and swiftly turns a heel and she takes the moment as she follows him out to just stare at his retreating form once more before he turns her down and tears her a new one.
She was right earlier; he is wearing a tight dark grey t-shirt that exposes his biceps and highlights his muscular upper body that makes her mouth water and she chides herself for checking him out when he’s just about to kill every hope and dream she’s ever had.
But Rory knows she’s never going to stop being attracted to Jess, no matter what, and she’s just going to have to figure out a way to manage this for the rest of her life. As Rory steps through the doorway, she turns to pull the door shut behind her – really, whatever she can do to limit the potential audience size for the metaphysical murder that’s about to happen.
For a brief moment, Rory closes her eyes, still facing the door, and takes a deep breath before she feels ready to face him. “Jess,” she says as she starts to turn, apology building up on her lips – might as well see if she can soften some of the blow she’s about to receive. “I’m so sorry, I-”
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What do you think Grissom meant in the “I need you” like at the crime scene and Sara’s look / smile after he says it?
hi, anon!
well, in the literal, surface-level sense, he means that since he has a complicated pair of coincident cases before him (i.e., the aggravated assault on the taxi driver and the stabbing homicide of the teenager), he needs another criminalist to help him in the investigation, because there's too much work for just one person to do by himself. as he explains to sara, everyone else on the team is unavailable, and he has no id, no suspects, and no primary crime scene. if he's gonna get this thing solved, he will require another set of hands AND another mind at work to get everything processed and figured out.
of course, as is usually the case with gsr, there's the surface level, and then there's what lies beneath—and in this case what lies beneath is an apology of sorts.
note that when sara first walks up to grissom and starts "complaining" about how he called her away from a mandatory continuing education seminar, she is 100% putting on a show, trying to flirt with him. she's not really upset about the call-in—and is in fact excited that he chose her to spend the day with—she's just being sassy to tease him. you can tell by how she makes sure to mention that the seminar was on forensic anthropology (i.e., the same topic as grissom's 1998 forensic academy seminar, where she and grissom first met and fell in love) and also because she has that kind of cocky affect going on.
unfortunately for her, grissom is in no mood to flirt, atm.
he's stressed, so he ends up being curt with her ("well, i'm sorry, but everyone seems to have something to do today"), responding to her playfulness with a dour rundown of a long list of things going wrong with his case so far.
watch sara's face as he does so: you can see her do a sort of "oh shit. i totally played that wrong. oh shit. yeah, no, he's not interested in joking around today. okay. yikes" reaction in real time, her brow furrowing and mouth falling open as she realizes he's not sharing her same wavelength.
of course, we can't see either grissom or sara's eyes in this scene, as they're both wearing shades, so i can't say so with 100% certainty, but i'm pretty sure grissom clocks sara's little recoil as soon as it happens and recognizes that he misread her "grousing" from earlier as more serious than she meant it to be.
she's not actually arguing with him; she's there to help.
that's why he adds a coda to soften the blow of his diatribe at the end: "i need you."
as stated above, one reading of the statement is professional—he needs her to help him work the case—but the other one is personal.
over the years, grissom has always used the lab/the work to represent himself when he expresses his attraction to and yearning for sara—such as, for instance, in episode 02x15 "burden of proof" when he tells her "the lab needs [her]" or even later on in episode 05x13 "nesting dolls" when he tells ecklie "she's a great criminalist, conrad. and i need her." he always makes it about the job, because that's what safe to him; that's justifiable. however, in reality, he’s using the job as a stand-in for his own self and his feelings.
so he does the same thing here.
outwardly, he's telling her "i need your help on this case" but on a more personal note, he's expressing that he didn't mean to be harsh to her and that he does want her around—not just in a professional capacity—because, of course, he always does.
it's a sincere expression of genuine feeling, a little bit of vulnerability from him to make up for his prickliness earlier.
and that's why sara smiles—because that man is so damn charming.
she knows the professional meaning behind the words, but she also hears the personal one. yeah, it was probably largely luck of the draw that she ended up being the only team member who was even potentially available to come help him today, but that doesn't mean he wasn't secretly happy it was her.
she knows he was.
he's basically telling her as much.
in this context, "i need you" is tantamount to "i want you."
and she'll be damned if she doesn't love hearing him so say.
cue a three-day long gsr super date, replete with all kinds of romantic overtures, sweet gestures, and eye sex galore.
thanks for the question! please feel welcome to send another any time.
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princessroyal95 · 8 months
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This is love (Charlotte Katakuri x Hirawashi Len) [English version]
Summary
Who can love a monster like Charlotte Katakuri? He is the son of Charlotte Linlin, known as Big Mom, and the question of the second eldest child in the family is who could love someone like him.
The idea of him falls apart when he meets a somewhat tsundere girl, but with a heart of gold that will make the commander fall in love.
-----------x-----------
Chapter XVI
The day arrived when both lovers spoke to Big Mom to tell him the good news. They were calm. They shouldn't be nervous, should they? Today was the Tea Party and Katakuri knows it's the right time to tell his mother. That he and Len would get married. They are going to be husband and wife. The young woman was wearing her engagement ring with pride no matter if others notice that detail.
Katakuri is detail-oriented when it comes to these things. He wanted everything to go smoothly. He wanted his other brothers to accept the wedding as Linlin did. Although the latter will accept as his strongest son and one of the commanders will marry the strongest girl in Grand Line. And speaking of them, the two were in the training room. Len was determined to accompany Katakuri to that place because she wanted to train with him.
And clearly, he has not denied it. He loved being with her and he would be like that for all eternity. But deep down, he was interested in knowing what the young woman could do against him. He knows that she has a supernatural strength because of what she told him and he would like to prove it. And he took the opportunity that no one was in the room today. Being big can be difficult for Len; however, she had an advantage in terms of height. Katakuri may find it difficult to keep up with him.
Both of them position themselves to fight and start their training routine. When Katakuri receives one of Len's fists he didn't expect that to make him back up quite a bit. He was impressed. He has noticed it in his own flesh. But he knows that that was not enough to send him flying like he has done with Ghechis or when he first met her. She was holding back.
"Get your full potential."
"I don't want to hurt you."
"I'm not like the others," the big guy rectifies by getting into position, "I can take your punches."
"Except for that one slap," she laughs as she remembers.
"Because you caught me off guard."
"Oh, yeah, right."
Len runs towards him taking big strides and is going to hit him; however, she did not expect Katakuri to use his Armor Haki leaving her unprepared. How she hated the big guy using that to defend himself. She even blows up her cheeks in annoyance. This made him laugh Katakuri who even sketches a smile that is not noticeable under his scarf. Len hits him again and again, wanting the boy to fall.
And Katakuri was not expected to use his ability to immobilize Len's legs. She was trapped. She was making every effort to move. How could the mochi be so hard? She noticed that the commander approached her and with one hand he began to slowly lift her up to her height. Both of them look at each other's eyes.
"You're a cheater," says the angry girl.
"Oh, you think so?" They were alone in that room and he could do whatever he wanted with her.
"Of course I could."
"I don't like to cheat, but with you I'll do whatever it takes," he purrs very close to the girl's face and dodges a fist from her easily.
"He fights like a man," she says, raising her other fist, but is stopped by Katakuri's hands, which he holds tightly.
"And I am fighting, but in a very different way." He lowered his scarf a little, taking advantage of the opportunity that the two of them were alone.
"No kissing is worthwhile." The girl moves her face away a little as she saw him coming. On the other hand, the mochi attracts the girl's body even more.
"In this battle it's worth it."
He was about to kiss her, but he hears someone open the door of that room. He freezes for a moment, and thanks to Len who loosens his grip and covers his mouth with his scarf. He peeps out a little to see who was and was Cracker along with Oven and Daifuku. The three brothers look at the scene and smile amusingly.
"Are we interrupting something?" Oven asks with his arms crossed.
"No, you saved my ass," the girl honestly hugs Katakuri by the neck, "I was going to be raped by your brother."
"It's not true." His voice was a bit annoying.
"Hey, let's kiss on the honeymoon." Daifuku hits Katakuri's back.
"Or rather, the things of grown-ups."
"How fine you are, Cracker."
"There are children here."
"What children?" asks Oven confusedly.
"Are you calling me a brat?!" shouts Len almost making Katakuri deaf.
"Hey, you let Katakuri call you Hobbit."
"Because I let him!"
"Well, that's it, I'll get out of here deaf," says Katakuri with his eyes closed almost bearing the screams of his future wife.
"I'm sorry, my love," says Len lovingly caressing the face of her future husband.
"My love?!" Now it is the other three who have shouted and Katakuri was very red.
"What's wrong?! Can't I call him that, you bastards?!"
To Katakuri's ears it sounded a bit corny, but it was sweet that he called it that. He hid his face in the gap between her neck and shoulder, where it began to purr slightly. Len, for his part, strokes the head of this one laughing softly as she sees that he was behaving like a child. It was her big boy, no doubt about it. She felt the mochi disappearing, freeing her legs, but being held by Katakuri's arms.
The commander turned with her to look at his brothers to see what they wanted. Cracker looks at a detail that Len has and it was the ring on her finger. Has he already asked her to marry him? He smiles broadly as he sees that his brother has already taken the final step. And now, what will happen? 'He'll tell Mum, for sure', thought Cracker.
"Have you come to train or to bother? asks Katakuri, letting himself be caressed by the girl.
"Well, if you want, we can leave you alone," Oven proposes with his hands raised in innocence.
"Don't bother," says Len looking at the three brothers.
"Are you sure?" Daifuku approaches the weights to begin his training.
"We were both training until Katakuri gave him a chance to play."
A grunt heard in Katakuri's throat as if he didn't like what the girl said very much. However, there was nothing he could do. The urge to play with her was too tempting. Who can't resist? Look at the clock on the wall of the room, seeing what time it was. There was still time for the Tea Party and to break the news to Linlin.
They should take advantage of this time to train with her along with his brothers. It's time to put in a good word.
The entire Charlotte family was gathered at the Tea Party where Linlin enjoyed the food as never before as did his children. Everyone was doing their own thing. That meant they talked to each other or preferred to keep eating their favourite food. Len was next to Katakuri seeing that the man had not eaten a single bite. And she understood him perfectly. There are some brothers who do not know the secret of the big man and it was better to hide it.
Instead, she was enjoying the delicious chocolate that the chefs brought to taste. She had never complained. Katakuri would occasionally look at her out of the corner of his eye and laugh softly when he saw his future wife eating like that. He felt like stroking her head to pamper her, but he restrained himself in the presence of his family. However, he gradually rises, drawing attention to everything, including Linlin's.
"Is something wrong, Katakuri?" asks Big Mom strangely.
"I want to communicate something." He raises his hand to where Len was, and he fucks it without a problem. "Len has already chosen who will marry her."
"Who?!" The woman raises her voice when she hears the magic word.
"With her son Charlotte Katakuri," Len announces, leaving everyone speechless.
"Mamamama! That means the wedding has to be prepared! And the cake! There's no time to lose!"
The brothers rise to celebrate this great news. The sisters, like Smoothie, got up to approach Len and ask her to be the godmother or to go and buy the dress. The young Hirawashi was getting overwhelmed with so many women on top of her. She needed air urgently. Katakuri only laughed at what was happening. However, he was included. Brûlée, for example, came over to tell his brother about the suit that he had found one in a shop. Now he is the one who is overwhelmed.
Both of them really feel overwhelmed with so many people around them. Was it a good idea to communicate this? It was already too late to delay the time and that this did not happen. The two look at each other and can only do one thing: try to sneak out so that he would leave them alone. Although it is not an easy task, the truth is.
Len, being a little girl, had no problem getting out of the hustle and bustle of sisters who kept asking her how she wanted the dress. And well, Katakuri was still fighting with all his strength to get out of there. He even apologized for not listening to his beloved brothers. It tasted awful to him, but it was too much to bear. Len was already outside the dining room together with Katakuri and they both closed the door quickly.
"I never thought that I was running away from my own brothers," confesses Katakuri bending all his body to be at Len's level.
"I was already struggling with so much of buying the dress and so on," she wipes the sweat from her forehead with her hand.
"But that's all there is to it." He holds her in his arms as if she were a simple doll. "You're going to be my wife."
"And you my husband." She puts her hand on his face almost caressing the area of the scar.
"Who would have thought that you and I would end up like this?
"People will be saying: 'Have you gone mad or what?'" Laughs the girl leaning her forehead against his.
"I don't care what they say." Katakuri had his mind made up as he put his hand on the girl's belly. "Do you think we'll have any surprises?"
"I just hope I don't have twins or triplets because I'm dying."
"Exaggerated."
She takes off the major's scarf a bit to give him a little kiss on his lips taking advantage of the fact that there was nobody around. Katakuri purrs with pleasure caressing the girl's stomach area. He wants to take her home and have sex with her all day. He wanted her too much. And if she gets pregnant there would be no fun for both of them. He can only pamper her and give her all the love in the world.
Without hesitation, he walks to one of the mirrors in that large room and Len realizes Katakuri's intentions. She strikes her chest hard to get his attention, but seems to ignore him completely.
"Katakuri, don't even think about it!"
"I want to play with you." His voice becomes somewhat manly to Len's ears.
"Put me down!" This time he was using brute force to stop the big guy. How could he not be impressed?
"No." Once he entered the Mirror World and for young Len there was no turning back. She is already in Katakuri territory.
❌❌❌❌
"Do I really have to wear this dress?"
"But it fits you beautifully."
Pudding together with Smoothie, Galette and Brûlée were with Len on the theme of the bridal gown. The four sisters were excited to see how the girl would look in those costumes. For Len it was a torture. How is it possible that all women are excited to wear a wedding dress? At least not her. It looked too corny. And on top of that, white. And look how pale she is, like snow itself. Black would suit her, but she would look like a widow later.
She doesn't know how many suits she wears, but it was making her too tired. She wants to finish now and sleep once and for all. Katakuri will surely not have it difficult because it is only a suit that is adjustable for him and that's it. Will he wear the scarf to the wedding? Knowing him, yes.
He already wears the last suit. The commander's sisters were not very convinced by the previous suits. However, their eyes light up to see Len as a real princess in that outfit. If Katakuri saw her at that very moment, he would be gawking at her for about five minutes.
"With a hairstyle and good make-up you'll be beautiful," says Galette already having an idea.
"Tell me you like this one at the end."
"Are you tired?" she asks, unable to help but laugh.
"This is fucking exhausting."
"But it's your wedding! You should be happy!"
"I am, but this picking outfits thing is not my thing." She wanted so badly to take it off.
"That's why we're here to help you." Smoothie drinks from her glass without looking at the girl. "You're obviously indecisive."
'And you too, don't fuck with me', made her want to kill someone right then and there. How will Katakuri do?
❌❌❌❌
"Colours too warm. Too dull. I don't like it."
"Katakuri!"
Well, I think he also has the same problem as Len, a bit hesitant when it comes to choosing a suit. He's tried on a few and none of them made him feel comfortable.
"And then we say that women are the most complicated," Daifuku says with a drop on his temple.
"But this suit fits you like a glove." His older brother Perospero was holding that garment.
"And I don't like it."
"Do you want to wear black all over?" Cracker was holding another one of that colour.
"Your girlfriend is going to wear white and you're going to wear black. It's not a good combination." Oven was not very convinced.
"What do you mean? On second thought they would be like Ying and Yang, representing them as woman and man."
"Since when have you become a wise man, Cracker?"
"I read, you asshole!" he shouts to Oven.
Katakuri just sighs taking the hanger that Cracker was holding and goes into the changing room to put it on. He was already very tired of taking off and putting on clothes. He looks at himself in the mirror turning a little to see how that garment fit. The truth is that the dark colours looked good on the commander. He was already imagining Len in his white colour, letting her velvety skin shine a little more.
He was already going to another place and didn't realize that his brothers pulled back the curtain a little bit to see him. And he quickly covered his face with the scarf.
"One thing: will you wear that to the wedding?" asks Daifuku pointing to the scarf.
"You know perfectly well that I cannot show my face to anyone."
"But that would be ugly of you."
"It's your decision, Daifuku," Oven reproaches him, understanding his brother. "Will you take that one?"
"It looks pretty good on me, doesn't it?"
"You bet it does," laughs Perospero.
"Well, I'll take it."
❌❌❌❌
Len spent her life in Katakuri's house and it is not because she wants to, but because the commander kidnapped her to bring her there and do with her what he wanted. Both were a little bit nervous because the wedding was approaching and the girl was already surrendered. She did not want to move from the bed, she was comfortable. Even more so when Katakuri was with her caressing the area of her spine with his fingers.
She loved that way of pampering her while she rested her whole body trying not to think about anything. Katakuri took advantage from time to time of kissing her naked back and resting his cheek on it. Being with her made him feel a thousand wonders. He purred as if he were a cat enjoying this pleasant sensation of peace and tranquility. They both did not want to get out of bed, they were very comfortable in it.
Len turned her body a little to look at those maroon eyes she liked so much. It was a unique and attractive colour. Katakuri's arms surround the girl's small body while he rests his head again, this time between Len's breasts, but without looking away from them. Their connection is so unique that they did not need to talk. It was all visual language.
"Kata," she calls to him as her fingers caress his cheekbones, "I'm not sure if the wedding will be perfect."
"Why do you say that?"
"I might screw up at any moment."
"As long as you're with me, nothing will happen," he says quietly with his eyes closed, inhaling the girl's scent.
"Such a perfectionist." Unwittingly, she yawns, rubbing one of her eyes.
"It is the truth."
"I know you mean it with the truth."
And he is absolutely right, with Katakuri everything was going to be great. She didn't have to worry. Young Len's fingers began to tangle in the commander's wild hair. He simply purrs like a cat when receiving such caresses. He would spend his whole life like this with her. And that is going to happen soon. He was anxious for the time to come and for everyone to know that the most feared pirate in the family, Charlotte and son of the Yonkou, was married to the strongest girl in the Grand Line.
Len's hands slowly descend where her fingers make small circles on Katakuri's tattoo. It was huge, yes, it was enough for him to just run over it with two of his fingers. He sighs slowly hugging Len's body a little more to be more comfortable. Although he can crush it with his body. And now he was caressing that scar that runs along one of his cheeks. Touching every stitch and even one of his fangs.
Who would have thought that a pirate with a high reward would be so adorable? Many don't see it that way. She can admire Katakuri's inner and outer beauty, she liked what her eyes were seeing. That's why she chose him. And not because his face is unique, but because deep down he can see a Katakuri who wanted to protect at all costs what matters most to him. And he has shown throughout this month that they have been getting to know each other.
"Len." Listen to him call and stop his caresses. "If you get pregnant, do you promise not to get in the way of the battle?"
"Do you want me to promise something that will be impossible?"
"I don't want you to get hurt." His hand rests on her belly.
"I can take care of myself," she reproaches him.
"I know, but you will be in danger including the creature."
She holds Katakuri's face to look at her. She shows a small smile.
"How cute you are when you are protective."
"You know perfectly well how I am."
"I know." She implants a small kiss on her lips. "And I like it."
Katakuri smiles when she hears the news that he is returning to his old position without stopping to caress the girl's belly. He was already looking forward to forming a family with her, but first the wedding
And that will be in a week's time.
-----------x-----------
Chapter XV.
Chapter XVII.
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a concept:
borrower lives in an abandoned house, nothing too derelict, but secluded enough that there's really no need to fear any wildlife or humans and they have a pretty good set up going. That is, until a group of amateur ghost hunters/urban explorers show up and start fucking around with everything in the name of capturing something "spooky" on their camera for clickbait-y YouTube video.
Oh, they want a ghost, huh? How about something skittering in the walls. How about random flickers of power surges despite the breaker box being in the basement while they're on the second floor? Maybe they turn away for just a minute and suddenly their tripod is nudged two inches to the left. Did that vase sitting on the mantle just inexplicably fall to the floor and shatter? Why is the basement door slowly creaking open?
they wanted a show, the borrower is gonna give 'em a fucking show
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vitchimage · 2 years
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Just read your platonic soc x reader and loved it!!!!! Can I get a platonic soc x quiet reader where they are traumatized from their past and she joins the crows. The reader hates touch like Kaz so when Jesper hugs her or touches her she passes out. She has a really high fever when she wakes up and the crows help her to get better. Kaz gifts her some gloves. TYSM!!! ILY writing!!! also you don't have to do this if you don't want!! :)
AAAAAH! THANK YOUU IT MEANS A LOT TRULY!<3
And of course, you can! I hope you are satisfied with it!<3
TW!: Mention of abuse, insecurities, suicidal thoughts, panic attack due to trauma
Important note:
Suicide, death, is never an answer, trust me. It's though, it's cruel right now, but it will ease down soon. And you won't know nor realize how proud I am for you all for still being here, because words aren't enough to describe it.
This is just the storm before the calm, after night, after dark, comes the day, comes the light. Don't give up, not just yet, your life isn't supposed to end here, not now.
Suicide hotline for all countries in the world
Other notes: As always might be some grammar mistakes, I tried my best I'm sorry.
We care because you are worth it.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
She didn’t expect much when joining the crows months ago, where she barely said anything even when meeting them face to face for the first time. All she uttered was “Please, help..” Her voice is so quiet as the wind of the night, “I will do anything, I won’t stand in the way, and make a use of myself, so please let me join.”
She just wanted somewhere protected, or at least away from her wretched family.
Miraculously, Kaz saw a potential in her, the quieter you are, the more you are able to attract and allure the target out of curiosity, or even sneak up behind them. And with a short time of training, she could be ready to join the heists and missions they went to.
“Any weapons you are good with?” Kaz asked,
“N-no..but I am a quick learner, I promise..” She fidgets with her hands, “And I’m really familiar with every place here...”
“Alright, one chance, don’t blow it away.” Kaz sighed, running a hand through his hair.
“Thank you, sir..!” She beamed a little.
She was warmly welcomed to the group and got along well, despite her barely uttering a word.
And who would have thought that months later in the present time, she would be lying in bed, the crow members surrounding her worried, due to an incident moments ago.
“My god!” Nina quickly puts a blanket over Y/N, “What were you doing outside?! It’s raining like crazy!”
“I thought it would be nice feeling the rain,” Y/N smiled.
“You could have caught a cold, even worse a fever,” Kaz pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Ah, I didn’t think much through, I’m sorry…” She looked down as she tightened her grip around the blanket.
‘Why can’t you do anything right?!’ Her thoughts screamed at her. Insecurities screamed at her, how much trouble she must have caused to them, a burden for everyone, an idiot who can’t use their brain right, the akin poison of words that was once said to her from the people that were supposed to love her, to take care and protect her.
It’s amazing how a family can turn out to be. Reality is cruel, but not in the name of fantasy.
It didn’t help easing her mind when Jesper put an arm around her shoulder, telling Kaz that he worries too much, his voice so teasing.
The feeling of his touch made her breathing hitch, it felt like she was choking, air refusing to come out of her throat.
“Come now father, the girl’s uselessness shouldn’t surprise you anymore!” A voice from the past rang with one of their arms wrapped around her shoulder, the other was used to rub against her head, almost tugging her hair. They didn’t stop even if she kept yelping in pain.
“Y/N?” Nina and Inej called out, noticing something was wrong. Of course, they would as she stood there trembling, her gaze was on the floor, but it didn’t stop it from going miles away.
“Y/N! WHY CAN’T YOU DO ANYTHING RIGHT?!” A female voice yells,
“Hey! what’s wrong?” Matthias got up from his seat, walking towards her in a haste speed.
“What’s wrong? Are you going to cry? cry like a baby like you always are?” A voice mocked,
“Cause that’s all you are good for,”
“Hey,” Jesper peers down to take a good look at her face.
“Hey, go and be a bother to someone else, we don’t need nor want you here.”
Wylan kneeled down to make some sort of contact with her, his eyes filled with concern.
But Kaz knew this reaction, he has experienced something similar after all, “Jesper get your hands off of her!” He was quick to be at her side, smacking Jesper’s arm away.
But it did not ease her muddled mind, where it could barely differentiate where she was, reality or just inside her mind. It did not ease the exhaustion kicking in, feeling warmth seeping through her body like she was burning. Nor did it help that vision turned dark and the only thing she could hear was muffled shouts of concern and people trying to catch her before she fell onto the floor.
Or maybe to punish her for her wrongdoings, for being complete and utterly useless, a burden, who is good for nothing, an idiot who can’t ever seem to use her brain right.
An unwanted child, an unloved one. A mistake, a shame, to the family. to everyone.
And maybe this is where she would die? Finally leaving this cruel life and into something worth breathing in. Somewhere she wouldn’t feel exhausted from opening her eyes to take in the reality bestowed onto her. And even when the crows had gifted her nothing but affection, love, and protection - a safety she craved it did not ease nor heal the deepest wound in her rooted heart. The very wound that drains her energy every day, the very wound that makes her believe every aspect of her is a flaw, a flaw nobody wants. The very wound who whispers sweet nothing about how life would be without her. So much better, so much better it would whisper. The same wound that makes her tired, exhausted, of the reality, she has to breathe in. The wound that numbs away everything.
Yeah, maybe death was better for her, the only thing she felt so at ease with.
So, she didn’t expect that when she opened her eyes she was greeted by the crows around her bed, worries filling their expression. She expected to just open her eyes to come back to an empty reality, that the crows probably threw her out, or just left.
“How are you feeling?” Inej asked as Nina put a wet cloth on Y/N's forehead to ease the temperature down.
“I’m..I’m not dead yet?” Y/N answered so quietly you could barely hear anything.
“No, sweetheart. You are very much alive.”
“Why?” Nina and Matthias looked at each other, pained at the question, before looking back at Y/N, who didn’t even make eye contact with them.
“Why care for a girl who can’t do anything right?” Y/N voice cracked a little, “Why care for someone who is just going to hold everyone back, being a burden,”
“That’s not true,” Jesper butts in, “What you’re saying is not true!”
“Jesper!” Wylan wrapped his arms around Jesper’s, “not now, ok?”
Y/N looks over to Jesper. He had his fist clenched. his expression hardened,
“How..how could you think that?” Jesper mumbles, “Did we do anything to make you think and feel like that..?”
“No,”
“Then..?”
“I guess I’m used to hearing it so I,” but she stops at that, exhaustion pushing down the words, “I don’t know,” was all she said.
“But that’s not true, to us, you’re someone important, not as a member or for a heist or mission, but as a friend, as a family.” Inej stroked her hair soothingly.
‘Family..’ Y/N gave up on those thoughts, being crushed too many times with that.
“You mean a lot to us, that’s why. No matter how many mistakes, how many reckless things you do or say, no matter what, you will always have us, we will always care for you and love you. You are worth it, worth our care, worth our time, worth anything.” Inej continued,
“Your flaw, your wounds, does not mean you can’t have the happiness you crave.”
“Know your worth, Y/N. Those who see it deserve your time, those who don’t, doesn’t. Focus on those who give you something back, not those who just take.” Wylan jumps in.
“You’re stronger than you think,” Nina states, “Braver than you think,” Matthais adds in.
“Thank you..everyone..” A tear rolls down Y/N's cheek.
“Always,” they said.
A moment later a knock was heard,
“Come in!” Nina yells to the person on the other side of the door.
The door creaks open, revealing it was Kaz, as his cane was heard tapping onto the wooden floor as he reached towards Y/N, the others making some space for him.
“I..” he began, “I bought you some gloves,” He handed them to Y/N.
“Bought or stolen?” Nina asked, cocking one of her eyebrows.
“Bought,” Kaz said firmly, “I don’t want to cause them any bigger trouble,”
He looks at her, Y/N smiling happily looking at the gloves she held in her hands.
“Thank you, Kaz!”
He huffed, “It wasn’t a problem.”
Although stoic, and never asked how she felt, this small gesture was enough for her, enough for her to see him care.
Maybe another chance on a family wouldn’t be so bad, maybe she can finally heal. It won’t be easy, no, but now she felt like she wanted to breathe in this reality. Ready to counter any cruelty it will bestow on her, ready to fight and confront it.
After all, once broken, shattered, there is nobody but her who can fix them, but with the help of the crows, she has the energy, strength, and determination to do that now unlike before.
Cause now she was sure. no matter what, they would provide her the care, the love, the safety, and protection a family should provide, something she needed and craved.
And there is no path now, other than the path to happiness.
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Wild
Chapter 1: Blow Your Mind ~ Edited
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(This is NOT my gif. Credit to the creator <3)
series summary: you are wild and just what he needs
chapter summary: You meet a certain blue eyed dectective, and somehow you end up at his place
pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader
warning: little pieces of smut, underage drinker, curse words, vulgar language, minors DNI
word count: 2k
A/N: This has been edited but if there are any mistakes I do aplogize, google docs is to blame! <3
~
The club was absolutely crazy like any other Friday night. There were a bunch of teenagers with fake IDs trying to get past the bouncers. You only smirked as you looked down at your own. You are just at the edge of 21 at 20 but still, not many people cared really. You take your seat at the bar, crossing one leg over the other and calling over the cute bartender that always tended to you when you came.
“The usual, miss?”
“Yes please, Tyler.”
You felt his eyes on you as soon as you walked inside, like they were drawn to you. You were used to the attention. Not to be cocky, but you always dressed to impress, and impress you did. Tonight you wore a slim silky red dress, it stopped just below your thighs, hugging your curves in all the right places, enhancing your figure to its full potential. You matched the dress with a pair of black strap heels, and finishing it was a black clutch.
Jay wasn’t sure what pulled him in, maybe it was the dress, maybe it was how you simply rolled your eyes at the advances of multiple men as soon as you walked into the club. Then again, the way you held yourself with confidence and certainty made him approach you. He should’ve known better. He was here to get information not flirt with an attractive girl. Yet here he was walking right up to you.
“I think I’m gonna need to see some ID?” The voice startled you as it boomed louder than the music. The shock was short lived as you twirled around only to face him. His badge hanging around his neck and a smirk on his face.
“Whatcha gonna do if I refuse, officer? Arrest me?” You asked, mirroring his smirk. He chuckled at your response with a nod. He was handsome. His brown hair and blue eyes capturing you instantly. Just your type, of course. You knew in the moment you’d be in his bed by the end of the night.
“I might.”
“If I try to escape, would you toss me around a little? Because if I knew you’d be that much fun I’ll start running now.”
“You are wild, woman.” Jay laughed. You giggled like a schoolgirl, placing your hands on his hard chest.
“Only a little.”
You were always a flirt, especially for very attractive men with blue eyes and brown hair. But there was something about him that drew you in a little more than the others. Maybe it was the badge or maybe it was the way he had that “I’m in control” vibe that had your knees weak and heart beating a mile a minute. You were loving it.
He fell into the seat next to you and ordered a drink for himself and you as well. You started to protest, but he was quick to shake his head with a laugh.
“At least let me buy you a drink.” He grinned. You sighed defeatedly but nodded. You couldn’t help but smile though. This wasn’t your first time letting a guy buy you a drink, but somehow it was different.
You got past the introductions easily, falling into a simple conversation that had you sitting there talking instead of craving a dance that you initially came to this club for.
He was so gorgeous, and a gentleman too. He wasn’t trying to get you drunk, or insisting on bringing you home. He was polite, kind, and even helped a woman call an Uber so she could get home. It all made a tingling feeling burst in your stomach. His actions only set in stone the plan you already had made the moment you saw him. There was no way this night could end with him over you.
Despite the loud music and the woman that had throwing themselves at Jay trying to claim his attention, his eyes never strayed, and the flirting never stopped, it seemed to pick up as the night went on. You had your hand placed on his bicep giggling as he told you a story of him and his friend Mouse.
“I think I’d like to meet this friend. He seems interesting.”
“I’m also interesting,” he declared, the grin never leaving his face. You purse your lips, swirling your cocktail in your glass.
“Well I don’t know if I want interesting tonight, but I do want a bed and a man.” You looked back at him, lust swirling in your irises, nearly identical to his own.
“I’m great at multitasking. Let me make a phone call and then if your down, we can-“
“I’ll give you ten minutes, Detective. It takes a lot to keep my attention, remember that.”
With a smirk and a nod, he walked away, pulling his phone from his pocket. You bit your lip before calling over the bartender and ordering another shot. You drowned it and slammed a twenty dollar bill on the counter. You take your coat and wrap it around your shoulders.
You were going home with a stranger, a hot stranger no less. It isn’t the first time, you took the proper cautions and texted your friend, being sure to turn on your Find My IPhone, so your friend could find you if you didn’t come home the next day. You also made sure to give her his name and she was quick to mention how she in fact knew him from her boyfriend. She assured you he was a good man, and you’d be okay with him.
You found yourself smiling down at your phone, a sigh leaving your lips and your shoulder sagging slightly. He seemed like an amazing guy, but you weren’t looking for commitment, you only hoped he understood that.
It wasn’t even five minutes later was his arms wrapped around your shoulders as he led you outside the club and towards his truck.
There was little talk here and there as you were waiting impatiently to finally get to where he was going. What you guessed was his truck came into view, you excitedly gripped his hand as he dragged you forward.
He unlocked it, opening the door and letting you slide in properly before he grabbed the seatbelt, reaching over to clasp it in. You took in a breath as his hand grazed over your center, laying your head back.
“If you feel uncomfortable at any time, tell me and I’ll take you home. Okay?”
You nodded quickly, really just wanting to jump his bones right now as he stared up at you with those innocent blue eyes. He was such a gentleman. You hoped he could be a little more rough in bed, because rough is what you liked.
“Say you understand,” he commands, taking a hold of your knee and squeezing it. You gulp, shivers rolling down your spine like a bucket of cold water had been poured down your back.
“I understand.”
He nods, shutting the door and rushing to the other side where he climbed in and started the truck.
You had to admit, he looked hot sitting in his truck, he looked hot period, but it was magnified as you stared at him. His hand rested on the steering wheel and the other resting on the console, his eyes shifting to you ever so often. It was like his hand was itching to touch you. Biting your lip you grab his hand, the roughness of his finger tips coming into contact with the smoothness of your thigh as you set it there. You ignore the look he gives you, smirking as you look out the window at the city lights passing.
The feeling of his hand running up and down your thigh made goosebumps rise to your skin. You shift your eyes to Jay, readjusting in your seat. He glanced at you for a split second, finding the beauty that is you. God, he couldn’t wait to have you in his bed.
You bit your lip, grabbing hold of his hand and moving it closer and closer to your center.
“You better stop, kitten, before I pull over.” He gave you a sarcastic smile, squeezing your panty clad mound tightly. Your hips bucked, a moan escaping your lips. He found himself loving the sound and wanting to hear it more. Your hand gripped his tightly, keeping it right where it was. Your head rolled to the side, looking at him with a giggle.
“Maybe you should. I really need you inside me or maybe your head between my thighs.”
“Yeah? You look pathetic. Rubbing up against my hand.” You whined at his words, licking your lips. He gave you another squeeze. Excitement bubbled in your stomach.
Jay’s pants tightened as you spread your legs even more, slipping down slightly in the seat so he could continue rubbing the palm of his hand against your aching heat. You eagerly lifted your hips, craving more pressure on your special spot.
“Why don’t you just pull over and take me in the backseat of your truck. Or I could just climb in your lap and give you the best ride of your life.”
“I bet you're all talk, kitten.”
“I’m gonna blow your mind, Halstead,” you smirk.
“I’m betting on it.” He mirrored your smirk, pressing his middle finger into you through your lace red panties. You moan, undoing your seat belt quickly and holding his hand where it was, head rolling to the side. He curses at your wetness and eagerness for him to touch you.
“We’re almost there, be patient.”
“Tell your mini me to be patient, honey.” You pushed his hand from your soaked center. He bit his lip, glancing down at his pants and he was indeed a little excited.
He groaned under his breath. The strain in his pants couldn’t possibly get worse, but by the looks of you, slightly disheveled and flustered. You were chewing on your lip, watching the city pass by. All this time you’ve spent in Chicago and you’ve never gotten used to how pretty the lit up city was. Jay set his eyes back on the road, smiling to himself. Although the lights were indeed eye-catching, there’s nothing that could compare to your beauty.
There was little conversation here and there before he was pulling into his driveway. You both scrambled out of the truck, his hand guiding you towards the front door, where he unlocked and opened it so he could push you inside.
You were slammed against the door as it closed behind him, his body pressed against your own, earning a desperate whine from your throat. Your breathing quickened, knees weak and mind going a mile a minute as his hands run over your body, gripping at whatever his hands could grab onto.
“You're such a pretty little thing.”
“This pretty little thing is gonna call an Uber if you don’t take her to your bedroom,” you comment, smiling sarcastically at him. He chuckles, his head turning away from you before coming back to look you in the eye. His eyes seem to darken, his hand finding your throat, squeezing just enough to add pressure but not enough for you to be unable to breathe.
“I don’t think you realize who’s in charge here, kitten.”
The feeling of his hand wrapped around your throat caused a whole new feeling to erupt in your body. The excitement you had before was nothing compared to this. And his words confirmed just how rough he was, you prayed he wasn’t all bark and no bite.
“Then show me.”
And show you he would.
~
A/N: Eeeeek! I’m so happy I had the motivation to finish editing this chapter. I added a good bit and I have a whole plan for how this book will turn out. It pretty much end up the same but it’ll be focused on you - the reader - a little more. Also I lost my taglist so
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quindolyn · 3 years
Note
Ma’am i am begging for a wolfstar blurb where Remus has a innocence kink and Sirius has a corruption kink
With love, my vagina
Dumb Bunny || Remus Lupin and Sirius Black
Word Count: 4,553
A/N: I hope you like this Bo, you’re my favorite and you know that. I also wrote like 90% of this in one sitting so I don’t know if it’s any good because you usually i take breaks and come back and look at what I’ve written but who knows. Love you so much my love.
Warnings: degradtion, praise, names like slut and dumb, blow job, oral virgin, dogg style, this is post Azkaban kinda
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Kneeling at Remus’ feet staring up at the outline of his cock pressing up against his pants was daunting. You’d never actually given head before, had guys asked? Sure, but it had just never seemed worth the trouble, you’d never actually gotten a good look at any of their pricks because as soon as you’d nixed a blow job they were desperate to get inside of you.
Not that that had been all that great either, but you digress. 
You watched with wide eyes as his nimble fingers moved to the button on his slacks, pulling it through the hole before unzipping his zipper which allowed his slacks to drop and pool at his ankles. 
This left him in only his navy boxers which allowed you to get a much better look at the outline of his cock, you could almost see the ridges of the head as it was jostled around when he stepped out of his pants, kicking them to the side as he repositioned himself in front of you. 
You sat there, unmoving as you stared down his cock, not quite sure what to do now.
“Come on Pup, don’t tell me that you’re so clueless that you don’t know what to do with a cock when its been laid out in front of you,” Sirius sniped from where he stood, leaning nonchalantly against the wall as his eyes raked over your figure, clad only in the pair of pale pink panties and matching bra that you had put on hours earlier. “Don’t tell me that you’re that useless.”
“M’not useless,” You grumbled, casting your eyes down in shame, “I just, I’ve never done this before.”
“Speak up there Pup,” Remus commanded gently, slipping two strong fingers under your jaw to tilt your head up so that you could meet his gaze, “Can’t hear you when you mumble, and s’not nice to not look at someone when you’re talking to them.”
“M’sorry sir,” You apologized, trying to keep your eyes on his and not on his ever growing bulge, still straining against the material of his boxers, “I was just saying that,” You gulped, casting a sidelong glance at Sirius before moving your eyes back to meet Remus’, “I’ve never done this before.”
“Never done what before?” Sirius asked from off to the side, his smirk evident in his voice as he moved to stand next to Remus, “Come on bunny, wanna hear you say it.”
You looked up at Remus with pleading eyes but it was clear he wasn’t going to call his dog off, “I’ve never given head before, I’ve never sucked…” You felt your face heat up as you trailed off at the implication of your words.
“Oh come on,” Sirius chuckled, kneeling next to you so that you were of equal height, “Don’t get shy on me now, you can say the word puppy, I know you can.”
You found yourself not mortified by his condescending matter but rather ridiculously turned on, you could already feel a knot begin to form in your belly.
Sirius kept his eyes trained on you expectantly until you finally relented, “Cock,” As the single word slipped from your mouth you felt embarrassment bloom in your belly which was silly really, it was only just a word.
“Come on now, all together,” The dark haired man grinned mischievously.
“I’ve never sucked cock,” You admitted bashfully, looking to Remus to measure his reaction. You were nervous, not only had you never sucked someone off before but both men were a decade older than you with more sexual experience. What if you weren’t good, or you couldn’t take them and triggered your gag reflex? With all of these thoughts swimming around in your head it was hard to form a coherent thought and that was purely from nervousness, you couldn’t imagine what it would be like when you had them inside of you.
He had to restrain himself from groaning, both at your words and the innocent look on your face as you gazed up at him, “You’ve had sex though right baby? We’re not gonna take your virginity are we?” He asked, because if he and his lover were about to be your first time it was going to have to be a whole lot more special than this.
You were quick to shake your head, “No, I’ve had sex, I’m not a virgin.”
“Well in this hole you are,” Sirius captured your jaw, turning it to face him. His thumb brushed against the seal of your lips in a nonverbal command for you to open them, which you did of course.
You watched with wide eyes as Sirius gathered spit in his mouth before he spat it into your mouth, the taste of him bleeding across the expanse of your tongue. 
“Let me see Pup,” Sirius commanded as you stuck your tongue out, allowing him to see his spit on your tongue before he gave you your next direction, “Good girl, now swallow.”
Not as restrained a man as Remus he did groan watching your throat with an unguarded lust that had you shivering at the idea of what thoughts laid behind that gaze.
“Pads is right, you’re a very good girl,” Remus praised, directing your attention back towards him. Your mouth dropped open at the sight you were met with, Remus’ stiff cock standing proud and tall in front of your face with his hand wrapped around it.
“Am I going to suck your cock?” You asked, wide eyed and slightly concerned as you gazed up at Remus. Though his dick was prettier than you anticipated with its bright red, leaking tip, and the ridges caused by the veins that ran along the sides it was absolutely mouth watering, but the idea of fitting that in your mouth was nothing less than nerve wracking.
He let out a low chuckle, one of his strong hands moving to brush your hair out of your face, his eyes trained on your lips, “No, not yet baby. Gonna wrap those pretty lips around Sirius he’s a little bit smaller, it’ll make it easier for you.”
You heard Sirius grumble in discontent at the comment as he pushed himself up to undo the buckle of his belt, shedding both his trousers and boxers with far less dignity than his counterpart. Though yes, he was a bit smaller, it didn’t appear to be a significant difference and did little to soothe your woes about your potential performance. 
“Don’t worry Poppet, m’gonna teach you how to suck his dick. It's not hard I promise,” The tall man knelt beside you, his hand still on his prick as he smeared a kiss along your temple. You allowed your eyes to close at the contact, leaning into the touch as Remus guided one of your hands to his cock. It practically jumped into your grasp as oppositely charged magnets would attract each other. 
Though you’d given a hand job before Remus’ much larger, scarred hand found its way to encase your’s, guiding you through the motions of pumping up and down the shaft.
“How about me?” Sirius sounded petulant, like a child, but there was absolutely nothing child like about the way his dick rested heavily in the palm of his hand, he wasn’t as long as Remus but what he lacked in length he made up for in girth. The head of his member was more purple than red, though it leaked just as ferociously with the beginning drops of precum.
“He’s right Puppy,” Remus told you, pulling his lips away from your temple so that you would be forced to support the weight of your head on your own and meet his eyesight, “Gonna teach you how to give a blow job, okay?”
You nodded your head, “Yes, Sir.”
Impatience radiated off of the man who stood before you, the head of his cock staring you down, before you could talk yourself out of action you reached out and took the shaft in your hand, getting used to how it sat heftily in your hand.
“You’re gonna want to spit in your hand first Pup, it’ll make it easier,” Remus suggested, his length still secure in his own hand. You followed your instructions, switching Sirius’ member to your nondominant hand while you spat into the other one before resuming your previous hold.
Gazing up at him as you worked your hand up and down the length of his shaft you noticed the way his eyes were entirely consumed by lust, shining grey irises now black, blending in with his pupils.
“Use your thumb to smear the precum baby, like that,” Remus continued to coach you, watching as you ran your thumb over the sensitive head of Sirius’ member and how he jolted at the motion, “See he likes it.”
“Do you? Do you like it, Daddy?” You peered up at him through your eyelashes, cocking your head to the side without ever relenting the movement of your hand, “Am I doing a good job?”
Remus groaned from beside you, his gaze having left the dick in your hand, now landing on your face. Sirius simply smirked, dark curtains of hair framing his visage, the mere sight of him looming above you was enough to make you embarrassingly turned on, feeling pleasure begin to simmer in your belly you could only imagine how it would feel when you had him in your mouth.
“You’re doing a very good job Puppy,” It was Remus who spoke this time, “But it looks like Pads might be a little desperate to get his cock in your mouth, you think you’re ready?”
“I think so,” You nodded.
That was all Sirius needed before he was releasing his member from your hold, gripping his hand around it pumping it once, then twice before bringing the head to rest on your bottom lip. Tracing the seal of your lips with the weeping head of his prick he spoke, “Come on Puppy, wanna be the first cock in that pretty little mouth of yours.”
“You heard him (Y/N), open your mouth, time to take his cock.” Remus said from beside you.
“B-But I’ve never done this before, how am I supposed to know what to do?”
Getting more and more frustrated with the fact his prick still wasn’t in your mouth Sirius began shifting his weight from foot to foot anxiously.
“Don’t worry, it’s gonna be alright,” The werewolf soothed you, running his fingers through your tresses, “Gonna help you.”
Glancing over at Remus for one last confirmation you didn’t realize what Sirius was doing until it was too late and his member was making contact with your cheek as he slapped it against the side of your face, streaking precum across your skin, “Hurry up slut.”
You whimpered at the degradation of both his words and his action as you felt a pang of pleasure zip through your body, shivering at the filthiness of it. You shifted in your spot, trying to rub your thighs together to soothe some of the ache that resided there and that wasn’t showing any indication of relenting but neither of the older men were having it.
“Stop that,” Sirius growled, capturing your jaw in his hand, pushing your cheeks together so that your lips were forced open, “Not about you right now, you’re supposed to be getting me off,” With that, having lost all patience he pushed the head of his cock into your mouth, releasing a strangled groan as he stopped himself from pushing in deeper. 
Remus let out a small chuckle shifting so that he was closer to you, “There you go Poppet, just start with the head. You wanna be sure to keep your teeth tucked away so that you don’t hurt him,” Leaning in closer towards your ear he added something else in a low whisper, “We can do that later, yeah?”
You let out a small giggle, which because it was muffled by the cock sitting inside of your mouth sent vibrations of pleasure through Sirius, starting at the head of his member and working their way up the shaft. Unable to control himself he bucked into your mouth, not considerably deep but deep enough to jar you. 
“Careful Si,” Remus scolded gently, one of his hands going to grip Sirius’ bare thigh as a reminder not to rush. Looking at you he saw the tears brimming in your eyes at the sudden and unexpected motion, “Puppy,” He cooed, caressing the side of your face with his knuckles, “Gotta breathe through your nose, do you know how to do that baby?”
Shaking your head gently you were careful to keep your teeth tucked away behind your lips while still signaling that you had no clue what you were doing. 
“Are you choking on my cock?” Sirius mocked you, the concerned tone of voice so sickly sweet it was nauseating, “Not even doing anything with it, just sitting there in your mouth and you can’t even take it,” He thrusted up gently into your mouth, just enough for the head of his cock to brush up against the roof of your mouth as cause you to gag around his length.
“Be nice Sirius,” Remus seethed through gritted teeth, glaring up at him while he pet your hair, grounding you as you focused on inhaling and exhaling through your nostrils. Concentrating on that helped you to calm your gag reflex, no longer having a problem with how his member was positioned in your mouth.
“Daddy can be mean can’t he?” Remus directed his attention towards you, his tone was so falsely sympathetic that it worsened the need bubbling up inside of you as the pleasure in your stomach continued to simmer. 
You stopped yourself from nodding again, this time letting out an affirmative hum which pleased Remus as he watched Sirius’ hips stutter as he refrained from forcing his length all the way down your throat.
“You can suck harder bunny, it’ll feel good and he’ll tell you if something hurts or doesn’t feel good, gotta trust him to do that.”
Taking his advice you sucked more harshly at the member inside of your mouth, swirling your tongue around the head while looking up at him to gauge his reaction, he was still looking down at you, unblinking as though if he lost sight of you for even a moment the pleasure would stop. 
Remus slid his body behind yours so that your back was pressed to his chest with his cock achingly pressing into your bareback, smearing precum along your skin.
“Gotta hollow your cheeks Pup, like this,” His fingers found their way to either side of your face, pressing gently on your cheeks until he could feel the cock inside of your mouth. “It’ll feel good for him, make it tighter like it would be if he was fucking your cunt.”
One hand quickly abandoned your face, sliding its way down your stomach until his fingers were brushing the top of your lacy panties before slipping just his fingertips beneath the material. He simply cupped your pussy possessively, not working his fingers between your folds or into your hole, but just resting there, clutching you.
“Fuck Moons,” Sirius gritted, “She’s a fucking natural, hollowing her cheeks so prettily for me it’s like fucking her actual cunt.”
You whined at his words, squirming once again trying to relieve the ache burning between your thighs, the way he spoke to Remus, to Sir, like you weren’t even there. It was deliciously objectifying, degrading, and you loved it. 
Remus smiled into your neck as he moved to nip at your ear, the contact subtle, but still enough to have you shivering as pleasure tickled at your nerves which felt frayed and exposed, with every motion, every exhale against your skin it was like on fire had been set to each of them individually.
“Gonna make him feel even better now poppet, bob your head up and down and you’re gonna take your hand,” He took one of your hands, which had been resting on your thigh, and guided it to the base of Sirius’ member, “Just move it a little bit, on what you’re not able to fit into your mouth, don’t wanna neglect it.” 
Following his instructions you worked the exposed length of him in your hand as you bobbed your head up and down the rest, taking about half of his cock into the velvety warmth of your mouth. Running the brunt of your tongue along his shaft you acted upon the courage you felt surge through you, using the hand not at the base of his cock to grapple at his balls. 
You were more than pleased with the strangled moan that fell from Sirius’ lips, you’d gotten groans out of him earlier but not a moan. Remus noted this as well, his mouth still pressed against your ear, “Look at that, he’s so pretty with his head thrown back like that, moaning, and all because of your mouth.” 
One of his fingers found your bottom lip which was dripping with saliva, and he ran the pad of his finger along the cushion of your lip, pressing gently. 
“How’s it feel, Pads?” Remus looked up at the other man.
“She was born to suck cock,” He exhaled sharply as you took him deeper in your mouth, making a point to continue to hollow your cheeks.
The hand cupping your sex slid a finger between your folds, collecting your wetness on a singular digit causing you to jump at the contact before you rolled your hips towards his hand nonverbally begging for more.
Moving his lips to suck dark purple hues into the delicate flesh of your neck Remus spoke into your skin, “Once you make Daddy cum then it's your turn Bunny, don’t be greedy, you gotta give before you get.”
Taking his words at face value you became even more determined to make Daddy cum, knowing that not only would it be a personal feat, your first blow job, but that when it was done you would be getting so much more.
Breathing in sharply through your nose you willed your gag reflex not to act up as you pushed your head down on his cock, taking in as much of Sirius as you could which you were pleased to see that it was a majority of his length inside of your mouth by the time you hit your limit. 
You sucked more harshly at his member, swirling your tongue around what you could before Remus rose from where he had rested behind you, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head before moving to stand next to Sirius. You whimpered when his fingers slipped from your cunt but were intrigued as you watched through your lashes. Observing as Remus’ hands slipped under the smaller man’s shirt, palms running up and down the toned planes of his stomach as he meshed his lips with the other man’s.
You were unsure but you thought that you heard a command for Sirius to rid himself of his shirt as he quickly undid the buttons, letting the dress shirt fall to the floor with Remus’ quickly following suit.
Watching the two men make out with each other, Remus’ hands nestling themselves in Sirius’ long hair and Sirius’ gripping at Remmy’s bare ass, spurred you on in your efforts to make him cum.
Adjusting Siri’s length so that it sat comfortably in your throat and that so you could feel where it bulged against your throat before you swallowed around his length.
If the feeling of his load being shot down your throat wasn’t indication enough that your little trick had done the job then the sharp, “Fuck” the man released from above you certainly was. 
You swallowed his cum just as you had his spit before easing yourself off of his length, taking extra care to keep your teeth from his sensitive cock. Looking up at him with wide eyes you watched him lay his head on Remus’ chest as marks similar to the ones left on your neck were left on his, and though yours were beginning to feel a bit tender you knew that Sirius was loving his as much as you were loving yours.
“Did I do a good job Daddy?” You looked up at him owlishly, cocking your head to the side.
“Fuck Moons if you don’t fuck her I will,” Was all you got in response as Remus chuckled into the newly bruised skin of his lover pulling away to assess you. 
He frowned looking at you as he noticed that you were still in your underwear, “Up,” He ordered, once you were on your feet he was in front of you in a single stride, strong, scarred arms were extending around your torso to undo the clasp of your bra, pulling the straps off of your shoulders allowing the garment to fall to the floor before kneeling in front of you to tug your panties down which you then stepped out of.
“On the bed,” He ordered simply, your panties hanging from the crook of his finger as he moved to deposit them in the pocket of his blazer, cock bobbing in the air as he moved about the room.
Positioning yourself on the bed, on your hands and knees you caught a glimpse of Sirius lounging on an armchair in the room, cock resting against his thigh as he recovered from his first orgasm of the night. He shot you a lazy smile before raking his eyes along your form, studying each ripple and ridge hungrily. 
On your hands and knees, you felt uncomfortably vulnerable but you knew it was all worth it when you felt Remus settle in behind you, his hands moving to grip your hips and pull you back towards his pelvis.
You pushed your bum back towards Remus as you felt the head of his cock run through your soaking folds, you were almost embarrassed by how wet sucking Sirius off had made you but you couldn’t quite summon the energy.
“Don’t rush bunny, I got you, I promise,” With one hand guiding his cock and the other anchoring you to him he pushed just the head of his member inside of you. You clenched around him, trying to suck more of his length up into you because though you technically had him you needed more.
Not feeling particularly patient himself Remus wasted no time before pushing the entirety of his length inside of you, growling as your cunt pulsed around him. 
“Sir!” You moaned feeling yourself stretch around him, having never taken his cock before you weren’t ready for the way that he stretched you so wide it was bordering on painful just barely avoiding tipping over the edge. 
Allowing you a moment to adjust to his length he pulled out of you until his member barely rested inside of you before thrusting himself all the way back in. A hand running down your back signaled for you to arch your back for him which of course you did.
His pace was fast but deep, the depth of his strokes consistent as he reached depths inside of you you hadn’t even known existed before. Pistoning his hips in and out of you the rhythmic sound of skin slapping up against skin filled the room and you could feel his balls slapping up against your clit which each and every thrust.
“Pretty bunny,” Remus’ low voice sounded through the room, accompanied by the sounds of your skin against each other as he leaned back to watch his member disappear in you before pulling back out, “Such a pretty bunny for me, so sweet and innocent aren’t you?”
“Yes Sir,” You responded, allowing your head to drop and hang as you fell onto your elbows rather than your hands.
Sirius tutted as he rose from his seat in the corner, his beautifully tattooed body still glistening with sweat as he began pumping his cock while walking towards you, “Please, she’s not a pretty bunny, she’s a little cum slut. Dumb little bunny.”
You whined out at his degradation, your eyes squeezed shut as a wave of pleasure coursed through you causing you to let out a ragged breath. 
“See, she likes it, dumb bunny.” Though you couldn’t see him you were sure that he was grinning wickedly down at you.
“No m’not! I’m a pretty bunny,” You insisted, though your message was a bit undercut as you slurred your words.
“That’s right, pretty bunny,” Remus cooed, groping the globes of your ass in his hands, squeezing the flesh before pulling away to observe the handprints he left on your skin, if only for a moment.
“She wants to be, but she’s not, she’s just a cock hungry slut.” Sirius countered and you looked up at him with pleading eyes, desperately seeking his approval but all you got was a sneer as he pumped his cock next to your face.
“Not nice, Sir says you’re mean,” You whined as Remus continued to thrust in and out of you, rather enjoying watching the interaction between his two lovers.
“Oh is that right? Well, I don’t fucking care if I’m mean, you’re a dumb fuck bunny and if telling you that is mean then oh well,” He grasped your jaw in between his hand, forcing your head up at an uncomfortable angle to make eye contact with you, “Guess I’m mean.”
The whine you released at that was perhaps the most pathetic of the night, you felt pathetic at the gush of wetness you felt at his words, the pleasure in your belly progressing from a simmer to a boil as Remus’ hand reached around to find your clit, pinching the sensitive bundle of nerves between his thumb and forefinger.
“Don’t listen to him,” The man buried deep inside of your cunt told you, “You’re my pretty bunny, keep on being my pretty bunny, prove Daddy wrong.”
It was all too much, the contrast between Remus’ praising words and Sirius’ harsh ones, the sight of Sirius’ tattooed hand working up and down his shaft, Remus’ pace in and out of you and his hand on your clit. 
It was just all too much.
You could barely see straight as the pleasure boiling in your belly overflowed, like hot lava flowing you felt pleasure flow through your veins as you climaxed. Your orgasm left you feeling warm in every nook and cranny as your eyes rolled back into your head. It felt like you were underwater as your thoughts swam around you, mingling with the noises in the room around you.
Your head was still heavy as you opened your eyes which you hadn’t realized you’d squeezed shut, you jolted forward as Remus continued moving in and out of your pussy, trying to get away from his cock. Your orgasm had been electrifying leaving you sensitive but Remus didn’t seem to be relenting.
“Don’t recall telling you you could cum Poppet,” Remus said from behind you, and that’s when you realized why he wasn’t stopping, “Maybe Daddy was right, maybe you are just a dumb bunny.”
tagging: @randomoutsiders @weasleyposts @amourtentiaa @kittykylax @superbturtlemakerathlete
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gyukult · 3 years
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after midnight 05 || jjk & reader
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title: after midnight 05 - tonight pairing: jeon jungkook x reader genre: angst, smut, fluff, fwb!au, fuckboy!jk, doctor!reader word count: 6.6k warnings: bad words !! jk mostly just explicit language. no smut. a/n: ruh roh yeah no smut !! i decided to go without it this time because of the ✧plot✧ and wanted to focus more on that!! hope you guys still enjoy and read it without the freaky. :) (also next chapter is the last chapter. bye.)
He likes the colors red and black.
His favorite foods are donuts, grilled pork (wrapped in lettuce, a clove of garlic, a splat of red pepper paste while dipped into that sauce with the sesame oil or the one with the soy sauce), and he enjoys a good combo of the corn dog—half hot dog, half mozzarella cheese—and he rates the cheese pulls out 10; he even writes the name of the store, location, his order, and the ‘cheese pull rating scale’ in the notes of his phone.
He sniffles a lot, something about his nose that makes him do it frequently, but he does this thing where his nose scrunches up and the space between his brows crinkles while a finger does a quick swipe underneath despite nothing coming out.
Apparently, he’s got a black belt in taekwondo (you have yet to ask him to show you some moves), and he’s a ‘pro-gamer’ (his words, not yours). He does this weird thing when he’s focused on something; occasionally bites down the flesh of his bottom lip, or sticks out tongue with a furrow of his brows, only blinking between five minute intervals (you’ve actually timed this). And when he uses the bathroom, he has this strange habit of having to double check to see if he already flushed, even if you tell him that you heard the water go down. He has to watch it himself.
It’s peculiar that you’ve suddenly learned all these things about him, despite just weeks before, you told yourself that you didn’t even know Jungkook like that. The only thing you knew about him was that he’s got this “fuck-it” attitude, but when you uncover that blanket of a reputation that you assumed, he’s… more than just that.
He vaguely mentions that he wants to open a tattoo parlor, but he’s got a bolder, stronger goal of opening his own duck meat restaurant within the next ten years. It’s not fitting to his… vibe, so to speak, the tattoo parlor is more appropriate, but the way his face lights up at the thought of having his own duck meat restaurant is… sweet. Makes him seem less like an asshole.
As much as you resent yourself for admitting this, you’re warming up to the idea of Jungkook being your boyfriend. It’s not impossible, you’re beginning to realize, but it doesn’t help that there’s some hesitance in making a decision as big as that. Jeon Jungkook as your boyfriend? Pft. Sounds crazy.
The trait about Jungkook that you favor is that he’s honest. Even if it’s a rude statement, an opinion that you absolutely do not agree with, and even if it’s completely indecorous, he’s still purely honest. He doesn’t lie, and you know that he might not be lying about that girl that was in his apartment, his reputation still stands.
But sometimes, Jungkook can be honest but you still have no idea what’s going through his head.
You don’t get Jeon Jungkook.
It’s so complicated, yet at the same time, everything he wants and expects is laid out in front of you. He’s like a secret agent, only that he has his tools placed on the table for all the showcasing purposes and you still can’t understand what his plan is.
“When is your sister’s wedding?” He queries one day, lounging on your couch in the living room. He hasn’t probed you for much lately about the relationship, but to be quite fair, you’ve dropped pretty much every guy you’ve had romantic connections with in lieu of just… spending an oddly large amount of time with him instead. “Is it going to be back in your hometown?”
“Mm,” you hum in agreement quietly, paying attention solely on the television and the channels you’re browsing through. “It’s about two weeks from now. Really, I should be going home this weekend to prepare, but the hospital has been busy lately so I’m going to work.”
Jungkook furrows his brows. “Her wedding is two weeks from now and you’re just telling me?”
You turn to look at him, blinking blankly. “W—Is it supposed to matter?”
“Yeah, I’d like to be your plus one, if you don’t mind. Unless… you were planning on going alone?”
Melting into the couch, you sigh while carding your fingers through your loosened locks. After the last encounter, your family has been blowing up your phone nonstop about the true nature of yours and Jungkook’s relationship. Was he paid to be your date for one weekend? Were the two of you just friends? Did you already scare him and he broke it off? ‘He’s sweet,” you remember your mother saying on the phone one afternoon. ‘Can you try to seem more appealing so he could take your friendship to the next level?’ Because she still doesn’t think that you guys could ever be something serious.
But to be quite frank, you didn’t either. It had nothing to do with you, though, more of Jungkook and the reputation that precedes him. You still had your doubts, especially that night you came to his apartment and saw her there, and although he consistently denies having any relations with her, part of you is a bit… sad about it. As possessive as it sounds, he was supposed to be yours, and the fact that she came into his apartment so easily didn’t sit well in your stomach.
“It’s not that, I just…” you inhale sharply, sucking in your cheeks in thought. “Do you genuinely want to go? Like why do you want to go? I mean, yeah, if you don’t go, it’ll prove everything my family has been theorizing about having a fake relationship, but… I don’t want to force you.”
“I feel like I’m a broken record. I said I’d try to be your boyfriend. So of course I’m going to want to be your date for your sister’s wedding. Plus, I can… see what this wedding hype is that everyone is talking about.”
You snort. “You’ve never been to a wedding?”
“Eh. I have, I just… always tried landing dates on them. So I never really got to enjoy that actual event.”
There’s no harm in bringing him as your date, is there?
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There’s harm in everything.
For one, you didn’t expect Jungkook to attract this much attention here. He’s got a suit that you’ve never seen him wear before, hugging his body in all the right places with his hair slicked back with a comma curl brushing against his forehead. Jungkook doesn’t notice you in the crowd, busy keeping himself busy by conversing with some of your relatives, and you’d be lying if you didn’t admit that he stole the breath in your lungs at that very moment. Brows crinkled in curiosity, lips pink like they’ve been stained with strawberry juices paired with a smile that nearly ropes in the hearts of all those around him, this sight of Jungkook from this distance does the same to you.
God, he always looked so good but today, he wasn’t.. Hot, he was more than that. He was… handsome, beautiful—all of the above.
This was bad. This was so bad because you’re sinking in quicksand disguised with the ways of Jeon Jungkook and the thing you least imagined to happen is starting to happen. You need to grab on something, someone, anywhere where there’s a branch of hope to get you out, but you’re in too deep.
You might… actually like Jeon Jungkook.
But before you could get lost in your thoughts, your sister snaps you out of it with a panicked whine. You could hear her through the walls of your house—and although you’re not the maid of honor, the person she picks for it isn’t exactly the most reliable either. She isn’t quite equipped for a pressuring scenario, and well… a wedding is a taxing event.
“Yuri!” She wails, stomping her feet against the carpeted floors of her childhood bedroom. Yuri gets hit with a tsunami of worry washed over her face as Suji turns her head with the scariest expression on her face—like a tiger going after its prey. “I thought I asked you to take care of this!”
“I’m sorry,” she responds, voice quivering as she gets on her knees. You furrow your brows at the motion, unsure what to make of what she might potentially do next. “I’m trying…”
“Suji, what’s happening?”
“There’s a stain on my dress, and Yuri was supposed to make sure it’s in perfect condition!”
“She’s your friend, not your servant. Here—” you gesture one of the bridesmaids over and hand her the key fob to your car. “Grab the tide to-go pen in the glove compartment. We’ll try that first and if that doesn’t work, I’m sure mom has something in the laundry room.”
Suji is huffing and puffing, smoke practically whistling out her ears with her arms crossed over her chest, veil draping over her shoulders and dress dragging along behind her. She’s so pretty today, despite all the anger boiling in her blood, but she looks like an angel from heaven. “Don’t be sad, lil sis. It’s just a little stain. It’ll get stained worse anyways when you walk down the aisle in grass to your future hubby.”
“OK, but this day needs to be perfect. I had a binder that planned everything out since I was in middle school—” Suji is the epitome of what you described as those girls at that age, and she’s currently living the dream of being able to make it happen. “—and it has to be what it looks like. Sure, I upgraded the tacky stuff to find me at my age, but I need it to be… that.”
“It doesn’t have to be that.”
“It does!” She exclaims, a foot slamming into the floor that’s only cushioned to muffle the sound. “If he’s going to be my forever, then today is the only day that I can make this my day.”
“Right, but you also forget that it’s his day too. And not to mention that it’s possibly the only time you’re going to get married, so you want this day to be great. So instead of wasting your time throwing a tantrum like an actual middle schooler, how about we just make this day as lovely as we can and reminisce on the good memories instead of creating bad ones.”
Her tongue pokes the inside of her cheek. “I guess… you’re right. I love him, and I know that he’s the ‘one’ so…” She sighs, shoulders dropping along with the look on her face. “I just want it to be perfect. Imagine our kids in the future, turning the pages of our photo album. I want it to be perfect, to be special—“
“You keep saying ‘perfect’ when in reality, they’re just gonna wanna see their parents happy on their wedding day. They’re not gonna care that their mom has a tiny dirt stain on her dress, or if the flowers aren’t the exact shade of lavender that you wanted. They’re gonna be focused on those smiles plastered on your faces—grinning from ear to ear, big teeth in everyone’s faces.” You steal a seat on the stool beside your sister, fingers fiddling on your lap. “You’re living your dream. Sure, not everything is going to go by the book tonight, but the fact that it’s pretty damn close is good enough.”
She nods; tears begin to well up in her eyes and you groan. “Don’t cry, you’re gonna ruin your makeup!”
“I just—“ She snatches a tissue from a box nearby, dabbing the inner corners of her eyes to catch the tears before they fall. “That was good advice. And… I’ll take you up for it, that is… if you’ll take up on mine.”
Well… that’s different.
“Uh, what do you mean?”
Suji frowns. “I’m your little sister, but I’m not that little and I’m also not that dumb.” You tilt your head in confusion, uncertain where she was leading the conversation. “Remember back a couple months ago, when I came to visit you, my big sis, in the big city, living out her big dreams?”
“Uh… yeah?”
“And, despite your constant denial of being with someone, I still saw that bright look on your face whenever your phone lit up with a specific name that spread across the screen?”
You grimace. “I did not look like that.”
“Well, in comparison to now, I would say that during that time, it was a bit dim because now you look like the brightest star in the sky. I know… I know that you and Jungkook were uh… not really a fling, but not really a couple either.”
Intriguing, because you never showed any signs of this but Suji picked this up? “When you went to work that one day, he came by your place while I was staying there.” Your face drops. “OK, but before you get all pissy, hear me out.”
“Jeon Jungkook stopped by my apartment… as a fuck buddy, while my sister was there.”
“Right but—“
“What the hell!”
“I said listen!” Although you want to counter back, it’s her special day after all, and starting a fight with your sister on her wedding day isn’t the most ideal scenario. “I uh, he might’ve not realized it then, but he’s been smitten with you since then. Well, before, really, since it seemed like it wasn’t the first time he looked that way.”
Annoyed, it’s your turn to cross your arms. “Like what?”
“Like he wanted to impress me because he liked you.”
This is new. You can’t help but snort a laugh, the back of your hand covering your face in utter shock, shaking your head in disbelief at her observation. “Where are you going with this?”
She shrugs, pursing her lips as her eyes skim her bedroom. “That… I’m glad you finally took him in as your boyfriend officially. I know you’ve always advocated for being a career woman, but there’s no harm in being both a career woman and being in love. You don’t have to be those people who are dependent on their significant other, like mom, but you can just be… you when you’re with him. He can take care of you, and you can take care of him. Goes both ways.” Her eyes eventually meet yours. “I see the way he looks at you. He’s not the type of person like mom is, expecting you to toss everything you’ve worked hard for just to be a housewife. He likes you for… you. Potentially even love.”
There’s that l word again, the word that slipped off the tip of your tongue so carelessly during a night of intoxication. You weren’t even that drunk, you have to admit, because it was only a couple shots, but something in you spurred the words out like vomit. Jungkook has yet to confront you about it, and it only makes you feel queasy just thinking about what he’d potentially say.
“I… Maybe, I don’t know,” you sigh, watching outside the window to see the bridesmaid that you sent on a mission run back in a frenzy, probably fearing that your sister has transformed into Bridezilla once more. “Maybe I need a sweeter guy, one that has a decent job, shares a lot of things in common with me, and one day wants to settle.”
Suji furrows her brows. “Jungkook is sweet. When you went to the bathroom the other day, Horny—” Suji clears her throat, eyes scanning the room to confirm that your cousin isn’t there, “—Horny Hyunae tried pulling a move on him and he was quick to just reiterate once more that he’s yours and not hers. He’s sweet, sis, you’re just too scared to see it. And a decent job doesn’t mean he has to be a doctor. Imagine you being with another doctor. You guys would probably rarely meet. Plus, not all couples have to be a replica of each other—wouldn’t that be boring? And… And Jungkook… maybe he’s not confident right now, but if he really wanted to be with you and you wanted to settle, he’d at least take it into consideration. So… why can’t you fully put yourself in a relationship with him and give it a go? Not just use the term ‘boyfriend’ loosely, but… treat him like he’s your boyfriend, because he is.”
Before you could formulate a response, the bridesmaid is already up the stairs, panting as she hands you back the key fob while waving the tide to-go pen. “I got it!”
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“There you are,” Jungkook has a glass of champagne in hand, the liquid courage halfway full, with his other hand dug deep into the pockets of his trousers. “I’ve been waiting all this time for you. Met up with your sister?”
“Uh, yeah,” you nod, realizing that the two of you are matching in black attire. You’ve opted for a silky midnight dress, one that follows your silhouette almost tightly, and Jungkook would be lying if he didn’t say that he was watching you the entire time as you made your way toward him. “She was unleashing the demon inside of her because there was a minor stain on her dress. Worked out though, she’s calmer now.”
“Mm,” he hums, mimicking your nod. “Hope you’re not like that on our wedding day.”
You freeze.
There’s something weird about hearing Jungkook say ‘our’ instead of just ‘your’ with the word ‘wedding’ trailing behind it because it’s not… your wedding he’s thinking about, it’s the both of you. The thought of Jungkook standing at the alter, patiently waiting for your appearance down the aisle—fuck, erase erase. You shouldn’t even be thinking about anything of that nature, especially not since you haven’t even claimed Jungkook as your boyfriend officially. It’s too soon. It’s way too soon. He’s still a fuckboy.
Right?
Right.
Or so, you think. He’s different these days, and you say that quite often, but he’s truly been… different. He’s actually been toning down, trying to be less intolerable, but enough that he’s still himself. The other day, he made a flirtatious comment about your ass, but when a passerby complimented a girl standing inside the store, Jungkook glanced for a brief second but didn’t even bat a lash. He didn’t try getting her number, approaching her to compete with the other guy to ‘state his dominance.’ He just… stood by you, holding the menu in hand for you to see more clearly and asked, “are you sure you don’t want to get the spicier one?”
It’s even stranger that the two of you hang out casually now. Before, it’d be a quick booty call, sleep over, and that’s it. Wake up the next morning, shuffle to get your clothes on and make your way to work.
But now, he comes straight after work to your place, offers to either help cook dinner or stop by somewhere to grab something and stays the night.
Who the fuck is this guy?
You definitely need a drink. Eyes zooming directly on the glass in his hand, you don’t hesitate to snatch it and give it a swing. Jungkook isn’t fazed by this, using his now vacant hand to stuff into the other pocket. “I have a scar now from the stab,” he states nonchalantly, inspecting the look on your face. You’re without a doubt troubled, fighting with whatever thoughts it is inside of your head, and he assumes that it’s from your sister being married and not you, so his goal is to create some type of distraction. “I thought you said I wouldn’t get any scars from your stitching.”
“I never said that,” you roll your eyes. “I said it’ll make the scarring results a bit better. Why? You don’t like my work?”
“No, I love your work,” he responds, and that l word haunts you worse than a demon in those horror movies. “I just figured I would try to keep your mind off things by bringing it up.”
“Off what things?”
“You know,” he shrugs. “Your sister is getting married. I know you wanted to get married, and the stigma is that the older sibling is supposed to get married first, and there’s that superstition that if the younger one gets married before the older one, the older one won’t ever get married.”
Is… that what he thinks you’ve been so lost about?
It’s sort of endearing, hearing the way he talks about making attempts to create a shift in conversation so that you’re not feeling conflicted about being at your sister’s wedding. Because in reality, he’s the one occupying your mind. He’s taken over like a plague, infiltrating all your thoughts, to the point that when you’re grabbing boba tea from the shop around the corner for your apartment, your head immediately directs to ‘Is Jungkook over? Does he want a cup?’ And when you know he’d be over for the night, you don’t forget to put that extra towel on the hook in the bathroom for him when he showers. Or even making sure you have a couple water bottles in the fridge because Jungkook prefers to drink water cold than room temperature.
“Oh, I uh, I’m not really so worried about that,” you mention, rubbing your nape awkwardly. “They’re just superstitions.”
“Good, because they are. Your sister is about to get married and I still want to be with you.”
You nearly choke on the champagne, mid-sip and Jungkook rubs your back soothingly. “You alright?”
“Sorry, I just… I wasn’t sure if I heard that right.”
“Yeah, you did. I uh… I still mean what I said, even though this is entirely a new territory for me. I don’t want to say that we technically are boyfriend and girlfriend, but we’re literally at each other’s places everyday, I even have a spare toothbrush sitting on your sink. So… I hope that in comfort, that superstition doesn’t play when it comes to you. I still want to… be with you.”
You don’t get a chance to slip in a response because the music begins to play, and you and Jungkook quickly claim the seats in the front row.
It’s beautiful, you have to admit, all this effort that your sister put into this day has really been worth it. Your childhood home’s backyard doesn’t feel like it today—today, it’s her wedding venue.
The flowers are a beautiful shade of lavender (her favorite color), and they cascade down the armrests of the seats that line the aisle, with matching ribbons that tie around the backings on top of the white cloth that cover the chairs. Her future husband stands at the front, hands probably sweaty and heart racing like he’s just run a marathon. And the way his eyes light up at the sight of your sister, at the other end of the aisle with her arm linked with your dad’s, your heart swells.
The little flower girl that tosses the petals into the air practically dances on her route, and the ring bearer can barely walk without falling (he’s adorable, they have the rings tied to the pillow he’s holding because they predicted this). You can’t help but notice your mom’s face through it all—eyes welling up with tears, smiling so wide with her cheeks close to bursting in happiness and excitement, all while clasping her hands together and constantly gushing with her friends surrounding her. “Oh!” She exclaims, shaking her head. “My lovely daughter is getting married!”
You want to scowl, but you won’t. Today is your sister’s day, not yours, and her happiness was a priority. But the way your mom gazes at your sister dreamily, walking down the aisle with the biggest grin on her face, and her constant probing from the weeks before about how you’re never going to get married at this rate only makes you feel small, despite the fact you made yourself into this independent, strong person. Albeit none of that matters when your mother still looks at you disappointingly.
It’s like Jungkook senses the shift in your emotions, because he rests his hand comfortingly on your thigh, just above the knee, and when your eyes lock, his expression softens.
The ceremony flows well; there’s tears, laughs, and hollers, all supporting the main couple. They say their vows, exchange rings, and end things off with a loving kiss that sparks fireworks into the sky. That look on Suji’s face is filled with infatuation, hopelessly in love with the man in front of her, but the moment you glance at her new husband’s face—it’s a mirror of hers.
You… want that.
Jungkook has mentioned before that maybe these things are just something that you might want but may not truly want for yourself. But seeing your sister have it is only confirmation of it, and part of you… wishes that you had someone like that.
And for the first time, Jungkook comes to mind.
Maybe it’s because he’s sitting next to you, you attempt to reason, albeit he’s always been running through your head. The fact that the two of you had gotten relatively closer these past few weeks, him waiting patiently for a specific label to be presented by you, was adding to more of the reasons why he’s now a perfect candidate versus the old version of himself.
When the reception begins, you shoo Jungkook to find something occupy himself while you lend a hand to your sister and mom with greeting any additional guests that come in.
From his perspective, he feels like a balloon with too much air in it, threatening to burst.
Not that he was gassy, but more like he was filled with… emotion, and impatience, close to rupturing. Especially lately, Jungkook has been rethinking his entire life plan, ever since you decided that it was either date seriously or nothing. Truthfully, he thought that he could convince you otherwise—lead you to wish for an uncommitted relationship, but if he was to confess sincerely… you seemed to have changed his mind.
He saw your relatives chasing the kids around who holler and giggle gleefully, smiles plastered widely on their faces. One of your cousins, Nayeon (if he remembers their name correctly), was running after her toddler daughter around the second floor of your parents’ house after the baby showered, completely in the nude. He saw your grandfather, standing in the corner of the hallway, trying his best to catch the little one but his stomach was too big and he couldn't bend over far enough to grab her.
But then he saw Naeun’s husband; albeit his wife was sweating, hair out of place and completely stressed out by this crazy toddler, his face… exhibits adoration.
“Baby,” he remembers the man calling out to his love, snatching her up into his embrace with a soothing hum. “Go rest up. I’ll get her dressed and ready for bed, yeah?”
Naeun’s shoulders drop, eyes sunken from tiredness. She’s probably been taking care of the baby nonstop, and having to deal with family members in the midst of it, so when her husband stops her, it’s like she’s finally got a second to breathe again. “I—But the baby,”
“Yes, I got her,” he assures her, pressing a kiss on her temple. “I’ll take care of it. Go shower and rest up.”
And for a brief moment, Jungkook thought it was the two of you.
He sees himself, telling you to take a breather, to let him watch over the little ones as you shower. He sees himself, pressing gentle kisses on the crown of your head with an exchanging soft chuckle between the two of you, whispering a brisk ‘I love you’s because the kids are at it again with their crazy shenanigans, bulldozing everything in sight before he can get a chance to keep up with them. He sees himself, that day when your sister is looking up at her now-husband, but instead of your sister, it’s you.
To be quite fair, Jungkook isn’t a hundred percent solid on whether or not he wants this specific future. It’s particularly different from the route he’s always presented to himself, and it’s an uncharted territory for him but one thing he knows for sure is that he wants you.
He wants to see you when he comes home after a day of work, he wants you beside him on weekday nights, snuggling underneath the blanket while on the couch, watching some stupid movie you chose. He favors eating from those take-out boxes or even a nice home cooked meal, but only because you’re with him, despite the fact that there’s not much that the two of you have in common… something about you specifically that has his heart stuttering recently, and being around your family only furthers it.
So when he’s resting his arms on a tall table, beer in hand, blazer unbuttoned and the first few of his dress shirt let loose while faintly listening to some of the men his age that he’s become familiar with at the wedding, he can’t fully focus on anything other than you from across the venue.
Hair let free, cascading over your exposed shoulders, and pretty collarbones out for everyone to see, Jungkook doesn’t think there’s anyone in comparison when it comes to you. The head attached to those graceful shoulders holds so much intelligence, always teaching him something new with each encounter he has with you, and he truly feels grateful to have met someone like you.
“Hey,” one of the dudes calls out, interrupting Jungkook’s dreamy gaze in your direction. “Hottie at 6:00.”
Jungkook clicks his tongue, lazily turning to where the guy points out, along with the other three guys with him. It’s both Horny—Hyunae (he has to remind himself to stop saying that because you keep engraving it into his head) with another one of your relatives (Jungkook can’t keep up with all their names). “Which one?” the one dude with purple hair queries.
“Both,” the original guy says, smirking as he takes another sip of his drink before nudging Jungkook. “You tryna get one and I get the other?”
“Hey, what about me?” the purple hair guy looks at him with a confused expression. “Am I not hot enough?”
“In comparison to him? Nah. I’d rather have him as my wingman. You see the tattoos on his hands? Probably makes those girls’ panties wet in mere seconds.”
Jungkook waves them both off. “Nah, count me out. I got another one I’m targeting.”
The first guy scoffs, putting his drink beside Jungkook, more intrigued by him than the girls now. “Interesting. You have another girl in mind? Who is it? I wanna see.”
Without hesitation, Jungkook gestures to your direction, straightening his posture when he sees you turning, giving him a small wave before going back to the guests again, shaking their hands and giving them your lovely smiles.
“The bride’s sister?”
“Shit, I know her. That’s a stretch.”
He can’t help but let out a laugh, shaking his head at the guys, lifting his beer up in the air. “Wanna see my game? Since you think I’m hot enough to land any girl, right? Watch this.”
With that, he makes his way over to you, and when you turn to him with a smile that’s softer, warmer than the ones you’ve been handing off to the guests, he feels his heart blooming more than all the flowers at the venue. He’s never felt like this before—this thing happening inside of him where his chest is tight, stomach doing flips despite not being nervous about anything, other than just being in close proximity. Have you always been this pretty?
A hand on your waist, you pat his chest comfortingly before resuming back to your activities, and Jungkook turns to give a wink at the guys who stand in awe, mouths dropped at his game.
If they only knew.
He wasn’t the one that caught you. You caught him.
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The weekend was nice, you have to admit; spending time with your family (even though they were super judgemental at times) and seeing your sister get happily married was blissful.
But all good things come to an end.
Holding the end of your clipboard against yourself, you’re skimming through the patient’s chart with previous notes made by the doctor, orders on what she should be more cautious about, and directions on how to prevent another instance. Yet, she’s here. In a room in the ER, claiming to have liver issues yet again.
“This is your second time here, Lisa,” you purse your lips, taking a seat on the swivel stool. “What’s up? I thought the last doctor told you to cut your alcohol intake. Even the specialist said the same thing.”
“I did!” She exclaims defensively.
You drop the clipboard onto the tray beside you before crossing your arms, “... so how’d you do that? How much were you drinking instead?”
“What do you mean? I just ran a knife through it while pouring.”
You almost gave yourself a physical facepalm, but your job description doesn’t have ‘make patients feel dumb’ or ‘call them fucking idioits’ in it, unfortunately.
After following the procedures to take care of Lisa, you’ve sent her off to proper care. Leaving her room, you let out a heavy sigh, pumping a couple squirts of hand sanitizer from a bottle that sits at the nurses’ station when you notice Nurse Hyerim peering at you suspiciously. “Uh… yes, Hyerim?”
“So, about Dr. Hyunjin—”
“Mm,” you hum teasingly, resting your forearms against the counter, a smirk tugging on the edges of your lips. “Dr. Hyunjin’s name seems to come out of your mouth quite frequently. Are you going to ask me if I’m going on a date with him again? Just out of curiosity and thirst for drama to share through the grapevine? Or perhaps…” your wag your finger jokingly before pointing at her. “... you’re interested in Dr. Hyunjin and wanna take him out on a date.”
Hyerim is stuttering, words unable to escape from her mouth properly. “I-Uh, I—”
“Mm, if that’s the case, then no, I am not seeing him again, and you’re more than welcome to hit that.”
In disbelief, she puffs a breath of air that blows her hair away from her face. “Wh—What? It’s not even like that! What about you? What happened between the two of you?”
You shrug nonchalantly, playing with the pens in the plastic holder. “Nothing just… you know.”
This time, it’s Nurse Hyerim’s turn to taunt you. “Does this… have to do with that pretty boy from 18B?”
“I mean…” just the thought of Jungkook has your face heated. The two of you haven’t been able to have a proper conversation about what happened the day at the wedding, what he professed, and how you felt in return. “Would it be crazy? You know. For the two of us to be together. Insane, right?”
Hyerim’s confused. “What? You do realize you’re two hot people… right?”
“It’s not even like that.”
“Well, what’s the problem?” She tilts her head, puzzled. “Does he still not want to be your boyfriend?”
“Uh, actually, he wants to date now.”
Hyerim slams her hand on the counter, completely baffled. A couple heads turn and you wince internally. “Are you kidding? No offense doc, you’re hella smart but also very stupid. We’re talking about hottie in 18B here—“ geez, you’re praying no one is currently occupying 18B right now “—the one that has that rep of being a ‘fuckboy’ and I don’t even have to know him to know that. He wants you, bitch you better go for that before someone else snatches him.”
“Did you just call me a bitch?”
“Heat of the moment. You get it.”
“Mm,” you hum because everything Hyerim is saying isn’t new information. “Alright. I’ll… I’ll talk to him tonight. Maybe. We’ll see.”
Jungkook mentions prior to your lunch break that he’ll be over tonight, but “later. gotta take care of some stuff back at my apartment.” And at first, you considered waiting patiently in your living room, wine on the table and maybe in some cute ass lingerie and a silky robe—but why wait when you can just… go to him?
Of course, you’re not insane. It's been chilly recently these nights, so you’re not going to go strutting in lingerie underneath a thin ass robe. But, you’ll sport those jeans he says makes your ass look juicy, and a comfortable long sleeve to get him thinking that nothing will happen at the end of the night. (Spoiler: dirty things are going to happen that night.)
But you’re starting to learn from your mistakes, something that they teach you throughout all of your education career, from preschool up to high school, and even in college. They teach you in books; the life lesson is to learn from your mistakes and try your best not to make them again.
So, when Jungkook opens the door, completely shocked and unsure what to say, you’re left speechless too.
He didn’t lie—you make this very clear, but he wasn’t being entirely candid and open either.
Because that girl that stabbed him—the one that caused the scar in his abdomen, the one that made you be the one to tend to his wounds, is sitting in the dining room, with who you assume is her parents, all dolled up for the occasion while the mother lays the dishes on the glass table.
“What—What’s happening?” That’s all you can say. Well, what else could you say? You’re a doctor. You should keep your composure—acting out only makes you look bad and what if the cops come? A doctor getting arrested?
To be fair—you’re not that intense to warrant a visit from the cops.
But nonetheless, you’re fuming.
“Baby,” he whispers softly, shutting his door behind him to push you out into the hall. “I thought I said we’d meet after I take care of some things.”
“Take care of some bitch like she’s your girlfriend?” What the fuck is this guy talking about? How dense is he? “You got her parents in there too? What is this? Meet-the-boyfriend dinner? Did you come to my place for practice or what?”
“Baby,” Jungkook says again, quieter. “Relax. I actually wanted to talk to you about this tonight.”
“Bullshit—“
“Fuck! Alright, I know it was wrong of me and I should’ve told you earlier, but I thought she was over it and I cut her off, okay? I didn’t know she’d bring her fucking parents here!”
If having question marks above your head was an action that occurred in real life, now would be the time for them to appear. “Huh?”
“Can we talk about this later?” He says, those chocolate pools he calls his eyes are pulling you in, and in mere seconds, you’re already drowning in the sweetness. "I know it sounds insane, but there's a very good reason why I'm being so shady about this. It's not because I don't like you, or that I'm playing you either. I just... this is an embarrassing side of me and I really just want to figure this out before I make... us work."
You suck in your cheeks in defeat. He has a way with words, you admit, but you're starting to feel like he's testing his chances with you. “11:00PM. Sharp. If you’re not at my doorstep by then, you can consider this done.”
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dreamsfreckles · 4 years
Text
[6:57p.m.] Whatever Idiot
~
Dream x reader
Fluff
Wholesome bf content 😌 - enjoy!
~
You furrowed your brows in thought.
As much as you loved watching him game with his friends, you got bored sometimes. It’s not like he left you out or ignored you, but today you were craving a little extra love from your 6’3 boyfriend. “Dream,”as his buddies called him, was playing minecraft yet again, just messing around in the SMP. You came to his house an hour or two ago and talked for a bit before he hopped online with the boys. You didn’t mind, of course. Sometimes you’d play with him, while other times you’d just watch; either way it was equally as entertaining. However, today felt super long, even kind of rough. All you wanted to do once the day ended was to fall into your wonderful boyfriend’s arms... But that was kind of hard to do when he was sitting in front of his desk, clicking away on his keyboard and mouse.
You debated your options.
You could bother him to attract his attention, or you could patiently wait for him like the good girlfriend you are...
After much reluctance, you simply decided to just lay on his bed and scroll through tiktok for the time being.
As you aimlessly pass by hundreds of videos... One of them catches your attention.
There’s a video of a girl setting up her phone on a surface to point at a boy who looks to be gaming on a computer.
That looks familiar to your situation...
She then proceeds to walk over to him, sit down facing him in his lap, and then hug him closely whilst he continues playing on the device.
Your heart flutters watching the video.
That was so cute... What would Clay do if you did that to him..?
Glancing up to him from your spot on his bed, you analyze his set up. Is there room for you to fit in his lap? Is there anything that you could potentially knock over? You sit up more to get a better look. He has space in between himself and the desk that looks to be enough space to crawl into... He also looks calm, so you shouldn’t be interupting anything special...
Deciding that this was your chance, you softly stood from your spot on the bed and padded over to the side of him.
“No, Sapnap, you can’t build that here, it’s-“ Clay spoke into his mic, probably ordering Sapnap around.
With a flushed face, you move to stand more in front of him, causing him to look from his monitor, up to you.
“Babe-“
You wordlessly swing your right leg over his thighs and gently sit yourself down in his lap, facing him, and then wrapping your arms around him. Clay froze, his face heating up as he processed what you just did. You relax into his embrace and nuzzle into the side of his neck.
Finally content with your guys’s proximity, you sigh out the four words you have yet to say to him that night.
“I love you, Clay.”
With his game already paused and mic muted, Clay wraps his arms around you and rests his head on yours. He was smiling, his heart filled with warmth. He didnt realize how much he missed being this close to you.
“I love you too.”
After hugging in silence for a few minutes, Clay’s curiosity got the best of him. “Baby?”
“Hmm?” You breathe out.
“Whatcha doin’?” He asks softly.
“Huggin’ you.”
Clay chuckles, closing his eyes once again, and rubbing his hands up and down your back.
“You are being very cute right now.” He confesses, with a light smirk.
Your lips lift into a smile. “I know.”
Clay lets out a soft wheeze, running his fingers through your hair. “Was I ignoring you too much for your liking? You feeling clingy?” He asked jokingly.
You squeeze him a little tighter. “Lil’ bit.”
Clay chcukles, yet again, and crushes you harder into the hug, causing you to let out a strained squeak. “ClAy! tOo mUcH!” You mangage to yell out, successfully making Clay bubble into a fit of wheezes and giggles. Finally feeling merciful, he lets go of you and allows you to sit up and look down at him. Clay gazes at you with stars in his eyes. Every time he looks at you, a wave of excitment hits him. Being with you was always fun; even if you both were sitting in silence, scrolling through Instagram, or watching youtube together.
Clay’s mind started to wander to how you both got into this situation in the first place. You must’ve gotten a little bored while he was playing. You were usually quite content when he played. Maybe you weren’t. Were you always bored when he played? Were you getting sick of his gaming habits? Worry flashed over Clay for a moment. No... You would say something if you got bored... right? Clay didn’t think it was that deep. If there was a real problem, you probably wouldn’t be in his lap...
Right..?
“Clay?” You broke him from his trance. “Oh.” He blinked. “yeah?” You giggled at his dopey face. “You looked a little concerned for a second.” You admitted, bringing your hand up to his face to pinch his cheekbone. Suddenly, a thought washes over you. “Wait.” You panic. “Is there something on my face?” Clay almost laughed. Almost. He felt a wave mischief wash over him. “Yes, actually.” He smirks. “There’s a very tiny spider on your forehead.” Your eyes widen for a moment and it looks like you’re about to spaz out; but before you do, you realize the look on his face is most definitely cap. You immediately glare at him and smack his shoulder. “I hate you.” You scoffed, getting up from his lap. Clay giggles and tries to tug you back. “Wait, I was kidding!” He draws out, whining at your departure from his lap. You hop back into your original spot and scoff. “Yeah, whatever, go back to blowing George or something.” Clay’s jaw drops at your words. “WhaT DID YOU JUST SAY?” He starts to get up from the chair. You look up from your phone, knowing what’s about to happen. “Nope. Nope. Go back to your desk, I’m not starting this with you again.” You deny, shaking your head and directing him to sit back down. Clay stares at you in disbelief. “Wh-“ he looks back to his computer and then back to you. “What do you mean ‘starting this again’-“ he mocks in your voice. You burst out laughing, denying him from coming any closer. “I meAN-“ you say exhasporatedly. “We both know what the fuck you’re about to do and I CAN’T-“ before you could finish your sentence, you were already being thrown over his shoulder. “CLAY!” You screech. “I’M SERIOUS CLAY, I CAN’T-“ Clay shakes his head, already done with you. “Nope you got on my nerves, this is your punishment.” Clay walks out of his room, through the kitchen, and out the patio door, heading straight for his pool. “CLAY I SWEAR TO GOD IF YOU-“ and with one final curse from you, Clay flings himself, with you over his shoulder, into his backyard pool.
Clay is already laughing as you rise to the surface of the water, a glare on your face. Clay is wheezing with laughter. You almost felt concerned that he wasn’t breathing. Almost. As his wheezing turns to laughing and laughing turns to giggling, he finally was to the point where he could function. You raise your eyebrows. “Done?” You ask. Clay lets out one last chcukle, walking towards your body half submerged in the water. “Not quite.” He states suggestively, walking up to you until you’re an inch apart in the middle of the pool.
Now, there’s no way you’re letting him back you up against the pool wall like some PUSSY. So you stood your ground in your sopping wet sweatshirt. If anything, YOU were the one who was going to be backing HIM up against some wall.
Clay stares at you expectingly, water driping from his wet hair. You stare right back at him, no sign of emotion. He looks back and fourth between both of your eyes, trying to make you break. However, your stare is much stronger and is quickly causing Clay to panic. You stare harder. ‘Break, break’ you chant in your head. Clays eyes squint. You follow suit.
Clay blinks.
“FUCK”
“HAHAHA IDIOT I WIN!” You rejoice.
Clay sighs, running his hands over his face. “Whatever.” He deadpans. “Lets just get out of here.” He mopes, walking to the stairs of the pool.
You giggle. “Someone’s a sore loser...” you poke, causing Clay to look back at you with a fierce look in his eyes. You laugh and swim up to him, latching yourself onto his wet t-shirt-clad back. “Stop giving me that look, you puppy. I know who you truly are.” You smile up at him innocently. Clay rolls his eyes and smiles.
“Whatever, idiot.”
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Lol, hope you liked it! This was my first try writing with the dream team and I plan to write more! Let me know if you have any feedback! Also, I can take requests if anyone is interested :3 thx!
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