#you can guess who my meow meows from my other shows are too based on this | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

whatifyoulivelikethat · 3 years

Text

not allowed iii, m | jjk, myg

pairing(s): jungkook x reader x est. relationship yoongi

summary: Your relationship with Min Yoongi, SUGA of BTS, is unlike anything else in the entire world. At this point, it’s almost like telepathy with how close you are. Still, he surprised you. Such as asking Jeon Jungkook to fuck you. Once. Twice. And this time Jungkook is waiting for you, with Yoongi.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; established relationship with Yoongi (and they basically have heart eyes whenever they see each other lol); tiny bit of angst; feels and fluff; smut (fem reader, dirty talk, voyeurism, f and m-receiving oral, fingering, m-masturbation, partial handjob, doggy, double penetration/spit roasting); idol!BTS; takes place after 2021 GDA, yup blond JK is best boy and kind boy

mentions of the pandemic because this is based on real time

–

You closed the door behind you and breathed out slowly. It was late, quite dark outside. Most people would be asleep by now. You unhooked your black face mask from your ears and pushed the hood of your black parka down, releasing your hair.

Ah, there was always stress and adrenaline to get here.

You had stated working again, so you weren't here every day anymore. You had to go back after all, if you wanted to keep your job. You worked from home most days and, with the current state of the world, now it was all the time. Still, you couldn’t take any chances. You made sure to get tested and have your results before coming here. Negative, so you were good.

You turned on the light.

A blond bullet collided into you.

"Oof!"

You had to plant your feet and brace for impact, and you still almost toppled over. You would have if it wasn't for the strong arms that encircled you and lifted you up, making you dizzy as you were spun around.

"Ack, J-Jungkook..."

You could feel your eyes rolling in their sockets. You were put firmly on the ground and still being squeezed to death.

"I'm so happy to see you!" Jeon Jungkook, the Golden Maknae of BTS, exclaimed, albeit in a hushed tone, but no less excited. "I was surprised when you said you could come today!"

You managed to blink your eyeballs back in place to see Jungkook's animated face above you, blond hair fluffy and bouncy from spinning you around. He wasn't wearing any makeup and he smelled freshly washed, as if he had taken a late shower. His brown eyes were sparkling as he grinned at you, showing off his bright white teeth. You hadn't seen his ash blond hair in real life yet, only on television.

You smiled at him. "Yeah? Did you miss me?"

Jungkook nodded quickly. "I wanted to show you my hair." He bent down and placed it against your nose. You could smell the nice scent of the herbal product he used. “Do you like it, noona?"

You chuckled. "Of course, I like it," you said fondly, nuzzling the dark roots of the blond locks. It felt nice inhaling his familiar scent, a comforting and clean one. "You're my lock screen."

"I've been betrayed."

You chuckled as you heard the raspy, sleepy voice of Min Yoongi, your boyfriend. Owner of said apartment you were in right now. The lazy center of your universe. The reason why you even bothered to run around in the dark. The reason why you had to match your schedule with the guard shift so the security that recognized you could turn a blind eye. Not all of the security recognized you, just the ones Yoongi had a careful and stem conversation with. That’s how it had to be.

All because Min Yoongi was also SUGA of BTS. Agust D. Lil meow meow. The softest fluff with the sharpest tongue.

You looked up to see Yoongi padding down the hallway in a black long-sleeved shirt and a pair of loose black pants. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, squinting, but with a small smile on his lips. Jungkook released you as Yoongi neared, your body automatically wandering towards him. You reached into your oversized parka coat and pulled out your phone. You had changed the outside once again, to a TinyTan SUGA clear case, to show off the multi-chrome purple finish of the BTS S20+. You turned it around in your hand and pressed the side button. The screen lit up, revealing your lock screen.

"Thanks for standing next to each other. It made picking a lock screen much easier."

It was a picture of Jungkook and Yoongi, standing on stage right before the 'Life Goes On' performance at GDA 2020.

"I missed seeing you there," you added softly, holding your phone tightly. It was weirdly emotional, knowing Yoongi was back. How could he ever think anyone was going to forget him? “It’s always better when the seven of you are together.”

Yoongi chuckled, fluffing the back of his black hair. "Ah, back to working hard once again..." he complained, but you could tell he didn't mean it at all.

And for you.

You wanted him to be on stage again. You wanted him to be busy again, doing what he loved, getting into nonsense in Run BTS!, looking cool in photo shoots, back to actively making music all the time. You were an independent person and you didn't necessarily need your significant other to always be beside you. For the longest time, you had even been quite comfortable with it. But the little while of Yoongi's sudden rest made you realize that it was nice to always be around him. To be somewhat normal, even if your relationship couldn’t and would never be fully normal.

And now you were disturbing his sleep. Now, not just his, but Jungkook's too. And maybe... Maybe that made you a burde–

Yoongi suddenly stepped up and tapped you lightly on the forehead with two fingers.

"Stop that train of thought right now."

You frowned and bonked him right back with the back of your hand. "What if I was thinking about dick, huh?"

"If you were thinking about dick, you'd be on Jungkook's right now, and then I'd be pulling up a chair to watch the show."

"What if I was thinking about your dick, hmm?"

"Do you even remember what my dick looks like?" Yoongi replied haughtily.

"Of course, I do. You painted the fucking Mona Lisa on my tits the last time I was here."

"Hm, you're right."

Jungkook was laughing hard behind you, the high-pitched one that came out when he couldn’t help himself. Both of you turned to see Jungkook with his arms around his stomach as he cackled at your bickering.

"It's like..." Jungkook wheezed. "It's like watching hyung fight himself and losing..."

"I’m not losing," Yoongi retorted, pursing his lips.

"You always lose."

"Because I let you win."

"That's true, because you love me."

You smiled cheekily at Yoongi. You thought he was going to give you his usual snappy comeback, but instead he leaned over and kissed your forehead. His hair shaded his eyes a little. He smiled at you, dark brown orbs sparkling.

I do love you.

"You wanna spend all night standing here or are you going to join me in bed?" Yoongi teased, ticking his chin at your sneakers.

You pointed to Jungkook. "Is he coming too?"

The laughter instantly left Jungkook’s face, replaced by nervousness. "Ah... I don't have to..." he stammered. "If you guys want to be alone... I only wanted to say hello..."

"He's coming," Yoongi said purposefully, ignoring Jungkook's ramble. "He's been waiting two hours to stick his dick in you."

"Hyung!"

You raised your eyebrows as you stepped out of your shoes. "I stated my arrival time in the text. Did you not tell him?"

"I told him, but he came right after shooting. Just in case you arrived earlier."

You smirked and tugged on Jungkook’s white shirt. "Did he tell you why I can only come at specific times?"

"I know, but..." Jungkook chewed on his lip. "Hyung said he would try and see if you could come more often."

You smiled ruefully as you took Yoongi's hand and followed him down the hall. You were still holding onto Jungkook's shirt, so you lowered your hand to take his too. He looked surprised for a second before you squeezed it reassuringly. The white with his blond hair was a good choice. You wondered if it was done on purpose. He was even wearing nicer black trousers, although his shirt wasn’t tucked in.

Was it for your sake?

"Ah, I don’t know if that’s possible. Don't want anyone to find out, after all. And," you added with a chuckle. "I don't want to get you in trouble either, Jungkookie."

"He's already in trouble," Yoongi laughed. "Taehyung caught him mumbling your name in his sleep."

Jungkook's cheeks instantly flushed. "I-It wasn't sexual!"

You blinked at him. "No one said it was."

He turned redder and grabbed your parka, hiding his face behind the big hood. "R... right."

Maybe you were being too greedy. Maybe you should have kept your mouth shut so Yoongi wouldn’t feel pressure to indulge in your fantasies. Maybe you were asking too much.

The sigh came out of you, heavy with self-doubt.

"Maybe we shou–"

Yoongi's lips were suddenly on yours, kissing you deeply. Your eyes widened as he pressed you against Jungkook's hard body, watching you through half-lidded eyes. He could sense your worry and perhaps he guessed your reaction. You hand reached back to hold onto Jungkook to prevent yourself from falling, but your eyes were on Yoongi, the one who knew you best, the one who knew that he too was asking a lot from you, the one who was trying to remind you that everything was okay. His dark brown orbs were telling you, we will take everything step by step, and his lips moved on yours, I love you. You mouthed it back with a smile.

Yoongi pulled away, the smile reaching his eyes.

"You're the most special person to me."

Your heart softened, hearing those familiar words from your current favorite song.

"I thought that was for ARMY."

Yoongi raised an eyebrow in mock distraught. "Are you not an ARMY?"

"Of course."

"Then it's for you too."

Yoongi was like that. He couldn't and wasn't the kind of guy to write you traditional love songs, but he gave you all sorts of other things. Small things, actions that seemed trivial or nonexistent to others. And maybe someone else would overlook those things, but you knew how difficult it was for him to show affection, even more so because of his job. To be honest, you were similar, showing your love in nuance and teasing. Also, you liked the treasure hunt that was Min Yoongi. And above all, most importantly, he listened to you, listened so deeply it felt like he knew what you were thinking.

There was nothing like the telepathy been you and Min Yoongi.

Jungkook was sniffing your head.

"What's this small?"

You almost laughed at his childlike tone. Yoongi smiled too, leaning forward and sniffing your temple, next to your hair.

"Oh? It's fruity."

"It's peaches," you explained as Jungkook parted your hair to sniff deeper, as if that was going to do anything. He was probably just trying to fuck up your hair. "I ran out of shampoo and they didn’t have my usual at the store."

You were suddenly aware that you were squashed between Yoongi and Jungkook’s bodies as they two of them were smelling you, Yoongi’s arms around your waist, Jungkook’s hands on your hips. Despite being fully clothed, the position was sending tingles up your spine, your breathing shallowing, tickling Yoongi’s cheek as Jungkook brushed your hair to one side, pressing his lips against your bare neck. You felt Yoongi’s lips on your jaw, kissing against your pulse. You whined a little, one hand bunching against Yoongi’s shirt as your other hand drifted down to Jungkook’s right hand on your hip, stroking his knuckles.

Yoongi reached up to unzip your parka.

“W-wait, be careful–” you started, but Yoongi shushed you, nuzzling your cheek.

“I will be,” Yoongi whispered softly. “That’s why Jungkook’s here to help me.”

You bit your lip as Yoongi unzipped your coat with his right hand, using his left to hold the placket down. He kissed up to your mouth as his hands slid into the coat, fingers brushing against the red flannel underneath. Jungkook’s lips were moving up to your ear, lightly nipping at the curve and making you shiver, chest bumping against Yoongi’s as your ass hit Jungkook’s crotch.

“I…” You shut your eyes, trying to concentrate as Yoongi sucked on your lower lip. “I don’t deserve this…”

Yoongi clicked his tongue, biting at your lip roughly. You opened your eyes to his disapproving glare, eyes dark from his lowered lashes. His large hands squeezed your waist.

“You’re not allowed to say such things.”

You felt the heat spread from his hands, pooling into your core.

“Isn’t that right, Jungkook?”

Yoongi ticked an eyebrow at you as you gasped a little, Jungkook’s lips on your earlobe, voice lustful and deep.

“That’s right, noona. Let Yoongi-hyung and I ruin you.”

…

Help.

Yoongi’s fingers began undoing the buttons of the red flannel, one by one. He was well practiced at unbuttoning shirts with one hand now. A skill that he had honed for himself and for you. He smirked as you noticed, whispering your name in a slow, purring drawl, deep and raspy, dark brown eyes watching you and drinking in your reaction.

Min Yoongi was scary. He knew how to make you wet instantly.

And then Jungkook did the same, breathing your name into your ear in his silvery low octave. Your hand on Yoongi’s shirt clenched and tugged him close, moaning into his lips, kissing him hard. Jungkook’s hand slipped out of yours and reached up to your shoulders, pushing your clothes down, revealing your bare skin. Taking them off you as your tongue slid into Yoongi’s mouth, his soft pants against your lips as your hips grinded into Jungkook’s crotch, feeling him harden at your closeness. Your parka and shirt slid to the floor as Yoongi pulled you forward, closer and closer to the bed, Jungkook encouraging you by smacking your ass with his hips.

Yoongi broke the kiss with a flick of his head, making you whine in disappointment. He chuckled, looking down at you with a devious smile.

“Jungkook wants something from you.”

Yoongi turned you around with his hands on your hips, colliding you with Jungkook’s hard chest. You gasped a little, looking up to see Jungkook chewing on his lower lip, bunny teeth flashing. The tiny mole under his lip bounced with his biting. His golden hair framed his apprehensive brown eyes, finally making eye contact.

“What’s wrong, Jungkook?” You tilted your head. “Do you want me to blow you again?”

Jungkook’s ears flushed red. “A-ah, n-no… I mean, yes, but…”

Yoongi snickered, unhooking your bra with his right hand. He lowered one strap and then the other, stripping it from you and tossing it aside. Jungkook’s cheeks tinged pink, eyes immediately dropping to stare at your tits. You smirked, placing your palms underneath them and bouncing them a little. You felt Yoongi’s fingers dancing down the small of your back, hovering around the waistband of your black sweatpants.

“Why aren’t you dressed like how you are on your Instagram?” Yoongi muttered behind you. “False advertising.”

“You have an Instagram?” Jungkook blurted out, still staring at your nipples.

You rolled your eyes even though Yoongi couldn’t see you. “Because someone would notice, obviously.”

Yoongi clicked his tongue. “Just one time…”

“Wait, how come I don’t know you have an Instagram?” Jungkook whined, hands coming up to settle on your breasts and squeezing them. You lowered your hands, gasping as Jungkook’s palms rubbed against your hard nipples.

“You never asked,” Yoongi answered, snapping the waistband into your skin. “Also, it’s private.”

“C-can we talk about this later?” you panted out.

Jungkook grinned and dropped his hands a little, brushing his fingers against your nipples. You moaned softly, your vision shaded by your lashes, seeing his mischievous smirk.

“Mhm, as long as you promise to show me after.”

You scoffed. “Sure, it’s not that interestin–” You whimpered as Jungkook pinched your nipples, rubbing them between his fingertips. “A-ah, Jungkook…”

He breathed your name, no honorifics, and your eyes locked with his. Fuck, he was so handsome with his ash blond hair, reminding you of when Yoongi had blond hair. Ugh, so fucking hot. You felt your sweatpants being shoved down your hips but you barely noticed, lost in daydreams of blond Yoongi and blond Jungkook.

“Can I eat you out?”

You were abruptly yanked back into the present by Jungkook’s request.

“Yes.” Fuck. You said that far too fast and far too needy. Jungkook grinned, removing his hands from your breasts. “Ah, I mean…”

He leaned forward, pressing his nose against yours. “You’re out of it today.”

You felt Yoongi’s fingers slip under the waistband of your panties. His lips were traveling down your back, kissing down your spine. You trembled slightly, swallowing as you stared into Jungkook’s dark brown eyes.

And you couldn’t help but think, was this really okay? Was this fair, for you to have both at once?

Jungkook tipped his head, lips against yours. He seemed to sense your hesitation. “I thought you wanted me?” His soft hair brushed against your cheek, golden rays blocking your vision. “Thought you loved looking at me?”

“I do,” you whimpered. “I love looking at you.”

Yoongi fingers pulling your panties down, down, liquid leaking out and clinging to the inside of your thighs. Your cheeks heated, realizing how wet you were.

“Then what’s the matter?” Yoongi purred against your lower back.

“Don’t… don’t want to hurt you, Yoongi,” you whispered against Jungkook’s lips. Your vision blurred and you blinked rapidly. Ah, why was the world so heavy all of a sudden? Why couldn’t you be calm as usual? Why couldn’t you roll with it as usual?

Because you missed them.

Them.

Jungkook kissed you tenderly as Yoongi stood back up, his lips pressed to your ear.

“There’s nothing like us. You know there isn’t.”

He was right, of course. There was nothing like you and Yoongi.

Jungkook pulled back and Yoongi’s right hand appeared in your periphery, his long fingers tucking Jungkook’s blond hair behind his left ear, giving you a clear view of Jungkook’s beautiful eyes, the unique shape, the rich brown color, the way they looked at you, as if he was afraid you were going to disappear. Waiting for the heartbreak.

“And there’s no one like Jungkook,” Yoongi murmured. “You want him. He wants you. Isn’t that enough?”

And Yoongi was right again. There was no one like Jungkook.

“I’m sorry, Jungkook,” you breathed. “I’m sorry, but I really do want you so bad.”

“You can have me. However much you want,” Jungkook replied. Eyes locked with yours, meaning every word. He tilted his head, leaning in again, lashes lowering, breath against your lips.

“I want you to take it all.”

But Jungkook wasn’t the only one who said it.

Your eyes widened as you heard Yoongi echo Jungkook’s words right into your ear.

“Take it all,” Yoongi growled. “Take it and don’t hold back.”

Your name fell from Yoongi’s lips, your name, like a spark to fire, igniting you. There no one like Yoongi, snapping you out of your doubt, taking your heart and holding it tight while turning you on. You grabbed Jungkook’s white shirt and yanked his body to yours as you kissed him, inhaling his clean scent, his lips an addiction. And there was no one like Jungkook, because what both of you thought was just a crush, just a one-time thing, wasn’t. For some reason, you couldn’t stop and he couldn’t stop, hooked on the taste of his lips and his tongue sliding against yours, moaning into your mouth as you moaned into his, feeling Yoongi’s hands on your hips, pressing you into Jungkook’s clothed crotch, some of your juices getting onto his pants and staining them.

Jungkook pushed your head up, breaking the kiss and gasping, eyelids fluttering. He pressed your head back against Yoongi’s shoulder, kissing down your chest, running his tongue over your skin. You shuddered, head falling back down to watch him. Chocolate orbs to yours as he licked your left nipple, twirling his wet muscle around it, covering it with saliva. You whimpered at the dirty action, arching your back to press the hard nub into his mouth. Jungkook whined in his throat, closing his lips around it as you humped your chest onto his face. He sucked hard, hollowing his cheeks, intensifying the feeling as Yoongi teased your other nipple, pinching it and rolling it between his fingers.

“Fuck, Jungkook, fuck…”

Your thighs squeezed together, desperate for friction.

Jungkook released your nipple, licking it a few times, letting you watch the swollen nub get slapped back and forth by his tongue. You shivered, hips bumping into his. Jungkook’s strong hands came up to hold you still.

“Don’t waste it by rubbing it all over me,” he teased. “I want it in my mouth.”

You clutched his white shirt and yanked up, making Jungkook yelp with your force.

“Take it off,” you half-growled, half-whined. “Need it off.”

Yoongi chuckled at your impatience as Jungkook wiggled out of his shirt, throwing it aside. He looked back at you, blond hair covering one of his eyes, smirk on his lips.

“Better?”

Ugh, Jungkook was so attractive. The shape of his broad shoulders, his sculpted arms, the fucking tattoos that shone on his tan skin, the way his body trimmed down to that v-line. Your eyes roamed down his torso and then back up, licking your lips. Jungkook raised his eyebrows, completely aware of your staring.

“Yes. Much better.”

You took him by the shoulders and pushed him down to his knees. His eyes widened, stumbling a little as he knelt for you, hands coming up to grip your hips for support. You pushed his left hand away, hooking your leg onto Jungkook’s left shoulder and presenting your pussy right into his face. He gasped at the sight, eyes glued to your dripping core, lips parting wetly.

“Fuck,” he breathed hotly. You squirmed, trying to get into his face, but his right hand held you down, drinking in the image in front of him, left hand finding your ass and gripping it tightly. “You smell so fucking sexy.”

“Jungkook, please…”

His eyes flickered up to your face, half-lidded with lust, dipping his head down.

“Can’t resist you,” he mumbled. “I just have to have a taste of his nectar.”

And then his tongue on you, licking a fat stripe across your opening, moaning as your flavor invaded his tastebuds, his hand lifting your ass to tip your hips into his hot mouth. You gasped, pressing into Yoongi’s chest, your hands reaching behind you and gripping his slim waist. You had to tilt your body and lock your upper arms so you wouldn’t bump into his left shoulder by accident. Yoongi hummed soothingly, aware of your consideration, hands gently kneading your breasts as Jungkook’s wet tongue slid into your hole, witnessing your wanton expression as he sucked out your juices, adding a little suction, removing it, driving you insane.

“A-ah, yes, fuck, Jungkook, yes…”

When was the last time Yoongi ate you out? Months ago. Yoongi had a tongue unmatched, the perfect combination of speed, pressure, and technique. His tongue technology, one might say. Jungkook’s tongue was softer, less practiced, but he made up for it with enthusiasm and his intense gaze on you, moaning into your pussy. You slid down a little and cried out as his tongue made contact with your sensitive clit, his tongue pressing against it and swirling, sending shocks of pleasure through you, your thigh tensing against his cheek.

“Mm, yes, Jungkook, right there…”

Yoongi pinched and pulled your nipples. You snuck a glance at him, looking up, and realized he was looking down at you. His lips curved upwards to a playful smirk as he noticed your curious gaze. He tugged at your nipples, earning your soft whines.

“You moved down to put less strain on my shoulder?” he murmured fondly.

You nodded quickly, gasping as Jungkook sucked on your clit, causing you to roll your hips into his face. Jungkook grunted, digging his fingers into your ass, spreading you out under him. Fuck, his mouth was so soft and so warm, adding to your heat. Your hands worked into his hair, pressing him into you, his slurping sounds so lewd that your legs were quivering.

His eyes flickered to yours, pupils dilated, nose in your crotch, and, fuck, Jeon Jungkook was just so hot, on his knees and eating you out like a fucking buffet, his tattooed arm curved around you and your right thigh on his left shoulder, pressing against his cheek as your fingers curled in his blond locks, humping his face to add friction. Either Jungkook was inherently good at eating pussy or he had somehow rehearsed this and, considering his profession, you were guessing the former.

The Golden Maknae lived up to his name in appearance and talent.

You didn’t want to lean too much on Yoongi, so you put more of your weight onto Jungkook. He seemed to feel nothing at all, busy clamping his lips down on your clit and sucking harder. You sank your teeth into your lower lip, wail in your throat, squeezing your eyes shut as all of the sensations piled on you at once – Yoongi’s deft fingers playing with your nipples, Jungkook’s scorching mouth and tongue abusing your swollen clit, your hands gripping Jungkook’s soft hair and fucking his handsome face – and it was too much, all too much as your lower lip popped out of your teeth, moaning loudly as your orgasm radiated through you, throbbing waves rippling from your core as you came into Jungkook’s waiting mouth and chin, leaking all over his skin, dripping down his neck. He groaned, vibrating your clit, and you gasped, rutting into his face roughly, pressing your head into Yoongi’s torso.

“Oh, God, fuck, Jungkook, Yoongi…”

You weren’t sure if Jungkook was suffocating or not, but Jungkook himself didn’t seem to give a shit, cleaning you off with his tongue and burying his nose into your pussy, rubbing it against your clit. Your hips bucked at the sensitivity, your leg falling off his shoulder as you sucked in a breath. It forced his mouth to retreat, and you were greeted with the sight of Jungkook’s eyes slowly opening, his nose, lips, and chin covered in your glistening, viscous juices. He made eye contact with you, hand coming up to wipe it off, pink tongue sliding out and licking it from the back of his hand.

“Hah…” Jungkook panted, hungrily sucking up your taste. “That’s my drink of choice.”

You chuckled. “Sorry you can’t get it at a bar.”

Jungkook ticked his head, smirking devilishly. “I can if you’re sitting on the bar, legs spread open for me.”

Damn, what a visual. You straightened with the help of Yoongi, only for his right hand to close around your arm, yanking you to the bed. You started, bouncing slightly as you fell onto the mattress. Jungkook seemed amused, standing up to watch with interest. His blond hair was tousled wildly, messy from you holding onto his head. He smirked, lips dark pink from eating you out, the sharpness of his jawline standing out. But you couldn’t stare at him for long, because Yoongi plunged three fingers into your aching pussy, filling you up suddenly. You yelped, snapping your head to Yoongi’s dark, intense gaze, made darker by his black bangs shadowing his eyes.

“Y-Yoongi!”

He purred your name, giving you a teasing smile, tongue against the side of his pink lips.

“Mhm?”

“W-want…” You gasped as he slowly thrust into you, thumb knuckle rubbing against your inflamed clit, pushing his fingers in, your pussy clenching around them. “Want your cock…”

“Sorry, my love,” he murmured. “Can’t yet. Doctor’s orders.”

You furrowed your brows at him, raising your hips to meet his hand. “I’m beginning you think you’re enjoying denying me.”

Yoongi’s foxy smile implied just that. “What are you talking about?” He leaned down, tongue dancing between his teeth, snickering as you whimpered. “I’m not denying you. That’s why I asked Jungkook to come and stuff his big cock into you.”

You whimpered, biting your lip and snapped your legs closed, eyes rolling back into your head as you came all over his hand, soaking his skin and dripping onto the bed. Yoongi moaned softly as he felt your walls pulse against his fingers.

“Fuck, I love it when I can feel you cum for me.”

You shuddered, muscles tingling with pleasure. Yoongi pulled his fingers out slowly, groaning as he felt you tighten around them, trying to prevent him from leaving. He chuckled, raising an eyebrow.

“Could you help hyung out, Jungkook?”

You shifted your eyes to Jungkook, who suddenly froze, the fly of his black pants wide open, hand down his black boxer briefs. Yoongi noticed your startled expression and turned his head too, both eyebrows raising. Jungkook’s cheeks tinged pink.

“Er…”

“Were you jacking off just now?”

Jungkook’s eyes darted everywhere except Yoongi’s face. “Er…”

“Show me, Jungkook,” you breathed out.

His large doe-like eyes shot to your body to on the bed, legs spreading, Yoongi’s wet fingers hovering over your quivering mound. He stole a glance at Yoongi, who jerked his head towards you.

“She gave you an order.”

“Hyung…” Jungkook whined. “It’s embarrassing…”

Yoongi shrugged, his fingers touching your swollen clit. You jumped, gasping as he rubbed in slow, large circles, stimulating it gently. The sensitive bundle of nerves throbbed against his fingertips, pussy clenching around nothing.

“Y-Yoongi, don’t, I’m t-too sensitive,” you panted, legs threatening to close once more.

“Keep your legs open,” Yoongi said sternly. “Let Jungkookie see.”

You gritted your teeth, hands twisting in the sheets, hips raising to his hand. “I c-can’t… You’re too good, Yoongi…” You had to lock your knees to prevent them from collapsing inwards, feeling him build his speed, eyes fluttering closed as you moaned once more, feeling the pleasure flood throughout, wetter and wetter, your slit opening and closing. You felt Yoongi lean down, his black hair against your cheek. Oh, fuck. His pine-scented cologne. Sex. Yoongi. You resisted the urge to grab his head and fiercely make out with him. He wasn’t fully recovered yet. His voice was that low, raspy drawl, arousing you just as much as his fingers rubbing your clit.

“Open your eyes and see what you’ve done to poor Jungkook.”

You opened your eyes to see Jungkook was closer now, right next to the bed, pants and underwear around his knees as he pumped his cock right next to you, eyes fixated on Yoongi’s fingers and your sopping wet pussy, his pouty pink lips wet and open, blond hair all over his face. The head of his cock was an angry red, veins popping out along the thick length as he smeared his pre-cum over the tip with his finger, hissing at the sensitivity. He seemed to feel your stare and then your eyes locked.

“Jungkook…”

Breathlessly, his name drifting out of your lips like smoke.

His dark brown orbs were nearly black with how blown-out his pupils were. He gasped your name out, needy and desperate, his chin lifting, hair falling back to reveal his lustful dark eyes as his mouth opened, pink tongue lolling out a little.

“Wanna cum with you,” Jungkook begged. “Tell when you’re close. Please.”

You nodded, sharply cut off as Yoongi assaulted your clit, forearm nearly vibrating as he pushed you to the edge, so close, so close that you had to chomp down on the inside of your cheek to prevent yourself from orgasming right then and there.

“Y-Yoongi, he’s not ready yet…”

Yoongi chuckled. “Oh, I know.”

You whimpered, thighs caving in a little, but Yoongi growled deep in his chest, warning you.

“Don’t close your legs.”

Normally you would fight him, but this situation was different. You wanted to please Yoongi, give him everything he asked for because you knew he couldn’t get everything he wanted. Your core tightened, the pitch of your cries hiking as you tried to hold back, staring at Jungkook’s long fingers wrapped around his thick, stiff cock, black tattoos rippling on tan skin as he chased his climax, watching your legs shake with strain as Yoongi took you to your limits. Your wetness was soaking a puddle into the sheets, the scent of your arousal so strong it seemed to prevail all others.

Fuck, you couldn’t anymore, you just couldn’t.

“J-Jungkook… a-ah, gonna cum soon, fuck, Yoongi, fuck, you’re too fucking good!”

Your last words turned into a wild, guttural moan as you came, hips ramming into Yoongi’s hand, back arching, your orgasm pulling you up taut like a marionette on a string, thighs shaking as your pussy throbbed with release. Your juices dripped down like honey, splattering over your thighs and down your ass before you abruptly fell, legs crumpling as Yoongi’s hand cupped your hot, trembling mound, his heavy pants mixing with yours. He groaned softly, feeling your puffy pussy lips and clit flinch and jerk as the aftershocks rippled through your nerves.

Jungkook whined deep in his throat, splattering his cum all over your leg and on the sheets, hot thick strings that made you shudder as it covered your skin. He pumped it all out, emptying it on you. Surely, you couldn’t muster the strength to take a dick right now. But one look at Jungkook and his hand still gripping his cock, slowly, delicately stroking it once more, staring at the mess that both of you made, sweat beaded on his forehead.

Yeah, no, you definitely wanted it in you.

“Jungkook…”

He raised his head, ash blond strands soaked with sweat, wispy around his eyes.

“Want your cock.”

He smirked. “What do you say?”

Now. You resisted the urge to be a smartass. There were other ways.

“Let noona’s wet, tight pussy take care of you,” you purred.

The dominant spark in Jungkook’s eyes flitted away, replaced by his submissive doe eyes, his desire, his desperation. Fuck, it was so fun seeing that, the duality, reminding you so much of Yoongi and his softness juxtaposed with his sarcasm. Yoongi removed his hand, moving to the nightstand and grabbing a towel, reaching over to wipe Jungkook’s cum off you. You sat up, taking the towel from him as you noticed him leaning on his left arm.

“Ah, be careful,” you reprimanded, shooing him away.

Yoongi narrowed his eyes at you. “I’m not broken.”

“You’re not fixed either,” you pouted, cleaning yourself up. You made eye contact with him and he clicked his tongue, nodding. Yoongi was about to move away, but you grabbed a fistful of his sweatpants, pulling him back. He tilted his head, sending you an inquisitive look.

“I shouldn’t do any more,” he murmured. “I can just watch.”

You yanked the side of his pants down and Yoongi arched an eyebrow. Your eyes on his crotch, then back to his face. Your lips parted, tongue flickering out. He could put two and two together.

“You can do some things without moving.”

His gaze sharpened. “I’m going to want to fuck your face.”

Your lips curved into a smirk. “Well, you can’t. You’ll have to sit there and take it like a good boy.” You removed your hand and patted the pillows, grinning. “I want to get spit roasted.”

Yoongi sucked in a tight breath, eyebrow twitching.

“It’s not really a spit roast unless you’re the passive one,” Yoongi tried to argue as he tugged his pants down, getting onto the bed. You scooted down, feeling a hard, firm body come up behind you, hands sliding up your waist to cup you breasts. You moaned softly, pressing your ass against Jungkook’s leaking cock, feeling it throb against your skin.

“Need a condom, hyung,” Jungkook panted, exhaling in satisfaction as his fingers ran over your nipples, earning pleading gasps.

Yoongi reached over to grab one as you reached back, running your hand over Jungkook’s semi-hard length, spreading the pre-cum down the head. Your fingertip touched the slit and he shivered, whining against your neck.

“Noona, don’t…”

You took the condom from Yoongi with your free hand, wrapping your fingers around Jungkook’s cock as he moaned, tugging at your nipples repeatedly. Your hips jerked involuntarily, skin rubbing against the sensitive head, making him groan.

“Need you hard for me.”

You stroked him slowly, not too tight, not too loose, his warm cock throbbing in your hand. You felt one of Jungkook’s hands leave your chest, gripping your hand tightly around his cock. His cock swelled at the sudden stop, pressing against your palm. His lips touched your ear and you shivered at his voice, low and dangerous, almost feral.

“Oh, I’ll be hard,” Jungkook snarled softly. “Impossible not to be hard…” His other hand dropped, snaking down your stomach. You tensed up as he neared closer and closer. Yoongi cleared his throat and your head snapped up to see him tilting his head, observing closely with an amused smirk.

“Jungkook, d-don’t…”

“… In this pussy.”

And you moaned loudly, feeling two of his fingers slip down and spread your pussy lips, engorged clit poking out from your repeated orgasms. Even the small stimulation made you wetter, drenching the inside of your thighs as Yoongi’s hungry eyes watched Jungkook spread you open for him to see.

“Spread your legs for hyung,” Jungkook ordered, nipping at your earlobe.

You whined, opening your thighs and tipping them up for Yoongi to see your glistening, pink pussy lips forced open by Jungkook’s fingers, your walls pulsing with need. Your hand was still around Jungkook’s cock, holding his hardness as you watching Yoongi’s right hand enclose his already stiff length, licking his lips at this dirty display.

“Flick her clit, Jungkook.”

You cried out, hips bucking as Jungkook flicked your clit with his nail, releasing his cock and falling onto your hands, staring into Yoongi’s mischievous, triumphant eyes. The condom fluttered to the bed, dropped by the sudden shock of painful ecstasy.

“P-Please…” Too many orgasms, too much pleasure. It was turning you into a mess, taking over you, leaving you at the mercy of the two men, crawling towards Yoongi, ass up in the air as you went low, looking up at him, pleading him. “Need you in my mouth, Yoongi. Wanna make you feel good.”

Yoongi removed his hand, ticking his chin to Jungkook. “Ask him to shove his dick into you.”

You bit your lip, turning back and wiggling your ass, seeing Jungkook roll the condom down. His eyes on yours, sending shivers down your spine with his intense gaze and naughty smirk.

“Jungkook.” Even his name from your lips seemed to darken his chocolate orbs with lust. “Want your cock to fill me up.”

“That’s too nice,” Yoongi chided.

Your ears burned. But, well, desperate times call for desperate measures.

“Jungkook, please, please use my pussy to cum, fuck, want you inside me so fucking bad.”

He groaned, sliding up to you, gripping your hips, pressing his fingers into your ass, positioning himself right at your entrance.

“You sound so fucking sexy begging for cock,” he purred. “I just have to give it to you.”

And then he plunged into you, both of you moaning so loudly that the soundproof walls were saving you once again, so wet that your pussy squelched around his thick cock. Ah, he just felt so good, so hard and unforgiving, stretching you out forcefully. You turned back to Yoongi, lowering your head as he spread his legs for you, lifting his shirt as you swallowed his cock, eyelids fluttering as his taste was on your lips once again, invading your mouth, familiar and wonderful. You saw Yoongi moan watching you, cat-like eyes shrouded with lust, biting his lip as you sank down, vibrating his cock with your cries as Jungkook’s length fully entered you, his balls hitting your over-stimulated clit.

So full.

Oh, fuck.

You tried to say Yoongi’s name around his cock, hoping your eyes could tell him what you meant. I missed this so fucking much. His perfect length filling your mouth, smelling so good and so him, burying itself in your throat.

“Fuck,” Yoongi breathed. “Fuck, you look so fucking beautiful taking two cocks at once.”

Jungkook slid out a little and thrust into you. You whimpered around Yoongi, staring into his eyes, tightening your throat muscles as you opened your lips, tongue unfurling down, down.

“Yes, fuck, yes,” Yoongi hissed, tipping his head back as he felt your tongue on his balls, his stiff cock throbbing as you rubbed it against the roof of your mouth, slapping his balls with your tongue at the same time, warm saliva dripping down and coating them. “Yes, fuck, you’re so good at that, fuck, I love you so fucking much, a-ah…”

And now Jungkook was really fucking you, hard, deep thrusts that shoved you repeatedly onto Yoongi’s cock. You had to retreat your head a little to prevent yourself from choking, but you didn’t stop licking Yoongi’s balls, his handsome face painted with pleasure, murmuring your name, praising you. You swiped your tongue from his balls to the tip of his member, teasing the sensitive skin underneath the head expertly before sliding back down. Up and down, stroking him with your tongue. Yoongi groaned, hips rising into your throat. Fuck, you loved seeing his normally serious face completely consumed by lust, loved the way he lost himself to you.

And, oh fuck, you loved the how you felt as your pussy was assaulted by Jungkook’s cock, stretching you out, pressing against your walls, filling you up as you squeezed him back, massaging all of him as he descended.

“Your pussy is so tight,” Jungkook panted. “Fuck, so tight and so wet, I love it so much, I love fucking you noona, you’re just so fucking good at taking cock.”

You withdrew your tongue from Yoongi’s balls, encasing your lips around his length and sucking hard, creating a tight, wet vacuum, Jungkook’s hips slapping against yours adding to your motion. Yoongi gasped, spreading his fingers on the bed, head pressed into the headboard. His dark eyes were half-lidded, watching your ass bounce as Jungkook fucked you onto his cock, forcing you to swallow him at a quick, rough pace.

“Fuck, I knew it would be good,” Yoongi breathed, gaze shifting to you and your eyes looking up at him, witnessing his satisfied expression. “Look at you. So fucking perfect, lips wrapped around my cock, Jungkook’s dick squeezed by your pretty pussy.” It made you wetter, knowing Yoongi was liking this, knowing he was aroused seeing you like this. His hand came up and tucked your hair back, fingertips brushing against your forehead. His touch made you whine, encouraging you to fuck Jungkook back eagerly, ass slapping into his crotch, bobbing your head up and down faster, tighter.

And Yoongi’s eyes on you, telling you everything. I want you, I need you, I love you.

I love you.

I’ll give you anything I can, because I can’t give you everything.

And Jungkook’s cock was twitching in your pussy, indicating he was close, his husky moans filling up the room as Yoongi’s own breathing shallowed, drinking in every detail, not wanting to miss any moment of you getting fucked so carnally, sinfully full from front to back, whole body shaking from the previous multiple orgasms. You could tell that he wanted you to feel so much pleasure that you were wrecked and it was working, oh, fuck, it was working as pleasure crawled to every fiber of your being, forgetting that your jaw and pussy were aching, forgetting your knees were basically jelly, forgetting you had any other responsibilities in life except making Yoongi and Jungkook cum with your tight, wet holes, so fueled by adrenaline that you rocked your body back and forth, stimulating both at once.

Your eyes locked with Yoongi’s.

Cum for me.

“I’m close,” he murmured. “Tighter. Choke Jungkook’s cock with your perfect pussy.”

You hollowed your cheeks and squeezed your core. You heard Jungkook yelp, fingertips digging into your ass.

“A-ah, c-can’t hold on…” Jungkook rambled, eyes rolling back, gasping for breath. “You’re so lucky, hyung, fuck, so lucky she’s yours.”

Jungkook smacked his hips into you, once, twice, letting out a deep groan as he came, shooting into you, cock throbbing against your walls as his balls slapped your clit, sending you over the edge as you whined around Yoongi’s cock, feeling it jerk in your mouth as he came down your throat, thick, delicious saltiness sliding down, pooling on your tongue, your pussy pulsing in time with Yoongi, drinking him as your pussy shivered around Jungkook’s cock, milking him dry. Your body shuddered hard, trembling from head to toe, the ferocity of your orgasm rattling you, so much so that it felt like the world was spinning. You popped your mouth off of Yoongi’s cock, sliding down against his thigh, wheezing for oxygen.

Yoongi’s hand instantly came up to touch your shoulder, caressing it tenderly. “Are you okay?”

You nodded, hot breath against his skin, knees sliding down, taking Jungkook with you because he also was at the point of exhaustion. Yoongi frowned at you and you gave him a weak thumbs up, cheekily grinning at him, wiping the spit off your chin with his thigh.

Yoongi narrowed his eyes. “Don’t you thumbs-up me, woman, tell me you’re not dying.”

You leaned against his thigh, sighing as Jungkook pulled out of you.

“I’m very pleased,” you exhaled happily.

“I’m glad the god is satisfied with her sacrifice,” Yoongi remarked dryly, trying to sound annoyed but his affectionate smile gave him away. You smiled back before turning around, finding Jungkook on his back, chest heaving, hair soaked with sweat. You scooted down to him, brushing ash blond strands away from his face. His eyes were closed, pretty lashes against his skin, cheeks flushed pink with exertion.

“I… I can go…” Jungkook mumbled. “Give you guys some alone time and stuff.”

“Jungkook.”

His opened his eyes, brown orbs shifting to you. Apologetic, kind.

“Do you want this to be more?”

His lips curved into a smile. It didn’t quite reach his eyes. “No. This is fine.”

“Don’t lie to her,” Yoongi scolded, moving to sit beside you and glare down at him.

Jungkook swallowed, looking away. “I don’t… I don’t want to be a burden, hyung. I don’t want to ruin your relationship.”

“Don’t you think you would have done that already if that was possible?” Yoongi scoffed, placing his hand on yours, rubbing your knuckles.

Jungkook eyes flickered to your joined hands, then to your face.

“R-Really…?”

You exchanged a glance with Yoongi and he poked your forehead, exasperated.

“Have I not maybe yourself clear with you?” Yoongi grumbled grumpily. His eyes shifted down, letting out a long sigh. “I can’t give you everything. I can’t go on dates. I can’t kiss you in public. I can’t even hold your hand or stand near you outside this fucking door.” The frustration was clear in his voice. You wanted to wrap your arms around him and tell him it was okay, but you resisted, letting him get his words out. He turned to Jungkook, his dark brown eyes serious and sad.

“You can’t do that either, you know? It’s lonely. It sucks. You can only have moments like these, behind closed doors.”

Jungkook looked up at him, expression unreadable.

“Then why… why did you share it with me?”

“Because,” Yoongi started, eyes flickering to you. “Because I wanted to make her happy. Because I can’t do everything, but I can do some things. And because Bangtan is everything to me.” Yoongi was mumbling a little, not used to this level of emotion. “If I can maybe make you happy too, Jungkook, why wouldn’t I try?”

You could see Jungkook was also awkward because this was a delicate situation with even more complicated emotions, made more complex that they were two members of the same idol group, almost like brothers in closeness, held to the same rules and the same restrictions. Jungkook blinked rapidly, clearing his watering eyes. He looked away, hastily rubbing them with the back of his hand.

“Will it… Will it be less lonely if I’m with you, hyung, noona?” The younger man swallowed hard, clearing his vision and looking back up at both of you, brown eyes glassy. “Will it… suck less?”

You smiled, nodding slowly. “It would suck a whole lot less.”

Yoongi made a noise of affirmation, scrunching his nose. He was also blinking quite a bit, although he hid it better than Jungkook did.

Jungkook slid his right hand on the sheets, in front of your joined hands. Yoongi’s eyes darted about before he inhaled deeply, picking up your hand and plopping it on Jungkook’s, sandwiching it between the two larger palms. You pressed your fingertips against Jungkook’s knuckles, feeling Yoongi’s reassuring pat on the back of your hand, warmed from above and below.

Yoongi gave you his usual, apprehensive smile, as if he didn’t know what to do with his face when being told to look happy.

Jungkook grinned, bright bunny teeth flashing, eyes and nose scrunching with affection.

You couldn’t resist.

“Is this allowed?” you asked with a wide smirk.

Yoongi laughed, raspy and pretty.

“Definitely not.”

Jungkook sat up a bit, furrowing his brow as if he just remembered something.

“Wait, what about noona’s private Instagram tho–”

part iv “That's not allowed! You know what that does to me.“

masterpost

#yoongi x reader #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #yoongi smut #yoonkook x reader #yoonkook smut #suga x reader #min yoongi smut #jeon jungkook smut #yoongi x you #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi x you #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you #bts smut #suga x you

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sketching-shark · 3 years

Note

I think we should start a protection squad (although they don’t need it because they can protect themselves) for Sun Wukong and Guanyin

“Begone monkie kid fandom trying to down grade these really interesting characters with interesting personality’s and backstory ( the both of them like seriously Guanyin backstory is so cool) to a villain wile trying to justify your angsty backstory (that are no where near as cool as monkey who fights gods and Person who has 1000 arms and heads to help people in need) for the actual villain”

So who wants to join

Me:*raises my hand*

Ps: sorry if I got Guanyin backstory wrong am not an expert on it.

Haha okay so some critiques on the jttw & associated media western fandom & fandom in general coming up, so please skip this upcoming text wall if you don't want to encounter my undoubtedly ~devastating~ words (i.e. don't like don't read as people love to say, & if I have to be inundated with images of my notp every time I go into the sun wukong tag then I imagine people can be chill with me expressing my opinions & giving people fair warning that I WILL be critiquing common fandom trends, but no need for you to see that if you don’t want to. Cool? Cool.)

-----

PFFFFFTTT oh man there are many times when I feel like signing up for such a protection squad...when it comes to the current western jttw & Sun Wukong fandom I do feel like I'm often swinging at a rapid pace between "well it's fandom & people are allowed to make the stories they want" & "I am once again begging my fellow monkie kid enthusiasts (& sometimes creators) to do more research into the og classic/show it more respect so you can avoid any potentially offensive/off-the-mark misunderstandings of the status & cultural context of the characters in their country of origin (I promise it's super interesting & I can provide you with links to free pdf copies of the entire Yu translation, i.e. the best one ever created, so feel free to ask!) & maybe also stop constantly stripping away all the nuance of Sun Wukong's character for the sake of either making him an entire asshole so your little meow meow can look completely innocent in comparison and/or making the monkey king's entire life & character revolve around said meow meow."

Like I get that fandom's supposed to be a kind of anything-goes environment, but one thing that honestly seems to be true of a lot of fandoms--and the western one for Sun Wukong & co. is certainly not immune from this--is that there often seems to be a kind of monoculturalization at work in what stories are created & what character interpretations are made popular. Across a multitude of fandoms, you frequently see basically nothing but the exact same tropes being made popular & even being insisted on for the canonical work (especially hasty redemption arcs & enemies to lovers these days), the exact same one-dimensional character types that characters from an original work keep getting shoved into, the exact same story beats, etc. And I get it to an extent, as fandom is generally a space where people just make art and fic for fun & without thinking too hard about it & without any pressure.

This seems to, however, often unfortunately lead to the mentality that it’s your god-given right to do literally whatever you want with literally any cultural figure without even the slightest bit of thought put into their cultural, historical, and even religious context, even (and sometimes especially) when it comes to figures that are really important in a culture outside your own. For such figures--even if you first encounter them in a children’s cartoon--you should be a little more careful with what you do with them than you would with your usual Saturday morning line-up. It of course has to be acknowledged that there exists a whole pile of absolutely ridiculous & cursed pieces of media that are based on Journey to the West & that were produced in mainland China, but for your own education if nothing else I consider it good practice for those of us (myself certainly included) who aren’t part of the culture that produced JTTW to put more thought into how we might want to portray these characters so that at the very least (to pull some things I’ve seen from the jttw western fandom) we’re not turning a goddess of mercy into an evil figure for the sake of Angst(TM), or relegating other important literary figures into the positions of offensive stereotypes, or making broad claims about the source text & original characterizations of various figures that are blatantly untrue, or mocking heavenly deities because of what’s actually your misunderstanding of how immortality works according to Daoist beliefs. Yet while a lot of this is often due to people not even trying to understand the context these figures are coming from, I do want to acknowledge that the journey (lol reference) to understand even a fraction of the original cultural context can be a daunting one, especially since, as I’ve mentioned before, it can be really hard & even next to impossible to find good, accessible, & legitimate explanations in English of how, for example, the relationship between Sun Wukong and the Six-Eared Macaque is commonly interpreted in China & according to the Buddhist beliefs that define the original work.

That is to say, I do think it’s an unfortunate, if unavoidable, part of any introduction of an original text into a culture foreign to its own for there to be sometimes a significant amount of misinterpretation, mistranslations, and false assumptions. There is, however, a big difference between learning from your honest mistakes, & doubling down on them while dismissing all criticism of your misinterpretation into that abstract category of “fandom drama.” The latter attitude is kind of shitty at best and horrifically entitled at worst.

Plus, as I’ve discovered, there is a great deal of interest and joy to be drawn from keeping yourself open to learning aspects of these texts & figures that you weren’t aware of! I can say from my own experience that I’ve always really enjoyed & appreciated it when individuals on this site who come from a Chinese background--and who know much more about the cultural context of JTTW than me--have taken the time to explain its various aspects. It often leaves me feeling like woooooaaaahhhhhHHH!!!! as to how amazingly full of nuanced meaning JTTW is like dang no wonder it’s one of China’s Four Great Classical Novels.

And I guess that right there is the heart of a lot of my own personal frustration and disappointment with the ways that fandoms often approach a literary work or other piece of media...like don’t get me wrong, a lot of the original works a fandom may grow around are just straight-up goofy & everyone’s aware of it & has fun with it, yet the trend of approaching what are often nuanced and multi-layered works in terms of how well they fit and/or can be shoved into pretty cliche ideas of Redemption Arc or Enemies to Lovers or Hero Actually Bad, Villain Actually Good etc...well, it just seems to cheapen and even erase even the possibility of understanding the wonderful complexity or even endearing simplicity that made these works so beloved in the first place. Again, I feel like I need to make it clear that I’m not saying fandom should be a space where people are constantly trying to one-up each other with their hot takes in literary analysis, but it would be nice and even beneficial to allow room for commentary that strives to approach these works in a multi-faceted way, analysis & interpretations that go against the popular fandom beliefs, & criticism of the work or even of fandom trends (yes it is in fact possible to legitimately love something but still be critical of its aspects) instead of immediately attacking people who try to engage in such as just being haters who don’t want anyone to have fun ever (X_X).

----

Anyway, I know I didn’t cover even half of the stuff you brought up in the first place anon, but I don’t want any interested parties to this post to suffer too long through my text wall lol. I was asked to try my hand at illustrating Guanyin, but as with you I’m nowhere near as informed as I should be about her, so I want to do more research on her history and religious importance before I attempt a portrait. I’ll try my best, and do plan to pair that illustration with my own outsider’s attempt to summarize her character. From what little I do know I am in full agreement that her backstory is so incredibly amazing...just the fact that she literally eschewed the bliss of Nirvana to help all beings reach it, and even split herself into pieces in the attempt to do so (with Buddha granting her eleven heads and a thousand arms as a result)...man, I can see why she’s such a beloved & respected deity.

----

As for what western fandom commonly does with everyone’s favorite god-fighting primate...I can talk about this at length if there’s interest, but for this post I’ll just say that I guess one lesson from all of this is that for all the centuries that have passed since Journey to the West was first completed, literally no one drawing inspiration from the original tale in the west (lol) has come even slightly close to being able to equal or even capture half the extent of the nuance, complexity, religious, historical, and cultural aspects, and humor that define Wu Cheng'en's story of an overpowered monkey who defied even Buddha.

So thank the heavens we'll always have the original.

#journey to the west #jttw #guanyin #sun wukong #monkey king #monkie kid #fandom #fandom critical

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sweetdreamsofgelato · 4 years

Text

The Cat’s Meow

(gif from Google. If it’s yours, lemme know so I can credit.)

Pairing: Henry x Female!Reader

Summary: Henry meets your cat

Rating: M, just to be on the safe side (nothing explicit but tagged as smut just in case)

Word Count: 1331

Warnings/Content: All fluff, with a few allusions to smut

A/N:

This request comes from @agniavateira based on the prompt below. Thank you so much for requesting this. It was such fun to write, and it helped to get me out of my head with my other WIPs. 😚

Unbeta-ed. All mistakes are my own.

Reposting my works on any other sites or platforms is strictly prohibited (my official AO3 is linked in my master list). Likes, comments, and reblogs are always greatly appreciated.

“So, I have something to confess,” you said as you turned ever so slightly toward Henry, who was putting forth his best attempt at patience as you slid your key into the front door bolt.

Henry nimbly slid one arm around your waist and pulled you into his chest as he peppered the side of your neck with featherlight kisses. “I imagine you’ll have a few more once I am through with you.”

“I am sure that is true too, but…” Your laughter dissolved into a moan when he nipped gently at your earlobe.

“But…” Henry prompted as his hands began to wander.

You playfully swatted him away. “You’re distracting.”

“It’s a well-cultivated talent.”

You grumbled something under your breath as you finally turned the key in the bolt and pushed the door open. Henry crowded you through the threshold, and you just barely escaped his grasp again as you flipped on the light.

“You’re slippery tonight,” he remarked with a waggish expression.

You turned toward him, one brow arched with an unspoken rejoinder.

“Is something wrong?” His tone grew slightly more serious. “Usually you’ve ripped half my clothing off by now.”

It was true; ever since the two of you had come to your arrangement (friends with benefits was the most polite term for it), you managed to make it all the way to the bedroom only about half the time, and that was being generous.

“Yes well, this is the first time we’ve been to my place, and I realised that I forgot to mention something.”

Henry stilled at the hesitance in your voice. “A good something or bad something?”

“That depends,” you replied, hanging your coat up on the hook by the entryway.

Henry followed suit, since it appeared that clothes would not be strewn across the room this evening. His head dipped down close to your ear, and his voice dropped low.

“Do you have a dodgy flatmate I need to worry about?”

“Not exactly.”

He breathed a sigh of relief before moving onto his next guess. “Embarrassingly large plushie collection?”

You chuckled and shook your head. You hadn’t intended for this to become a guessing game.

Henry made a grand show of looking lost in thought and his lips ticked into a devious smile. “Secret sex dungeon?”

“Henry, don’t be silly.” That certainly escalated quickly, though Henry did have the tendency to be single-minded when it came to sex. “I don’t even have a cellar, let alone a dungeon.”

He shrugged with wistful disappointment. “A man can dream.”

Before you had a chance to say anything more, there was a rustling to your left, Henry followed your gaze toward the opening into the living room, from which sauntered your sleek, short-haired black cat.

“Speak of the devil,” you said.

Oscar slowly strutted toward you, his tail moving in unhurried flicks as he acknowledged you with a lazy, rolling meow that sounded suspiciously dismissive.

Henry looked between you and the cat and then back again. “Wha — a cat? That’s the confession?”

“Does it seem so unbelievable that I would have a cat?”

“No,” he drew the word out slowly, “it just seems odd that one would think there was a need to confess to having one.”

“You don’t know my cat,” you grumbled as you planted your hands on your hips. “He’s a haughty, ill-tempered little demon who…” your eyes grew wide when Oscar pranced toward Henry and wound affectionately between his legs, “…hates everyone.”

“Oh yes,” Henry crooned as he knelt down to scratch Oscar under his chin, “he’s an absolute beast.”

You let out a short huff of disbelief. “He’s never done that before.”

“What can I say…” Henry gave Oscar one more rub before he rose and slowly stalked toward you. He drew you closer and finished his salacious thought with a whisper in your ear.

Heat immediately erupted across your skin. “Let me guess, another well-cultivated talent?”

Henry pulled you in for a kiss and let his actions speak for themselves.

When you rose the next morning, Henry was already gone, as was typical when he was busy. You were by no means a morning person, and when Henry had to get up well before the crack of dawn, you gave him full permission to see himself out without so much as a goodbye.

Besides, the arrangement between you was completely casual. You were friends and you both thoroughly enjoyed your physical relationship, but it never extended beyond that, and thus you didn’t require the typical emotional pampering that you might’ve if your feelings were more deeply invested.

When you finally dragged your deliciously sore body downstairs for breakfast, you found a note stuck to your fridge.

Oscar wouldn’t stop meowing at me when I tried to leave, so I distracted him with food. He was demanding and insatiable, much like his owner. xx H

You chuckled as you filled your kettle. Oscar — indulging in his morning ritual of bird-watching — was perched by the small window above the sink that overlooked your modest back garden.

You gave him a quick pat on the head, but his only acknowledgement of your presence was an irritated flick of his tail.

Typical.

“I should’ve named you Judas,” you grumbled as you set your kettle to boil.

Oscar barely turned toward the sound of your voice and if cats were capable of rolling their eyes, you were sure he would have done.

The next time Henry came over, Oscar greeted him at the door and mewled insistently until Henry knelt down and showered him with affection. Only once Oscar was completely satisfied did he let Henry pass.

“I feel like you have horribly mischaracterised your cat,” Henry remarked lightly as he tugged your shirt over your head and tossed it across the hall. “He’s quite affectionate.”

“I assure you I haven’t,” you replied as you made quick work of his belt. “I don’t know what sort of spell you cast over him, but he barely tolerates me, and that’s probably only because I feed and shelter him.”

Henry smirked before he tore his own shirt over his head. “Like I said, I have a way with—”

“Yes, yes I know,” you cut him off as you playfully shoved him down the hall toward your bedroom.

A few weeks later, Henry came over for takeaway and a chat, but it wasn’t long before you were straddling him on the couch as you devoured each other.

You caught his lower lip with your teeth and he let out a startled grunt.

“Oh sorry, did I hurt you?”

“No, it’s not you.”

You pulled back and opened your eyes to find Oscar bumping his head against Henry’s cheek. He purred madly as he wound in front of Henry’s face before trying to wedge himself into the sliver of space between your bodies.

This was getting ridiculous. “Oscar, shoo.”

You tried to gently push him aside, but Oscar shot you a look of pure defiance as he planted himself squarely on Henry’s chest.

Henry tilted his head to the side and grinned at you, looking inordinately pleased with himself for having won over your irascible cat with zero effort.

You jabbed a finger at him and said, “Don’t you dare say it.”

Later, when the creak of your bedroom door woke you in the middle of the night, you turned over and your drowsy gaze caught Oscar just as he hopped onto Henry’s pillow.

Was nothing sacred?

Oscar padded around gently, just enough to rouse Henry into shifting to a position that allowed him to nestle into the cradle of Henry’s elbow.

You let out a breathy oh at the sight. Even you had to admit that there was something particularly adorable about a man of Henry’s size curled up with such a small animal, even if it was your obstinately grumpy cat.

When Henry gave Oscar a sleepy scratch behind the ears before drifting off again, you felt your heart flop earnestly in your chest and you gasped.

“Oh no.”

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everlarkficexchange · 3 years

Text

Magic as Always

Written by: @alliswell21

Prompt 71: Magic of Ordinary Days AU: 1940s, Katniss is a single pregnant girl. Desperate for her daughter not to have a child out of wedlock, Mrs Everdeen contacts a priest who in turn knows a young man who just may be willing to help. Sweet, kind and shy Peeta stayed home to take care of the family farm when his beloved brother went to war to never come back. He’s always wanted a family but rural small town life gives little chance to court. He hears of Katniss’ plight and graciously offers to marry her and raise the child as his own. He does everything he can think of to make a home for Katniss and the baby. How does Katniss take it? How does their relationship develop? Will they fall in love? [submitted by anonymous]

Rating: this chapter is rated Teens and Up

Tags: Historical!AU; WWII; 1940’s Era views on marriage, sexism, pregnancy, etc; Katniss/Marvel relationship; Non-graphic Unprotected Sex; Unplanned Pregnancy; Arrange Marriage; Miscellaneous Religious views; Grief/Mourning; Canon Characters Death; OOC!Mrs.Everdeen; Somewhat OOC!Katniss; Everlark is Endgame; Other tags to be added.

Notes: Thank you Anon for this prompt. I must confess, I’ve never seen the movie ‘The Magic of Ordinary Days’ or read the book the movie is based on. I did a quick skimming on the plot of the movie and then dug up all kinds of reviews on the book, most of my plot points come from a combination of movie and book (which apparently differ only in a few parts), besides what the prompter asked for. I just really loved this prompt, and see the potential of this story, which will be a few chapters long, cross posted to AO3 and I already have a good chunk written ;) The rating will be adjusted too, because there will be explicit Everlark smut in the following chapters. Anon, I hope I don’t disappoint you, this story will be only loosely based on the source material, and adapted to fit THG characters in the narrative, I will try to stick to the main plot points as much as I can, but I’m also taking several liberties with the story. I hope you still like it though.

KPKPKPKPKPKPKPKP

Prim died on a Tuesday, after a very long, strenuous battle with poliomyelitis. My sweet little sister’s face looked as fresh as a dew drop even in death.

“Come now, Katniss,” my mother calls from the open door of the mortuary hall, where visitation took place an hour ago.

The mortician has arranged for the coffin to be taken to the cemetery and put in the ground this afternoon. There will be no graveside mourning. It’s all we could pay for, but then again the war has left everyone penniless nowadays.

A big, rotund man comes to close the coffin, and offers a curt nod.

That’s it then. The very last time I’ll ever set eyes on Primrose’s sweet face.

“Katniss,” Mother whispers, insistently. It’s probably all she can muster before breaking down in tears.

I look on at the box my sister’s body lies in, numb and heartsick. I bring my 3 middle fingers to my lips and then rise them in the air. My last salute to my beloved Little Duck. I step away from the coffin and shuffle towards mother.

Up close, I can see the deep, dark bruises under my mother’s eyes. She used to be beautiful in her youth— according to friends and old photographs— but now she just looks tired and defeated. I guess having to bury first her husband and then her 15 year old daughter, in less than a year, would have that effect on anyone.

Prim would’ve looked like our mother, with their soft blonde locks, almond shaped blue eyes and alabaster skin. She had a softer spirit though, she enjoyed music and loved animals. She always said that if she was older, she would’ve joined the Red Cross and signed up to serve as a nurse to our boys in the Pacific, like Father did… Father wasn’t a nurse though, he was a chaplain.

It’s funny to think that I inherited so much of my father, like my dark hair, gray eyes and olive skin. We both also share the same aversion to human pain and blood that moves my mother and Prim to action; but unlike Prim, my father’s calling to help the soldiers in their worst situations, passed me and went directly to my baby sister.

I sigh… Prim would’ve made a terrific army nurse, if only she hadn’t wasted in bed with that odious disease! If she had been given the chance to live, I’m sure Prim would’ve had so many boys trailing after her. She would marry at some point and have a beautiful full life.

I don’t plan on marrying and having a family. If the acute pain in my own chest wasn’t enough warning, watching my mother walk silently from the funeral home to our apartment, with her head bowed and listening to her quiet sobs at night would be enough evidence that there’s too much sorrow in losing one’s husband and children.

I think my efforts will be better spent in cultivating my mind, and getting my degree in botany, like my father always dreamed, anyway… plus, I’m not much of a looker… not like Prim at any rate.

We finally arrived at our modest home. Mother drifts ghost-like into the door, and then we both shuffle quietly into our separate bedrooms. There won’t be a meal at the table tonight, but I make sure Prim’s old tomcat gets fed and watered, and after he meows in distress at my sister’s door, I open mine, and let him strut inside my bedroom and hop into my bed. The hideous fur ball and I distrust each other, but he understands his mistress is never coming back, and he’s the last thing I have from her… so he lets me pet him and he cuddles close to my chest as I fall asleep, crying.

——————————-

Mother and I walk slowly through the busy streets of town, mostly ignoring the bustle and disarray around us. People shout, cars honk horns, a baby cries in the distance, and the few young men rush back and forth in the busy sidewalks, like they’re being lashed by invisible whips.

“We should stop by the grocer and see if we can pick up some eggs.” Says my mother, pulling her “Sugar Book” out of her handbag.

Because of the war, everything is being rationed, from sugar to shoes.

I could care less about food and clothing, though. But I still go into the shop, dutifully.

I’m so immersed in my own thoughts, I don’t see the lanky man walking towards me with his arms full of vittles.

We collide. The man’s groceries fly up in every direction, raining over me, as I sit on my rump on the floor.

My mother is nowhere to be seen. Typical.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you there!” Says the man, pulling a packet of oatmeal from the floor, while extending his other hand to help me up.

“No… it’s alright, I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

“Well, let’s agree that we’re both klutzes, and leave it at that?” The man offers.

I’m on my feet, dusting my skirt off and righting my blouse, “Sure, let’s do that.” I scowl at the skew state of my clothes and finally look up at the man.

He’s smiling down at me, and I must admit, his smile is dazzling. He’s got short brown hair, greenish-brown eyes, and a smattering of freckles over his nose. He also towers above me.

“My stars! If it isn’t Katniss Everdeen!” The young man says, unexpectedly excited.

I blink owlishly at him, and try to place his face, but I’m horrible at remembering people. Or their names.

“Marvel Quaid,” he offers genially, unfazed by my lack of response, “we went to grade school together?” He prompts, “My pa used to sell luxury goods in District One?”

“Oh, I think it’s coming back now,” I say smiling for the first time in what feels like months. “You used to throw sticks, pretending they were spears or something,” I tell him, showing that indeed, I do remember him.

Marvel scrunches his nose, “Javelins, actually. I was pretending I threw javelins. I saw a fellow doing it for the Olympics in a film, and then he won a medal for it. I thought to myself that making a victory lap with the good old American flag flapping after oneself looked like fun; well, I wanted to be a victor too!” He chuckles, then deflates. “But as everything, those dreams are gone now, crushed to dust under the weight of the war.”

As is the norm, once the war gets brought up, gloominess settles on, dampening the cheeriest of spirits.

“I’m sorry,” I say. “I’m all too familiar with the sentiment.”

Marvel nods, grimly.

“We lost Father in France.” I’m not sure why I said it. “We put my sister in the ground last week, too.” I avert my eyes.

“Aww, geez, Kit… that’s truly awful. I’m so sorry for your loss,”

I’m mildly surprised I don’t immediately recoil at his little pet name. I guess the fact that he doesn’t sound condescending while delivering his condolences, helps.

“Oh, well, as my father would’ve said, at least their toils in this world are over. They can finally rest in peace.”

After a moment of heavy silence, Marvel shares, “I’m being shipped out tomorrow morning.”

I scowl, “Oh,” I bite the inside of my cheek, wondering how he’d manage to evade the draft for this long? Marvel is my age, 19 going on 20… boys get sent to the front lines at 18. “I… I could write to you… if you wanted?” I offer shyly.

Isn’t that what young women are being told to do, in order to keep our boys’ morale from plummeting?

Marvel grins, showing slightly crooked teeth, “That would be swell, Kit!” He stares at me for a long moment, then sighs, “I should go back to my shopping, before they miss me at home. Lord knows when will I have the chance of doing something as mundane as picking up my mother’s weekly grocery allowance.”

These days it is not only uncommon seeing men doing grocery runs, but simply seeing young, able-body men around, period. All of our boys are either in Europe or the Pacific, fighting to keep the devastation of the World war from reaching our shores.

“Well, for what is worth, I hope you get to return home safely… you know, so you can do all the boring tasks your mother tells you to do. And when I say safe, I mean, I hope you don’t run anymore into spaced out girls, like me,” I smirk.

“Oh, Kit, if only you knew how much I’ve enjoyed our accidental skirmish. It’s like a gift from above, seeing you after all these years. Your smile and the color of your eyes will forever be branded in my mind, to give me a reason to fight. To have a dream,”

I’m momentarily floored by Marvel’s florid little speech. Nobody has ever said anything nearly as sweet and gallant as that to me, and for a moment, I forget all about my dead sister and father, the war, and my own sorrow.

I avert my eyes, bashfully, as he finishes picking up his vittles off the floor.

“That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me,” I lean over to pick up a can of milk, and put it on top of his pile.

“I only speak the truth,” he smiles brightly.

My mother chooses to interrupt at the exact moment I bat my lashes at him, “Katniss, there you are! I’ve been waiting for you by the counter.” She shakes her head.

Marvel wobbles on his feet, rearranging his load, and then greets my mother, warmly, “Mrs. Everdeen, how nice to see you again,”

My mother eyes him, unimpressed. “Good afternoon, young man,” she answers.

“Ma’am… pardon my forwardness, but, would it be too troublesome to ask Miss Katniss to accompany a soldier about to be shipped out, to supper in the town?”

My mother narrows her eyes, distrust dripping from her voice as she speaks, “I’m not so sure that’s a good idea. My daughter and I are in mourning, you see,”

“Oh, this won’t be an untoward celebration of any kind, ma’am. With the war raging on, we’re all in mourning. All I ask for is one last night of normalcy, a chance to reconnect with an old grade-school mate,” he smiles, hopefully, “For old times sake?”

I’m watching my mother’s face closely, with bated breath.

“Very well,” Mother sighs, “You may ask Katniss out to dinner. But have her home by 9 sharp!”

I don’t hesitate to step up and give him directions to my apartment building in District 12.

I spend the rest of my day giddy and nervous, pressing my best Sunday suit, the gray one with the matching jacket, and polishing my only pair of leather shoes. There isn’t much I can do about my hair… the thing can’t be fashioned into the favored waves, not even putting it in curlers overnight, so I let it be.

I briefly wonder if this was all Prim’s doing? Meeting Marvel and mother’s somewhat easy aquiciscent. Prim hated seeing me sad, and constantly talked about how she’d love to help me get ready for dates with a beau. She couldn’t wait to be of courting age and date a strapping, young man herself… but of course, that would never happen for her, but she would probably still want to see me have those things.

Maybe Marvel is right, and our serendipitous encounter is a gift from above, to heal our wounds… at least for the night.

————————-

Marvel arrives at my house in his father’s car at 5:45. Riding is now such a luxury, with gasoline being rationed and all. He takes me to a quaint little dinner in the middle of town. We share malts, a greasy burger, and a small portion of fries and onion rings.

We talk about baseball:

“You’d look good in a baseball uniform, Kit! Can you still run as fast as you did in school?”

I laugh. “I’m not much for sports,” I demure, “but I’ve heard playing in one of the new teams pays alright. Anyway, I’m gonna be starting my second year of college soon. I put my studies on hold while Prim was at her worst, but now that it’s only just me and mother… I’m anxious to go back to study.”

“Wow, beautiful and smart!”

We talk about cars:

“I loved driving… but Mother sold our car when my sister took a turn for the worse. She didn’t want to at first, saying that Father saved up to buy it, and it held sentimental value to her, but I had to push to sell it. We needed the money and gas was a nightmare to come by, anyway,”

“The only reason we still have ours,” says Marvel, “is because Pa is too stubborn to let go of the things that still made him feel wealthy.” He scowls, “He’s trying to get into the ice business now, since it’s pretty much the only thing one where the raw material is plenty and relatively cheap, and there’s guarantee that people will buy the product… everyone still needs ice for their ice boxes, right?”

No one can afford luxuries anymore with every penny going out to support our boys in the battlefields.

We talk about many other subjects: his sister’s wedding; my father’s unit getting pinned and killed by Germans… We didn’t get a body to bury, but I got a medal on his behalf as his eldest child.

Marvel lets me sniffle against his chest, and then kisses my lips slowly.

I’ve never been kissed on the lips, and I feel my face heat up.

“Would you… like to take a drive with me, Kit?”

We drive all the way to the city limit. It’s exhilarating to be in a car again, and sitting at the overlook, at twilight, alone with a handsome boy, feels positively forbidden!

I’ve never done anything remotely injudicious all my life, and this whole moment feels… magical… exciting!

Tentatively, I initiated our next kiss, but he takes over in a rush of caresses and flitting touches.

“Beautiful, graceful, Kit. You have no match!”

“Marvel…” I kiss him again, not knowing how to answer his sentiments with words.

His hands are restless, groping my shoulders and elbows. “I wished he had more time! I would’ve loved to marry you before departing. I would’ve show you so much passion and love!”

“You still can show me, Marvel… you absolutely can!”

It’s all the permission he needs to dive into a frenzy. He doesn’t stop until the deed is done, and we’re a sweaty, tangled mess of limbs in the back seat of the car, only partially clothed.

A deep feeling of lethargy pours over me. My muscles are sore and heavy, and wished I could fall asleep in here.

“I intend on coming back to marry you, Katniss,” Marvel says, stretching his lanky, long legs to zip up his pants.

I sit up and start finger-combing my ruined hair, hoping my mother won’t notice the strands are extra frizzy. “Um… I guess we should after this,” I say shyly, gesturing between us.

“You could still go to college while I’m away,” he offers with magnanimity.

“You… wouldn’t mind that?” I ask incredulous, college women are so rare, unless they’re trying to become nurses or teachers. Most girls start courting right after high school and get married in the span of one to two years, and their husbands don’t normally encourage an education beyond what their wives came into the marriage with; so to hear Marvel say that wouldn’t mi d me stay in college is just about the greatest thing possible!

“My darling, Kit, I don’t want you to be one of those girls pining and wasting away for her beau. I’ll be busy at war, it’ll be unfair to keep you from occupying your own time while you wait fir my return. Go to college, my clever girl!”

I smile indulgently at him, leaning closer to slip his necktie around the collar of his shirt, “You are truly a generous, loving man,” I say.

Marvel beams, circling my waist with his arms pulling me against his body. “It’s all inspired by you, sugar plum!”

I giggle, kissing his cheek, “I’ll write to you every day!” I promise.

“That’s nice… but just so you know, I might not be able to write back right away. It’ll be a while before I get settled enough to write. But you’ll be in my thoughts every minute of every day, and that’s the honest truth! I’m serious about marrying you when I return, Kit,” he kisses me again. And then, he looks at his watch, sighing. “It’s 8:32. We should get on going, gotta keep in my future mother-in-law’s good graces!”

We share a carefree laugh, and finish tidying ourselves up to drive back to my house.

He walks me to the door, takes me in his arms, and kisses me passionately before promising he’d be back to officially ask for my hand in marriage, and for my part, I swear I’ll write to him every day until he returns home safe and sound.

But neither of us keeps our promises in the end, although I tried.

————————-

Three weeks go by and I keep my word of writing daily letters. I receive no word in return from Marvel, but think nothing of it… Europe is far and traveling by sea is tedious and time consuming; Marvel will get in touch once he’s settled down.

Another week goes by, still without news from my would-be fiancé. I still don’t worry. I’ve been busy with university, and the few other girls attending school with me keep me busy, but my heavier workload is starting to get to me.

I’m usually so tired and moody after school that socializing with my classmates becomes a chore. I barely eat supper before I’m passing out in bed, and my letters to Marvel start to get shorter and simpler with every passing day.

I skip writing one afternoon altogether, and take a long nap. Buttercup— Prim’s ugly cat— perches on my bed like a sentinel to watch me sleep. I believe he’s worried about me… stupid, clingy cat thinks I’m sick.

But the feline’s intuition proves right, because just two days later, I shoot out of bed and run into the washroom to spill every last ounce of last night supper into the toilet. I must’ve caught a bug or something!

I feel queasy and lightheaded every morning after. My appetite wanes and it seems my delicate stomach can only tolerate pears, and broth.

I visit the post office to place out my letters to Marvel almost everyday; Every time I come, the nice old mailman comments on how sweet it is to see all the young-uns holding romance strong. Marvel has yet to respond to one of my letters, so I just smile tightly and demure.

I’ve been thinking though; the longer I go without news of my supposed future husband, and despite the whirlwind night of romance with him, I start questioning my actions, my promises. I never wanted to marry before, and suddenly I was okay getting a hasty, unofficial engagement with a virtual stranger, I barely remember from grade school… maybe it’s better if Marvel never writes.

My plans on earning a college degree and finding a well paying job will go unencumbered— I’m aware women in prominent working professions are as rare as snow in July, but women’s presence in the working forces keep growing as industries need laborers to keep up producing while the men fight in the war. Educated women are almost becoming less rare.

At the two month mark since I last saw Marvel, I become weepier than usual… is to be expected in my opinion; Prim’s been gone for a little over two months and she was the only person I knew I loved. But now I’m worrying about my health on top of everything.

One morning, while I’m kneeling on the cold, hard floor in front of the toilet, feeling miserable and tired, my mother calls my name from the open door.

“Katniss, I think it’s time to get a test.” She states evenly, and then enters the room to fetch a damp washcloth to wipe my face clean. “I hope I’m wrong, but I’m afraid you may be with child,” she sighs.

I squirm. “No,” I gasp. “I— I can’t be with child. I just can’t!” But the thought has crossed my mind a few times already. “It’s not supposed to be this way!”

“I know, child,” My mother pats my head, “there’s only one way to know. Get dressed for the day, I will call the most discreet physician I know, and have him pay us a visit.”

————————-

Doctor Aurelius— a physician my mother has helped deliver babies and treat maladies with— confirms the pregnancy with a grim face.

I sit at my kitchen table numb and despondent. My mother writes a check to the doctor for his services, while talking in no so hush tones in the other room. I listen to their whole conversation, as if submerged in water.

“I blame myself for this, doctor. I should have kept a closer eye on her,”

“Don’t blame yourself Ms. Everdeen, it’s that war business bringing out all sorts of evil into the world! It’s unfortunate the rise of these cases in our community. Young ladies— from good families!— engaging in acts ought to be saved for marriage. Youth do things without thinking, guided by fear. Our boys fear they may not return from that senseless, awful war, and settle down properly, and I don’t blame them one little bit.”

“The only solace I have right now, is that my poor husband is not here to see the shame that’s fallen over our family,”

“I understand the sentiment, ma’am. There’s no telling how Preacher Everdeen would’ve taken this blow. But I’m sure things will work out as soon as young Katniss hears from the father…”

I dissolve into silent tears then. My mother escorts the doctor to the door and then there’s silence.

My pinky finger curls into the soft fabric of the table cloth, and I try to ignore the urge to vomit boiling in my stomach. There’s one thought circling mi mind: my college days are over.

——————————-

“Ah! Miss Everdeen, I have something for you.” Says the mailman as soon as I reach the desk. He smiles, but rather sadly, like he’s about to give me bad news.

I’ve come to the post office with urgent letters every day for 6 days, and he’s never looked at me this way.

The old man digs around for a moment and almost reluctantly, passes a parcel tied up in twine. An envelope is attached to the top of the parcel, and with a sinking feeling, I realized it’s a stack of my own letters.

“It came in today, miss.” Says the man, voice laced with pity. “Sorry for your loss.” He says.

At first I don’t understand what he could possibly mean by that; he’s offered his sympathies fir my dead father and sister already; it makes absolutely no sense to repeat himself randomly after so long.

Then it hits me like a ton of bricks.

I gasp, and press the parcel to my chest. “Oh no! Marvel!” I whisper. I give the man a hasty wave, thanking him, and rush out of the post office like mad.

Tears run down my cheeks, while I dash home, imagining the worst. “Poor, Marvel!” Is all I can think.

“Katniss, what’s wrong?” My mother calls, alarmed, when I rush to my bedroom, sobbing. She follows me in, and watches me tear into the envelope at the top of the stack.

I frown in confusion when I’m met with handwritten, chicken-scratch scrawl, instead of a formal missive typed in official US military stationary.

My scowl deepens as my eyes rove over the flowery vocabulary, and then I screech, “What?!”

“Katniss, what’s going on?”

I ignore my mother when she approaches to read over my shoulder; I step around her, shaking the piece of paper in my hands and stand by the window, as if sunlight will make the words change their meaning.

I smooth the creases and folds on the page over, and read out loud, “Dearest Kit, sorry it took so long to write, it’s been a wild time since we arrived and finding time to correspond with everyone back home it’s been hard.

“At times, your letters have been the sole source of light and hope in the darkness of this conflict. Is for that reason, and with a heavy heart, that I must come clean to you now. I truly meant it when I swore to come back and make you my wife, but as the Good Book says, the Lord works in mysterious ways, and love has sprouted out the most unlikely place! Kit, I’ve fallen in love and married a lovely gal here in England…”

I stop reading. He goes on talking about the why and how, but I sincerely don’t care.

“That good for nothing, virtue dasher, future crushing… liar!” My mother bleats to the ceiling, raising her palms over her head, dramatically.

I’m angry too, of course. I feel used and disposed of like a dirty rag, but my mother’s reaction is borderline hilarious. Except, it isn’t.

I’m pregnant, unmarried, and soon— once my still flat stomach starts rounding— I’ll be socially ostracized for my condition. My only saving grace was the promise of marriage that bastard Marvel had given me. But that’s gone now.

“I knew that boy was bad news the second I laid eyes on him! He never even introduced himself to me, the little weasel! This is my fault. My fault! I should’ve never allowed you to run amok with the likes of him…”

“Mother, will you please?” I nearly growl, gesturing at the open bedroom door.

She stares at me uncomprehendingly for a moment, before pursing her lips in disapproval, and stalking out of the room muttering her aggravation under her breath.

I sink into my bed with Marvel’s stupid letter crumpling in my fist. A single, hot, angry tear rolls down my face, and for the first time since finding out of its existence, I hug my midsection and address my child, “I’m so sorry for dragging you into this mess. I know you didn’t ask for a mother like me, but I’m all you got now, little one. I promise we will be alright… I’ll try not to let you down.”

———————-

My mother has been unbearable for the last two days. She cries in her room worse than when Prim died, and when she sees me, she starts lamenting my poor choice, like I’m not even standing there… as if I don’t feel discouraged enough.

I keep myself busy with my education. I will need to earn this diploma now more than ever before, and I need to do as much as I can before the baby arrives and my studies get put on hold.

In the meantime, I scout the newspapers for possible work options to sustain me and my mother. Our savings keep diminishing and the small stipend my mother got from the Army since my father passed away is becoming more insufficient by the day.

There’s a knock on the front door, and I push out my chair unhappy by the interruption.

“Afternoon Miss Katniss! Would you let your mother know she’s got a telephone call down in the lobby?” Says the building’s doorkeeper.

“Of course, thank you. She’ll be right down!”

Telephones are yet another luxury we had to give up when moved to this small place after losing my father.

I go back to my job hunt, and my mother descends to the lobby, quickly.

She returns after only 10 minutes, almost running through the door, excitedly calling my name. Tears wet her face, but her smile is so blinding, even without knowing what sort of news she’s heard to cause her such joy, I stand from the table with nervous anticipation.

“Oh, Katniss! Katniss my dear daughter, you’re saved!” She exclaims, hugging me tightly.

I’m confused. I step away from her embrace, “What do you mean?”

“It’s the best thing possible ever, I tell you! The Lord has answered all of my prayers!”

“This is all so exciting and all, mother, but… could you please share this great news already?”

My mother cups my face in her hands, and beams at me, “You need to pack your things, darling! Your father’s good friend, Reverend Undersee, has found a husband, and you are to wed, in three days time!”

—————————

Reverend Undersee and his daughter, Madge, meet me and my mother at the rinky dink bus station, in the equally tiny town my mother has banished me to.

“Katniss! How long has it been?” Says Madge, hugging me enthusiastically.

I bite my tongue to keep the acidic retort of “not long enough!” to leave my mouth.

“Welcome to Panem,” says the reverend, soberly, shaking my mother’s hand in greeting.

“Thank you, revered. We appreciate your hospitality and your understanding,” my mother responds, then gives me a pointed look and a wordless command.

I nod and mutter, “Thank you, sir. Madge,”

I scowl at a crack in the pavement, not feeling an iota of gratefulness for this charade!

Any man agreeing to this questionable union has to either be desperate, or be hiding terrible, ulterior motives to go along with all of this. Nobody in their right mind would willingly marry a girl pregnant with another man’s baby, and be happy about it… unless that’s the reason!

I shudder at the thought.

But it is a very real possibility that my intended is a simpleton, who can’t find a wife otherwise… or worse! It could be a man very advanced in age, looking for a supple, young body to leech off. Gross!

My mother had been too excited about the news that a man offered to marry me (as if I asked for, or even wanted a husband!) to bother to ask his name.

Reverend Undersee coughs daintily, clears his throat, and starts, like he’s giving a lecture at the university. “It is our Christian duty to lend a helping hand to widows and orphans in their time of needs. Same way it’s our duty to keep the memory and honor of an old friend from being dragged into the mud.”

I wince at the harsh words, and let my face fall lower, if that’s even possible.

“Well, it’s a good thing that we are all recipients of the abundant grace of the Lord, which covers multitude of faults, and it’s never hard to reach,” a deep, velvety, masculine voice cuts into my embarrassment.

I lift my eyes from the ground, to find a man striding confidently in our direction. He smiles kindly at me, his eyes fixed on my own, like I’m the only person still standing in the station.

He finally cedes our staring contest, to take in the rest of the group.

A knot forms in the pit of my stomach, because I recognize him from years past when my family used to visit this town, and I’m afraid I know exactly why he’s here.

“Good afternoon, all. I apologize for my tardiness, I had a last second detail to take care of before leaving the house,” he nods in our general direction, taking his hat off; a riot of ashy blonde curls falls onto his forehead, before bending forward to shake my mother’s hand, “I’m Peeta Mellark, at your service, ma’am. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“Likewise, mister Mellark,” says my mother, her lips twitch tersely, “Widow Everdeen, and this here is my daughter Katniss… your bride.”

Peeta Mellark’s baby blue eyes slip back to mine, and the left side corner of lips curls into a shy, earnest smile. “Welcome to Panem, Katniss, I’ll sure do my best, so you’d like it here.”

#alliswell21 #prompt 71 #Springtime Edition 2021 #submission

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braiawrites · 3 years

Text

Lost & Found - Chapter 3

Summary: A messenger fills Jude and Madoc in on important news. Jude and the cat pay a visit to the palace. || Inspired by this prompt by @newblood-freya

Words: 3188

Rating: T

Warnings: Brief description of a murder in the first section.

Links:

Fic Masterlist

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER FOUR

Prompt by newblood-freya

Read it on AO3

Writing Masterlist

Send me an ask!

A/N: So I thought writing a multi-chapter would be much easier once I had a solid plot laid out but when I tell you I was dragging words out by my teeth—yeah, I'm not super happy with this chapter but it's here and technically I had it finished in time, just not posted so uh. Good for me? Yeah I'll shut up now, here's chapter 3.

***

Dead. One of the princes was dead.

Jude stood stock still for a long moment, the shock on her face palpable as the words echoed in her mind.

Prince Dain was dead. Did that mean Cardan was, too?

Finally, she swallowed and took a shaky breath. “Prince Dain is dead?"

“Did you not know?” Madoc’s voice was heavy, his eyes sharp.

“No,” Jude gasped. “No, I–no. I thought this was about Cardan. I thought—I don’t know what, exactly, but not this.”

Madoc ran a large hand over his jaw, and then—

“Sit.” He gestured to one of the chairs set along the wall. “You might as well stay to hear the rest.”

She nodded numbly, hesitating before turning to the chair. The cat was standing next to her, black fur fluffed up and small body trembling, his eyes fixed on her foster father. He seemed as horrified as she felt.

“Your guest can stay as well,” Madoc said, tilting his head curiously at the cat. “We will talk about keeping pets later.”

With a nod, she scooped him up as she moved to sit down, tucking the trembling form into herself. She wanted to murmur comforts into his soft black fluff—as much for him as for herself, she suspected—but with Madoc and the messenger looking on, she settled for soothingly stroking the length of his back.

Madoc turned his attention to the messenger boy. “Report,” he instructed, like the boy were one of his soldiers.

He certainly reacted like one, his spine straightening and his chin lifting as he snapped his liquid gaze up to Madoc’s.

Jude didn’t blame him. The old redcap could have that effect.

“Prince Dain never returned to his quarters yesterday,” the imp said. “He was found by a librarian this evening in the royal lineage section, propped against the shelf and—” the imp paused, looking slightly sick, “and with his throat slit.”

“Any other injuries?” Madoc’s voice was cool and steady, as though he were asking about the weather, not the murder of a prince.

“I didn’t—I don’t know, sir. I didn’t see the body.”

At the general’s displeased grunt, the boy rushed to add, “But—at the time of my departure, they were just going to fetch a royal physician. They’ll have the report by now, I’m sure.”

“Hmph,” Madoc responded. “I’ll just have to go and find out for myself. Dismissed.”

As the imp bowed and turned to leave, Jude found herself blurting, “Wait!” the word coming out before she had a chance to think better of it.

The imp halted, glancing first at Madoc, who shrugged, and then at her.

“What about Prince Cardan?” she asked. “Has there been any news of him?”

The cat on her lap stirred slightly, his paws kneading into her legs at the mention of the disfavoured prince’s name.

“Not to my knowledge,” the boy said, shaking his head, and Jude felt her heart drop.

She nodded her thanks as the messenger bowed again and left, not trusting herself to speak through the tightening of her throat or the worry washing through her. For all he’d done to her, for all that he was her worst enemy, she never would have wished him dead.

Madoc’s commanding rumble broke through her fear. “Go and have the stablehands prepare me a mount,” he said. His eyes glared into hers as he repeated, “One mount.”

“I’m not—” Jude started, her fists clenching, but she swallowed her protest. There was no point in saying anything—he’d already made it clear that he wouldn’t allow her to come.

“Fine,” she said instead, and gathered her cat up as she left.

~ ~ ~

Jude did not go to the stables, but instead marched straight to her room, the heels of her boots clicking on the wooden floors. She caught a servant along the way to demand a mount be made ready for Madoc, and then set about preparing for her own trip to the palace.

As she strapped her sword belt to her waist and hid daggers under her sleeves, she kept glancing sidelong at the little cat pacing her floor. His tail lashed viciously with each step, his eyes bright. He must sense her own agitation.

“I’m sorry,” she told him. “I’m just worried. But I’m not staying home until Madoc brings word. For all I know, he’ll leave out all of the most important details to keep me from getting involved.” She scowled. “I’m not a child anymore. And I’m going to find out what happened to Cardan.”

The cat meowed and when she glanced over he met her eyes full on with his own amber bright glare. She could have sworn he’d sounded annoyed as she glared back at him, trying not to let her unnerve show. It wasn’t natural how human he seemed sometimes.

With a deep, steadying breath, she strapped the last sheath to her thigh and double checked the blade before sliding it into place.

She glanced at her cat again. “Are you coming?”

He mewed and clambered up her clothes, his claws pricking her skin.

“I swear you do that on purpose,” she grumbled as she checked out her window.

In the distance, Madoc was galloping astride a dark horse, almost at the edge of the Milkwood. By the time she had a mount saddled, he would be too far ahead to notice her.

With the cat slunk over her shoulders like a warm scarf, she made her way down to the stables and chose a light-footed creature reminiscent of a reindeer with glassy eyes and long fangs on either side of its mouth.

She made good time through the woods, her mount swift and smooth as it dodged trees and leapt fallen logs. The cat perched on the saddle before her, little face upturned in the wind, eyes slitted in pleasure, and Jude would have joined him had there not been a knot in her stomach at the possibility of Cardan being dead.

When the palace of Elfhame came into view, she pulled her mount to a stop and left it to graze out of view. Though it would have been quicker, coming careening up to the castle on the back of a fanged reindeer would be far from inconspicuous.

She continued on foot, the cat riding on her shoulders once again until they neared the base of the hill where the entrance was hidden by humming magic.

Two guards stood watch today, a precaution to keep unwanted visitors out after the news of Prince Dain’s murder. She had planned to enter quietly, but that may be impossible now.

As Jude drew closer, the guards moved in unison, drawing their weapons.

“What business do you have at the palace?" the taller of the two asked.

Jude lifted her chin and squared her shoulders. “I’m here with General Madoc,” she declared, to which the shorter guard snickered.

“Sure you are, mortal.”

The taller one shook her head. “The general specifically stated that he came alone.”

Jude fought the urge to clench her fists as the guards remained unmoving. “I need to see him,” she tried, “it’s important.”

“There’s nothing we can do about that,” the short guard drawled. “No one’s allowed in or out without explicit orders.”

The taller one shrugged apologetically. “Sorry. We can take a message, if you like.”

Jude shook her head, already turning away with a mumbled excuse, when her cat leapt off her shoulder and disappeared into the hill.

“Hey!” she called after him, moving to follow, but the guards stepped in front of her.

“You can’t go in.”

“But my cat—”

“You live in the general’s household?” the taller guard asked.

“Yes.”

“We’ll make sure the cat gets sent back with him if we see it again.”

She ground her teeth but nodded. “Fine. Guess I’m leaving then.”

“Guess you are,” the shorter guard challenged.

She fought the urge to say something smart back, or draw her sword on him, and instead walked around the hill.

“Where are you going now?” one of the guards called.

Nosy, she thought, but yelled back, “Visiting a friend,” and rounded the base of the hill until she was out of their view.

There had to be another way in, and so long as there was one, she would find it. She paced a half circle around the side of the hill opposite the guards, searching for another illusioned entrance or tunnel, a servants’ door—nothing.

Jude was just about to give up when she heard a triumphant, “Mrrrow!” from somewhere above. It was her cat, his little black head poking out an open window halfway up the hill.

“You genius little kitty!” she praised him, jogging up the sloping earth and climbing through the round window. As she eased the wood-bordered glass pane shut again, she whispered, “I didn’t even know these opened.”

The cat purred, looking decidedly smug, and Jude marvelled again at his strangeness.

“You don’t happen to know the way to the dungeons too, do you?” she asked, half jokingly.

He chirped and wound around her leg before trotting out of the room.

~ ~ ~

Jude entered the dungeons on quiet feet, trailing after the little black cat. The moment his paws touched the cold stone he yelped and leapt back onto her shoulders, his claws digging in.

“Spoiled rotten,” she accused him. “You have twice as many legs as me, you know. If anything you should be the one doing the carrying.”

She could have sworn he stuck his tongue out at her in response, or maybe it was just a coincidence, so she blew in his face.

The dungeon was mostly empty, with the few cells that were filled being deeper down. She supposed crimes weren’t oft committed in a land were a forceful promise was binding. Or, Jude thought as her eyes caught on an executioner’s sword mounted on the wall, maybe there was a darker reason.

She tried not to shiver in the damp air as she stalked past rows of cells, her eyes scanning the shadows for a pixie girl in a gown fit for a revel.

When at last she stopped before a small figure in a dirty gown, the cat sprung from her shoulders to stand, hissing and hackles raised, before the bars.

Behind the bars, the pixie sat up from where she was lounging on her straw palette, a laugh spilling from her lips, bitter and grating to Jude’s ears.

“Well, hello again,” the prisoner smirked, ruby red eyes flashing in the low light. “It looks like you came back to find me. You miss me that much?”

Jude tried to hide the confusion swirling inside her as she picked up her yowling cat. “We’ve never met,” she stated, to which the pixie laughed again.

“Not everything’s about you, love.” Her eyes locked on the cat as she jerked her chin at it. “Cat bring you here?”

Jude frowned. “Leave him out of it.”

“Alright, if you insist,” she shrugged. “So what do you want? Because as much as I’d like to think you came just to visit, I find it hard to believe you would appreciate my company so much—especially since we’ve never met.”

Jude shifted. She hadn’t thought about what she was going to actually say once she got here—ask nicely for the return of the prince? Grab the prisoner through the bars and shake her? Instead, Jude steeled herself and dove straight in, barrelling through both tact and diplomacy in one fell swoop.

“I have questions.”

“And what makes you think I have answers?”

“I already know you’re connected to Cardan’s disappearance,” she said, stepping closer, “and you’re going to tell me where he is.”

“Oh?” Red brows lifted over honey gold skin as the prisoner regarded Jude with some interest. “Am I now?”

“Yes, you are.” Jude ground the words out through gritted teeth, resisting the urge to lay her hand on her sword hilt as the pixie seemingly considered her options. Finally, she leaned back on her straw palette like it was the most comfortable bed in the world.

“No.” Her tone was flat, void of emotion, but there was a flicker of something—anger? Regret?—behind her eyes.

“I’m not asking,” Jude said, meeting the pixie’s glare.

“Oh, but I think you are. What else are you going to do? Threaten me? I’m already behind bars, darling, and you snuck in here. As soon as I called for a guard, you’d have to run, or risk being caught.”

Jude thought about bluffing or lying her way out of the trap, but curiosity got the better of her.

“How did you know I snuck in?”

“I didn’t, for sure, until just now,” the pixie responded, and Jude cursed herself for her stupidity. “I’d guessed it, because you have no uniform and no keys, and because no one ever enters from that direction.” She gestured down the hall where Jude had come from minutes prior. “And because the castle already came to see me today.”

At Jude’s frown, the girl elaborated with a roll of her eyes.

“They come down here every single day to ask me if I’m ready to tell them what I did with our dearest Prince Cardan, and every single day I tell them no, I’m not ready, I’m still literally unable to talk about anything I’ve done EVEN IF I WANTED TO, because I’m under a damn OATH!”

She threw her hands up in frustration before covering her face with her arms, huffing a sigh before continuing. “And then they walk away and tell me well then, no food until you’re ready to talk, and I always scream my worst insults at them as they leave, which I have to admit makes me feel just a teeny bit better.”

She sat up and met Jude’s eyes with a shrug. “I mean, it’s not nice of me, but I think I deserve it after all this.” She gestured to the mildew damp walls and bounced a bit on the creaky bed.

A pang of sympathy wormed its way into Jude’s heart, but she shut it out.

“How are you not dead?” she asked. “You have to have said something or you’d have starved by now.”

The girl laughed again. “Oh, but that’s the beauty of it! See, this cell is enchanted specially by High King Eldred himself.” Her eyes flashed and her smile faltered, so momentarily Jude could almost have been convinced it didn’t happen. Almost.

“Once you step inside, you can feel as hungry or as thirsty as you like, but you’ll never die from it. It’s a special kind of torture,” the pixie grimaced.

Jude swallowed the pity rising in her throat and lifted her chin. “Well, you probably deserved it. You’re a murderer afterall.”

“I—” the girl began to protest, but she stopped before she could say anymore. A moment passed before she coughed.

“Like I said, I can’t tell you anything about what I’ve done, but I can tell you that if I had been given a choice, I wouldn’t have gone after Cardan.”

“And Dain?”

“Dain?” the pixie echoed. “What about him?”

“They found him murdered this evening. Did you go after him?”

“What?” If the look of utter shock on the pixie’s face hadn’t convinced Jude, her next words did: “I didn’t kill Dain. You know I can’t lie, so you believe me, right? You know I’m telling the truth.”

Slowly, Jude nodded. “I believe you.”

“Listen: I can’t tell you what I did to Cardan, or why, or who I work for, but I can tell you this,” the pixie said, moving to stand by the bars.

“Desires sometimes take unexpected forms, but chasing them does no good when they’re already within your grasp. Cardan is closer than you think, but there is a power that will always hunger, and if you don’t stop it soon, it’ll devour not only your prince, but the rest of Faerie as well.”

Silence fell over the jail like a blanket, disturbed only by the drip, drip, drip of water.

Finally, the prisoner raised red brows. “So?”

“Thank you so much, that was so helpful and I now know everything,” Jude declared flatly.

The pixie girl sighed and propped her fists on the soiled waist of her gown. “You can be sarcastic all you want, babe, but I swear, that was as much as I can tell you—you know, binding oath and all? I mean, have you not been listening this entire conversation?”

The cat on her shoulder mewed and Jude glared at him sidelong.

“Whose side are you on?” she huffed, to which he meowed again and lashed his tail.

“Alright, fine.” Jude pressed her lips into a thin line as she turned back to face the girl in the cell. “I’ll figure it out myself.”

With the cat on her shoulder, Jude stalked out of the palace the same way she’d come in.

~ ~ ~

Cardan sat on the windowsill of Jude’s room, watching as the sun began to creep above the horizon, painting the sky in the golden light of dawn. Behind him, Jude was deep in slumber, snoring softly into her pillow, but with everything that had happened today, he couldn’t sleep.

Dain was gone and the palace was in shambles—he’d seen as much when he’d slipped inside. Guards had been everywhere, servants carrying cleaning supplies milled about, and curious courtiers had drifted through the halls, trying to catch a glimpse of what had happened.

When he’d passed by the library, Cardan had paused, resisting the urge to enter. When he breathed in, he’d nearly vomited.

Scents were much stronger to his cat nose, and through the must of old books and scrolls, beneath the scent of centuries of dust, he had smelled the cooling blood of his brother as it seeped into the carpets. It had taken all his willpower not to collapse in his sorrow.

The blankets rustled from inside the room and Jude’s groggy voice reached his ears.

“Kitty? What’re you doin’?”

He glanced at her over his shoulder and gave her a soft mrrm of amusement. Her hair was escaping its braid and dried drool had left a trail down her cheek.

“Come here, kitty,” she crooned, patting the blankets, and Cardan complied, slinking across the room to curl up in the curve of her arm.

Jude’s fingers played in the fluff around his neck and he couldn’t help but purr into the silence. He’d always been disgusted by how much he craved her touch, but he’d discovered of late that her fingers scratching his jaw or playing with his fur was one of his favourite things. He blamed Pellia’s cat curse.

They stayed that way for a long while, Jude stroking his fluff and his purrs warming the ever-lightening room.

When he twisted his face up to look at her, she brushed a kiss to his nose before settling into her pillows and pulling him closer. If cats could blush, he would have been bright pink.

“Sleep tight, kitty,” Jude whispered. “You’re safe here.”

And Cardan knew she was right.

***

A/N: Hello, loves! Thanks for reading and I hope you liked it!! I'm sorry this was a bit late, as I said earlier I struggled with this chapter so much. Thank you all so much for your support though, reading your lovely comments was a big motivation to get this chapter written, and I can say with absolute certainty that I would have given up long ago if it weren't for your kind feedback. I'm sending lots of love to all of you!

(PS: Please let me know if you’d like to be added to or removed from my tag list!)

Tagging: @stardustsroses @nahthanks @jurdanhell @my-one-true-l @thefolkofthefic @greenbriarxrose @bookavert @queen-of-demons-and-hell @theviolettulip @lysandra-ghost-leopard @playlistmusings @localgoof @garnet-babe @iamaprincessallgirlsare

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lightspeed-lightspeed-lightspeed · 3 years

Text

How did it happen?

(Bucky barnes x Female reader)

A/n: (Tw: cat. If you don't like cats gtfo of here) Although it is narrated in third person, the narration gravitates more around Bucky's pov (sorta). This is gonna be quite lousy so have fun, I guess.. If you can.

"How did this happen?" he whisper-sighed. "How? When?" He asked himself as he was staring into the distance, absent-mindedly stroking the white ball of fur curled up on his lap. Alpine let out a soft meow as if answering his soliloquies.

But for real though, how did he fall for you? The last he checked, you both were calling each other names out of contempt. Y/n y/l/n was simply insufferable, he always thought. Where did your acts of annoyance start blooming into everything he now yearns for?

As much as he would like to hide behind the idea that these sudden, irrational feelings hold no reason and meaning- how could he? How could he hide from what he knows? from what he realized? He could lie to himself all he wants- Hell, he had been lying to himself all this time, ignoring the wisps of light that marked the warnings through the pavements of this path he was sauntering down. He was walking into love and he refused to know it.

He wondered how different things would be now if he hadn't screwed up in your last mission and got you demoted to the archive library duty. Of course, jeopardizing a high stakes mission by starting a quarrel during field action is a grave mistake, but still Fury was being a little too extreme by suspending Y/n off the field for a month. Bucky didn't really believe that any of it was his fault, according to him it was you who were being your impossible self on the field that day. But he did feel sort of bad for you now. Maybe what Bucky shouldn't have done, was to try and make it up to you by spending time with you in that desolate library. Truth be told, it was partly an excuse for wanting to be around you.

There he was again, his thoughts lingering around you. Recounting the events of day before yesterday.

( The day before yesterday )

"Did you find it?," Bucky's voice echoed through the aisles as he walked towards the base of the ladder you were perched on looking for an old file Bucky needed for his mission. "Not just yet," you mused.

The archives library was completely empty except for the two of you. The sound of his boots against the spotless vinyl flooring filled the room as he was pacing back and forth. Clack-tap, Clack-tap, Clack-tap, Clack-tap. He found the rhythm weirdly gratifying. And he could see you didn't. If something could get you to lose your cool, what's not to love?

"Quit pacing," you sighed, slightly annoyed. He started to stomp on even louder. Clack-tap, Clack-TAP, CLACK-TAP,CLACK-TAP,CLACK-TAP. Your breathing quivered with exasperation, as your shoulders hunched and fell in gliding motions. Just as gratifying, he thought looking at it.

"Quit pacing, Goddamnit!" You practically growled.

"No." He said, scrunching up a smile fighting it's way on his face. "What are you? obsessed? Mind your business," he shot smugly.

"You're making it really hard for me to, you moron," You muttered as he broke out into a grin. Annoying you practically counted as top-tier entertainment for him.

"C'mon man, do something," You cried.

"Do what?"

"Search for those godforsaken files, maybe. I honestly-"

"I am searching,"

"No, you're not." You huffed.

"I am, and I'm beginning to think the files are not in he-"

"Shhh" you cut him off. He shot you a questioning look.

"Don't you hear it?" you whisper-hissed.

"Hear what?" he asked as he reached for his weapons, falling into a defensive posture.

"There's somebody else in he-" before you could complete the sentence, you were screaming and everything was collapsing as you fell off the ladder yanking the racks down along with you, a daunting cacophony of heavy crashes and clamours deafening as you and Bucky were whipped by gravity, with absolutely no idea what is happening for a solid couple of moments.

"What the fuck just happened?" Bucky asked as he looked around, his pale blue eyes wide and gleaming with absolute confusion. The racks were all fallen, everything loosely covered with the papers lying around. The room had become a little darker. "I- um.." You started, "I... It was a cat.." you said frantically as you were still trying to shake yourself from the shock. "It was a what?" he asked incredulously. "A cat! I mean, It sort of jumped at my face, and I.. It sneaked up behind the rack... and I jumped and everything fell.. I guess..." You cringed at yourself. Bucky winced and looked around again and that's when he realized. You both were cornered against the inner edge of the wall. The racks had fallen in front of you into perfect forts, blocking your way out. He was practically stuffed against you into a crooked modicum of space. Your back was pressed against his chest, his leg pitted against yours. There wasn't a lot he could've done about that. He was trapped in there with you. But most importantly, he had never been this close to you.

His heart did parkours and cartwheels. He could only hope you don't feel how hard it was beating. Where were all these butterflies coming from? His breath hitched, he wasn't even sure if he was breathing anymore, although it was the last concern on his dumb-foundedly racing mind. He could feel the softness of your hair against his neck, he'd be lying if he said that wasn't the softest, gentlest thing he has felt in about the past seven decades. It smelled like an orchard of flowers. He liked flowers. Although he couldn't tell what flower it smelled like, he knew it would've been his favourite flower. It calmed him down, that was, of course until his eyes looked down. He could see the stretch of your dangerously gorgeous collar bones sparkling in your sweat above your dress's boat-like neckline. His atheism breaking at the sight of that sculpted divinity, he couldn't help but pray, "God give me all the strength you can to keep me from kissing that work of art." The quantum leaps between the intervals of his heartbeats weren't helping either. Oh, at this moment, what he wouldn't give up to be the brittle golden necklace cascading from the graceful steeps and lows of your neck to the flesh over your heart. He held back not of strength, but because of fear.

As he was trying to fathom where all these thoughts were coming from, he was interrupted by you glazing your body against his body as you were striving to reach for a way out of the current situation. The way you groaned softly as you tried to reach for the other side of the rack-fort did things to him that he never would have expected. He was practically petrified. You gave up after a few moments, your head falling back against his ribs due to the impact. "Oof," he said his breath tickling your neck, cooling the sweat enough to send chills down your spine. "I'm sorry," you quivered in embarrassment. "So... there's no way out unless someone helps us out from the outside," you reported. He sighed in reply. He was way too nervous right now to speak in words.

"Are you claustrophobic or something?" you asked.

"What?"

"No, your heart has been racing real loud for quite some time now."

"I.. um.. small spaces do that to me,"

"Huh" you huffed.

You felt the coolness of his metal arm against the heated skin below the back of your neck, it was very soothing. He had laid the forearm carefully at a distance from you, and you couldn't help but wish he would wrap it around you. You could feel the vibrations of his vocal cord against your ear lobe as he talked. You were glad he couldn't see your face flushing at that.

Eventually he was able to relax, his heart slowing down. Although the situation was still quite awkward, he was not sure if he was complaining. That's when he heard footsteps. Someone was coming to their rescue. The footsteps grew louder, and there he was.

"Noah!" You exclaimed as he stood in front of you on the other side of the rack-fort. "Y/n! What's.. going on?" Noah asked as he looked at the mess. "Ah, we're trapped. Can you help us out of here?"

~~~

"Thank you," you smiled as he got them out of there with the help of the floor service. "How did you find us here?"

"We had a date, remember? You didn't show up so I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

"Oh my god, yes we did. All this happened and It totally slipped my mind. Thank god, we did though," you chuckled, looking around, "Hey Barnes, This is Noah, he works in the communications department,"

"Hey, man" Noah greeted. Bucky gave him a half-nod and a mean look.

"You know, it's not exactly late. If you are up to it, we could still go grab some dinner," Noah said, giving you this innocent look that Bucky, for some reason, found revolting.

"Yeah? of course," You were all smiles.

Since when does y/n smile like that? What did she see in this guy? He doesn't even know the guy, so why does he hate him so much? He felt displeased with himself for staring at you and Noah, like, why did he even care now? Bucky had so many questions. The answer was walking out of the hall with somebody else, and there was nothing he could do about it.

He was standing there in the once again empty library, lost in the middle of the bustling race track of his thoughts. That was when he felt something tugging at his legs, pulling him out of the maze he was being consumed by. He looked down at his little rescuer with fur as white as snow. "Hello there," He called, gentleness taking over his voice as he squatted down to pet the little cat that was rubbing its ears on his shoe straps. "Where did you come from, doll?" he giggled, scratching it's chin.

~ ( Today ) ~

"You were a no-show at the debriefing. Where were you yesterday?" You asked as you plopped down on the couch in the kitchen Island, your arm resting on the back pillow, turning your head back and looking at Bucky toying with the cutlery on the counter. "I.. was in my room," he said pushing back a stray lock of hair. "Coffee?" "Yeah," you muttered.

As you turned your head you saw a little white cat hopping onto your lap.

"I found her in the library, you know, the other day.. after you left. Guess I'm her owner now, kind of," he said as he handed you the coffee.

"Aww, he made a friend!" You giggled as you scratched the back of the cat's ears. "Hello! Do you like that, you little troublemaker?" you chuckled as the cat warmed up to you with it's eyes closed.

Bucky was blushing like an idiot. You were not gonna lie, that shade of red made him look a little too cute.

"Has she got a name?"

"Yeah well, I named her Alpine. It's a good name, right?"

"Alpine!" you grinned, "It's a lovely name."

"What?" He asked, as you gave him a surprised look after sipping your coffee.

"The coffee is actually good," You said.

"Why, you didn't think I could make good coffee?"

"No, in all these three years, you've brought me coffee like 4 times, 3 out of which you put salt in my coffee and the one time you messed up the sugar real bad. On purpose, I suppose," you accused.

"To be fair, you deserved it,"

"Ah, there it is," you said.

Bucky couldn't help but stare at you. Here he was, sitting on the couch beside you, getting high of sorts on how close he was to you. He had been craving for it ever since the archive library. He locked himself in his room all yesterday, convincing himself that what he felt towards you wasn't real, although it only made more sense despite his inability to believe it. And here you were now, recklessly playing with his heartstrings. The image of a rogue strand of your hair caressing your temple, and your eyes becoming a softer shade of (y/e/c) as the sunlight fell on them vaporized the levee he built around the feelings he never thought would see the light of day again.

As if breaking him out of his trance, you said, "Ah, I'd love to hang around with you guys, but I gotta go. I said I'll be meeting Noah in a couple minutes."

"Right," he could feel his heart dropping for a second.

"Alright then... bye!" You called, and walked out of the room, as he watched your hair swaying to your stride.

And here he was, on the couch, wondering about what just happened. Alpine half asleep on his lap as he unconsciously whispered, "How did this happen?"

~~~~

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s-and-n-writes · 3 years

Text

accidental reveals

summary: Ladybug and Chat Noir are celebrating the arrival of summer on a rooftop in France, high above the busy streets of Paris, when Chat Noir wonders why Marinette never showed up during Miracle Queen. After all, everyone who was an temporary Miraculous holder showed up at the time, right?

Ladybug points out the Adrien actually didn’t come as well. What a weird coincidence....

And it’s just that: a coincidence, but only until the duo starts connecting the dots. Just...not in the way that you’d imagine.

a/n: based off of this reddit post i found, and the first comment right under it (comment by DonDove) asdfghjkl omg... but anyway, yes this is a quick crack drabble for self-indulgence, yes you can ignore me lmao, also fair warning this gets worse as it goes but like i wrote it at 1 am so thats to be expected

quick links: | miraculous masterlist |

“Ladybug? Can I ask you something?

It’s a quiet night in Paris, and two of the city’s finest superheroes are spending their time on a rooftop. The akumas are dwindling, summer is here, and Hawkmoth seems to spend his time doing something other than terrorizing innocent citizens these days. All of these good things happening together can only mean one thing: a celebration.

So, they celebrate. They grab a spare picnic blanket from a store-owner (who was only so eager to give it them), get snacks galore from the Dupain-Cheng Bakery (they get the Official Superhero Discount TM , something Rena was bragging about only a couple nights ago), and finding a spare rooftop, they sit, and eat, and laugh, and joke, and just talk the night away.

Even if the conversation lulls eventually, the two simply enjoying each other’s company, the silence isn’t uncomfortable or weird. It’s warm and friendly, like Chat Noir is , Ladybug thinks.

At the moment, Ladybug feels happier than ever before.

“ Oui, Chaton,” she smiles.

“I’ve been thinking…” he says, pausing. His demeanor is different, more inquisitive, and Ladybug holds a breath as he talks.

Does he...know my identity?

“You? Thinking? Kitty, that’s never good,” Ladybug deflects, interrupting and laughing the thought off.

“ Meow -ch, milady you wound me,” Chat puns, going back to his usual self. Ladybug stifles a laugh with the back of her hand, choosing to roll her eyes instead.

“Anyways, I was thinking about what happened. Y’know, Miracle Queen,”

Ladybug swallows. “And..?”

“So, Chloe forced all the miraculous holders to reveal themselves, except us, because we’re miraculous and we jumped into the Seine, right?”

Ladybug nods, cringing at the horrible pun. “Where are you going with this, kitty?”

Chat Noir falls back onto the picnic blanket, his eyes staring up at the stars. “It’s nothing, just-Marinette wasn’t there. Multimouse, remember her?”

Ladybug feels her palms getting very sweaty.

She laughs nervously, and prays for him to make a lighthearted joke that would change the tone of the conversation. But she waits for a while, and he doesn’t, instead starting up at her for an answer.

Ladybug gulps.

She needs a distraction. And fast.

Searching the skyline, her eyes land on a billboard of Adrien Agreste: her classmate, friend, crush. It’s a promotional poster from the Adrien, the Fragrance line.

In Ladybug’s mind, the world turns black and white, just like in the middle of Lucky Charm. Adrien’s face glows red.

Aha! Adrien!

“Haha! Haha. You’re right, that’s so odd, how weird...but look who else didn’t show up! Adrien! I gave him the Snake miraculous before Viperion. Poor guy, went through a lot alone. He said he kept using Second Chance during. Desperada, over, and over, and over again, for months. Bet he saw us die too,”

Ladybug thinks, for a split second, that she sees Chat Noir freeze up and shudder, but she waves off the thought.

“Anyway, Adrien didn’t come either, haha! Weird, right?”

Chat nods. “I wonder why…”

They both pause, staring at each other for a few seconds.

Adrien didn’t come.

Hawk Moth didn’t get affected.

Ladybug’s eyes widen, her expression matching Chat’s bewildered one. Adrien’s mysterious disappearance and Hawk Moth’s unusual arrival can only mean one thing.

Ladybug pauses, looking at Chat Noir, who she thinks has made the connection.

“Adrien’s Hawkmoth!” Ladybug says, waiting for Chat’s reaction.

It never comes.

Instead, Chat Noir has a retort of his own.

“Marinette is Mayura!” Chat Noir gasps, looking at Ladybug for confirmation.

Chat is flabbergasted (Ladybug? Accusing him? To be Hawkmoth?), but his partner seems to be much calmer than he is.

The duo pauses again, and they stare at each other for a lot longer than just a couple minutes.

But then Ladybug breaks the silence.

“Well,” she sighs. “Just my luck. If Adrien Agreste is Hawkmoth, I guess I’m in love with my mortal enemy then,”

Chat’s jaw drops. He gasps, struggling for words.

“You-in love- Adrien?” he chokes.

And then he faints.

Needless to say, finding himself in Marinette’s room with two concerned kwamis poking at his face is not how he wants to start the morning.

(Or at least, at the moment. He finds out quickly that it’s exactly how he wants to start his morning.)

If Chat Noir.exe has stopped working...

Adrien.exe has burned and crashed.

a/n: hope you liked it! feedback is appreciated (as always) and thanks for reading!

#ml #mlb #miraculous ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #ladybug #chat noir #aspik #multimouse #miracle queen #snekmouse #ladynoir #adrienette #adrinette #ml fanfiction #ml fanfic #fanfic #our writing.txt

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etherealluminescence · 3 years

Text

The boys, GN!MC, and the cat

Based off my previous post, about MC and their very buff and not-so-catlike-cat. I’ve been reading fushigi neko and creepy cat so if that gives you a rough idea!

Scenario - WARNING LONG

MC is new to the demon world and they have a pet cat. MC introduces the cat to the boys and it suddenly goes on two legs and flexes it’s very buff arms? How do the boys react to this bizarre scene, and how are they with the cat in general?

Lucifer

When he sees the cat jump out of your bag, he first thinks oh, great, a pet to take care of, but then he thinks what the fuck.

Did your cat just get up on two legs, and grow muscles, and a six pack? And one second, did you just say you weren’t afraid because this was your protector?

He’s one of the first to recover from the initial shock. He thinks your cat is cursed or magical or something at first, but you keep denying that, saying this is just how cats are.

He has a poker face with the cat and tries to generally avoid it, until some demon who was picking on you got thrown into a wall by your cat. He has to deal with the aftermath, and your cat just looks at him with a poker face and it’s beady eyes and meows.

He is now seriously concerned what is wrong with your cat to be able to demolish a demon. He tries to bring up that this cat is far from normal again, but you keep insisting that your cat is average, and that most cats can do this.

You bring this cat to his office one afternoon and ask him to cat sit, since you’ll be going out for a bit, and everyone else is busy. He tries to say no, but your cat covers his mouth with a paw and you leave.

He’s staring at your cat for a long time, unable to focus on his work because your cat is organising his desk and pouring itself a cup of tea.

He actually becomes fine with your cat after it plays some classic music and quietly reads a favourite book of Lucifer’s in a corner. He forgets your cat is an actual cat for a bit.

But the more you leave your cat in the care of Lucifer, the more he’s just like alright, this cat isn’t so bad. He’s still more of a dog person.

Mammon

He’s just freaked out PERIOD. He will never let himself be alone with this cat.

He avoids it like the plague, won’t go near it. Wont let you leave him alone with it.

He just is so intimidated. Especially since the cat is working out?? Baking?? Reading?? Doing your homework? He does not approach.

Leviathan

This is just like I picked up a stray cat but they ended up being a super strong alien who vowed to protect me in exchange for saving them while they were suffering!!

Levi is actually pretty fine with it, you may think he freaks out or something, but he does like cats, and he has raised giant animals and weird ones himself.

He teaches your cat how to play video games, and has him as his main player two. He wants your cat to learn about TSL, and tells him the whole lore, your cat just sits there in Levi’s room nodding and occasionally meowing.

Your cat ending up sewing an idol outfit for themselves to wear when him and Levi watch idol videos together.

Levi is really happy to have someone to listen to him, and better yet, it’s not a physical person so he’s not as nervous, he probably spends more time with your cat than you do at this point.

Satan

KITT- oh. alright. Can he uh,, pet it?

He’s just really confused because you’re calling it a cat, it has the face of a cat, ears, whiskers, and a tail, but?? Its on two feet and majorly buff.

He still wants to pet it, he knows human cats aren’t all like that, and wants to know what is up. You insist that it’s normal, but he ends up getting you to tell him the life story of your cat.

You tell him while you’re in his room with your cat, when your cat goes unbuff and starts purring, feeling that you’re safe.

Satan immediately is like,,, can I pet,, I wanna,,, so cute,,, kitty. Aaaaaaaaaa, internal freak out. So it can be insanely fluffy and cute.

Satan gets along so well with your cat, they drink coffee together in the morning, your cat knocks on his door and asks (meows) to borrow a book from him, and sits on his lap as Satan pets him.

Asmodeus

Excuse me MC what the FUCK is that. Is he seeing what everyone else is seeing?

He is VERY wary of this abomination and refuses to be near it. It really saddens you because you want them to get along.

One night he’s freaking out because he has a pimple, so your cat comes to the rescue with an SOS beauty package.

You mention it’s the same routine your cat puts on you, with the cream and the products. Asmo freaked out at first, but calmed down a bit since he really wanted the pimple gone.

The next day it is completely clear and his skin is RADIANT. He nervously approached you to ask for the products but you tell him to talk to your cat, since you only do as he says, you don’t actually know the stuff.

He ends up asking your cat, begrudgingly, and turns out your cat can go unbuff, and was happy to help.

10/10 Asmo loves your cat now. He’s so squishy and fluffy, doesn’t shed fur, and even knows about beauty routines. Your cat is now his bff.

Beelzebub

It takes him a second but he just thinks human cats are like that.

After watching everyone freak out he realises human cats aren’t like that. But you’re insisting it’s completely normal.

He believes you and your cat, so he’s rather okay with it. He’s more of a dog person but your cat is really chill.

Your cat has dinner duty one night and allowed Beel to taste test the food, and even showed Beel his secret recipes.

Beel is instantly very fond of your cat, and then your cat joins him for work outs. He mentions working out later in front of you and your cat meows and you mention he wants to join in.

Your cat and Beel are now bench pressing a few hundred together every other day. Completely forgets that not all cats are like your’s.

Belphegor

The first time they met your cat came out of the window and punched him in the face.

Belphie tried to kill you and your cat found out, and was ready to kick his ass. You had to deescalate it because your cat broke out of Beel’s grip and was ready to punch Belphie again.

Belphie was annoyed when someone punched him and then saw your fucking cat. He has decided to shut the fuck up.

Belphie is intimidated. That thing is NOT normal, so why is everyone acting like it’s an everyday thing??

It takes awhile to calm your cat down. Belphie has to apologise to both your cat and you. Sincerely.

Your cat takes your hand and walks you away from Belphie. Belphie does not want to live with it but has no choice.

Is VERY scared when you suddenly leave your cat alone with him for a little bit. Your cat stays in incredibly buff form and sits across the room staring holes into Belphie while Belphie is trying to sleep.

He will never be comfortable near your cat, and your cat is constantly in buff form around him. He is NOT a fan of mr kitty.

Diavolo

Excuse me what. He stares for a second and laughs and says what a cool cat. He’s slightly concerned though, because he feels genuinely no magical energy from the cat,, so what is up with it?

He listens to you say you just found him on the side of the road and have been raising him since. That’s very nice of you, but are you not a little concerned?

To be fair, if he met a muscular cat like your’s on the side of the road, he too, would pet it or raise it.

Is pleasantly surprised when he watches your cat help students in RAD, holding open doors, carrying textbooks, and he even waters the flowers in the front of the school.

Very delighted when you leave your cat in Barb’s care for awhile, because he gets to watch your cat from up close, and even gets to eat some of the famous cookies it bakes.

He ends up really fond of your cat, inviting your cat to dinners and asking your cat opinions on minor things. You have a proud parent moment watching the two of them interact.

Barbatos

Your cat is incredibly buff and has a six pack,, right... The stoic butler has a poker face, but he has a brain freeze for a few seconds. He’s the quickest to come back to his senses.

He has never seen anything like this before, and thinks someone must have put a spell on this cat or something, but hears you say it’s normal.

He knows human cats can’t be like that, right? What do you mean you just found him on the side of the road and he just acted like this?? Shouldn’t you have some sense of concern?

He starts to notice that your cat is quite similar to him. Your cat cooks, bakes, and even takes care of you. Just like how he takes care of Diavolo. Apart of him hates that but another part of his respects that your cat cares for you.

When you go on a trip with the brothers you leave your cat in his care, saying you’ll be gone for a week, and that you’ll call him every night.

Well, he didn’t really have to take care of the cat. The cat kept out of his arms after the two arrived in the kitchen. Barbatos was finishing off his baking, and the cat was helping him clean the kitchen equipment.

The cat ended up helping him frost the cake, while wearing a small apron from his care package, and set it aside to cool off.

Barbatos ends up being really fine with the cat, since your cat is really well mannered and helpful. It’s a little freaky at first, but it’s no big deal.

Solomon

Ah yes, and incredibly buff cat. That seems.. abnormal. Interesting, especially since there’s no magical power coming from it.

He wants to figure out what’s wrong with it, so he invites you to purgatory hall under the guise of some humans enjoying themselves and eating cookies.

You arrived with an apron and your cat got his apron on. You said your cat wants to bake the cookies together, so you brought the ingredients rather than cookies themselves.

Since he’s such a great baker, he guesses questioning your cat can wait for later. Is actually really amused to see how great of a baker your cat is.

At the end of the day, he ends up taking cooking and baking lessons from your cat, and your cat is encouraging him to do his best at cooking.

He gets along super well with your cat at the end of it. Is delighted to spend time with Satan and you reading books wnd talking about cats with your cat.

Simeon

Haha cat go buff. Simeon 100% has accidental chaotic energy. He is taken aback but then is fine.

Finds your cat to be pretty cute, and is smiling from how your cat wants to protect you and how you cat sees you as a precious child to protect.

Is 100% delighted to have your cat come to purgatory hall one day with a basket of baked goods, and let’s him in.

He doesn’t understand cat talk so your cat writes down a letter saying he baked some cookies and came for a visit, just wanting to know more about them.

Simeon shares his celestial realm stories and Lucifer stories, and your cat becomes a great tea time friend of his, your cat sharing stories of you.

Luke

Is very freaked out and is nearly like Mammon until your cat stops being buff.

He is fine if your cat isn’t buff, but gets intimidated if he’s buff.

You get asked by Luke to bake some cookies with him at Purgatory Halls, so you bring your cat and he’s wearing a small apron.

Luke things it’s really cute and is awing until your cat gets up and starts baking as well. Don’t worry, your cat has gloves.

He’s watching your cat who uses expert techniques to do it quickly yet efficiently. Maybe your cat isn’t that bad.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me swd #obey me hc #obey me headcanon #buff cat

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foxy-exy · 4 years

Text

Cat Magnet

loosely based on that falling for ur fuckbuddy bc ur cat likes them reddit post

"My fuckbuddy is kind to my cat and my cat likes him. I’m starting to have feelings for him because of that”

Andrew Minyard might be in too deep.

Sir Fat Cat McCatterson was not named by Andrew, because Andrew did not care to name a cat. He did not, in fact, care to own a cat. But apparently, his ground floor apartment simply came with a cat — one that hung around his back door until he opened it to smoke, that slowly began migrating into the apartment until she was inside of it more than she was out, that yelled at him until she owned a food bowl, a water bowl, an absurdly expensive cat tree, and a box of at least ten toys that she liked to chew on and absolutely destroy with her back legs.

(She would then bring those thoroughly killed toys to lay at Andrew’s feet and, once more, she would yell until he gave her a nod and a pat.)

Sir was named by an over-enthusiastic Nicky on his first visit, and she had no other name. The lack of an actual, non-Nicky-bequeathed name wasn’t an issue until Andrew found himself entertaining more than simply his cousin or his twin.

Usually, the cat avoided everyone, hiding in the bedroom if Aaron was visiting, barely peering out from the kitchen for Nicky, vanishing like a ghost if Andrew ever brought a stranger home.

Other visitors were rare — occasionally, a less-than-annoying coworker, a person who worked out next to him at the gym and didn’t chatter too much. Almost never hookups. Andrew generally kept those away from his place.

But also, Andrew generally kept his hookups to a one time occurrence, or an occasional repeat at a single location. Neil Josten was an exception because hooking up with him for a bit once in Eden Twilight’s bathroom simply…hadn’t been enough. And seeing him in weird hours of the morning/night in the 24 hour grocery store, bringing him back to his car for an hour before they parted ways…hadn’t been enough. Running into him in the library and pulling him into the farthest corner of the dusty shelves to make out against encyclopedias for an indeterminate amount of time definitely hadn’t been anywhere near enough.

So Neil Josten, The Exception, was not slated to enter Andrew’s apartment, but enter it he did, after a night of increasingly heated remarks exchanged at a back table of Eden’s, after enough time staring at each other as they sipped their drinks, surrounded by too many people. After Andrew had finally leaned in to whisper, “Follow me.”

When Andrew went to retrieve his coat, it was with Neil’s too-warm, staticky presence at his back, electrifying Andrew’s step into the parking lot. Neil’s own quiet footsteps did not fade from behind him, like Andrew had hoped. And when Andrew unlocked the car and turned around to raise an eyebrow at him, Neil Josten merely raised an eyebrow back and smiled.

“Are you coming?”

“Hopefully,” Neil said, as he slid past Andrew towards the passenger side. As he had accepted being pulled back into a hard kiss for a little too long.

A short car ride later, Neil was being pulled into Andrew’s apartment in a similar manner, only, instead of moving with any kind of poise, Andrew stepped backward into his apartment, beginning to strip Neil’s jacket off and — promptly fell over Sir Fatcat McCatterson.

Sir howled like she was being killed and shot under the couch. And the traitor Neil Josten, standing in Andrew’s doorway, staring down at a sprawled-out Andrew, laughed.

“You’re a menace,” said Andrew, as Sir crept back out to sniff at his nose, and he wasn’t sure whether he meant her or his visitor. “She isn’t even my fucking cat.”

Neil looked around at the feathered catnip toys scattered around the living room and raised an eyebrow. “Cat sitting?”

“Uninvited occupant.” Andrew sat up and gently shoved away the white fluff ball, and curiously, impossibly, Neil went down on a knee to hold out a finger, and Sir ran to him like he was the one returning home.

“What’s your name?” Neil murmured in a soft voice that Andrew had never heard before, and abruptly, Andrew remembered that she did not in fact have a name he wanted to tell anyone, much less a…something. A fuckbuddy. An Exception.

But Sir was purring like a fucking motorboat, rubbing her face all over Neil’s hands, and Neil was smiling as she balanced herself on his knee to sniff his nose, too. And Andrew chewed back something budding in his chest at his cat being stupidly clingy to…whatever Neil was…and said, “Sir.”

“Sir?” Neil looked at him.

“’s her name,” Andrew muttered, then, quieter, “Sir Fat Cat McCatterson.”

Neil took the invitation Sir was giving him and buried his face into her back, but Andrew couldn’t miss the glimpse of lips pressed together over a grin, or the shaking of his shoulders.

“I didn’t name her,” Andrew said, and ignored just how similar his tone sounded to Aaron’s sullen one. “My cousin did. She doesn’t have another name.”

“It’s a great name,” Neil said a little too earnestly to Sir as he emerged from her fluff, scratching behind her ears and sinking his fingers into her ruff. She purred agreeably and licked his chin.

“Shall I leave you alone with the cat?” Andrew shoved to his feet and tossed his keys towards the entryway table, shucking his coat off onto the back of the couch.

Neil looked up, rising to his feet to toe off his shoes with a smirk. “She’s not what I came for.”

“Good,” Andrew said, and tugged on his wrist to lead him towards the bedroom.

***

Neil Josten was supposed to be An Exception, not A Regularity. Not A New Staple of Andrew’s life. He wasn’t supposed to be a number in Andrew’s phone to text, wasn’t supposed to be an ‘are you free’ away from showing up on Andrew’s doorstep. And he wasn’t supposed to be a welcome, familiar sight on Andrew’s couch — Sir curled in his lap, her eyes slits, her approval of his presence loud enough to deafen.

Andrew definitely wasn’t supposed to carefully shift his greedy cat away across the couch so that he could slot himself between Neil’s legs to try and kiss away whatever the fuck had him feeling so warm at seeing Neil there.

“Who made you Cat God,” he murmured against Neil’s lips when Sir growled her displeasure at being unseated from Neil’s lap.

“Guess your cat just loves me,” Neil mumbled into his mouth, gathering fabric at Andrew’s shoulder with one hand as he pressed closer. Only…Neil’s other arm crept around Andrew’s body, but his hand was mysteriously absent as Sir’s angry meows cut off.

Andrew broke away and turned to find Neil’s other hand occupied with stroking Sir’s head.

“You really only use me for my cat, don’t you?”

“If it helps, you’re a welcome bonus,” Neil grinned, stretching to try and capture Andrew’s lips again.

Andrew pressed a hand over his mouth instead. “Get your own pet. Sir is mine.”

Neil raised a challenging eyebrow. “Last I heard, she was an uninvited occupant.”

And you weren’t supposed to look so right in my apartment, Andrew didn’t say, just sat back on his heels to pull his cat onto Neil’s chest where he could try to recapture her attention. It worked, kind of. She was half distracted by Neil’s hair being in grooming distance, but she let Andrew scratch under her chin and gave him an appeased look.

“If I got a cat…would you come with me to pick it out?”

Andrew stopped scratching.

“And figure out a name,” Neil mused, smoothing back Sir’s whiskers. “After all, we can’t have you completely showing them up with your name, Sir, can we?”

“I didn’t name her,” Andrew said again, but he was buzzing.

Helping Neil choose a cat. So that was…acceptable to do. Naming it.

“What do you think, Andrew?”

And Neil was right there, peering up at him through thick fur, with a small smile.

“Yes,” Andrew said.

***

King Fluffkins did not last long in Neil’s apartment. He didn’t seem to like how empty it was — much like Neil, he much preferred taking up permanent occupancy in Andrew’s bed, next to Sir.

And Andrew…he’d picked up three strays, perhaps. Hadn’t asked for them, hadn’t planned for them. They’d moved into his life and his home in a whirl of moving boxes that emptied into cat-box-forts and armchairs that turned into cat-bed-holders and bookshelves that became cat-toy-hiding-places.

But Sir, King, Neil — those three strays were his.

you can find more aftg fics on my ao3!

#andreil #neil josten #andrew minyard #the foxhole court #all for the game #aftg #tfc #aftg fanfic #tfc fanfic #all for the game fanfic #the foxhole court fanfic #fanfic #kaystuff #kay fanfic

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cakejots · 3 years

Text

this is us trying, Chapter 1 - The Beginning of an End

In this AU, they don’t know each other outside of the suit. And in this AU, Ladybug and Chat Noir love each other. But in this AU, Chat doesn’t want their identities revealed.

Written for @ladynoirjuly 2021

notes: this is a coherent story based on all the prompts; each chapter contains at least 3 prompts

Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 4 | Ch 5 | Ch 6 | Ch 7 | Ch 8 | Ch 9 | Ch 10

Read on AO3

1. Older

“Well, Chaton?”

Chat stared at Ladybug as though she had grown an extra head.

“My lady, are you sure you want to know?”

“Oh come on Chat, there are at least tens of thousands of people who are of the same age. There’s no way you can figure out who I am just from that.” She leaned forward, chin on her palms and eyes sparkled with anticipation.

“Hmm, that is true.” His fingers under his chin, eyes searching the sky. “I'm turning 21 this year.”

Ladybug looked dazed for a moment before smugness took over. “So I was right about your age! Well, the age range at least.”

“Oh? And how did my lady manage to guess it?”

Ladybug slowly ran her eyes down his body before peering right back into his eyes, and she smiled innocently.

Chat barked out a laugh.

“Now guess mine!”

“Don’t need to. I know you’re in the same age range as meow.”

She raised an eyebrow and his lips curled slyly. “The same way you managed to guess my age. Do you really want me to say it? Or in this case, show it to you?”

Ladybug couldn’t help but blush. “Okay, okay. You’re not wrong, I’m turning 21 this year too.”

Chat’s child-like demeanour came back, eyes lighting up. “Okay, but now I have to know who’s actually older! Mine’s in September.”

“I'm Leo, so the range is from July to August,” she grinned.

Chat regarded her with a mixture of awe and shock. “No way… You’re actually older than me!”

“Why is this a shock to you? I am more mature than you are,” Ladybug giggled.

“I mean, yeah, but for that fact to get thrust into my face, it just feels—”

“Surreal. I get it,” she sighed blissfully.

They fell into a peaceful silence as this new realisation settled within their hearts and minds. They were finding the most minute of things to share without giving away their identities, and just this tiny, basic fact about each other was overwhelming enough.

This, was something they could experience soon enough, to be normal again and enjoy the process of courting. This, was something they could slowly discover about each other soon enough, to fall in love harder, and to fall in love all over again.

“We are so close. So so close.” Chat gazed into her eyes, took her hand in his and squeezed, much like how his heart was feeling as it was overcome with emotions.

“We are finally nearing the end of all of this.” Ladybug pulled him into a tight hug.

2. Masks

It was over.

It was finally over.

It was a joyous day for Parisians as the supervillain who had been terrorising their city over the past few years had finally been caught and sent to prison.

It was a joyous day indeed.

But why was the atmosphere surrounding him so burdensome, just like the downpour that struck ever since he had entered the Agreste mansion?

The thunderstorm that raged above him, the Butterfly and Peacock Miraculouses that sat in his palm, and the face of the supervillain who was actually his father, glaring at him from a distance away with absolute despise and fury, they all seemed to be mocking him for his ill-fortune.

Of course there was no happy ending for him, even after the final battle. How could he have been so naive to believe that there was a positive outcome for him? He was the epitome of bad luck. From being chosen to be the Black Cat Miraculous holder, right down to his fate that had decided his course for him ever since he was brought into this world.

He was all alone now. His mother’s passing during his early teenage years had left an open wound in his heart. He saw the funeral happened. He cried as the ceremony went on for days on end. He was there to witness the burial of his mother. Those were definitive proof that his mother had passed. He has been mourning for his mother every year on her death anniversary.

So imagine his shock when he saw her in the basement he didn’t know existed, still as radiant and beautiful as he remembered. And to be slapped with the knowledge that his father had a hand in all of this.

He had a hand in withholding the truth about his mother’s whereabouts all this time. The truth that he had rights to. That she was well and alive but in deep deep slumber, one that she might never awake from. He had a hand in causing him so much pain, so much trauma. To be the perfect child he is to be, else he was no son of Gabriel. The direct role his father played in causing him to feel neglected, unloved, and worthless. Just so that he could play the supervillain and recruit innocent Parisians in his quest to obtain the Ladybug and Black Cat Miraculouses.

He caused Parisians so much pain, stripping them of their right to feel what they feel. A minor slipped up from being unable to control their emotions and they became the villains for the day. He had used them for his selfish desires, to do his dirty work for him. All this for not being able to move on from the death of his wife. Not being able to accept the natural cycle of life.

And all of this had happened under his nose, but he didn’t even know. He has been living with the supervillain all his life. He has interacted with the supervillain almost daily. He has shown care and concern for the supervillain. He has forgiven the supervillain for his actions, always telling himself that he had his reasons for acting the way he did. He was a superhero and he didn’t even know.

If he had known, maybe he'd be able to convince his father to stop whatever he was doing. Maybe even prevent the current outcome of events, and even save his father from serving jail time. Some superhero he is.

He didn't know what would become of his mother, but he had long accepted that she had passed. And now, his father will leave his side, to pay for what he did.

Chat was truly alone now.

“Chaton?”

He blinked and looked over to his left. His lady was standing right beside him with concerned eyes, her hands on his left arm. The rain had lightened up considerably and he could see her as clear as day. He didn’t register her touch until he had seen it himself.

Chat wordlessly turned towards her and extended his right hand, the hand that held the two missing Miraculouses. He was expecting her to take them from him and called it a day with their habitual fist bump, but she closed his right hand and held both his hands in hers tightly and peered into his eyes.

“Chaton, are you alright?”

Ladybug cursed herself for asking the obvious. Clearly, he wasn’t feeling his usual self. The cheeky and confident demeanour he always had after the end of a battle was gone. His ears, tail, and posture seemed so deflated and depressed that he just looked like a kitten kicked hard.

She touched his face.

Chat grabbed her hand on his face and wanted to smack himself. His lady was right beside him all this time as he was drowning himself in self-loathing and self-pity. He couldn't let his gloominess take hold of her on this glorious day.

“I’m fine,” Chat showcased the brightest smile he could muster at that moment.

Ladybug worried her lips, not buying it for a single second.

“Chaton…”

He knew she wasn’t going to buy his act with the way she was watching him. Chat really didn’t know what he should do. His hand squeezed hers, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

“Can we go for a run, just for a while? I promised we’ll talk when we meet up again at the Eiffel Tower.”

When Ladybug didn’t respond, he opened his eyes to beg. “Please?”

Ladybug squeezed his hand before nodding and letting go, giving him a head start. Chat caught her hands before they fell completely by her side, and placed the Miraculouses within her palms. He made sure she put them away securely before jumping away. She followed him soon after, giving him the time and space he needed.

When Ladybug arrived at the Eiffel Tower, Chat seemed really nervous. She really didn’t know what made him like this, but he shouldn’t be that restless. Not of the revelations he made during the final battle and his rooftop run, and he definitely should not be uneasy about her arriving.

She extended her arms towards him. “Minou, can I hug you?”

Chat rushed to her and embraced her tightly. Her hands drew soothing circles on his back to release tension from his body, and he relaxed ever so slightly into hers.

“Okay, I’m ready to talk.” He took a deep breath to mentally prepare himself before he continued. “I-I know you’re looking forward to the reveal after the final battle. I am too. We’ve waited years for this moment. But… but can we not do that now?”

Ladybug instantly pulled back and gawked at him. To say that she was shocked was an understatement. She did not expect this at all. Yes, she totally forgot about the reveal because she was so focused on making sure he’s alright, but for him to just drop the bomb on her like that. “But—”

“I know this is a really unfair request from me,” he quickly added. “But I don’t want to deceive you. We can go on dates in our suits! So that you get to know me. All of me. How I act in and out of battle.”

He slowly averted his gaze. “And that the feelings you have for me will still be there even after our dates.”

Ladybug couldn’t believe her ears, Chat is still Chat, no matter the situation. The fact that he didn’t even include her in the proposal he just suggested made it obvious that he wasn’t even convinced himself. They both knew that they weren’t going to act any different. They’ve hung out outside of Akuma attacks, they will be the same in and out of the suit. It just didn’t make sense.

“Chat...” she pleaded.

“I’m so sorry, I’m so so sorry. Please don’t leave me,” he sobbed and enveloped her in a bear hug, afraid that she'd run if he didn’t have a tight enough grasp on her.

Wait, what? No, no! Where did he get the idea that she’s going to leave?

“I-I can’t—”

That's absurd.

“Chat, you don’t have to explain.” Her hands continued the back rubs from before, making sure that it soothed him enough till he’s comfortable loosening his grip. She slowly pulled back and cupped his cheeks, a smile on her face. “Words are not needed. I may not understand the reasons behind your decisions now, but I trust that your heart is in the right place.”

That subtle shine in his eyes did not go unnoticed by Ladybug. “Words cannot express how thankful I am, my lady.”

“Well, then better make it up to me with the dates you promised.”

“Of course, my lady.”

Judging the look on his face, she slowly added, “Do you need more time to sort things out?”

“I don’t know. Can you stay with me a while longer?”

She nodded understandingly and went back to hugging him. Chat tightened his arms around her and breathed in her scent. Her fingers left delicate touches in its trail from his back to his scalp, knowing full well that it's a gesture he’d appreciate. Low rumbles of purring slowly filled the air around them.

They stayed tangled for who knows how long before Ladybug popped the question.

“About the masks, are you sure?”

“Yeah. We don’t drop them,” Chat said with a conviction he knew was never there.

3. Tease

It’s been a week since the defeat of Shadowmoth.

A week since Chat broke down from whatever he had experienced during that short time frame of the final battle.

A week since he had declined the reveal.

Ladybug wasn’t pleased, how could she be? She had waited 6 long years for that, ever since the day they first met and swore to protect Paris from Hawkmoth’s clutches. Well, Shadowmoth now.

It sucked. Even Shadowmoth has had development. Her relationship with Chat? Null.

No. It wasn’t fair to say that. Of course their relationship had developed. From practical strangers to lovers, they trusted each other with their lives, even if they didn’t know who the other was behind that mask. That’s some intense trust they have right there.

But still.

She was really looking forward to the reveal. They were really looking forward to the reveal.

Chat must have had a reason for what he chose that day, strong enough to throw away what he desired most. But what?

Ladybug sighed, she supposed the only thing she could do was to hope that nothing about their relationship had changed. And be there for him when he needs it, like a good girlfriend she is. Are they even a couple? The unnamed boundaries were causing her additional anxiety she didn’t need now. She guessed she’d have to talk it out with Chat and make clear where they stood.

She got broken out of her thoughts when she heard footsteps approaching her.

“Hey...”

Before she even turned around, the tone of his voice sounded so tired, as though coming here was a chore for him. He had shared with her before that meeting her is always the highlight of his day. For it to become a chore… He must be really affected by it.

“My lady?” He stopped behind her.

That wouldn’t do.

She whipped around and flicked his bell, “Hey Chaton, you’re here!”

And as if that wasn’t enough, she had the sweetest smile he has ever seen plastered on her beautiful face. Those rosy cheeks and welcoming lips upturned, and the whites of her teeth slightly visible from her smile, directed at him. So happy to see him. So thrilled for him to be here.

It shot right through his heart. He couldn’t do anything else besides fixate his eyes on her radiant and alluring face.

“Aww, cat got your tongue? Or in this case, a ladybug got your tongue?” She cooed and flicked his bell once more.

She was relieved she still has this effect on him.

“S-she definitely did.” A pink hue dusted his cheeks.

Cute.

Ladybug figured the only thing she could do was to remind him of all the enjoyable memories they had together and banish the sad ones that gripped him from a week ago. The reveal can wait. What's important was to make sure he doesn’t forget why they wanted the reveal in the first place.

She concluded upping her tease factor was the way to go.

“I’ll make sure you know that my feelings for you are real and you won’t be able to resist my charms any longer.”

“My lady,” Chat whined. He was already regretting his decisions from a week before.

Ladybug, on the other hand, was grinning. She’d accept whatever he’s willing to give. She supposed she could get the ball rolling, to begin filling in on fresh empty pages as they experience falling in love all over again. Because deep down, that is what they’ve wanted after all.

#ladynoirjuly2021 #ladynoirjuly #ladynoir #mesfics #miraculous ladybug #fanfic #mlb fanfic #ladybug #chat noir #alternate universe #light angst #fluff #hurt/comfort #this is us trying

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