#But this was just the delightful cherry of not being able to sleep at fucking. ALL .

[kingprinceleo]

Oh fuck me fuckme fuck me

[ki-yomii]

🫧 inbox | discord | AO3 🫧 requests: closed | tag lists: open newest fics | soaked ; jjk ; 18+ baby, don't go ; myg ; 18+ last updated | 3/31/24

☁️hit it/forget it mini-series; part one of three | 18+

finally able to unwind for the first time in forever, you go to a friend’s party. only somewhere along the way you find yourself in bed with someone you swore you’d never sleep with

🌙hush one-shot | 18+

it’s movie night with the boys, and jungkook’s feeling a little too adventurous

☁️two for the show mini-series | 18+ | NEW

jungkook isn't as alone as he thinks he is (aka you catch him jerking off in your bed with a pair of your panties)

🌙noona one-shot; request | 18+ w.i.p.

☁️like i do one-shot; request | 18+

“Jk being a jealous husband, angst and smuttttt 🥹💘”

🌙colour outside the lines one-shot | 18+ w.i.p.

☁️careful one-shot | 18+

you should always be careful what you ask for

🌙down on you one-shot; mafia au | 18+

it’s true, he owns you: blood, bones, and all

☁️is you is or is you ain't (my baby) one-shot; fwb au | 18+

after being stood up one too many times, you realize you're in love with jungkook. and that just won't do.

🌙cherry bomb mini-series; seven parts | 18+ w.i.p.

☁️gamer boy one-shot | 18+ w.i.p.

🌙hit the gym one-shot | 18+

stopping now would ruin all the fun

☁️criminal tongues one-shot; hades au | 18+ w.i.p.

🌙ain’t my fault one-shot; request, arranged marriage au | 18+ w.i.p.

☁️personal taste one-shot | 18+

jungkook gets a little too excited and cums early, but he's more than happy to make it up to you

🌙give it to me one-shot | 18+

of course, it’s as you resign yourself to never getting dicked down by one min yoongi (after flashing him your whole bare ass) that the tides turn in your favor

☁️born a tiger one-shot; tiger god au | 18+ w.i.p.

🌙kiss / consume one-shot; daechwita au | 18+ w.i.p. ☁️rise up a dragon one-shot; daechwita au | 18+ w.i.p.

🌙blooming dream one-shot | 18+ w.i.p.

☁️anachronism one-shot; charon au | 18+ w.i.p.

🌙wreck me one-shot; siren au | 18+ w.i.p.

☁️the hand that feeds one-shot; hybrid au | 18+ w.i.p.

🌙tarnish one-shot; haegeum au | 18+ w.i.p.

☁️i’m thinking about you one-shot | 18+

“You got all dressed up and pretty for me? Fuck, you’re such a good girl.”

🌙phases of a daydream one-shot | 18+

you get up early to surprise yoongi with breakfast in bed

☁️beg one-shot; request | 18+

"Oh no, not until you beg." & "Relax your throat." With Min Yoongi :3

🌙baby, don't go one-shot; request, exes to lovers | 18+ | NEW

hii can I request for an exes to lovers trope with yoongi 😭💖 lovee your ficss (aka you find out your boyfriend is cheating on you. thankfully your ex Yoongi is more than happy to distract you.)

☁️tongue technology one-shot; yoongi x reader x jungkook | 18+

yoongi teaches jungkook how to eat out his girl

🌙violent delights one-shot; yoongi x reader x jungkook; zombie apocalypse au | 18+ w.i.p.

☁️b.d.e one-shot; seokjin x reader | 18+

don't you know he'll never fit if he doesn't prep you first

🌙she thinks of me one-shot; request ; taehyung x reader | 18+ w.i.p.

[sxdmoonchxld]

Operation: Pop The Cherry | JJK

Jungkook x Virgin!Reader

Genre: Smut

Warnings: rough bathroom sex, college au, unprotected sex, teasing, fingering, Jungkook has a virgin kink if you couldn’t tell by he title, lowkey sadistic JK, Gay BFF Jimin, mentions of alcohol and weed, brief mention of homophobia. bIG diCK Jungkook, more belly bulging, and I forgot what else

Word Count: 6.1k

Summary: Against you better judgement and thank to your best friend Jimin. You somehow agreed to let a stranger on campus known as the Cherry Popper, too well..pop your cherry.

Alternatively: You're a virgin. Jungkook has a fetish/kink for fucking virgins.

A/N: I guess i’ll keep putting this note until i stop reposting my old stories. I use to be lizardsocial, and this fic was previously called Game. You may still be able to find it somewhere on tumblr. I edited this fic heavily and it’s honestly a new story, but there are still some elements from the fic it used to be still in there. Unedited so please let me know of any mistakes or typos. Like, comment, reblog, let me know what you think. Enjoy!

_________________________________________

Bass boosted pop music seeped through the dense walls of the energetic room. Strobing bright colored beams danced to the rhythm of the music in mesmerizing synchrony. The musty odor of marijuana, booze, and sex-saturated air shrouded the room in a turbid veil, covering the sea of drunken undulating bodies packed in the cramped living room.  Empty beer cans and other various booze bottles mixed with burnt-out blunts accompanied the young adults. You groaned with irritation and disgust. You didn't want to be here, but to your chagrin, you had a promise to keep.

It wasn't a secret that the college nightlife was unquestionably not your type of 'scene.' You quite frequently elected to willingly engage most of your time in your freshman dorm, wrapped in your weighted burrito blanket. A nightstand stockpiled with all your favorite snacks, lights dimmed low, and lavender incense burning, filling your room with the aroma of relaxation. The perfect setting to binge-watch your favorite show for the umpteenth time, the shifting distorted brightness of your computer screen, projecting the scenes against your face. 

It's kind of funny how you got yourself into this mess in the first place. The one time you decide to take the chance and branch away from the alternate antisocial hermit, your personality had adopted as its own had come back to bite you in the ass. You admit, lately, you've been neglecting your best friend. Your reasonings generally varying from the classic 'oh I was sleep' to deliberately silencing your phone, not wanting to hear the constant shrill ringing of the default ringtone. You loved Jimin, you truly did, but you could only take so much of his eccentric mashup of bubblegum and rainbow sparkles that was his personality. Eventually, guilt began eating away at you piece by piece until you ultimately caved in and invited your friend over for an impromptu movie night in your dorm room. 

Not even 30 minutes into the movie, one that you had been dying to see, might you add, Jimin commenced his drunk and high chattering. He had already started 'pre-gaming' before he came over; Six shots of straight Vodka and 2 blunts. Every day you prayed for this man's liver and brain function; with how much he drank and smoke, you would think he needed it to function. 

"Oh! Oh! Bitttch. Did I tell you about that football player, I fucckked last week!" Jimin started slurring on certain words. You noticed his eyes were glossy and glazed over. 

"No, you didn't, Chim." You sighed, completely giving up trying to watch the movie. You would have to watch it on your alone time. 

"Reeaally?" Jimin slurred, a goofy grin uplifting his lips.

"Yes, really. You haven't told me." Amusement lightly coated your voice. 

"Welll, his name is T-tae, Tae-tae something. Hold on, it's coming to me." Jimin said, rubbing the sides of his temples, trying to remember the guys' name. 

"Taehyung! That's it!" Jimin shrieked, snapping his fingers in victory.

You looked at him startled. You remember Taehyung from high school. You didn't recall him being at this college, though. Well, it wasn't like you paid attention to many things outside your bubble anyway.

"Wasn't he homophobic as fuck in high school?" You asked, genuinely interested.

"Yeah, he was. Buttt I guess he was trying to cover up, that he was actually on the DL." Jimin smiled, whispering the last part.

"DL? What's that mean?" You inquired

Jimin looked at you with a look of betrayal. "It means he's on the down-low, meaning he didn't want anyone to know he's gay. Girrl, I'm too crossfaded to be explaining this to you."

You chuckled, " My bad, Chim. So was it good?"

"Fuck, no! Dick was straight trash. The only thing that saved him a little was that his dick was huge." Jimin said, wiping away a pretend tear from the corner of his eye. 

You laughed boisterously at that. If Jimin wasn't so adamant about becoming a professional dancer. He could seriously take up a career in comedy.

"Speaking of dick. When are you gonna get some?" Jimin asked, turning his body to face you completely. As you looked at him, you noticed his eyes seemed a bit clearer, and his face wasn't as red as earlier. Not only did Jimin drink like a fish and smoke like a chimney. He was somehow able to sober just as fast.

"Oh my god, Jimin. Please don't sta-"

"Mmm, no missy," Jimin said, wagging his finger in your face.

"Don't you hear it?" He said, cupping his hand around his ear as if he was straining to hear something.

"Hear what?" You replied, rolling your eyes and crossing your arms against your chest.

"The cobwebs and tumbleweed living in your cunt."

"Jimin!" You shrieked, slapping the arm closest to you.

"Don't Jimin me! You know it's true, I swear you're gonna be a 40-year-old virgin, and by the time you finally make the decision to have sex, it'll be too late!" Jimin yelled, stumbling to stand up from the couch.

"First off, ouch. I won't be a 40-year-old virgin. That's very insulting. Second, I do plan to lose it soon. I just haven't found the time or the right guy." You said, looking down at your feet shyly. You did want to lose your virginity, but with being an introvert with a mix of social anxiety and just a dash of seasonal depression for added flavor. It was hard even to get out of bed sometimes. Much less going out and trying to find someone to do the do with.

"Oh! Well, if that's all, then I got you covered, babe. Time? Next week Friday at Jihyo's dorm. As for the right guy, I know a dude. He has like a kink for that kind of thing." Jimin answered nonchalantly, now scrolling through his phone, probably on his social media page.

You looked at Jimin, head tilted to the side, confused. "What kind of thing?"

"Oh, you know fucking virgins and shit. Popping their cherries." He said, popping his "P's."

You sputtered, exasperated. What the fuck. You didn't kink shame, that was for losers, but he can't seriously expect you to do something like that.

"What the actual fuck. Jimin, are you serious?"  

"Deadly." He said, looking you square in your eyes. His tone of voice haven dropped an octave lower.

"Jimin no. I-i can't."

"Jimin, yes! Err, I mean _____ yes, you can! Come on, it's a once in a lifetime experience. Plus, it's not like he's a total stranger. I've known him since he was 8 years old. I use to babysit the little shit head." Jimin said, waving his hand in the air, trying to swat away a rogue fly.

"Wow, Chim. You know, now that you put it like it makes me feel a lot better about the situation." You said tone dripped in sarcasm

"Really?" Jimin squealed, a delighted twinkling in his eye.

"Of course not! Don't be stupid!" Offended, you gawked at Jimin. You swear sometimes he could be so dimwitted.

"Come on, please? At least meet him, and if the vibe is not right, then you can leave no harm done." Jimin pleaded, his attention back on you. Was it crazy that you were actually thinking about agreeing to this? Jimin did have a point. It was sort of a once in a lifetime opportunity. He did know the guy, and if you didn't like the vibe, then you could just bounce, right? Right?

Sighing in defeat, your hands dragged down your face and turned towards a pouting Jimin. Grabbing at his deflated shoulders, you shook her lightly, and with urgency in your voice, you spoke, "Alright goddammit! I'll do it, but you have to stay by my side the whole time, no running off, you understand!" 

You watched Jimin's face quirk into a sly smirk. You swore you could see the cogs in his brain churning. Damn, you were going to regret this. You had the tendency to make deals when pressured. Most of the time, those agreements ended up backfiring on you, confining you in the proverbial rock and a hard place. 

"Yay! Operation: Pop _____ Cherry has commenced. Okay, so will meet at the auditorium on the art campus. From there we will walk to Jihyo's dorm, it's only five minutes. Promise me you'll actually show up and won't flake on me." A complacent expression rested arrogantly on Jimin's features, a single pinky finger extended towards you. 

"Don't give this situation a not-so-secret code name. And I can't believe I'm saying this but, I promise." You agreed, interlocking pinky fingers, yours thumbs coming up to press against one another.

"So I'll meet you at the location Friday, don't be late, and wear something sexy. No granny clothes." he chirped, making his way to your front door.

"Wait! You're leaving already?" you frowned, looking at the clock on your wall. He's only been here for an hour, and 30 mins of it were spent persuading you to hurry up and lose your virginity. You didn't even get to finish the movie together.

"Sorry babe, but I have a dick appointment." he shrugged, putting his arms through the sleeves of his jacket.

"Can you at least tell me the name of the guy who's supposed to fuck me?" you huffed, honestly you were done for tonight. As soon as Jimin left, you were heading straight for bed.

"Oh yeah, how could I forget." Jimin slaps the center of his forehead. "He's a real cutie. I would fuck him if he wasn't as straight as an arrow." Jimin looks off to a far wall, eyeing it with jealousy.

"Just tell me his name, please." You pleaded. Oh yeah, that's definitely a headache forming. You could feel it already. Jimin snaps out of his daydreaming and spins his body towards you.

"Jungkook."

Time skip to a week later, and precisely as you suspected, what a mistake that whole conversation was. Now here you were at this fucking dorm party with people you didn't know or care to get to know. Jimin had left you as soon as he saw his next piece of ass. Restlessly you hauled down the short black dress that insisted on riding up your ass, the soles of your feet protesting in the slim heeled shoes. Floundering your way into the packed building, you couldn't help but query where Jungkook was. Jimin was supposed to get around to send you a picture of the mystery man, but that never happened. Funny how now was the best time you decided to question why exactly Jimin was your best friend.

"Well damn, the pictures Jimin sent me doesn't do you justice at all. You're fucking hot." You recoiled from the closeness of the voice, the heated breath sending chills skittering down your spine, and the hairs on the back of your neck ramrod straight. Heat spurred to your face when you whisked around to meet an absolutely gorgeous guy. Like unfairly gorgeous guy. You stared wide-eyed, taking in his chiseled facial features, paired with wide doe eyes and bunny smile decorating his face. Somehow, someway he's mastered looked soft and sexy at the same damn time. And fuck was that a dangerous combination for your pussy. Your heart too, but more so your cunt.

"U-uh, thanks? Who are you exactly?" You watch as he recoils back from your with a look of apprehension on his face.

"A-are you not ____?" he stutters cutely. You think you can see the beginnings of a blush burning his cheeks. You nod your head once to confirm his question. He stared at you a minute longer before you see the recognition spark in his chocolate orbs.

"Jimin didn't send you my picture did he?" Shaking his head with his eyes close, you get the courage the scan his face a bit more. Yeah. He's definitely blushing.

"Sorry. I guess seeing you here, I thought Jimin would have...prepared you better." Shaking your head from side to side because your words refused to come out. You watched as he backed up a bit further from your personal space and thrust his right hand out to you. 

"The name's Jungkook, or J.K. Whatever suits your taste."

With clammy hands, you taking his outstretched hand marveled at how it almost covers your hand. Now that he's moved back from you, you now had to chance to see how tall he really was. Maybe about 6 to 7 inches taller. You look down at his feet and eye his combat boot, perhaps a little shorter but still taller. And big, yeah, definitely bigger. His oversized black jacket did little to hide the broadness of his shoulders and chest. You let your eyes travel down the length of his body. You bet he's hiding some killer abs under his shirt. And holy fuck, his thighs.

"You like what you see, baby girl?" Teasing, he's teasing but God, if his voice didn't make you pussy throbbing pathetically. Whimpering slightly, you let out a meek "Yes." God, you hope he didn't hear that.

Much to your dismay, he did, hear you. How he heard you with the music as loud as it was, was a mystery to you. But you watched his pupils dilate, and his nostrils flare slightly. Jungkook tucks his bottom lip between his teeth as his eyes rake up and down your scantily clad body. His heated stare scrutinized across your body, intrigue exerting over him, as he analyzed the way the snug-fitting dress molded to the curves of your shape. He could tell you didn't do this often. His dick twitched in his jeans with enthusiasm. 

It's the increase in pressure of your hand that makes you realize you're still holding his hand. You go to retract your hand from his. However, yelp shrilly as he tugs you closer to his body. Both hands now resting on his chest, and his wrapped around your waist. Fuck, you could feel the warmth and coarseness of his hands through your thin dress. A spontaneous tremor racked your body. The heat-transmitting from his frame mixed with the floral yet musky undertone of his cologne made you somewhat featherbrained.

"Fuck, you're so soft." You squeak as he squeezes your waistline, pulling you even closer against his body. You were now putty in his hands.

"Jimin told you my....preferences, right?" his voice caressed your ear. Just a slight movement or subtle twitch, and his lips would be on your skin.

"Y-yeah, he did." It should be an embarrassment how frail and breathless you sounded, but that didn't matter.

Jungkook hid his smile behind your ear. This was just too easy. Just how he liked it. He almost felt bad- almost. He was gonna ruin you utterly and completely, mold the shape of cock in the walls of your pussy. His name spilling from your lips, voice going hoarse by how loud he would make you scream. Fuck he couldn't wait. He's had virgin's before, a lot of them. That's his whole M.O. The cherry popper, virgin fucker, whatever. Jungkook's heard all the names in the book. But there's just something about you, you just had an air of genuine innocence, and he couldn't wait to defile it. 

Jungkook pulls his head back, enough to where his eyes can trail over the bared skin of your neck, and the sprinkling of perspiration sparkling off the bright strobing lights, no doubt from nervousness. His tongue traced over his thin upper lip, watching the droplets of sweat spiral down the curve of your neck. He wanted to taste you. 

"Alright, then." He jerks his body away from you. You're no longer touching his chest, but his hands are still on your waist. 

"Let's enjoy the party before the fun really begins. Every done body shots before?" Jungkook spoke casually, undeterred by the way you recoiled back or the look of stupor on your face.

"W-what? B-body shots, why?" you squeaked, failing to keep from stuttering over your words. Is this how it's supposed to go? Is this normal? You're bewildered, and just a bit perturbed. Were you just imagining that sexual tension that was going on just moments ago? For sure, you thought Jungkook was gonna throw you over his shoulders and haul you off to the nearest unoccupied bedroom or bathroom. At that instant, you didn't care. 

Jungkook regarded the war of emotions wage across your features, merriment and strobing lights twinkling in his eyes. Fuck, you were cute, so desperate staring up at him with a pout on your face a puppy dog eyes. He could honestly just take you back to the closest room and fuck the shit out of you. But he wanted to play with his prey, a bit more. The wait made it that much more satisfying.

"Don't pout too much, baby girl or I may not be able to contain myself. Follow me. The table is this way."

Jungkook didn't indulge in answering any of your questions you rambled off at him, delighted to see you trailing on his heels like a lost pup. Jungkook directed you further into the dorm, and like a dog on a leash, you followed. In the center of a sparse room sat a scraped up black table. You observed the area. It was devoid of many people. The several that were present made no recognition of your proximity in their intoxicated state.

"So who's first?" Jungkook asked, setting the bottle of tequila, rim salt, and limes down on the table.

"U-uh, I don't know. I guess it doesn't matter." You shrugged hesitantly. You were way out of your element here.

"Perfect then, you first." Jungkook should be ashamed by how excited he was at getting to sample your skin. It looked smooth, felt soft when he had you in his arms, and would no doubt probably taste as sweet as it seemed. You nodded in docility, wandering over to crawl on top of the table, being attentive to your dress. You lay flattened against the table, shiverings racking your body as he began pouring a trail of salt between your cleavage. 

He poured himself a shot in the depression of your throat and tore the lime in half with his bare hands. Smirking at how you flinched when he thumped the liquor bottle down beside your head. Jungkook pushed the other half of the unevenly split lime towards your lips, a silent gesture to take the lime in your mouth. Jungkook watched as your lips curled gently around the hull of the green citrus. A flare of lust stirred in his loins at the action. He couldn't wait to see your lips stretched around the head of his cock. He observed your eyes clamped closed as he began dropping his head forward to your chest. It was adorable and innocent. He noted the way your lips slackened around the citrus in your mouth, your chest heaving in speed, the closer his tongue trailed to your neck.

You tasted splendid, just as sweet as he thought. The salt on your skin did nothing to deter your natural flavor. If anything, it enhanced your sweetness, rendering your skin damn near mouth-watering. Jungkook's ears perked at the breathless moans slipping past the fruit perched against your lips, drawn out by the repeated pass of the wet, pink appendage lapping at the salt line between the valley of your breast. Committing your muffled moans to memory, he lapped persistently at the collection of salt and tequila in the hollow at the base of your neck.

You face flammed in embarrassment as panting moans effortlessly tumbled from your mouth. Who knew your chest and neck was such an erogenous spot. Despite your shame, you couldn't stop wriggling, shifting your thighs together for some form of friction to sate the rising arousal dampening your panties. You yelped at the sensation of blunt teeth nibbling at your skin before soft lips came to suck at the shallow indentations. Fluffy hair with an undercut came into your line of vision as Jungkook lifted his head up to your lips. Your heart stammered tortuously against your ribs, flirtatious eyes stared lidded with searing lust, his head advanced closer to your lips. Your eyes fluttered closed, lips puckering against the bitter hull of the lime.

Jungkook closed the distance, slanting his mouth over the lime, blocking his contact with yours. He sucked against the sour fruit, acidity puckering his lips, residual tartness flowing to your cracked lips. Jungkook withdrew from your mouth, taking the drained lime hull with it. Your saccharine moans were heaven to his ears. It had awoken something inside him, fueled his fire in knowing that possibly no one had ever heard such a sweet sound. He wanted more, craved more. 

"Have you ever been kissed before, sweetheart?" Your eyes followed the movement of his tongue, poking out to moistening his lips. 

"Yeah, once in like 3rd grade." Who hasn't snuck behind a tree or hid underneath the dark coverings of playground equipment to lock lips with a childhood crush?

He grinned salaciously, body moving to rest between your spread legs. Oh, now he was really excited. Your lips were practically untouched. Just another part of your body to claim first. You jumped when palms pressed flat against the revealed skin of your thigh. Gently, Jungkook rubbed lazy circles on your skin, never lowering or furthering than the hem of your dress. He felt you wiggle beneath his hands, observed your eyes, glimpsing―darting about, should you concentrate on his face, or his hand, uncertainty was etched on your face.

"Amazing." He groaned, eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks, before grinning again. His face inched closer to yours, his lips but a breath apart, warmth flickered against your lips as he talked, level and smooth. " Well, how about I become your second?

And then his lips were on you, the soft muscle mangled itself to your lips, tentative and sluggish to give you a chance to register his mouth slanted upon yours. Jungkook chuckled against your lips at your unresponsiveness. He guesses you were a little shell shocked. It only takes a few more stagnant seconds before you're shyly reciprocating his kiss. Delicate, shaky movements highlighted your inexperience. Increasingly, Jungkook increased the pressure behind lips, his hands spreading to enclose around your waist, dragging you closer against him. One of Jungkook's hands removed from your waist to bury itself in your hair, gently his fingernails scratched against your scalp, an airy moan was his reward. 

Hands completely abandoning your midsection, one gripped the meat of your thigh, pulling you to the edge of the table, flush against the tent of his denim jean encased manhood, the other embedded in your strands pulled sharply on your roots, a loud gasp tearing from you. Jungkook took that opportunity to advance his tongue into your gaped mouth. His tongue wrapped itself around yours, briefly wrestling for dominance before easily pinning your tongue in submission. His hips ground against yours, the heat of your covered core teased him through his jeans. 

He thoroughly explored your mouth, swallowing the now copious cries leaving your mouth. Reluctantly, Jungkook tore himself from your kiss-swollen lips. The ravished looked suited you perfectly. You looked beautiful, thighs brazenly spread, eyes glazed over in lust, your sticky chest heaving from the length of the shared kiss. Even in the dim lights, he could make out the taunt pebbling of your nipples. 

Your mouth gaped wide, flapping about like a fish out of water, trying despairingly to draw air into your lungs. Your first kiss definitely didn't compare to this much. Your wide eyes flicked between Jungkook and the floor, your bottom lip tucked firmly between your teeth, feeling shy as he just stares at you. Releasing your teeth from your lips, you timidly touched your mouth, admiring how plump they've gotten from the intense liplock.

Wordlessly Jungkook hitched you over his shoulder, winded with a grunt as his defined shoulder blades dug into your stomach and what sounded like a growled vibrate up into you. You squirmed lightly in his hold, scared he was going to drop you, and secondly, your panty-clad ass on display for the party-goers, not that anyone was looking. 

You watched the continuous panels of hardwood floor move beneath you as Jungkook carried you to an unknown destination. You couldn't believe you were really doing this. Were you actually going to have sex with a complete stranger? Someone who was known for explicitly fucking virgins. Realistically, you should be ashamed, yet, you conceded full control to him without a second thought. What did that say about you? About your character? Would you now be labeled as 'easy' or a 'hoe' after all this was done? What was going to happen between you and Jungkook? 

The flick of a switch stirred from your thoughts. You shield your eyes with your hand at the bright lights pouring into the room, or rather a bathroom. Jungkook loved the confusion marring your features. He wouldn't fuck you in his bedroom just yet. That was a privilege you would have to earn, no matter how intrigued he had become with you. There's always humiliation to be had in the corruption of innocence, and fucking you in the bathroom was a good start. He planned on making you watch him as he destroyed your body, popping your cherry, stretching your tight virginal hole to accommodate his length, and claimed it as his own. Jungkook shuddered at the thought, his possessive nature taking a turn for the worst. 

Impatiently Jungkook sat you on top of the bathroom sink counter, his lips smashed against yours, the previous tenderness was gone, vanished into a puff of smoke. Teeth banged, and tongues flailed recklessly against each other in the heat of passion, with you struggling to keep up with the demands of his dominating kiss. Thick fingers trailed beneath the hem of your dress, tickling the expanse of your thighs. Jungkook wasted no time in shifting your slick soaked panties to the side, a warm digit gliding effortlessly through your damn folds.

"Fuck, you're already so wet. You're enjoying this a little too much, baby girl." Jungkook growled, panting against your lips. His finger breached your sex, you tensed deftly around the foreigner intrusion, stretching your weeping walls. 

"Ah, Jungkook." You cried listlessly, rocking your hips against his stilled finger. He felt so good inside you, and it was just his finger. Maybe this experience wouldn't be as bad as you heard. Now you couldn't wait to see what his cock felt like embedded deep within your pussy. Jungkook pumped slowly, eventually introducing a second finger to help loosen you up more. You were gonna be a tight fit, very tight, but that just made it even better. You hissed at the slight burn as he began scissoring his fingers apart with each withdrawal. Your hands wrapped around his neck as you buried your head against his broad chest, your mellifluous moans suppressed by the fabric of his shirt. 

"G-go faster, please." You begged, your body adjusting and quickly becoming frustrated by the snail's pace his fingers were pumping. You bucked your hips against his hands, hoping he would ease the growing discomfort boiling in your stomach. 

"Have you ever had an orgasm before, babe?" You nodded eagerly at his question, whining as you bucked against his hand again.

"Oh, really? Who gave it to you." Slow, he was going too slow you wanted, no you needed more friction, more stimulation from him.

"M-me. I-i did." Jungkook loved how you stuttered, it stroked his ego and filled him with arrogance to know it was him, and only that was capable of making you stumble over your words.

"Mmm, and how did you do it? Did you rub this little clit of yours raw?" You cried louder when his thumb flicked at your clit, the stimulation further drawing the appendage from its hood.

"Or did you fuck this tight hole, with these tiny fingers of yours?" At those words, a loud, choked moan, even muffled by your face in his chest, echoed throughout the white bathroom. Jungkook had gone deeper inside, almost to the third knuckle. Another moan left your lips as he twisted his fingers inside you, his palm now facing upwards.

"Though you and I bought know they couldn't possibly reach deep enough to touch the spot you really want." It's euphoric, no better yet orgasmic, the sheer shock of electric pleasure that zaps through your body when he finds the spongy bundle of nerves. Your body jerked heavily, legs go to snap close, only to be stopped by his broad body between your thighs.

He chuckles softly, stroking your thigh with his other hand. Jungkook shifts his head down, bringing his mouth closer to your ear. He exhales quietly, warm air tinged with tequila and lime caresses the light hairs on you around your ear. " I found it, huh?"

You whimper, rubbing your head up and down against his chest.

"You want me to speed up the pace, sweetheart?" Jungkook's voice is delicate now, so gentle. But you're confused, overwhelmed, and scared. It's never felt like this when you did it yourself. Your not sure if you could handle the feeling, so you don't provide an answer to Jungkook's question.

"Don't ignore me ____, that's not nice manners. I'll ask again." You clench around his fingers as Jungkook inches just a bit deeper. 

"Do you. Want me. To go faster?" With each pause, he arches his fingers in a 'come here' motion, pressing deeply against your bundle of nerves, the sensation of having to pee accompanied with each thrust.

 "Y-yes, faster, more. Pl-lease." Fuck, you sounded so pretty begging for him if he wasn't addicted before. You had him sprung now. Jungkook buried his face in the crook of your neck, the sharp smell of tequila and salt still lingering on your skin. He sucked at the junction where your shoulder and neck met. You bucked harder against his fingers, your juices now dripping to coat his palm is sticky cream.

"If you wanted more. Why didn't you just ask?" Jungkook said deviously. Confused, you felt withdraw his sticky digits, walls gripping to stop their departure. Without warning, Jungkook flipped you over onto the counter, your knees buckled at the sudden change in position. Your faced burning at your displayed state, droplets of your essence dribbled from your pussy, slicking up your inner thighs. You yelped as Jungkook grasped at the length of your hair, pulling back pointedly, your neck craned back to observe him addressing you in the mirror.

"You've been wondrous for me ____. Such a sweet girl." He expressed, his empty hand disappearing behind your perked ass to fiddle with the groin of his pants. 

"Truly, you have. Your response and reactions to my touch have really gotten me riled up. It's been a while since I've tittered on the edge of losing control." You wheezed, starting to panic as you felt the thick head of his cock slap teasingly against your slicked throbbing hole. Oh, God, he's huge. Jungkook's cock might just tear you apart. You shifted your hips forward, pressing against the cold marble of the bathroom counters door.

"I-i don't think, I can t-take it Jungkook, you're too b-big. It's my first-time, r-remember?” Your stuttering worse now, but you're scared.

Jungkook pulls your hips back with the hand the was grasping his length, the side of your hip now coated in his pre-cum. His hand lays flat in the crease of your back, forcing you into a perfect arch. 

"You can take it, all of it. And don't worry, of course, I remembered your fragility. I'll go slow, I promise." You plead silently with your eye contact through the mirror. 

"You ready?" You nod once an advert your eyes down to the sink.

Your mouth shakily falls agape as he slowly began pushing the head of his cock into you. It burns, but not as bad as you had anticipated. You take the chance to look back up into the mirror, adamant about giving Jungkook a thankful smile for his gentleness. That vision that greets looks like it jumped right off the page of your favorite erotic story. 

Jungkook's got his head thrown back, the edge of his t-shirt clenched tightly between his teeth, your eyes trail the drip of sweat that follows the curve of his jawline. You have a clear view of his abs all the way down to the v-cut of his hip, to the happy trail that leads to a neatly trimmed bush of pubic hair. You clench tightly around him, efficiently aroused by the view. You feel his cock throbbed heavily inside you, even getting bigger if possible.

"You like that, sweet girl? You like seeing me struggling to contain myself because you're so tightly around me. This little pussy trying to milk me for all I can give you." You love it. You feel powerful in a way. Do you really feel that good around him?

"Yes." Jungkook draws out the 'S.' 

"You feel amazing, so warm and wet. I wished you could see how coated in white you've got me, and I'm not even all the way in yet."

You scream soundless as he bucks into you, shoving in half of his length. It doesn't hurt anymore. You just feel stuffed full. Lifting a trembling hand, you take the chance a feel the lower part. You noticed swelling that wasn't there before, intrigued; you push down against it, moaning in shock you realize it's Jungkook's cock. 

"Yeah, baby girl, that's all me, well, most of me. You ready to take the rest?"

"Yes! Please!" That's the clearest you've been all night. You don't get an answer as Jungkook immediately picks up his pacing, thrusting into you faster. He wastes no time pumping deeply into your tight pussy, his tip smashing against the entrance to your cervix as you pant and grit your teeth in slight discomfort, overshadowed by pleasure. The burning sensation is back as he fucks in deeper with each brutal and swift stroke. But you don't care cause it still feels amazing. You can hear yourself, sloppy and soaking wet, echoing throughout the bathroom. You're drooling down his pistoning cock. You can feel it dripping down your inner thighs. Your head jerks violently against your shoulders, to weak support your head from his menacing thrust. 

Tightened vocal cords released strained shrieks of praise; from your mouth, drool dripping from your lips, into the sticky cleavage of your breast, and sweat coated your skin. The coil in your stomach was quickly tightening, never had you felt anything so deep inside you. If you ever had sex with anyone else, they would never compare to Jungkook.  You were fucked both figuratively and literally.

Jungkook pulled you further from off the sink, the new position allowing him even deeper. You clawed at the marble tops underneath your fingers, your eyes rolling in the back of your head. That sensation of having to pee is back again.

"J-K, I-m. I have to-," You don't get to finish as the band in your stomach snapped. Silently you announced your release; if it wasn't for the new wave of cum coating his cock, or the fluttering tightness of your walls, Jungkook might have missed your orgasm. He wasn't far behind you. The constant clenching of your ridged walls around his cock, had him reaching his limit sooner than he would like. Jungkook had half a mind to pull out but decided to gamble his odds. You're the first person he's fucked raw in a while, and with three deep thrusts later, he was shooting his hot seed right against your cervix. 

Breathing heavily, Jungkook lets you fall against the sink, observing as you crumpled against the sink countertop. Pride swelled his chest as he watched his seed bubble out of your well-used hole. He's never contemplated going farther with the virgins he fucked. He wouldn't make any hasty decisions now though there were still a lot of things he wanted to do with you. He would sleep on it and revisit the idea in the morning.

"So would you say, Operation: Pop Your Cherry was a success?"

You giggled, winded, still having difficulty catching your breath. You straighten up against the bathroom counter, the majority of your weight still resting on the object as you had yet to regain the feeling in your legs.

"Jimin and his stupid code names. I swear when I get a hold ass, he's dead." You warned already preparing your revenge on your best friend. You stare at Jungkook in the eyes through the mirror, smile a bit goofy, you say.

"Operation: Pop My Cherry. Mission complete."

[keisurou]

build it up

(ft. koutarou bokuto)

minors dni. 

wc: 3.2k

Warnings: semi-public sex (in the locker room?), doggy style, mirror sex, mutual masturbation, blowjob, atsumu x kiyoomi ship, atsumu being a lil’ shit and drilling ideas into bo’s head, not edited. 

So my friends and I were fangirling discussing and apparently personality-wise, I’m basically a mix of Akaashi and Kenma, and it kinda makes sense because my top two comfort characters are Kuroo and Bokuto. Anyways, this is just a lil’ thing I wanted to try out, and again, this is not edited (i did edit it, and then my laptop just DIED so now its all gone. *sobs*) - does anyone want to be a beta-reader?? Because I literally went on a road trip with my family and just typed this in the car the entire time while my brothers screamed nonsense bs next to me. Hmu if you’re actually interested :) 

“Babe,” Bokuto murmurs into your neck, drawing out the word, his hair still damp and smoothed down from his shower not too long ago. You’re trying to focus on the pile of research assignments in front of you, but the way your fiance is rubbing circles on your back has you rereading the same sentence multiple times. “I heard something I wanna try,” 

“Hmm?” You hum noncommittally, encouraging him to continue, but you don’t look away from the papers. He frowns, frustration clawing at his belly and lets out a small grunt as he paws at your thighs exposed by your silk pyjamas. When he doesn’t speak, you turn to him and run your fingers through his damp locks before ruffling them slightly. “What’s wrong? Aren’t you tired? You have practice tomorrow morning, don’t you?” 

He doesn’t respond, his gaze locked on your lips and the way your tongue peeks out ever so slightly to wet your bottom lip only for a second. Bokuto has been strung tight lately; he had just returned from a training camp after being away from you for an entire week. He had been so excited to come home to you; he missed your smiles, your soft agreements, the way you came apart and lost yourself under his touch. But instead, he came home to you fully decked out in your ‘no sex’ gear. That’s right, from the ten piles of papers you had to mark, and a brand new box of red felt tips, you were ready for five days of no sleep, no fun, and absolutely nothing frisky with Bokuto. Needless to say, he almost cried when he first stepped into the apartment. 

But now, with only ten research papers left, you were practically finished. “Babe, let’s cuddle tonight,” You give him a look, and he deflates only a little before quickly adding, “I’ll be good, I swear,” 

“Kou-kun,” you lean in and give him a soft peck on the cheek, and he’s so touch starved that he sits motionless, absorbing the way your lips brush against his skin for as long as he can. “You’re always good.” You move away, and he quickly grabs your hands, intertwining your fingers together. “But if I finish up here today, I won’t be able to see you play tomorrow,” 

He’s silent as he contemplates this and then promptly hooks a hand around your waist and pulls you to him. His lips slant over yours, and it only takes you a second to melt into the kiss, hands flying to the hem of his t-shirt to drag him closer. Your lips are warm, and he can taste the sweetness of cherries from the dizzying brush of your tongue. He leans back against the sofa, and you clamber onto his lap, your softness meeting the hard planes of his body as you kiss along the smooth column of his neck. There is nothing sexier than the way you press a kiss before nibbling along his jaw, and his hands automatically find their way under your sleep shirt to squeeze at a naked breast. 

You let out a strangled moan and immediately press your body to his chest, halting his movements. Bokuto’s eyes widen as he tentatively brushes a thumb on the underside of your breast, only for you to shudder. “Koutarou, wait,” you pant softly, grabbing at his arm to pull it from your chest. “I’m really sensitive today, and it hurts if you squeeze too roughly,” 

“Why?”

“I’m on my period,” you say simply, and he blurts out the first thing that pops into his head. 

“So, no sex?” 

You shake your head, and his erection throbs painfully in his shorts as it strains against the material, somehow understanding the situation but not exactly cooperating. You get up to clear the table, and when you stretch, he can clearly see the way your nipples poke through the flimsy fabric, almost as if begging for his attention. He’s up, wrapping his arms around your waist and breathing in the scent of your hair. “Can I massage them?” 

You pause, and when you don’t respond for a few seconds, he cups one breast through the shirt, palming it softly until you melt under his touch. “O-Okay, but no sex,” 

He murmurs out a thank you, his golden eyes sparkling, and he’s glad you don’t question his enthusiasm. Once in the shared bedroom, he strips your shirt off your body watches with hooded eyes as you crawl over to join him at the centre of the bed. 

His fingers brush against a peaked nipple before slowly pushing down on the nub, and you let out a soft whine before cupping your other breast yourself, rotating the flesh in small circles. 

Bokuto briefly wonders how long it could take to make you cum just from your tits, and he turns it into a personal mission for tonight. He pulls at the free nipple, and you gasp sharply. Your reaction brings a lazy grin on his face, and he brings you to sit on top of him, the outline of his erection pressing against your ass so he can feel at least some sort of friction. He swats your hand away and pulls a nipple into the heat of his mouth, suckling the flesh softly as your thighs tremble around his waist. The first contact of his teeth against your sensitive nipple has your breath hitching deliciously as you chant his name, and he does it again, wanting to commit the sound to memory. 

“K-Koutarou, please. I’m going to-”

He switches to the other breast and bites down on the nipple without warning. Your hands fly to the back of his head, pushing him closer to your chest as he soothes the abused skin with long strokes of his tongue. The way you pull at his hair sends sharp jolts of pain, and you realise that each time you tug at his locks, he puts his teeth to work. 

You tug at his hair again, and he smiles as he bites down for a second. He takes satisfaction in the way you tremble and grind against him when he tugs at a hardened bud with his fingers, twisting and rolling the nub until it borders on pain and pleasure. He’s going to make you come like this even if he doesn’t get any sleep.  

Minutes later, you tremble, your hands feebly pushing at Bokuto, and he leans back only slightly. He watches with wide eyes as you roll your hips, the movements unstable and shaky, almost frenzied. Your fingers squeeze at a breast and pull at the tip of the other, and you let out a breathy moan at the sharp streak of pain that quickly turns into pleasure. “K-Kou-kun. I’m s-so close. So close.” You whine out in both pleasure and frustration and reach for his hands so he can help you finish the job. “Please,” 

You don’t notice the way Bokuto’s erection grows bigger from under you. He loves it when you beg for him like this, eyes glazed with lust without a care in the world except for how quickly you’ll come. It’s so intoxicating, and you look so desperate that he can’t help but want to tease you until you’re ruined.  But tonight, there was no way; you wouldn’t be getting any help from him until he gets off on the image of you sobbing for his fingers and his tongue. 

He watches as your eyes widen when you see him take out his cock and grip himself at the base. The tip is red and weeping, and when he smears the fluid all over the head, he’s delighted to see the way you lick your lips and lean forward, entranced. “What is it, puppy?” He purrs and grips himself at the base before moving up to the tip and coming back down again. The way your eyes follow the movement is incredibly sexy, but it’s the tremble in your lower lip that has him growing harder. “F-Fuck. Shit, you want my cock? I thought you said no sex.” 

There’s a whine of frustration, and at this point, he can’t tell if it’s from you or him, but the way you rub your thighs together and tug at your nipples has him lifting his hips, craving the friction he can’t have. There are now tears in your eyes as you sniffle.  For a fleeting moment, Bokuto considers sliding your underwear to the side; your period be damned, and fucking you into the mattress until the bedsheet is soaked with your tears. His cock twitches in agreement at the mental image, and a shudder goes down his spine. 

Instead, he gives himself a few more rough strokes and closes his eyes, listening to your moans echo in the room before he groans, loud and low, as his release lands messily on the bedsheets. 

Bokuto is restless at practice the morning after, and everyone knows this because his performance was downright terrible. On the rare occasions when he did score a point, there was no hey, hey, hey, no burst of confidence, no nothing. 

There had been days on end where the team would have done anything short of murder to shut Bokuto up, but now that he had, they had no idea what to do. Well, except Atsumu, of course. The setter sauntered over, his lips stretched into a cocky smirk. “Bokkun, what are ya mopin’ about for? Did yer girlfriend leave ya all needy?”

Bokuto grumbled sourly at the blonde before promptly turning away. “I’m not moping.” And when Atsumu raises an eyebrow, encouraging him to continue, Bokuto only sighs and leans back on his elbows. Surprisingly, that’s all the setter needs to understand the situation and begins to laugh. 

The entire situation is infuriatingly unfair, especially since it was, in fact, Atsumu who had drilled in the idea of having sex in semi-public places. Bokuto usually didn’t care to listen to the gossip of others much, unless it was related to volleyball or you. During the training camp, the blond setter had been describing how hot it was to do it in a semi-public place where there was a high chance of getting caught, much to Kiyoomi’s chagrin. Bokuto genuinely cannot bring himself to care because obviously sex feels good all the time, so why would doing it outside make it any different? Atsumu had just tutted when Bokuto explained this to him before asking him about you, and that definitely got his attention. 

“Bokkun, do ya know what kinks yer girlfriend has?” 

“She doesn’t have any,” Bokuto’s response had been immediate, and Atsumu just stared, wondering if the hyperactive male was just pulling his leg. But he wasn’t - Bokuto genuinely knew you didn’t have any because of course you would tell him as soon as you discovered one, right? 

“She seriously never told ya?” 

“Maybe she just doesn’t know.” 

Atsumu had spluttered indignantly to his excuse, equal parts horrified and insulted that Bokuto could even think about suggesting such a thing. 

Needless to say, ever since then, Bokuto has been trying to find out more of the things that make you tick in bed. He’d already found two last night, and his body was already tense, eager to find out more today. Especially since you said you’d be visiting after handing back all the papers to your students. They all wrapped up practice, with Meian giving Bokuto extra laps around the gym. By the time he had finished the required amount, Hinata and Meian were about to leave but had stopped to greet you for a few minutes. The sight of you leaning against the door, your lips pulled up into a soft smile filled him with restless energy and he took a swig of his water before making his way to you. 

“Hey, hey, hey!” His voice booms, echoing off the walls and you swivel around to grin at him. There is a collective sigh of relief from the other members as they leave the court gym and he sees the way your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He practically sprints to you and pulls you into a bear hug. He knows he’s sweating and that he probably stinks, but that all takes a back seat as your arms come around to wrap around his waist as you breathe in the feel of him. “Are you feeling better?”

You nod and lean up, puckering your lips to give him a short kiss, and his heart squeezes before he leans down to meet your lips halfway. When you pull back, your face is flushed, and you lean forward to whisper in his ear. “I’m sorry about last night. I’m all better today, we can go wherever you want and do whatever you feel like,”

His golden eyes glint dangerously under the low lighting of the hall, and you immediately know that you’re in trouble. “Now?”

He can see the way your breath hitches and throat constricts as you let out a little whimper. Your voice reaches a higher octave as you whisper out a “Now?” and he suddenly wishes that he could drag you to the locker room in front of everyone. He realises with a start that Atsumu had been right all along and expects the fact to rub him the wrong way, but the thought is pushed to the back as you let out a timid nod. 

That’s all he needs. He drags you into the locker room, too impatient to bother with the intricacies of the lock. Everyone had gone home anyway, so what did it even matter? As soon as he sits down, you push his thighs apart and situation yourself between them. Your hands fly to the hem of his gym shorts as you gaze up at him, and the whisper of friction that your fingers provide already has his cock swelling in his boxers. 

The first contact your tongue made with his cock has him hardening even further as he sinks his fingers into your hair. He can’t take his eyes off the way your hot tongue glides up the curve of his dick before swirling around the tip and- 

“Fuck. Fuck. Wait, baby-Don’t-”

You take him into your mouth, one hand softly massaging his balls, and all the protests die in his throat almost instantly. He chokes at the sight of you on your knees and your pretty, pretty mouth stretched around his fat cock. There are tears forming at the corner of your eyes as you struggle to take him in any further, and there’s nothing in the word that could make him look away. He thrusts his hips up only slightly, taking you off guard and forcing more of his length into your mouth as you gag around his size. 

You make a sound at the back of your throat as you drool around his cock, and it sends waves of vibrations throughout his length. Bokuto eases out of your mouth, and the stark coldness that hits the sensitive skin has him hardening even further. “You did so good, puppy,” he pants out his praise and comes up behind you before he pushes you forward so that you’re on your hands and knees. You’re such a pretty sight that he has to stop himself from entering you straight away. “Are you comfortable, babe? Think you can take it like this?” 

You nod vigorously and hold his gaze through the mirror. The head of his cock is leaking and angry, and he’s half tempted to bury himself balls deep inside you without warning. But the moment he pushes the tip inside your wet heat, you arch your back, and his hips jerked forward, craving the way your slick walls spammed around his length. 

“S-Shit—” Bokuto grits out, relishing the way the unmistakable sound of your arousal squelching around his cock echoes in the locker room. “God, you’re so fucking messy- baby, I can’t—” his words end on a whine and tries to push himself further inside you, his hands going to grip your hair to wrap it around his fingers. 

There’s a low guttural moan from you, and when he looks up, his gut clenches at the sight of your thoroughly fucked face. He wants to commit it all to memory - the way your tongue lolls out while your eyes roll to the back of your head as you cry out for him because he’s the only one who can make you feel like this. He pulls at your hair slightly and immediately feels you clench around him. 

He does it again, harder. 

Your whimpers thunder in his ears, and he leans forward until he has you completely underneath him, chest grazing the back of your shoulders as he braces his entire weight on his arm. His tongue and teeth are relentless on the flushed tips of your ear, laving the sensitive skin before nipping it harshly as he thrusts into you. “You’re such a pretty puppy, aren’t you? Fucked dumb and drooling on my cock,”

You sob at this, your words slurring. “K-Kou, s’close—” His thrusts become short and fast, reaching deeper as your walls dragging along his cock deliciously. The way you’re needy heat is sucking him in leaves him breathless, his hips stuttering with effort as he struggles to go faster and faster and— 

Your walls flutter around his girth, clenching down and squeezing so tightly that he can’t help but arch his back, hands gripping your hips to bring you closer, the curve of your ass flush against his abs. He ruts into you harshly, trying to fuck you through your orgasm, and it’s the loud slapping of skin on skin that mixes perfectly with your lewd keens that have his dick spasming and finally sends him over the edge. 

For a moment, all he can hear are the heavy breathing as you both try to catch your breaths, skin slick and glistening with sweat, but then his ears perk up at the telltale whisper of footsteps shuffling. Somewhere, right outside the door, a broomstick topples over something, and he swears he can hear the hushed bickering of Atsumu and Kiyoomi. 

Thank you for reading :) 

Taglist: @lukehemmingsfan101​ @the-actual-audrey @Dontmindme:) @potaytopothato @jadasz @momoraen​ (those in bold could not be tagged). 

Click here for my taglist. If you would like to stop being on my taglist, please just send me a message. 

[hanatiny]

Aim To Please

a/n: I’m aware that certain kinks in this may not sit well with some people, but I have a very specific target audience for this one so :) a/n 2: happy birthday to the stressed mom Seonghwa, hope he eats well and has a good day~ <3

pairing: incubus!Seonghwa x f!reader

genre: smut, fluff

word count: 1866

warnings: consensual somnophilia, unprotected sex, noona kink, pet names, Hwa has a gun kink, he's also a whiny service top, praise kink, marking (both biting and light scratching), brief mention of overstimulation, orgasm control

-----

Seonghwa had been visiting you somewhat regularly for a couple months now. He first came to you in a dream while you were feeling lonely and then another night, when you found yourself unable to sleep, he actually physically materialised in front of you.

Incubi were said to simply come to 'their human' for sex and that was that, they would leave once they got what they wanted.

Seonghwa, however, was a little different. He had a bit of a childlike curiosity to him, ironic as it seemed for an immortal demonic creature, and you adored the way his eyes would light up like shooting stars every time you'd talk to him and tell him about your day or simply recount a memory you happened to be fond of.

You grew attached to each other rather quickly and easily, a strong emotional bond forming between the two of you that one wouldn't necessarily think possible.

And so, when he arrived this particular night, he couldn’t help but pout a little when he found you fast asleep in your bed. Then again he couldn’t really blame you, it was sometime between 2 and 3am after all. In all honestly, he was relieved to see you get some rest, knowing how you struggled at times.

He visited you for a different reason tonight though; it was his creation day - or birthday, a word he learned from you that meant essentially the same thing in human terms, which he used interchangeably.

He wanted to celebrate it with you and to do so, he’d either have to wait until you'd awaken on your own accord, or wake you up himself. He technically wanted to do neither but he was an incubus, so he did the one thing that he knew how to do.

Hesitating for a beat, then, Seonghwa's face blossomed a cherry red when he recalled how you had previously informed in a conversation that he had been given explicit permission to have his way with you whenever he pleased.

Feeling the mattress dip beneath his weight, he carefully maneuvered himself onto the mattress to hover above you. Seonghwa, careful and gentle as ever, balanced himself on one hand while lifting the other to brush a few strands of hair out of your face.

Your expression was peaceful as you slept, head tilted slightly to the side, and he couldn't help but coo softly at the sight while he briefly lost himself in his own thoughts.

How would he ever tell you that he had fallen in love with you, someone belonging in a different world...? He had yet to figure it out.

He shook his emotional dilemma off in favor of trailing his lips down from your jaw over your neck and collarbone with slow, deliberate kisses. You stirred slightly with a soft hum, remaining asleep.

Seonghwa’s soft lips attached themselves to your skin to gently suck a marking near your shoulder. Once satisfied, he pulled back and his hands went to free your sleeping form from the blanket it was covered with.

He froze in his tracks for a brief moment, not having expected you to be dressed exclusively in an oversized t-shirt. He bit his lip and toyed with the hem of the piece of fabric that still covered your body before pushing it up to under your breasts for easier access to where he wanted to be.

His hands established a gentle but firm grip on your thighs and parted them for him while he nipped all over the skin of your stomach, trying to distract himself and not turn bright red once more from the realization of your lack of underwear.

Like the gentle man he was, Seonghwa glided his fingertips over your inner thighs with featherlight touches and if it wasn’t for the airy giggle you let out, having known you were rather ticklish, he would have thought you couldn’t feel him at all.

You leaned into his touch slightly out of instinct when his fingers ghosted over your slit to see if you were wet enough to take him -  he knew it could be painfully if either party isn’t aroused to a more than sufficient level. But, to his relief, you were practically dripping, which led him to believe you may have been having a wet dream. Little did he know, you had been in a limbo between asleep and awake ever since his hands first came into contact with your heated skin.

Seonghwa was way too focused on his task to notice your state of half-consciousness, and he didn’t even connect the dots when you mewled out loud after he had discarded his pants and gradually pushed his length into your entrance.

Once he bottomed out, he whined softly as he began to rock his hips into you and it surprised you time and time how gentle he’d start off with you - as if you were a porcelain doll and he was afraid of breaking you - and that you’d always, without fail, remind him that he didn’t have to be, that you could take it.

There was a tenderness in his actions that you couldn’t quite place. You refused to believe that the root of it was love.

It was when his voice went high-pitched with a shaky “N-noona..~” that your eyes flew open, thankful for his lack of focus on you while he moaned softly, your hand blindly fumbling for something under the pillow next to you.

Your fingers finally took hold of and wrapped around the cold metal item, pulling it out from where you hid it until mere seconds ago, and Seonghwa’s hips stuttered slightly when he heard a familiar soft click, but he only snapped his gaze back forward to look at you wide-eyed as he felt a gun barrel pressed to the side of his head.

“Noona, I-”

“Hush, sugar. You’ll be good and listen to every word I say, yeah~?” You smirked up at him as he nodded and let out a desperate whine of affirmation.

It was a peculiar kink of him to have to want to call you noona, you mused, considering that he was a century old creature and you physically would not be able to top that as a human being. But you figured that it wouldn’t hurt to indulge him, considering that no one in his past seemed to have done so based on his delight when you complied and agreed.

Whimpers from the man above you pulled you back into the present reality as you watched him struggle to keep up a rhythm with the gun pressed to his head. You cooed at how good of a job he was doing regardless, “Such a good boy, fucking noona good just how he knows she likes it...~”

Seonghwa cried out, his face flushed because of how he submissive he acted, contrary to how he usually at least tried to appear to be.

“Mhm, my pretty babyboy figured he could use my body for his own pleasure, similar to how the rest of his kind does hm~? It’s cute, really.” You purred, unable to stop a moan from slipping from your lips while your grip on the loaded gun tightened slighly, although you made sure to keep your fingers away from the trigger just in case.

“You make noona feel so good, sugar, just like you’re meant to...~” You smiled up at Seonghwa with a so obviously deceiving sweetness that made his pouty lips tremble slightly, a few strands of his messy hair sticking to his slightly sweaty forehead.

You knew the telltale signs of when he was about to cum, your first trist with the demon having been what felt like years ago although it only lied back a few months.

“I-I... Noona, ‘m already close...~” He panted softly above you, causing you to coo as he twitched inside of you, a smile tugging at you lips.

“Mhm I can tell, baby~ You can hold it in for a little longer for noona, no?” Your voice carried a lilt as you hummed and it unsettled Seonghwa that he couldn’t quite place it, but he nodded eagerly nonetheless, not willing to even so much as risk disappointing you.

“Y-yeah!” He gasped softly when you suddenly wrapped your legs around his waist to pull him even deeper inside of you, your back arching as you did so, “Good boy...~ Oh fuck, right there-”

You hissed lowly under your breath, having unintentionally pushed the tip of your lover’s cock right into the spot that would make you come undone. Seonghwa whined loudly and desperately above you as he continued his almost frenzied thrusts into your heat, his head thrown back and his body on the verge of overstimulation when you found your climax around his length.

It was convenient for him to be so well-endowed, you mused, since he was able to hit the most pleasurable spots deep inside of you with ease.

“P-please noona, I-I can’t-”

“Cum, Seonghwa.”

And just like that, with two simple words, he let go and released himself inside of you, a soft moan drifting from you at the feeling of warmth spreading through your body.

Seonghwa panted softly as he slowly came down from his high, reaching to caress your cheek as if in a trance while you dropped the hand holding the gun onto a pillow next to the two of you before letting go of the item entirely.

Having caught your breath, you nudged him to roll over, which he willingly did after carefully pulling out of you.

You turned to face him, tenderly threading a hand through his hair as he pouted at you.

“Y/n-”

“Shh, I know Hwa. I should get cleaned up... but I’m too tired, so I’ll just shower in the morning.” You smiled reassuringly, to which he relaxed as well and wordlessly wrapped his arm around you to pull you close and cuddle you.

“Happy birthday...~” You murmured before drifting off, leading Seonghwa to coo softly at you in endearment as he held you close to himself protectively.

You were truly the only gift he could ever want and need.

When you woke up the next morning, it was in an entirely different position than the one you fell asleep in. Shifting in your bed, you realized that your supernatural companion had cleaned both himself and you in the night before making sure to dress you appropriately so you wouldn’t be cold.

You found your gun on the nightstand next to you a few moments after, along with a small note Seonghwa must’ve written in a hurry if the handwriting on it was anything to go by.

‘Thought I’d allow myself to clean you up so you could stay under your comfy blankets a little longer. Hope you don’t mind :)’

There were a few hearts scribbled all over the piece of paper, and your head fell back against your pillow with a knowing smile and a happy sigh.

You were glad the incubus seemed to reciprocate your feelings, and you’d be sure to tell him so when he would return.

“I love you too, Hwa.”

----- Taglist:

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[kiame-sama]

🥀Beauty and The Beast (Yandere!Uvogin x Reader)(Lemon)🥀

Feast, my Lovies~! Feast! @ramwrites @luesi @prettycutebunny @cherry-witcher

Warnings; Lemon ahead, dirty talk, yandere behavior, yandere tendencies, yandere relationship, Uvogin is hung like a horse, cute moments, animalistic behavior, Oral, pillow theft, and the agreed upon comfiest position to be fucked.

You lay in your quiet room on the large bed you often shared with your lover. He was absent at the moment, meaning you had the whole bed to yourself. Of course, that also meant you didn't have your large heater and comfortable bear hug either.

Even with the giant bed all to yourself, it felt more empty than usual as you found yourself cuddling into your lover's pillow. His masculine and overwhelming scent covered his side of the bed and it soothed you to have that bit of familiarity. Wrapping your arms and legs around the pillow that you held firmly in your grasp, you were content to sleep.

A sudden flash of light drew you from your deep slumber, making you sleepily respond in a whine of confusion. Blearily blinking open your eyes, you yelped with a sudden shot of fear as you saw the looming shape standing over you. The deep and familiar chuckle gave you pause as you focused on the dark visage more intensely, seeing the familiar grin of your lover.

"Uvo, don't scare me like that!"

"Sorry, Princess. You were way too cute and innocent to not take a picture for later."

A red blush enflamed your face as he turned the screen of his phone to show you the photo he had taken. You were clinging to the pillow much like a koala would, cheek pressed firmly against the soft bedding. Your face was peaceful and it looked like he had been holding the blanket up to get a good shot of your whole body.

"You're cute as hell when you sleep, you know that? So adorable and soft squished up on the pillow."

The large man was still grinning as you pouted, knowing he was going to tease you relentlessly about it. Taking the pillow with you, you slid over to your side of the bed so Uvogin could sit down and join you. After a moment of hearing clothes shuffling and dropping, you felt the large man lay on the bed next to you.

"That's my pillow, you thief."

"Mine now."

"Oh, really? What would it take to get it back, Princess?"

"Hmm... A back rub?"

You didn't miss the gleam of mischief in his eyes in response to your suggestion. Usually, it didn't take long for you and Uvogin to wind up messing around when he got back from his 'business trips' far away from home. The man was near impossible to resist and the problem was that he knew it too.

You always enjoyed his return even if it usually leaves you bed-bound due to the intense nature of the reconnecting session of love-making. He said it was business trips he was going on every time he disappeared, but you knew him better than that. Uvogin was not the kind of man to settle for some pencil-pushing job or a completely domestic lifestyle.

As far as you figured, it was likely something to do with a gang or crime organization given just how often Uvo returned with new marks om his sun-kissed skin. You knew better than to ask, so you just left it at that, content to be in the dark regarding what it was exactly that Uvo did. Any benefit that may come from knowing the truth was completely overshadowed by the risk.

When you turned over to lay in a more comfortable position, Uvogin was already on top of you. His large hands pressed in the best spots with just enough force that you almost moaned in delight. His hands were rough to the touch but he was still wonderfully gentle on your sore flesh.

You couldn't stop the desperate mewl that left your lips when he pressed on a particularly stubborn knot. The whining moan made Uvogin chuckle, knowing you were aching for attention after a few days given how much he usually gave you.

"Already? You gonna cum just from my hands, Princess?"

His low voice was a husky rumble in his throat against your body, feeling something large and warm slowly sliding up and down your back. He gripped your shoulder, moving you onto your back underneath him. He only gained more confidence than he already had now that he could see your burning blush and pleasured expression.

No doubt, it was intimidating being underneath the large man, especially given the heavy cock laying between your breasts. His large hands came up to cup your breasts and press them together around his straining length. It was clear he was starting to get lost in his own haze of pleasure, licking his lips.

"I know you can't take all of me into that little throat of yours just yet, but you can take the tip just fine."

He watched you hungrily as you leaned your head towards the bulbous tip, taking the head of his large cock into your mouth. The moan that ripped through his lips was only made more pronounce by the sharp buck of his hips, forcing more of his length into your mouth. The combination of the friction from your soft breasts with the wetness of your warm mouth was enough to make precum start leaking from the hot cock in your mouth.

"Mmm... Fuck. Just keep looking up at me, (y/n). I'm gonna show you who you belong to..!"

You could only whine and hum around the head of that large cock as he thrust his hips against your soft breasts. He let out loud unabashed moans, gritting his teeth as he stared down into your lightly watering eyes. A grin pulled at his lips when your hands came to rest on his hips, your nails biting down into his flesh but barely noticeable to him as he pounded away.

"Ngh..! Gonna cum in your throat-! Fuck..! Have you ride my face so I can eat as much of you as I want..! Fucking starving..."

You rubbed your legs together for some kind of friction as you tried to breathe between each rough thrust. You were more than a bit hot and bothered given the appeal of the large man riding your chest. It almost seemed like you could feel his heartbeat through the shaft of his cock deep in your chest, leaving you breathless.

You knew he was close to cumming when you felt his thighs tense, putting pressure against your ribs. His pace slightly faltered as he let out a deep moan, thrusting as far forward as he could and shooting his hot seed into your throat. He was only slightly panting at that point, already mostly recovered from his orgasm and ready for another.

You gasped deeply as he pulled away from your chest and out of your mouth, giving you a moment to rest. Uvogin let out a pleased hum of satisfaction, as if he had been pent up and waiting for that moment of release to be able to relax.

"Come on, Princess, I know you have more than that in you. Up. I want my dinner."

You yelped when he lifted you up and set you so you were kneeling on the bed, clearly not wanting to wait any longer for you. You shivered slightly from the sudden cold on your back instead of warm blankets, but even that didn't matter once Uvogin lay back with his head between your thighs. That's the thing about Uvogin; if he says he's starving, he's gonna eat like he's starving.

"A-ah, Uvo~!"

You yelped and squeaked with pleasure, as each tongue stroke was stronger than the last. A wet noise met your ears, paired with the slurps and moans of bliss from the large man beneath you. There was no question to if Uvogin was enjoying himself, his desperate grip on your thighs and the way he pulled you down to smother him was enough. His deep moans only made sinfully delicious vibrations hum through your body, feeling every time he sucked your clit into his mouth.

You had reached the point of gasping and panting breathlessly, your voice already up several octaves. The constant pleasure shooting through your body quickly began to feel like it was too much, frying your already abused nerves. No matter how you tried to pull away for a moment of rest, those large and heavy hands held you securely in place.

You felt your entire body tense up as the electrifying pleasure suddenly broke loose, scrambling your nerves. You reached a much higher pitch as you cried out in bliss, needing something to channel your energy into. After you nearly screamed your voice out, Uvogin let you pull your overstimulated and pulsing pussy away so you could have a moment to recover.

"Mmm~ Best damn meal I've had in days..."

You were still shivering and gasping lightly as the large man grinned, licking his lips much like a predator would after a feast. He sat up slowly, clearly getting hard again when he saw your blushing and flustered form, curled up by the pillows.

He moved up the bed slowly, gripping your soft hips and pulling you towards him with that grin that meant trouble. You were about to let out a breathless complaint before you found yourself on your knees, chest resting comfortably against the bed with your hips raised up. Probably Uvogin's favorite way to take you, and likely one of the most comfortable ways to take him.

He had stamina that far outclassed your own and it took some time to fully satisfy the beast of a man. Being able to lay on the bed and just let him go wild on you was always good, and the fact he could fully get himself inside of you due to the angle was an added bonus. It also made it easier and safer for you to just bliss out as he jackhammered into you for hours on end.

"Ready for more, Princess?"

"Ple-please, Uvo..."

"Please, what? Tell me what you want."

"Just fuck me senseless, Uvogin! I need you in me right now!"

"So demanding."

Despite his teasing, he positioned himself behind you, slightly raising your hips given how tall he was. You gripped tightly at the sheets, feeling his large length slide into you inch by inch. As desperate as you were for him to just fuck your brains out, you appreciated the slow way he eased into you.

He was NOT a small man and his cock was just like him; big, thick, and intimidating.

Once he was fully seated inside of you, you mewled pathetically, wanting him to start moving. He let out a low hum of amusement as he watched you squirm, trying to move your hips enough to get some of that delicious friction. With a relaxed pace, he slowly pulled out of you until he nearly completely left you before slamming back in.

"You're so damn spoiled. You know that?"

"Ah~ Yes, Uvo~!"

"Good girl."

His pace remained that torturous slow rhythm for longer than you wanted, a long whine escaping your lips. You couldn't see his face, but you knew he had that wide grin of his. Each slow drag of his large cock inside of you making you jerk with pleasure.

Just as you opened your mouth to whimper at him to go faster, he suddenly increased his tempo and he began to pound into you. You felt your legs give an involuntary jerk with every increasingly paced thrust, his large cock rubbing up against every sweet spot you had. He knew your body like his own, and you fit beautifully around him.

"(Y/n)..! So good! Your little pussy is so damn good! All mine... No one else gets to fuck your tight cunt, only me."

"Only you!"

"My spoiled little Princess..."

Each of his heavy thrusts into you made you moan out in pleasure, relaxing in his grip and allowing him to move your hips as he pleased. It was just as well, you felt boneless already in his grasp so you truly doubted you could do much other than lay back. Like a winding pressure in your body, you felt your orgasm creeping up with alarming speed.

The increased tightening around his cock made it clear to Uvogin just how close you were. He adjusted his grip to press his hand against your lower stomach, feeling the moving bulge of his cock inside of you. The pressure his warm hand put on your body made his constant thrusting feel even more intense to your heightened senses. You were gasping for each breath now as your eyes involuntarily rolled back.

You managed to get enough of a breath in before the growing pleasure snaps, washing over you in waves of bliss as you cry your little heart out in ecstasy. Every following movement making your entire body jerk as you rode out your orgasm with Uvogin pounding relentlessly into you. You got your only reprieve when he tensed up, growling out a long and baritone moan as each pulse of his cum painted your soft insides.

Just as he had before, he quickly recovered from his orgasm while you were still floundering in pleasure. His grin was downright feral as he gave little bucks of his hips, watching your cute reactions.

"Try and save that sweet voice of yours, you're in for a long night."

As he began to move with full strokes once more, you were content to lose yourself to the bliss that returned in full force. Some part of you felt badly for your neighbors, but you honestly couldn't find it in you to care. Uvogin's deep moans and grunts of pleasure mixed rather wonderfully with your own lighter and breathier mewls, knowing he would make damn good on his words.

Well, looks like you won't be walking any time soon.

[stardancerluv]

Is There Love When Dating the King of Gotham?

Part One of Two

Summary: Roman’s been away and you realize what you need from him.

Note/Warning: small consensual sex scene, marking.

“Welcome Home, Romy!” You were tickled with delight. Roman had been gone for almost two weeks but now he was home. You had missed him terribly.

To pick him up at the airport, you had worn a lovely dress and had your hair and nails done. You even wore a necklace he bought you, that made you nervous, to be fair that necklace was worth more than what your business pulled for two years.

When he gave it to you, you had promised him you’d wear it on special occasions for him. So today with how much you missed him, you decided to wear it.

The rolls dipped and bumped its way across Gotham. He slipped his sunglasses off and sat looking you over. You could practically feel his eyes, that were as turbulent as an ocean, moving over you. “Baby,” He rasped, a smile spread across his face. “You’re so beautiful. Now, come here.” He beckoned to you.

Easily, you slid over to him. You shivered as you felt his hands on you. The smooth leather, the warmth of his hands just under the surface.

When your lips met you could taste one of his favorite scotches. He must have enjoyed it on the flight home.

Minutes later, barely able to part you managed to make it to the elevator to get up to the penthouse. Your clothes had become a serious annoyance and the kisses made your heart race.

******

“I love you.” You breathed. You arched against him as you came hard. Sweat dripped between the two of you. Barely able to focus, you clung onto him as he rolled and moved so he was above you. The sight of his hair hanging in his face and the sounds that poured from his lips was enough to get you excited all over again.

His lips pulled at your throat, as he sucked and nibbled against it. Scarves would be essential for the next few days, but you didn’t care. Part of you always found his marks delicious, they made your heart skip when you’d eye them later in the mirror.

“Y/N,” was a moan as it poured from his mouth, his breath hot as you felt him cum hard, deep within you. He rested his forehead against your shoulder as he trembled. You ran a hand through his wet strands.

His eyes were hooded with pleasure when he met yours. You shared a tired smile. Finally, slowly he came to rest beside you with a sigh. He held out an arm and you cuddled to his side. His arm came back around and held you close. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

“Will you be running off later or will you be sitting with me at my table, my first night back after being away?”

You tilted your head so you could smile up at him. “You have me all night.”

“Good.”

You gently yawned. He had thoroughly tired you. You drifted off feeling his fingertips play absently with the necklace still on your throat.

*****

Stirring, you slowly let yourself wake up but then as you reached out and felt a cold bed, your dreamy state shattered. Your fingers felt a piece of paper and you snatched it.

Baby,

Headed down early.

Can’t wait to get my hands on you again.

See you at the table.

RBS

Annoyance crept over you and took ahold. “RBS.” You said in a snarky tone. You don’t know why then but suddenly it really irked you. Like you’d ever forget his name. Couldn’t he scrawl a heart, was it too much to write love Roman.

Just before he had left on his trip to solidify some business in Europe, it had hit you that he had never actually said I love you. You had. You knew in his own way he showed you that he did.

He had carved out a portion of his penthouse for you to have a studio. He made those men pay after kidnapping you. Now, you knew you were dealing with Roman Beauvais Sionis. He was incredibly feared in the underworld. He did not fuck around.

Until you, he was the only man in Gotham that came close to giving Bruce Wayne a run for his money when being seen as the richest or the handsomest bachelor in Gotham.

You also knew he had his share of heart ache, from past relationships and from his godawful family. A slap across the face was more of the norm than a slap on the back of encouragement. So you knew it had taken a lot for him to even be exclusive with you.

When you'd given him your unwavering loyalty and love, you had hoped for something. A little crumb. You knew he had missed you. This afternoon the intimacy had stolen your breath. But you still needed, wanted to hear the words. Even a little heart on the note would be a step in the right direction.

You swallowed back the tears the moment they filled your eyes. “You’re dating Roman. You should be happy someone like that even wanted to commit.” That night when you, Rebecca swished into the Black Mask, had swished in Rebecca had tried to catch his eye. But somehow, he liked your looks more.

With that as comfort, you pulled aside the blanket and got up. Shuffling past the end of the bed, you saw two very beautiful dresses. You stopped and gasped. Then you saw a little note.

Wear one for us tonight!

Saw these in a little boutique in Rome.

The scarves will be an amazing accent, work them like only you can.

RBS

This time reading the RBS, you rolled your eyes and your stomach churned. How had your throat ended up looking.

*****

You gasped, looking your reflection over. He certainly had been enthusiastic. You pressed your lips together. Delight filled you. A part of you enjoyed the sight of his marks besides the incredibly elegant necklace. But that was Roman’s effect on you. Something about it was sexy, but yes one of those scarves is going to be twirled around you.

******

Walking in, a smiled played on your lips. The place was buzzing. As you walked over to his table you stopped. You really should have slept longer or even taken longer with the scarf.

When your eyes landed on Roman, he had a wide smile across his face that made your heart squeeze. His arm was resting above the head of some girl who was looking up at him with sparkling eyes and a bright smile. He looked so relaxed, happy. Turning towards him she said something and you watched as he threw his head back and laughed.

You don’t know why, but all of a sudden you felt like some kind of kept puppy. The necklace suddenly felt heavy. As your thoughts began to swirl, you tugged at the scarf.

You went to the bar. On the side away from the patrons, you slid onto a stool.

The bartender looked bored. “Here you go, princess.” He slid your usual over to you.

You looked at him and swallowed the drink and attempted to swallow down your anger. “I’ll take another.”

He rose an eyebrow.

“I don’t want to ask again.”

He nodded and as he slid you the second one, you were nibbling on one of the cherries.

“One more.”

“Y/N.” You slightly jumped in your seat. As Victor then came around, you eyed him up and down from the corner of your eye.

“Roman is expecting you.”

“He seemed indisposed when I just saw him.” You rolled your eyes.

“Come to the table.”

It finally dawned on you, it was a bitch. That’s what they called female dogs. You felt like a kept bitch.

He had given you a collar, that let you know exactly what you were in the relationship. He wouldn’t want you straying, so he set up your studio to keep you within reach. And finally a good fucking here and there, to keep you loyal. It all came together.

“Y/N.”

“I heard you, Zsasz.” Carefully, you slid from the stool. Walking to the table, you now saw a sour expression splashed on his face. Yeah, he was so thrilled to have you sit with him after her and however many others. You couldn’t do this.

You undid the scarf. “Victor said you were ready for me?”

He looked up, his brow wrinkled as he sat there. You saw as he began to get up.

“Don’t unless you’re making rounds.”

His brows furrowed more.

“Here.” You dropped the scarf.

His eyes grew as he saw the marks. He held up the scarf. “Baby?”

“I... I...” You were at a loss of what to exactly say. “Never mind, Mr. Roman Beauvais Sionis.” So you turned and left.

You realized he had not followed you. You had not looked back, but you knew he wasn’t there.

Once upstairs, you went to his office. You unclasped the collar. As you did, tears finally filled and a few fell from your eyes.

Going to the bedroom, you slipped the dress off. Finding the dress you had worn earlier wrinkled and flat, you slipped it back on.

You managed to go down the hall to your studio. Opening the door, you flipped the light on. You pressed your lips together.

******

Roman sighed, as he disengaged his arm from Annie, he thinks that was her name. He managed to get his arm on top of the cushion.

“Listen, I will have you start off on Tuesdays and Wednesdays.”

She smiled up at him with the eyes that caught the light. They would look good on stage he hoped. “But Mr. Sionis...”

“Roman, dear.” Oh he hated to be referred to as Mr. Sionis. He resisted the urge to shiver, it reminded him too much of his father.

She smiled a little brighter. “Roman, but I want a Friday or a Saturday.” A small pout formed on her lips. “Do I have to sleep with you to get a Friday or a Saturday?”

He threw his head back and laughed. Then he grew serious. “Darling, you better learn this fast. I am committed to my girl. And if you are going to work here, you will respect her like you would respect me. If you don’t, I fire you.”

Her cutesy face dropped. “I understand.”

He gestured to Zsasz, he came right over. “Find Y/N.” Zsasz nodded.

He turned his attention to the girl. “Ok, our little chat is over. Need money for costumes, write up a budget and we can talk again.”

Roman finally relaxed once the girl shifted and finally slid out of the booth. He was eager to have you by his side. With his time away, he realized just how much he missed you.

He grimaced as he looked at all that was his. It pleased him. But damn, seeing you today when you were there waiting at the gate. The way you ran over and felt against him when you wrapped your arms around him. How had he gotten that lucky, he was a cold hearted bastard. He had no idea but he was grateful.

The scent of your perfume tickled his nose just before he heard your voice. “Victor said you were ready for me?” He watched as you undid the masterpiece you had managed to make with your scarf.

Looking up, confusion filled him. As he looked closer, just above that beautiful necklace he bought you, he could see the marks he left on your throat. He was amazed. He had certainly been swept away by his passions. Though the way the diamonds twinkled on your slim throat and his marks, his stomach churned. Easily he wanted you all over again. He started to get up to welcome you to his table; he did enjoy being a gentlemen towards you.

He watched as you made a dismissive gesture with one of your hands. “Don’t unless you’re making rounds.”

His grew more confused.

“Here.” You then dropped the scarf in front of him.

He grabbed it. “Baby?”

“I... I..." He was at a loss. Were you upset? Who had bothered you? He’d wring their neck. Were you upset because he told you to wear the scarf? He knew how you liked to look classy and there was a chance with his love marks others would say other things. You were at a loss of what to say exactly. “Never mind, Mr. Roman Beauvais Sionis.” Your voice had become clipped as he then watched you turn and walk away.

@spn-obsessed-dean @vintagemichelle91 @xxxeatyourh3artoutxxx @ewamode @zodiyack @angel98624 @frenchgirlinlondon @emyliabernstein @thepeachreads @nebulastarr @itsknife2meetu @omghappilyuniquebouquetlove @poe-kadot26 @babydoll97-blog1 @hazel-nuss @vcat55 @feelthemadnessinside @johallzy @foreverhockeytrash @frostypenguinoz @professionalclown @chogisss @shantellorraine @xxinvisiblexx @blondekel77 @saphic-stories @drarrylov3r @i-cant-hear-you16 @deadlymistress24 @yesqueenofthelight @generallj @thebeckyjolene @blackmasque @mrskenobi19

[thesmokingguns]

Wendy and The Lost Boys

CHAPTER FOUR

WARNINGS: Mentions of smoking and drinking, there is sexual content so please be 18+

Tommy was twirling his drumsticks backstage getting ready to go on stage for the Halloween show. They were playing with Ratt at the Solari Ballroom and were supposed to go on in five minutes. The band had all dressed up as vampires for the set. Tommy peaked out and saw the place was packed. He felt a hand on his shoulder turning to see Nikki smirking at him. They headed on stage cheers rising up. The amount of chicks that were filling the club in their little costumes. It was going to be a hell of an after party.

Nikki saw the bunny ears and smirked knowing exactly what that girl would be wearing. He watched the ears bob to the front of the crowd bouncing along to the music and missed a fucking note when he saw Sasha, tits pushed up and almost spilling out of the Playboy bunny suit she was wearing. She looked exactly like one of his dirty dreams but she was there in person. Her blue eyes landed on him and the way she smiled made him almost fall off the stage. How the fuck did she look so good? Was it because he wasn’t seeing her everyday anymore? He watched her singing along to the music, her blonde hair shaking to the beat. If she kept moving like that she was going to pour right out of her top. As much as Nikki wanted to see that he didn’t want anyone else to see it. He said a silent thank you when she seemed to notice and tugged that tighter than life outfit up the half inch it could go. She still was pouring out of that top land he couldn’t focus on the set at all watching her dance in front of him like that

When they finished up playing Nikki wanted to yank her out of the audience but she was headed to the bar, her bunny tail shaking along with her, before he could grab her. It was like everything he was thinking she was already one step ahead of. He quickly headed into the crowd, trying to avoid the crowds of girls that all seemed to want to talk to him. Sasha turned a glass of Jack Daniels in her hand that she handed to him. Nikki was surprised but thankful as he slammed the liquid back in two burning gulps.

“Do I look like a magazine cover?” She asked him with a teasing smile on her face as he set the empty glass along the bar, nodding to the bartender that he wanted a refill. His hand was on her hip pulling her closer to him so she could talk to her without anyone hearing their conversation. Her long eyelashes swooping to look down at his hand and back up into his green eyes nearly knocked Nikki on his ass. What was it about her tonight that was making him so crazy?

“Why do you have to be the biggest tease? Don’t you know hard it is already without you putting in any effort?” He asked her, he felt her hand on his cheek and knew she was going to take the cigarette behind his ear. She smirked as she plucked it from him, Sixx opened the lighter for her, moving back and breaking the contact he had on her. “I like your costume but you know I’m a Hustler guy. I’m all about full nudity.” He threw back the comment from a couple months ago, watching the way that she smirked up at him. Sasha leaned in her lips kissing his earlobe with each word she spoke.

“I’m a Hustler girl in bed. You can ask my boyfriend about it later.” Her voice was like velvet and razorblades as she delivered the burn to him. At the mention of her having a boyfriend Nikki frowned. She flicked her ashes turning back to look through the crowd.

“What are you talking about?” He was getting angry with her comment. She didn’t respond to him, only finished her drink, taking a drag of the cigarette she had stolen from him. Nikki was getting riled up way earlier in the night than she had expected him to. “Do you hear me or am I talking to-“ he stopped talking when this blonde guy walked over wrapping Sasha up in his arms and giving her a kiss. And not her usual peck on the cheek she’d greet some of the guys with but she leaned into his arms kissing him deeper than Nikki wanted her to kiss anyone.

“Sugar Pie, I couldn’t find you during the show.” His hand stayed on her hip where the bassist had been holding a moment before. He wanted to know who this stranger was and why he thought he could walk up to Sasha like this. “Let me buy you a drink, sugar pie.” The guy didn’t even seem to notice Nikki standing there as he ordered her a drink handing it to the blonde girl with a smile on his face that the bassist was thinking about punching, “Are you going to say hello to your brother before we leave for the party?” Nikki was watching her face that she has masked in this perky smile despite her blue eyes being bored with this person.

“Yeah, Cherry Pie, why don’t you come backstage and say hello to Tommy.” Nikki butted in coming up with his own spin on the nickname the man had been using for her. She gave Nikki a pointed look making his smirk just widen knowing that the nickname had done it’s damage. The guy, who she had obviously come with, turned looking at the bassist like he was just realizing that he was standing there.

“OH! You just played.” He said nodding his head like he was understanding who he was standing with now, “Not my favorite music but you guys are a good club band. I could see you doing some of the Top 40’s with your chick singer. She was great.” The guy tucked a hand in his khakis before wrapping his arm around Sasha who had the biggest shit eating grin on her face as Nikki fumed at what the prick had just said to him. Be should punch that fucking asshole right in his mouth. They were already walking away, her little bunny tail shaking with each step she took. She turned to look at him over her shoulder and mouthed ‘club band’ before making herself laugh so hard she leaned against the blonde man.

Sasha was sitting backstage, perched on the side of the couch, her legs draped effortlessly between the college preps legs. His name was Len, short for Leonard which was the stupidest name Nikki should think of. Nikki couldn’t stop looking at the dumb bunny tail that would shake when she laughed. It had been two months of college for Sasha and he could see the way that she was changing. Nikki wasn’t sure that he liked seeing all the changes.

“Sugar Pie, we should get going now. The party has already started and I still need to pick up the keg for the house.” She looked down at the man on the couch who was staring up at her like a lost puppy dog.

“Why don’t you head over there, Len? It’s Friday night and I haven’t had any time to spend with my brother. I’ll take a taxi over later.” She didn’t really give him any room to argue as she moved her legs for him to stand up. The boy was flustered but tilted her head back letting him kiss her. The way her cherry lips attached to his, turning his mouth the same color as her lipstick had the boy flustered when he pulled away. Nikki watched her swipe her lip over her top lip and the guy swallowed. That fucking guy couldn’t handle her. He left shaken and the smile on her face was bright. With him gone the first thing Nikki did was slide across the couch so he took the man's spot.

“You’re not really dating him, right?” Vince asked, squeezing the bunny tail as he passed with a look of pure delight on his face at her costume, “That’s a real playmate costume.” She rolled her eyes at the lead singer. Leave it to Vince to be able to tell just from squeezing her tail that she was in the actual Playboy suit.

“He’s in the Frat that my sorority is close to. We’ve been out a lot together.” She shrugged her shoulders, her feet slipped between Nikki’s legs, one of her ankles resting on his left knee. He sat back, his hand sliding to rest on her ankle. He did it casually so it didn’t look like he was freaking out like he was inside. Fucking Sasha and her easy going nature were throwing the bassist off so much tonight he felt like he was in a fog, “And I got a job as a waitress at the Playboy club which is why I’m in uniform. So I have a favor to ask you.” She plucked the cigarette out of Nikki’s mouth that he had just lit to keep his mind off whatever game she was playing. “I work late a few nights and I don’t want to have to go back up to school so can I crash on the couch a couple nights a week?” She looked at Tommy who was already jumping up picking her up and spinning her around. The energy the drummer had at all times was absolutely insane. He woke up going 100 miles an hour like he was now.

“HELL FUCKING YEAH! You’re going to be back on the Strip with us!” He set her down watching the way she smiled at him, she had called a few nights from school and she wasn’t sleeping. He was sure she took the job in hopes of getting a couple hours of sleep a night, “I can walk you back too. That way you’re not out late by yourself because mom would kill me.” Sasha looked past Tommy to where Nikki was sitting on the couch watching her.

“Good. Can I sleep over tonight?” Her eyes didn’t leave Nikki’s and he looked away grabbing the bottle of Jack off the table. Something was almost aggressive about her tonight and Nikki needed to make sure he stayed ahead of whatever was going on. Which was going to be very hard because she was literally dressed like his fantasy.

“Of course!” Tommy didn’t seem to see the exchange between her and the bassist. Or if he did he knew better than to comment on it.

“Won’t your boyfriend get mad about you not going to the Frat party?��� Nikki asked from the couch, he was grumpy like Mick usually was, and she knew it was because of her. Sasha smirked knowing her plan of making him jealous was working.

“I said we went out a few times. So he’s not really my boyfriend. Are you guys going out or back to the apartment for an after party?” She turned to Tommy as she swatted Vince’s hands away from her bunny tail he was trying to squeeze again. “Down, boy.” She teased giving the singer a look that made Nikki stand up.

“Apartment. Let’s go.” His hand was on her upper arm already dragging her out. He tried to put his leather jacket over her shoulders to cover her but she kept shrugging it off. “It’s cold.” He commented as a car drove past catcalling and whistling. When she blew them a kiss he turned to give Tommy a look for some support but the drummer was just laughing.

“Stop walking so fast.” She complained, pulling her arm out of Nikki’s and falling back a few paces. Vince squeezed the tail again. “Stop.” She smacked his hands away watching him smirk at her as the boys all got ahead of her. They were all idiots, she decided watching the way Tommy ran with Vince through traffic to a group of girls across the street. They were probably going to spread word about a party that was BYOB so they wouldn’t have to buy anything.

Sasha’s high heels clicked against the concrete as she walked and she shivered wishing she hadn’t been trying to make Nikki jealous of people looking at her. She could use his coat now that they had been walking for a few minutes. She looked up seeing the bassist waiting for her on the corner. Sasha reached out her hand smirking when he laced their fingers together and turned into the street. Nikki had slowed his pace, realizing she was teetering in the high heels. She leaned into him, her skin cold.

“You’re really working at the Playboy club?” He asked as they headed up the stairs. The way her hips swung side to side he could see why Vince had a hard time keeping his hands off her bunny tail. Sasha nodded her head, moving to the window that was open about an inch. She was glad that they had made it back to the apartment first. She wanted to sit down without hearing a thousand people talking over each other. “Aren’t you worried about what people might think?” He asked as she stepped inside. Sasha looked up at him, confused.

“What would anyone think of me being a waitress?” She asked him. Nikki didn’t want to say it was him that was worried. All the men that went to those clubs and her in that little costume of hers, spilling out so that eyes didn’t want to leave her. She could see his eyes on her outfit and she nodded her head in understanding. “Well, I’m wearing more than what Tommy wears on stage and I’m making more money in tips than you probably made for the show tonight.” He didn’t mean to offend her but there was this annoyance in her voice.

“I have vodka!” They both turned to see Tommy coming in the window, followed by a group of people all trying to push their way through. “Take shots with me.” He was pulling her into the kitchen, both of them laughing like little kids.

Nikki watched her all night only losing sight of her when his head was down to snort a line. She had been practically glued to Tommy’s side. They called him and the drummer the terror twins but the way that Sasha and T-Bone were together was even worse. They took turns pouring vodka down each other’s throats like water, they had set fire to the carpet when she pointed out a cockroach, and she was this wingwoman for him having girls feel comfortable around him so he could pull three girls at a time in his room- which he was sneaking away to do now. But as soon as Tommy left her she was swarmed by guys and he could see she fucking loved it.

He watched the way she would pull a cigarette from her pack and how they would light it for her. This party trick never ceases to make her laugh. At one point she was looking for a place to sit and someone had lifted her up setting her on the counter. Nikki had almost dove across the room when he put his hands on her. But he knew better. He was going to keep his distance because there was no way she was going to do something bad. He was able to contain it until some fucking guy leaned in whispering in her ear. He could see the pink blush sliding over her cheeks and only could imagine what he was saying. She wrapped her arms around the man's neck letting him lift her down from the counter and letting him lead her to his fucking room. Nikki was to them before they even had a chance to turn the doorknob.

“Get the fuck out.” He warned the guy. The man turned stunned to see Nikki standing there but the bassist wasn’t in the mood, “In the room, Angel.” he told the girl watching as she pulled away from the man and opened the door to Nikki’s room.

“I know her from school-”

“I’m not going to ask you again to get out of my apartment. If I need to make you leave it’s going to be a real problem for you.” Nikki warned. He could see the kid calculating the words being spoken to him. In the end the kid left and Nikki opened the door to his room.

Sasha didn’t bother to turn to look at him. She had her back to him, her hands tracing over his bureau. She had kicked off her shoes leaving them in the middle of the floor for Nikki to trip on when he woke up in the morning. Sasha had been around Nikki enough to know when he was angry and she had been pushing all of his buttons tonight. The sound of his door locking and the soft scraping of his chair against the rug to go under the handle made her heart catch in her throat. She could feel him behind her, close enough that the warmth of his body was radiating against her. His hands were on her leg sliding up the tights, chuckling deeply as he flicked the bunny tail, her hands still moved up, over the curve of her hips to the small of her waist where he squeezed as if realizing for the first time how slim she was, before moving up again.

Nikki wanted her. All the teasing and flirting with other men. Seeing her parading around in the bunny costume, kissing boys, the hands of men reaching out to get a touch of her had been driving him crazy. Then she had the audacity to try and take another man into his room. It was too much for him to take. He tugged down the zipper, without a word, letting the tight costume come loose from her body. She didn’t say anything, just stepped out of the outfit, watching as he reached out her to lay it flat on his bureau.

Sasha licked her lips, his hands were moving to her tights and panties that he rolled off herin one careful motion, laying them on top of her costume. The fluttering feeling was in her stomach and she could feel this weight between her legs of warmth as she thought about what was going to come next. Nikki turned her around, his eyes taking in the fully naked girl in front of him. Her tits perky with pink nipples already pointed, just begging for his mouth to suckle them. He wanted to leave purple hickeys all over her, marking every inch of Sasha as off limits to anyone but him. She was watching him take her in, her blue eyes curious as to what he was going to do with her now that he had her naked.

“I didn’t like you bringing a boyfriend to a show.” he told her, watching the way she rolled her eyes at him, “It’s not funny, angel. I’m not laughing. I’m not smiling. It’s not a fucking game.” he didn’t like how she was just looking at him smiling. Sasha reached out, her fingers stroking his cheek, her simile widening as NIkki’s eyes closed and he pressed his face into her hand. He was getting right to where she had wanted him to be.

“It has to be a game with you, Nikki. You don’t want to date me because you refuse to be serious with anyone. So it’s like a game of cat and mouse.” her nails scratched at his face softly, “Gotcha.” she whispered, making his green eyes flash open. He had played right into her hands. She had done everything to make him jealous and make it to this moment in time. Now that she was naked in front of him, the emotions rising all night what was he supposed to do.

“No one is going to win this game.” he warned her as she wrapped her arms around his neck. She was going to end up hurt and Nikki liked her too much for that to happen. Sasha shrugged her shoulders slightly.

“Why don’t you just kiss me, Sixx? Instead of reading off your warning label. I don’t want anything other than you to kiss me right now. It doesn’t have to be anymore than that.” she was lying to him and they both knew it. They both could see how they wanted each other, all of each other in that selfish way like kids who couldn’t share toys. NIkki had proved tonight that he didn't want her around anyone else. But she was giving herself to him and he was going to take it.

His hands slid to her ass lifting her up easily, letting her wrap herself around him. If she wanted to play with fire he was going to make her burn. As soon as he pressed his lips to hers in the desperate hungry kiss he felt like he was falling. It was like the first time he did drugs. The overwhelming comfort of something to get lost in. She surprised him with the wetness of her tongue exploring his mouth before he could slide his into hers. She kissed just as desperately as he felt. The feeling of her tongue round his, his teeth biting her bottom lip, pulling it closer into the kiss. How could he only have just a kiss? He pressed her against the bed, feeling her hands pulling at his clothes. Sasha didn't want anything between them. She wanted to feel Nikki against her, all of him without a barrier.

“Just the shirt.” he begged her as she went to untie his leather pants, “Just the shirt, angel. If I’m naked I won’t be able to control myself.” his mouth was trying to find hers again but she pulled away, the way she looked at him. Those blue eyes lustful and shining like stars, her lips pouting accented only from the fact he had been roughly kissing her, he was fucking screwed. He would have done anything she wanted at that point.

“Nikki, please, I just want to see all of you. I want to touch every part of you. Please, Nikki.” The way she said his name and how polite she was. He didn’t even realize he was untying his pants until they were bunched up around his ankles. “Oh my god.” It was worth it for that reaction from her. She gave him a shy blush then and he knew he needed to control himself. Sasha made room for him to come back onto the bed, her legs moving to weave with his as they continued kissing, like sloppy teenagers. His hands went to her breasts, the hiss she released, as he tugged at her nipples. She was so sensitive, bucking against him.

“You like this, angel?” he asked his thumb and pointer finger rolling her nipples, tugging at them and getting the soft throaty moans to come from her. Nikki used this opportunity to kiss along her throat. He wanted to leave little marks for that piece of shit college boy to find later. He wanted to see her tomorrow putting cover up on the marks or tying a scarf. He felt so possessive over the girl who was very much not his. He had made it clear he didn’t date and she had made it clear she still wanted this. Sasha’s hand crept up between them gripping Nikki’s hardness in her smaller hands, moving up and down  as she kissed him. Wet mouths so hunger for each other and desperate to make the night they were having to last for as long as it could. “A little faster, like this.” he moved her hand up and down his length, watching the pink of her cheeks as he bucked against her motion, NIkki was trying to open up her thighs, he wanted to dip his fingers into her honey and lick up the sweet taste of her body. But she was managing to keep her legs together despite the ache between them wanting him. Her mouth was hungry for him and greedy as she took in his taste. It was like he was made of alcohol and sorrow; it was all she could taste on his tongue and she was in love with it.

“Oh fuck, Sixx.” Sasha whimpered feeling his mouth move down, a tongue licking over one of her hard nipples. Her hips pushed forward making her moan as she pressed into the solid thigh. She was stroking him like crazy now, a puddle in his arms as they laid in the bed beside each other. Nikki could feel her wetness against his thigh and pushed his leg against her hearing her moan loudly. Thin layers of sweat were on both their bodies now. His hand moved to her back and hip, helping her grind into his thigh, the wet pussy of hers throbbing against him as he helped her ride him.

“I’m going to cum, angel, but I want you to keep riding my thigh.” she nodded weakly moving her hips like he was directing her to do. This build up in her stomach happening like nothing she felt before. To overload her senses more Nikkie was kissing her again. He was rougher now, his teeth gnashing against hers like he couldn't get enough. Their bodies mixed up buckling together as Nikki spilled himself onto her stomach, the warmth of his cum causing a gasp from her as he smiled against her lips. She sounded so surprised but the way she pressed her hips down spoke volumes to him, “Keep going, good girl.” he cooed watching her. It happened suddenly like she wasn’t sure what the hell was going on but she came, open mouth and moaned from her lips his name.

When she opened her eyes, she was gasping for breath and feeling like she was waking up from a dream. But he was there with her, tucking her blonde hair behind her ears, kissing the side of her mouth as if he knew she had just used up all her energy with him. She blushed looking at them both covered in each other.

“I would offer to go shower but there is a full party going on outside this room so all I can offer you is a tshirt to clean up with.” she nodded her head watching him get out of bed and pull a tshirt she had probably washed out of the drawer gently tossing it to her. He watched her clean up, this silence settling over them that he wasn’t sure how to break.

“We should probably try and get back to the party.” she was standing pulling on her underwear. It was obvious NIkki didn’t really know what to say or do, “I know you can’t do anything serious, Nikki, but I don’t want people thinking I’m just the chick you’re banging for the night. That’s just not who I am and it’s not who I want to be. But I’ll probably come back to sleep tonight if that’s cool.” she told him. “Maybe when you grow up, Peter Pan, I can be your Wendy.”  she teased reaching behind him to grab a t-shirt she could wear out to the party.

He let her leave the room, slightly baffled when she pulled out a beat up pair of Keds from under his be. She also stole a cigarette laughing as she waltzed out into the room of people like she had never left it. Only now he knew her differently. And she was covered in hickeys that were peeking out from where she tried to cover them with her hair. Nikki wished he wasn’t the way he was but part of him was grateful she knew that he wasn’t going to be serious about her. Even though he liked Sasha he didn’t want to disappoint her. It would save them both a lot of heartache if they just didn’t get together, he hoped; right now all he could think about was she would leave after the weekend and he didn’t know what happened at that college campus but it left his stomach turning. Nikki redressed not wanting to think about anything at the moment because for someone who usually knew what they wanted he had no fucking idea.

[angrylizardjacket]

dirtbags // 3: Charlotte

Summary: High school AU, 1985, Winter. The year’s off to a strange start as Charlotte and her friends find out that not only does Lola work at the new diner that opened up in town, but her dad owns it! Charlotte humbles Nikki in a very un-Charlotte manor, and Vince’s parents decide to host an English exchange student in an attempt to give him a good role model; instead, they get Razzle.

A/N: 8466 words. Do I care too much about this AU? Yes. as always, for my dears @misscharlottelee and @newyeareva ft. a softer world quotes

the city sometimes feels like a movie set. maybe this is the big scene. maybe i can be an extra at least.

Charlotte’s only a few practice hours away from being able to get her provisional license, and she berates her past self for not getting it sooner, especially not when her Winter Break has been kind of a shit-show and she’d rather tear off her own arms than ride in Tommy’s shitbox of a car with Vince Neil. 

Since his blowout house party, Vince had essentially been grounded for the rest of the school year, had his car privileges revoked, and the only people his parents apparently trusted him to hang around with outside of school, were Tommy, Charlotte, Eileen, and Peach. Tommy was delighted. The girls, unsurprisingly, were not. Vince himself was downright somber, and had sulked for the remainder of the semester, and well into the break.

He had been in a particularly sour mood since last night, New Year’s Eve, when his parents had announced they were going to be hosting an exchange student from England for six months. Vince is convinced it’s an attempt to give him some sort of role model his own age, and spent most of his parents’ New Year’s Eve party ranting to Tommy and the girls while they played cards in his basement.

Her saving grace is Eileen, of course, who’s father had bought her mother a shiny, new car for Christmas, and had given Eileen the keys to her mother’s old station wagon. 

“It’s kinda dumb that we’re taking two cars,” Peach, Eileen’s little sister, pipes up from the back seat, hands fiddling in her lap. It’s New Year’s Day, and while their various parents were sleeping off their hangovers, they’d suggested the kids check out the new diner that was opening today. Vince jumped at the suggestion of freedom, and everyone was in agreement, but Eileen and Charlotte took Peach in Eileen’s car the moment Vince slid into Tommy’s front seat, holding the flyer he’d gotten at the mall that told them all about the diner’s opening day, “just saying, we could all fit in one.” But she’s met with silence, “are you going to be mad at him forever?” She finally sighs.

“Yes.” Both Charlotte and Eileen answer automatically. Peach sighs as dramatically as she’s able, and sinks as low into the seat as she can. Charlotte turns on the radio, and hums along to something familiar, but that she doesn’t quite recognize, staring out the front window at the back of Tommy’s car. Vince turns around in the front seat and flips them off.

“I’m gonna ram them,” Eileen says, with absolute sincerity and serenity, leveling an intense glare at where Vince was now waving.

“Don’t,” Charlotte advises, equally level.

“I don’t get why you’re still mad, I’m not even mad,” Peach huffed, pouting. Charlotte and Eileen share a look; at sixteen years old, Peach was top of almost all of her math and science classes, but she was still a teenage girl, and an absolute fool for a blonde boy who made her cry. Charlotte knew that feeling all too well, but thankfully she’d moved on from the ‘wondering why she wasn’t enough’ stage to the ‘realizing her ex is a cheating douchebag and it was never her fault’ stage. She really hopes Peach can move on to ‘realizing Vince made her cry and hasn’t even tried to change since then and deserved to get his car keyed’ stage quickly.

The diner was bustling when they arrived, a large decal on the inside of window, black, thick and flowing lettering, outlined in gold, reading Leo’s. Through the window, several booths were already filled, as were a host of the stools along the counter. It looked warm inside, inviting in golds, yellows, peaches and oranges, neon signs and rusted street signs, band and comic book memorabilia, and photos. Behind the counter -

Lola. Smiling.

“I’m freezing my butt off, can we go in?” Peach asks, hands shoved deep in the pockets of her parker, the only person who did not recognize the girl currently pouring coffee for an elderly gentleman at the counter. 

Inside, the diner is warm, filled with the sounds pleasant chatter, and of the Beatles coming from a cherry wood jukebox in the corner.

“Lola!” Tommy can’t help himself, lighting up at the sight of her, and once Lola finishes pouring her customer coffee, she looks to their confused little group, and waves.

“Find yourselves a seat, I’ll be with you in a moment,” she calls back, smiling bright and wide, hair tied back with a bright, red bandana. 

The teens do as they’re told, pulling off jackets and gloves and scarves, sliding into a booth by the window, looking around, wrapped up in the smell of warm food, and the confusion of Lola’s presence, and completely unfamiliar demeanor. There’s an uncertain kind of quiet among them, having just expected to spend lunch at a cool new diner, but this has shift everything, only Peach, blissfully unaware of who Lola even was, seemed at ease, rearranging the sugar packets in their little holder.

Lola comes by with menus, and cups, and a pitcher of water for the table, looking pristine and put together in a tight, black blouse, skirt, and scuffed black combat boots, little peach-coloured apron tied around her waist. She pulls a notebook and pen from the pocket of the apron, looking around at them all, as if finally taking a moment to assess the situation.

Charlotte picked up a menu.

“You work here?” Tommy asked, and Lola confirms brightly, but doesn’t give any further details. She does, however, thank them all for coming, and recommend a few of her favourites.

“I’m also partial to The Lola, for obvious reasons,” she gives an actual laugh at that, as if implying one of the burgers was named after her was giving away too much information, and Charlotte was quickly scouring the menu.

Beef patty, double bacon, American cheese, lettuce, tomato, and a home-made smokey maple-barbeque sauce, on a toasted bun.

“The menu’s kind of misleading,” Lola admits, moving to look down over Charlotte’s shoulder as she was reading, “all the patties are home made too, with Leo’s signature blend of herbs and spices.” That asked more questions than it answered. No-one’s quite sure what to say.

“Can I get a milkshake?” Peach pipes up, and Lola’s smile grew wide as she asked what flavour, “chocolate, please, and do you have curly fries or regular?”

“Hand cut,” Lola tells her proudly, but that means very little to Peach, who’s just glad to be having food, “still need time to think?” Lola asks the rest, and they all give her awkward, quiet smiles and nods. 

Lola leaves, heading back to the counter, and the moment she’s gone, the whole table explodes with whispered confusion, leaning in, asking questions and not getting any answers. 

“You guys are being super fucking weird,” Peach hisses loudly at them all, while Charlotte and Tommy argue about how the other should have known. Eileen, quietly delighted by the chaos, demands to know if anyone else thinks Lola might secretly have a twin, and Vince, who’s had the least contact with her aside from Peach, is babbling about how it’s weird to see Lola so chipper; their mutual confusion is enough to set aside Eileen and Charlotte’s hatred of him, at least for the moment. 

When Peach demands they explain what they’re all whisper-shouting about, disturbing the booth behind her, they all quiet down, and Tommy and Eileen take it in turns explaining their full understanding of Lola. Charlotte takes the time to actually look around the diner now that she was inside.

There’s two other waitress, one behind the counter, the other always moving on about the various tables and booths on one side, making sure the customers are happy and food and drinks are delivered, both in the same outfit as Lola, though with varying footwear. 

The view to the kitchen is unobstructed behind the counter, a half wall where meals ready to be delivered were sat, but a clear view to where three people in the kitchen, two by the grills and fryers, turned away; a broad-shouldered man towering over the grill with the longest hair Charlotte’s ever seen braided neatly down his back, and a comparatively shorter man, also with far shorter hair, though enough to be pulled up into a messy pony tail. The shorter man’s working the fryer, and putting together burgers as the taller man cooked up their various ingredients. There was also a strangely familiar kid with a mop of dark, curly hair washing dishes on the other side of the kitchen, barely visible.

Lola worked diligently, smiling and chatting away; she collected dishes, and ferried meals, and handed out slices of desert from the cute, multi-tiered desserts display on the counter. When she came back, milkshake in one hand, basket of fries in the other, Peach is fully caught up on each of her friend’s short but confusing histories with her, and blurts out -

“You’re Lola?” Injecting new meaning into the words, into the name, as if anyone else at their entire school had the same name. Lola’s smile goes a little tight as she places the fries and the milkshake before the redhead. Standing back up, she taps her nametag, which reads Lola, with little flowers drawn around it, and confirms, though it’s clear she’s more on edge than she was before.

“You guys ready to order?” She asks, still trying to keep up her chipper attitude, pulling out her notebook again. Everyone’s quieter this time, looking over the menu and finally deciding on food.

“My mom heard the owner was a chef, is that true?” Tommy asks, looking up from the menu to Lola again, and the tense set of her shoulders loosens considerably at the question.

“Leo is a chef,” Lola nodded, grinning broadly, “trained at the Culinary Institute of America back in the sixties, and worked his way up to being the head chef of Parker House in Boston, which I know probably doesn’t mean much to you guys, but it’s,” Lola laughs a little struggling to describe it, “it’s fine dining at it’s finest, but for the past twelve years, he’s been running Leo’s in Salem, and now he’s here, still using all that fine dining training for the anyone who wants a good meal at a good price.”

“Is that something they have you memorize in training?” Vince says, a little awed, and Lola gives a strange little smile.

“Leo’s my dad.”

Everything kind of fell into place after that, finally making sense, and the gang’s confusion quickly shifted to understanding, and the air around the table seemed to clear. It was easier after that, the teens in the booth ordering quickly, and the chatter picked up to a normal level as she moved away, shouting their order back to the kitchen once she was back at the counter.

She doesn’t spend much time at their table, still in charge of waitressing half of the tables and booths, but she always gives them a nod as she passes, and their meals are being delivered efficiently, so there’s no reason to complain.

The food itself, for diner food, is nothing short of spectacular, which kind of just raises more questions - why if Leo can cook food that tastes this good, and with all the experience he evidentially has, would he open a diner in suburban LA, and not a high-end restaurant? But it feels kind of intrusive to ask, so Charlotte simply enjoys her food, and her friends’ company.

Up until Vince starts complaining about the exchange student again.

“His name’s Nicholas, he shows up in a week, and mom’s making me clear out the basement so he can sleep there,” he’s despondently poking his milkshake with one of his fries, head propped up on one hand, “I’ve been asking for years if I could move into the basement, and this fucking Nicholas just gets it?” His whole expression scrunches up at the thought, and he angrily eats his fry.

“Wait, so the issue isn’t that you have to clean up the basement, it’s that he gets to use it as a bedroom and you don’t?” Charlotte frowned, lowering her own burger, “why would you even want to sleep in the basement?”

“Privacy!” Vince throws his hands in the air, eyes wide, “Tammi keeps complaining about getting cramps in the back of my car, but my bedroom walls are paper thin,” he huffs, “I need my own space.”

“Tammi?” Peach asks, her voice high and almost painfully chipper, “Tammi Frisk? She scored the winning goal in the softball final, right?” She’s not looking at Vince, when Charlotte looks over to her, she’s looking at her plate of fries, pushing the few left around without eating any, smiling in a way that’s clearly forced.

“You were at the softball final?” Tommy asked, frowning slightly. Peach did not look up.

“For the school paper,” she explained, voice still strange.

“You’re still with Tammi Frisk?” Eileen asks, making sure the disgust is clear in her voice as she draws the table’s attention away from the clearly uncomfortable Peach. Charlotte’s lip curled; she wanted to make sure her expression was as judgmental as possible when Vince turned back to her. 

It’s not that she cared about who he was dating, she was mostly apathetic to Tammi, and knew little more about her than the fact that she was on the softball team, but Charlotte knew Vince had been dating Tammi when he’d decided to crush Peach’s heart publicly at the start of the last semester.

Neither Peach nor Eileen had told any of them exactly how, but apparently Eileen’s hatred was well warranted, both against Vince, and according to Eileen, Tammi too.

Vince, immediately sensing Eileen’s shift in tone, and seeing the look on her face, frowns.

“Kind of,” he responds flatly, and his gaze flicks to Peach, “not really,” he backtracks, and his indignation at the whole situation seems to fizzle out with a sigh, and he slouches, going back to paying attention to his burger, “she’s sort of hanging out with one of the second-string football guys, but they’re not... and we’re not really...” he trails off, despondent once more.

At least Vince seemed to be self-aware of the fact that he was an asshole to Peach, at least he had the decency to feel bad about it. Why he kept inviting Peach to hang out, despite the fact that he knew Eileen, who hated his guts, would come along too - invited or not - baffled Charlotte. 

Tommy was his friend, and a guy, Charlotte was a cheerleader and technically popular, and so was usually begrudgingly invited too, but Peach, sweet Peach, recent Science Fair Winner, junior reporter for the school paper, treasurer for the AV Club, by all accounts ‘a nerd’ when judged by her interests, was still on the guest list of Vince Neil’s life, even if he wouldn’t admit that out loud. 

It kind of made Charlotte want to punch him in the face.

But that’s not news.

“I hope the English exchange student is a decent influence on you,” Charlotte tells him. Vince scowls.

“You sound like my parents.”

you make me want to pretend to be a better man.

Now that school has started back up, Vince has thankfully had his car privileges returned, and Charlotte can return to not glowering in the back seat of Tommy’s car when he picks her up on the way to school, and drops her home on the days they both have practice. 

But it’s Wednesday, first week back, and he’s uncharacteristically quiet. Usually he’s babbling about practice, or cheerleaders he thinks are pretty, or Lola, but today, he meets Charlotte in the carpark, leaning against the trunk of his car, hands in his pockets, quiet. It’s decidedly unnerving.

“What’s wrong, Tom?” Charlotte asks, yanking the passenger door open once he unlocks it, sliding into the seat and putting her bag by her feet.

“Nothing,” Tommy voice betrays the lie, the thoughts so clearly on his mind that he was trying to avoid talking about. Charlotte won’t push him, if he wanted to tell her, he would, and he usually does, “put on some music, will you?” And Charlotte obligingly opens the glove compartment in front of her to look through the collection of 8track tapes he keeps in there, several of which had been Christmas gifts from Charlotte herself.

Feet on the dashboard, Charlotte’s more than content listening to Bon Jovi, bopping her head to the beat, when Tommy finally finds the words for his thoughts.

“Lola and Nikki Sixx are friends.” 

Up until now, Charlotte was under the impression that Tommy, like her, thought Nikki and Lola would be great as friends, Tommy’s current tone implies otherwise. 

“Is that not good?” Charlotte’s careful about her words, still not sure where Tommy’s hesitation was coming from.

“No, they make sense,” he’s quick to try and backtrack, words spilling from him almost too fast, “they make sense as friends.” He deliberates, before asking, “Charlie, you’re not friends with Nikki Sixx are you?” And it sounds like he already knows the answer. Charlotte hesitates.

“He keeps bothering me during my free periods, I wouldn’t exactly call us friends -”

“He called you Charlie,” its deadpan and accusatory in equal measure, and Charlotte shrinks back into her seat as Tommy keeps talking, “he called me ‘Charlie’s cousin’. It was weird.”

“I thought you wanted to be his friend -” she tries, right as they pull up to a red light, and Tommy fixes her with an unamused look, the only expression that makes him seem older than his years.

“Did you tell him I was obsessed with him?”

“No!” Charlotte snaps, automatically defensive.

“Because I’m not -”

“I never said - I told him you were a fan! That’s all! Like Duff was!” Charlotte tries to clear up, and Tommy looks back at the road, though this time he thankfully looks more pensive than angry. Only Bon Jovi cuts through the tense air between them for the rest of the drive back to Charlotte’s house, and when Tommy pulls up outside, he doesn’t say anything to her when she gets out. 

The next day, like clockwork, fifteen minutes into her free period, Nikki Sixx comes climbing over the school’s fence, into the garden Charlotte had been trying to force herself to study in. In all honesty, she’d been waiting for him, picking at her nail polish beneath the table and reading the same sentence in Moby Dick over and over again.

“Miss Lee,” Nikki nods to her, a little gruffer than usual, “you seem more tense than usual; I can help you with that if you want,” but he still manages to smirk his way through an unsubtle come-on, and Charlotte rolls her eyes, not in the mood for their usual banter.

“I’d rather sit on a cactus,” she tells him icily, without even a teasing edge. Nikki’s eyebrows shoot up at the hostility, and he puts the packet of cigarettes that he’d about to offer her on the table, knowing she’d turn them down anyway, “I thought people weren’t meant to know that we know each other.”

“What people do?” Nikki frowned, raising his lighter to the cigarette between his lips, “is this about yesterday? I talked to your cousin, big deal. Everyone knows you two are related, and everyone knows you,” he looks pointedly to the embroidered logo on her cheer uniform, “I wasn’t even looking for him -”

“Dude,” Charlotte felt as though she was about to tear her hair out, “you called me Charlie to him, people don’t just call me that!”

“Plenty of people call you that! That leggy redhead you’re always hanging around calls you Charlie -”

“My friends call me that -” Charlotte snaps, “and I know you know that’s Eileen Austen.” And Nikki’s wearing a dreamy look, like he’s thinking unholy thoughts about Eileen as Charlotte speaks, before snapping out of it as the first of her words register like a bucket of ice water to the face.

“I’ve called you Charlie before. To your face.”

“Yeah, I’ve noticed,” Charlotte tells him dryly, crossing her arms, “it’s less effort if I don’t correct you. We’re so not friends that I don’t even care about correcting you.” Back when this school year started, Charlotte wouldn’t have dreamed saying half the nasty shit she’s thrown at Nikki Sixx, and at some point she may have to confront the idea that being around him has made her meaner, “but did you tell my cousin that I told you he was obsessed with you? Because I never -”

“I said I was glad he was a fan!” Nikki scowled, sitting back and glowering at her across the table, “all I wanted was to ask Lola if she wanted to sit on the roof with the rest of the smokers, and your fuckin’ yappy, dumbass of a cousin -”

Punching someone in the face hurts a lot more than Charlotte had been anticipating, but it’s worth it to see Nikki toppling backwards off of the picnic bench and onto the cold grass. His cigarette lies some few feet away while he lays groaning, clutching his cheek, and Charlotte’s standing, leaning, thighs pressed against the picnic table for support as she’s staring down at him, breathing heavy through her nose while the adrenaline rushes through her system.

“What the fuck, Charlie?”

“Don’t talk shit about Tommy,” her heart’s thundering in her chest, she can feel the blood rushing in her ears, and when she looks at her hand, she sees the skin of one of her knuckles has split enough to draw blood, “he has done fucking nothing to you apart from support you, and think you’re really fucking cool, for whatever dumbass reason, so don’t you dare talk shit about him.”

“Jesus Christ,” Nikki groaned, eyes closed, trying to catch his breath after being winded so thoroughly, hand still cradling his cheek. That’s how Charlotte leaves him, slinging her bag onto her shoulder, and stalking towards the library to finish the rest of her free period in peace.

When Tommy drives Charlotte, Eileen, and Peach home after school that day, he’s quiet once again, but it somehow feels completely different to the oppressively accusatory air of the day before. The three girls were chattering away, trying to plan a trip to the mall for the upcoming weekend, and only when Peach and Eileen were waving goodbye in the rearview mirror did Tommy speak up.

“Did you punch Nikki Sixx in the face?” There’s a smile in her cousin’s voice, and Charlotte’s not quite sure how to react.

“I had good reason to,” she says, carefully guarded.

“He said you guys were friends, and then he thanked me for being coming to the gig a while back; told me he’d asked you to bring me specifically,” Tommy’s tone was oozing pride, and if Charlotte had been looking at him, and not frowning out the window, she would have seen how he was all but preening.

“He told you all that?” Charlotte’s anger at her memory’s of the morning’s altercation was fading fast.

“He hung out with me and Lola by the carpark for lunch,” Tommy paused, snorting a laugh, “didn’t want his buddies to find out a cheerleader gave him a black eye.”

“I - what? No I didn’t...” Charlotte’s eyes went wide, and finally she looked at her cousin’s beaming face.

“You definitely did; Lola laughed at him for a full ten minutes because of it.”

“Serves him right,” Charlotte said, with a begrudging little smile.

Nikki sits with Tommy and Lola on Friday too, which Tommy is delighted to inform Charlotte on Saturday while he’s driving them both to Vince’s, where his parents have invited them over to meet the exchange student. Nicholas.

He arrived on Wednesday, but Vince’s parents have given him the rest of the week to settle in, and had invited around the few friends Vince has that they deem to be a positive influence, if only so he knew a few faces around school. 

Charlotte had been picturing some over-gelled boarding-school boy, used to itchy uniforms and strict rules, and about to get a good deal of culture shock hanging around Vince and the rest of their motley little pack, but when Charlotte brings this speculation up in the car, Tommy’s quick to dismiss it. Vince, from the little Tommy had spoken to him in the past two days, was over the moon, claimed that Nicholas - Vince had called him Razzle - was amazing. If Charlotte felt an quiet sense of foreboding at that sentiment, she felt it was justified.

The first thing either of them hear after being directed down to the basement by Vince’s mother, is Alice Cooper playing almost obnoxiously loud; Charlotte’s not sure why, but it eases something in her chest. 

Nicholas’s - Razzle’s? - room, first and foremost, is possibly the coolest bedroom Charlotte’s ever been in. He’s decked it out with movie and band posters, though most of the band’s she’s never heard of. There’s string-lights above a desk, a bed crammed into one corner with a bright duvet, and even a sofa, and a few beanbags all crowded around a low, wooden table that had mostly been taken up with a record player, which is where they found their friends. 

The name Razzle suited him, Charlotte considered, as she took in the newcomer’s appearance, all spiked up dark hair and ostentatious clothing, animatedly telling a story while Peach and Vince hung onto his every word. He looked almost wild, like collection of half-thought ideas all vying to become a reality through the texture of his clothes, the height of his hair, the hint of amusement that tailed his words, the passion shining in the blue of his eyes when they flicked to look at her and her cousin, standing on the stairs and watching him.

His words grow quiet as he takes them in, as if waiting for something to happen, for someone to introduce them.

“You must be Charlie and Tommy!” His accent, thick and bright, made her nickname sound so familiar on his lips.

“Charlotte,” Vince corrects, giving a surprisingly respectful nod to Charlotte, who tries to shrug nonchalantly.

“Charlie’s fine. You’re,” and Charlotte hesitates for a moment, ignoring Vince’s eyeroll, “Razzle, right?” Razzle’s smile is blinding at her immediate use of the nickname, and he waves them in.

Peach throws Tommy a cushion from the sofa when he asks, and he settles himself on the floor next to Vince, while Peach and Eileen squeeze over to make room for Charlotte on the sofa clearly only made for two people.

“I was just telling these guys ‘bout my band’s very first gig, ‘nd how I had to sneak out just to get there,” Razzle settled back into his own beanbag, hands out and ready to return to his story, eyes still shining with anticipation at the memory, or possibly just glad to have an audience. 

Oh, Charlotte thought, looking at this boy she barely knew, already fighting off a smile in the face of his infectious enthusiasm, maybe Vince was becoming a better judge of character.

“You’re in a band?” Tommy’s eyes light up, and Charlotte gives her cousin a fond smile; Razzle has already won his seal of approval.

we need more good crazy. it'd be nice to watch the news, and think, 'that's fucking insane', but feel a little jealous instead of just alone.

Heather hasn’t been glowering as much at lunch, and the rumour is that it’s because she’s getting laid. Well, it’s less of a rumour to Charlotte, since Heather confirmed as much to the rest of the cheer squad when one of the girls asked her, but she’s being coy and secretive about who she’s with, which is the really weird part; Heather won’t say, and no-one’s coming forward, and lord knows that most guys at their school would jump at the opportunity to claim they’re banging the Vice Captain of the Cheerleading Squad. 

But Charlotte knows not to look a gift horse in the mouth, and instead just smiles back when Heather gives her a sunny smile in the cafeteria.

Tommy is less than thrilled with the news when Charlotte brings it up in the car after school. Nikki’s still sitting with him and Lola during lunch, despite his bruising going down considerably over the weekend, and Tommy is equal parts delighted and uncomfortable, for reasons he can’t seem to put into words. 

“At least Pam’s single,” he says it with as much of a dreamy sigh as he can manage, though it comes out more forlorn than anything else. Charlotte pets his shoulder, and reminds him that so is over half the squad; he perks up a little at that. 

They pull into Mick’s gas station, and Charlotte waves to Mick and Lola, who are sitting on the step by the door sharing a cigarette. Lola waves back.

“Meant to give this to you,” Lola says to Charlotte, still sitting while Mick begrudgingly heads inside. Tommy follows him in, not needing to fill up the tank, but rather just looking to drown his sorrows regarding Heather in a jumbo slurpee. Outside, Charlotte waits with her hands in her pockets, giving Lola an amused smile, watching as the dark haired girl pulls a pin off of the jacket she practically lives in, and hands it over.

It’s a piece of black card stock cut into the shape of a star, barely an inch in diameter, taped to a safety pin. It say Punched Nikki Sixx in silver pen, one of the points of the star already a little bit crumpled. 

“You’re a little bit punk, so you get a pin,” Lola tells her, smiling around her cigarette, looking quietly pleased, and perhaps even a little bit proud; whether of herself or of Charlotte, Charlotte can’t tell, but it still makes her flush.

“I thought Nikki didn’t want anyone knowing that a cheerleader gave him a black eye,” Charlotte mused, looking at the little pin, and Lola’s face scrunched up, expression falling.

“So? Who gives a shit?” She shrugs, looking away tone having shifted to almost forcibly neutral in an instant, “wear the pin or don’t, I don’t care.” Lola stands with a groan, without giving Charlotte a chance to respond, and calls to Mick that she’s heading to the diner. Mick waves, Tommy calls out a farewell, and Charlotte frowns, wondering what just happened.

“I hate that,” Nikki says flatly, the moment he spots the pin where Charlotte’s fixed it to the strap of her backpack. There’s no hard feelings between them after last week’s altercation, thankfully, though they don’t talk about it. If Charlotte’s glad that he still showed up, if she’s realised she may, in fact, enjoy his company, she keeps that information to herself.

“Lola made it for me,” Charlotte tells him. Nikki leans in, squinting at the handmade pin.

“Of course she did,” he sighs, leaning back. Surprisingly, there’s quiet between them for a few, long moments; maybe, Charlotte considers, this will be one of those mornings where Nikki uses their time together to catch up on sleep, and Charlotte can actually use her free period for it’s intended, study-related purpose, but then Nikki sighs like he wants her to ask what’s wrong.

So she does.

“I need a new band.”

“I can’t help you.”

“I know,” Nikki nods with resignation, “I was gonna ask this guy I work with, Slash, he plays guitar, but he’s already in one -”

“Wait, you don’t mean Duff’s friend Saul Hudson, do you?” Charlotte frowned, intrigued despite the stab of anger she felt at the mere mention of her ex. Nikki seemed taken aback by her question.

“You know Duff McKagan?”

“I dated him for a year and a half,” Charlotte finds herself suddenly very interested in drawing connecting triangles in the back of her notebook, not looking at Nikki, who’s quietly processing this information.

“He’s in a band now,” and neither of them seem to be quite sure why he offered that information, but they both let is hang between them for a moment.

“Makes sense,” Charlotte nods, tone flat, “with Saul - Slash?”

“Yeah,” is all Nikki has to say.

“Slash is a good kid, I always liked him,” Charlotte offered, and finally she looks up, “Tommy plays drums.”

“Marching band isn’t exactly -” Nikki begins, but Charlotte’s shaking her head.

“No, like, legit drums,” she enthuses, “his parents fixed up their whole garage to make it sound proof for him,” but she doesn’t want Nikki to think she’s pushing her cousin on him too hard, not after last week, so she sits back, and crosses her arms, trying to play it cool, “I mean, you can ask him yourself, see if he’s any good.” She shrugs, but Nikki looks like he’s already considering it. 

“How many musicians do you know, Charlie?” He finally asks, giving her a faint, amused smile.

“Probably too many,” Charlotte responds with a longsuffering smile, before her mind turns to the things Tommy himself had told her, “I heard you and Lola are getting along; what’d I tell you?” She teased, and much to her surprise, what she could see of Nikki’s face, for his hair, was turning pink.

“She’s a bitch; you know she’s a bitch, right?” He asks, but he’s grinning, all sharp and dangerously amused.

“I knew you guys would get along,” Charlotte gives a pleased little sigh, as if she’d manufactured their whole friendship herself. Nikki rolls his eyes at her, and the bell goes.

Tommy, as it turns out, thinks they’re sleeping together, at least that’s what he tells Charlotte when they’re on their way to Leo’s after school to meet up with Vince, Razzle, Peach, and Eileen. The news of Nikki and Lola’s potential affair surprises Charlotte at first, but after a moment of consideration, she thinks she should have seen it coming. 

Tommy’s reasoning is that they’ve become friends far quicker than he’d realised, and Nikki’s always giving Lola lifts after work, like they’re going in the same direction, even though he’d pretty sure Nikki doesn’t live near Leo’s. It also turns out that that was what had been bothering him about Nikki and Lola being friends; he still tries to insist he doesn’t have a crush on Lola, but he and Charlotte both know that’s mostly a lie.

So Charlotte can see how conflicted he is when he tells her that Nikki’s looking to start a new band, and that he asked about Tommy possibly playing drums. A beat of silence follows, and then, without looking away from the road, Tommy mutters a quiet thanks, knowing without asking that Charlotte had been the one to recommend him. Charlotte leans over and bumps her forehead against his shoulder in unspoken acknowledgment. 

“Duff’s in a band,” Charlotte’s voice is soft and a little unreadable.

“Sorry,” Tommy mutters, tone somber like it’s the worst news in the world, “we could throw rotten tomatoes at him?” He suggested, at the mental picture alone was enough to make Charlotte laugh, “or is that just in the movies?”

“I think that’s just in the movies,” Charlotte says, amid giggles, “besides, the rest of his band doesn’t deserve that.”

In the week that Razzle’s been in LA, Vince and his family have taken him to several, sophisticated restaurants in the vicinity, and Razzle had apparently loved them all; Leo’s was no different. He was sitting across from Charlotte in the booth, at the end of the table, reading the menu intently as the others chattered away about their day, making noises of intrigue every time he spotted something new he wanted to try. His knee knocked hers under the table, but it barely seemed to register, so engrossed in the menu that he muttered the faintest apology.

“Afternoon, guys, welcome,” Lola at work never failed to startle Charlotte, despite the fact that she’d been here once already since the first time. At least her chipper introduction seemed to bring Razzle back to reality. 

“Hi, yes - oh! I know you!” Razzle lit up at the sight of Lola, and the rest of the gathered teens watched with interest, trying not to give away how intrigued they were to see Lola’s reaction, “Miss Honky Cat, you work here?”

What?

“Alright, Razzle, you found me, did you wanna order something?” Lola says, with a good-natured eyeroll, and an easy grin, hip cocked to one side. Razzle asks her what she recommends, and orders that, and then the rest of them, who had been sitting in stunned silence, are quick to order for themselves.

When she leaves, it’s mere moments before Tommy asks what that was all about, and Razzle’s eyes go wide.

“That’s Lola, innit? From school? She’s in my music class, was playing Honky Cat on the piano in the second music room, the Elton song, you know, when we had some free this morning,” he explained, confused, “she called me Rocketman when I picked what she’d been playing, but I told her my name’s Razzle.” 

“You’re an enigma,” ironically, it’s Eileen who says this, wearing a fond little smile, while Razzle just looked bemused.

“I think it’s the accent, chicks fuckin’ love it,” Vince pipes up, smirking, and Razzle tries to hide his own pleased little grin since he can’t very well deny it, “Pam was all over him in Phys Ed yesterday -”

“We were just having a conversation -” Razzle was quickly turning red, while Vince clutched at his arm, putting on a high voice, twirling his blonde hair around one finger as he pretended to be Pam.

“Oh Nicholas, tell me more about The Clash, please, I want to know more!” He ended with a fake moan, which had Eileen and Peach laughing, while Razzle grabbed Charlotte’s hand and exaggeratedly mouthed ‘help me’. 

“Pam’s into Razzle?” Tommy groaned, breaking the moment, falling dejectedly against Vince, who was already leaning pretty heavily on Razzle, who was then ejected from his seat and onto the floor, while Vince was draped over where he was just sitting, and Tommy was draped over Vince, “I’m gonna die alone.”

Despite Tommy’s despair, the rest of the table was greatly amused.

Thankfully for Razzle, it wasn’t a far fall, and he’d held tight to Charlotte’s hand, so at least he hadn’t ended up flat on his back, and Charlotte gave him an apologetic grin as she helped him to his feet. He lets go to dust himself off, and it’s here Charlotte notices his maroon, velvet pants, and black and white leather shoes with their little heel.

“Fancy threads,” Charlotte points out, notes of approval in her voice. Razzle makes a move to straightening a jacket he’s not wearing, and clicks his heels together, drawing the attention of the rest of the table to his shoes, of which they all make various noises of approval, or at least interest.

“I dress to impress,” and judging by his tone, if he were as crass as Vince or Nikki, he would have winked, but Charlotte’s kind of glad he refrained. He then shoves Vince, and by extension Tommy, back up to a sitting position, retaking his seat across from Charlotte, this time purposefully knocking his knee against hers.

Charlotte’s glad that Lola’s back with their drinks, so she can look at something that’s not Razzle’s sunny smile, because she doesn’t want to think about how pretty it makes him look. Stupid, British, band boy and his stupid, blue eyes.

But then she’s looking at Lola, and all she can remember is Tommy’s dejected expression when he told her that Lola and Nikki were possibly sleeping together, and Nikki’s half-hidden, bashful grin when he calls a bitch with a kind of fondness that Charlotte had never heard from him before. The urge to protect her cousin, from harm, from heartbreak, is carved into her bones, but part of her knows it would him hurt more to let him keep falling for Lola when she’d never really end up catching him. Suddenly staring into the depths of her soda became the safest option.

i have loved since you. but when the new paint gets scratched, there you are underneath.

Heather, of all people, is holding a party, and she tries to limit the amount of people she tells - the squad and her friends were the first to be invited - but of course, the guest list spirals out of control, and it’s exactly one and a half days before Tommy’s mooning over the fact that he’s been invited to a party at an actual cheerleader’s house.

“Dude, you’re killing me here,” Charlotte tells him at lunch; she’s finally sitting with him, Lola, and Nikki, though Nikki’s late. Heather had coyly asked her to ask Vince to bring Razzle - the cute English guy, specifically - and Charlotte had picked up her bag and left. Something about Heather in a good mood was worse than when she was being catty.

“You don’t count, you’re my cousin,” Tommy waived her off, and Lola snorted a laugh from where she was laying in the grass, using her backpack as a pillow. “You going?” Tommy pokes Lola in the ribs and she smacks his hand away, but makes an affirmative noise, and throws her arm over her eyes to shield them from the sun.

Something about how that makes Tommy smile, almost pleased, has worry sinking heavy in Charlotte’s gut. 

“Heather asked me to ask Vince to invite Razzle,” Charlotte’s not quite sure why she says it, or why it makes Lola bark a laugh of her own, but at least it get’s Tommy’s mind off of last time he and Lola were at a party.

“Of course -” Tommy sighs, but then, in the very same breath, he lights up like a lightbulb, “wait! If Heather’s preoccupied with Razzle, and Pam’s going, then I -” he turned sharply to Charlotte, eyes wide, “is Pam seeing anyone?” Charlotte gives him an amused, but longsuffering look, shaking her head.

“You gonna put the moves on her?” Lola’s smirking, and Tommy’s steadily turning red, but refusing to be embarrassed.

“It’s now or never, you know? She’s graduating in a few months, will go to college and date some meathead, college footballer, this is my chance,” he enthused, and Charlotte pet his shoulder in solidarity. 

Nikki joins them halfway through lunch, right as Lola and Charlotte find themselves playing angel and devil on Tommy’s shoulders regarding how he should dress for the party. Charlotte’s firmly of the opinion that he should be be wearing bright, eye-catching things - “Come on, you know Pam likes those new-wave guys!” - while Lola was adamantly recommending to go all-out punk. 

“Don’t ask Nikki’s opinion, you know who he’s going to side with,” Charlotte implored, and as if to prove a point, Nikki throws his bag to the side, and lays down with his head pillowed on Lola’s stomach. 

“Because Nikki has taste,” Lola throws her arm above her head, into the grass, neck at an awkward angle as she looks, wide-eyed to Tommy. 

“Thank you,” Nikki grumbles, and immediately closes his eyes, “what are we arguing about?” A pause, then, “and why is Charlie here?”

“Heather asked Charlie to bring Razz to the party next weekend,” Tommy says, the words sounding rote off his tongue, before he gets into the meat of the argument, laying himself back in the grass. Somehow it makes Charlotte feel left out, being the only one left marginally upright, and she slouches a little lower against the fence. 

Tommy explains his conundrum, and much to everyone’s surprise, Nikki refrains from giving his opinion, sighting that he has no clue what Pam would like, and that he’s not taking the fall if Tommy looks like a dickhead and crashes and burns while talking to, arguably, the most popular girl in school.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, asshole,” Tommy groans, without really thinking, and as the realization and subsequent horror took over his expression, Lola barked a laugh, and even Nikki was grinning.

The moment was surprisingly light, Tommy’s face buried in his hands, though he’s now hiding a smile, and Charlotte is surprised at how easy it is to smile and laugh here, these people accepting her presence without another thought. The politics of the cafeteria make it all feel so foreign, but Tommy said ‘Charlie’s sitting here now’ and Nikki and Lola took it in stride.

And later, Eileen will ask her where she was at lunch, will go on to sigh and roll her eyes as she recounts barely sitting through five minutes of the cheerleaders buzzing like cheerful, little hornets, discussing who would be at the party, and how they would coordinate their outfits. She’d spent another five minutes with the swim team, who spent the entire time picking apart her backstroke technique since she ‘finally decided to join them’.

“This is why I don’t sit with them,” Eileen had frowned, sitting in the McDonalds carpark, absentmindedly violating her soda with it’s straw out of frustration, Charlotte, wide-eyed, quietly eats her terrible, oily fries, and lets Eileen vent, “if I have to listen to one more five-am-gym-going-wannabe-sports-scholarship tell me my form is off, I’m going to go full Carrie-At-The-Prom at our next meet,” Eileen warned, and reached over to snatch a fry. Very few people were ever privy to Eileen’s frustration, as the redhead seemed to do a rather good job of bottling it up, but Charlotte personally felt honored that her friend could be so honest around her.

“I was thinking of joining yearbook, maybe? Or the school paper with...” a strange moment of hesitation, “with Peach,” Eileen paused, taking a long moment to think, and take a sip of her drink, eyes glass as she stared out at the highway as cars passed before them, “auditions for the school play are on Friday,” she adds, like she’s seriously considering it, “it’s Singin’ In The Rain, Keanu actually suggested I should audition.” The idea that Keanu and Eileen have talked enough for him to suggest that she audition for a musical and for her to serious consider it is kind of baffling; Charlotte doesn’t process the meaning behind any of this now, however, just files it away in the back of her mind for later.

“Macy moved to Portland over the Summer,” Charlotte feigns seriousness with her suggestion instead, trying not to give away how amused she is, already anticipating Eileen’s response, “we’re holding cheer tryouts to replace her on Tuesday,” Eileen’s expression is already souring, almost comedically disgusted at Charlotte’s implied suggestion, though she lets the blonde finish, “you were the best bottom-right to the pyramid we’ve ever had,” she said, barely stifling giggles as Eileen turns to her.

“I’d rather die,” her lip curled, and Charlotte leaned over the center console of the minivan to press her forehead against Eileen’s shoulder, and Eileen reaches up with her free hand to scratch gently at Charlotte’s scalp, before bursting out with, “and my form’s not even bad! The coach loves me, Charlie, she loves me, they just think they’re better than me, bunch of clique-y, insular, webbed-toe bitches.”

The words hang in the air, a surprising outburst from the usually reserved and thoughtful girl.

“Do they really have webbed toes?” Charlotte asks, turning so her temple still pressed against the soft cashmere of Eileen’s sweater, but she was following the ginger’s gaze out to the highway ahead. Eileen gives a tired, little laugh, as if her outburst had left her exhausted.

“No.”

Charlotte wants more than anything to ask her what’s wrong, but knows better than anyone that Eileen only says exactly what she wants someone else to know. Instead, she offers her fries silently. Eileen takes one.

“Peach and I got into a fight today,” voice barely above a whisper, Eileen follows her words with a sigh, and suddenly her out of character frustration made complete, and utter sense. For all that she’s known both Peach and Eileen, Charlotte has never known their altercations to be quick or painless affairs, “Vince invited her to Heather’s party.”

“He invited her himself?” Charlotte’s not sure what the issue is beyond their general dislike of Vince, but if Vince himself is starting to possibly change, then it’s hard to see the issue. 

“Yeah,” Eileen seems to know what Charlotte’s thinking, and pauses to find the right words, “I don’t trust him, and I don’t know how she can trust him either.” There’s a quality to her voice that Charlotte’s only heard rarely; uncertainty, “and I don’t want her going to Heather’s party, I barely want to go myself, and what if she drinks, and what if she does terrible things she regrets -?” Eileen cuts herself off, squeezing her eyes shut and leaning her head back against the headrest.

“I get it,” Charlotte says, so gentle, so understanding, but Eileen’s still quiet.

“She’s my little sister, Charlie,” Eileen sighed, “and it’s like our parents couldn’t care less, so I have to protect her, and I have to keep her from the guy she thinks is the love of her life, and I have to be the one to always remind her of all the shitty things he’s done and remind her that life isn’t a goddamn fairytale.” She sounds close to tears, soda cup between her knees and hands clutching, white knuckled, at the steering wheel, or else she may have been tearing her hair out. 

There was a shake in her voice, tight and exhausted in equal measure, like the words had sat, unspoken, pressed against her teeth, for far longer than Charlotte had realized she’d been thinking them. Charlotte rests her hand on Eileen’s. 

“She loves you more than anyone else in the world, you know that right? She’s just sixteen, you know all the drama and shit we went through last year -”

“I can’t watch her go through what you went through with Duff,” the words escaped Eileen in a rush, and she clamps her mouth shut, sitting forward in the driver’s seat, lips pressed into a thin line, as Charlotte’s heart sank in her chest, “I’m sorry.”

“No, I know what you mean,” Charlotte sat back in her own seat, nodding dejectedly, fiddling with her bracelet. 

“You... Charlie, you know you’re my best friend, and I love you, and seeing you in pain with no way to help,” Eileen’s hands slid down the sides of the steering wheel as she forced herself to relax, though her words have Charlotte’s heart swelling with fondness, “it fucking killed me,” she admitted, leaning back, letting her shoulders sags with the weight of her words, like the weight of the world, and as she leaned back, she looked to Charlotte, so unguarded, so sincere, “I can’t let Vince break Peach’s heart like that.”

Eileen has always looked and seemed older than her seventeen years, but it’s strange to see her like this, to be reminded that she holds within her this unassuming duality. To protect is her first instinct, herself, her feelings, her friends, her family, but she’s still so young, just a kid; she still deserves to be protected too.

“I’m so tired,” Eileen murmurs, gaze dropping to her hands, now folded in her lap, and she huffs a humorless laugh, “I’m seventeen, Charlie, I’m fucking tired of feeling thirty.”

[monster-bait]

Into the Light ficlet: Candles; M Will-o’-the-Wisp x F Human

For @thelampades​. Just ‘cause. No reason. None at all. 😙🎶🥳🧁💖💖💖

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The rain blew down in sheets, rattling the windows in their casements hard enough to send the cat scurrying to hide in the workshop. Outside the cottage door, the wind howled.

You’d not be faring out of doors today. 

The sky had been sheeting for days and the road was like to be a muddy quagmire, and besides, there wasn’t much you needed in town. The only place you had a mind to visit was mum’s house, but you weren’t willing to traverse the storm all the way around town—knee-deep in mud, you’d be soaked to the skin, and you’d have to endure the foul conditions again on the return trip. The only other way, of course, was the forest path, but the forest was out of the question.

You missed the shelter of the pines and the path you knew so well, full of familiar landmarks where you'd spent so many hours playing as a child...but the Autumn Queen still sat her throne, and would do so for several weeks more. 

Far better to stay indoors, where it was bright and warm; where you could bundle in your favorite quilt and sip your favorite tea, sweetened with your favorite honey, and wait for nightfall to carry away this day. The thought of this particular day ending was cheering, and you turned from the wash basin, setting the kettle on the stovetop. You quilt was upstairs, and you marched off to fetch it determindley. No one would pull you from your determined mope, and chores could wait. 

From the upstairs window you watched a lamp in the distance gutter in the wind before extinguishing fully. The buildings in town you were able to glimpse from behind the protective circle of hawthorne were dark, although puffs of smoke came from the chimneys. Hearthfires but no lamps; wisely conserving their oil for the coming winter. You turned the lamps up once you returned to the ground floor, heedless of the concern.

Your home was never without light, after all.

You couldn’t technically remember if it rained every year on your birthday, as you couldn’t remember most things, but each wet lash against the cottage stones seemed to echo in your bones, and you were certain that it had. A non-stop deluge, steel grey skies, and the rumble of thunder in the cauldron of the hills, matching your melancholy—it felt comfortingly familiar, and if you closed your eyes you could almost smell the warmth of something baking, a bright flash of ozone, the chill of a chain slipped ‘round your neck—memories of birthdays past, all buffeted by the same storm. 

You didn’t like the day, regardless of the weather. Birthdays were nothing but a reminder after all, of promises made to yourself and not kept, of plans made and not followed through on, of all the things you wanted to do and hadn’t. Now it was a reminder that you continued to age, while your handsome husband would not. 

Although, you were forced to admit, staring broodingly into the storm, he did an admirable job disappearing into the background of the town. Your own mother had squinted in thought, laughing as she admitted she couldn’t actually remember when the lamplighter had been hired by the village, just that he’d somehow always been there.

“But that’s silly! Of course he hasn’t, it must only have been a few years. Perhaps he resembles the fellow before...oh, but not nearly as handsome as your Jack.”

Yes, he wore his skin well, but no amount of russet scruff on his jaw could hide the mischievous sparkle of his eyes, while yours would dull as the years trudged on. The tea kettle whistled, and you gave it a sour look for interrupting your mental grousing.

There had been a night, some weeks back, when you’d been unable to sleep. The wind was still and moonlight illuminated the bedclothes, and the angular planes of his face—high cheekbones and sharp jaw and long, tapering ears—were far more interesting than sleep. A crusted weal sliced around his ear, the latest gift from your least favorite member of the high court, one of many he’d received, and you’d diligently dabbed it with a homemade salve until the bright red wound had scabbed. Long lashes fanned across his white skin, fluttering as if he could feel the weight of your gaze, opening slowly. His smile was languid, revealing glinting fangs, and his stormy eyes crinkled, pinning you to the spot.

“Fancy meeting you here, missy.”

You’d grinned in spite of yourself, running a fingertip over the nearly-healed lash. You hadn’t heard him come returning that night and hadn’t felt him slip into the bed beside you, but you’d been glad all the same. “This mended up well,” you murmured, tapping the scab. 

“I have an excellent in-house nursemaid.”

You’d scowled at his nonchalance. His face was beginning to resemble a patchwork quilt of silvery scars, the physical evidence of his inability to control his cheek. “Well, she would very much appreciate it if she could be given a holiday. All you need to do is control that mouth of yours.”

You’d witnessed it the very first time he’d brought you to the court, to present you to the queen and announce your recent nuptials. 

Memory was strange and foreign and unfamiliar, but since the day you’d wedded the lamplighter, two years prior, you remembered every moment of every day. Your mind was uncomfortably full, crowded with the minutiae of idle gossip shared with Enid and the butcher’s row with Mrs. Leamhnach last Wednesday. You remembered the heat of your husband’s mouth and the press of his body against yours, the relentless hammer of his hips as he held your leg hitched over his hip in his work room, the way the ladder on the wall had thumped and rattled in a dangerous syncopation as you were fucked against the wall...you remembered the warm huff of his breath against your neck in the bed you shared and the cloudy storm of his tempest eyes as he propped his head with a long-fingered hand, leaning on his elbow and smirking down on you as you gazed up from the pillow.

You remembered that night perfectly: the press of willowy bodies and the hum of pixies darting through the air. You’d been afraid of the night gaunts who had loomed on the outskirts of the gathering, heard the rustle of wings and the whisper of musical voices as you passed, clinging to Jack’s arm.

You remembered the black scales and long, fair hair of the knight at the queen’s side, his mocking chuckle as Glánthan was called forth, pulling you with him for the first time. 

Her crown was a twisting mass of antlers and leaves, the hollowed out shell of an abandoned bird’s nest and branches set in shining gold, gleaming against her fiery red hair. Skin like alabaster with lips like fat, ripe cherries; you were certain would never forget the way her head cocked curiously, examining you as if you were a strange insect brought before her by her constituent as you fell into a clumsy curtsy...just as you would never forget the way her beauty fell away as the moon shifted, her perfect, white complexion replaced with a death’s head, still shimmering golden. 

“These vows were exchanged after the turn?” she questioned, her delicate brows furrowed in consternation. “In the aestival time?”

“That is against our laws, lampman,” the doll-faced knight sneered, loosening the gem-encrusted blade at his hip. “Which you well know.”

“A crime for which you’ve been punished before.” The Queen’s forehead still scrunched, her face a moue of displeasure.

Glánthan spread his hands in an expansive gesture, fixing the queen with a winsome smile. “Then it would do no good to dole out the same sentence, your grace.”

The blade was drawn. Long, dagger-like teeth winked in the moonlight as the knight advanced down the steps, his smile a terrifying, gruesome thing. “I’m going to cut out your tongue for that,” he’d chuckled, “and perhaps that might curb your disrespect.”

The queen’s laughter had been a delighted tinkle, a crystal bell carrying on the still air, the sound mirrored in shrill tones by the harpy above. “Darling one, you are terribly dramatic. Come, sit with me and leave the night wisp alone. Lampbearer, present to me your new bride.” 

“You’re going to get yourself killed,” you’d grumbled, tracing another one of the silvery scars as he shifted against the pillow.

“I’m not. I fill a role, an invaluable one, and if that prancing twat wants to open my throat, the Queen will have to replace me, which I assure you, she does not want to do. A herald would have to be sent out to all the realm seeking a replacement, they would need to be vetted and trained...have you ever met one of the Queen’s heralds? The only part of their jobs those satyrs are committed to is fucking every lass and lad from the Giant’s Pass to the bells of Mag Mell, and her royalship knows it. You don’t need to worry about me, wife. I’m irreplaceable.”

Your shoulders had been shaking beneath the covers by the time he’d finished his ridiculous monologue, your laughter wheezing against his neck. “Do you mean to tell I owe my gratitude to a pack of libidinous satyrs for being the only thing keeping your giant mouth from getting you killed?”

“May their cocks stand tall through every moon,” he sighed, reaching over you to lift the glass of water you had on the bedside table in a toast, and you shook in laughter again. 

It was several moments before silence more claimed the moonlit room, and you’d pressed your fingers into his unruly hair. “Is it always this easy?”

You hadn’t been certain where the question had come from, nor why you’d given it voice, but it was too late to take it back and you did want to know. Despite their small size, the weight of that vial of seeds pressed heavily upon your mind. Jack said nothing for a long while, one of his cool fingertips ghosting over your skin.

“No.”

There was no time to feel the weight crush you, for his lips had pressed yours then, familiar and sweet, cinnamon and honey and mead, kerosene and the damp air of the bog. Your life had gone on as it always had—the same village, the same friends and market and baker and laundress—your mum was close and you still sold your herbs...and Jack had fit into the landscape of your life seamlessly; the thought of it not being this way twisted your heart.

“But that doesn’t matter, sweet. It doesn’t matter who you are...I’ll always find you.”

His lips had found yours, shifting you above him until you were splayed over his hips, and each rise and fall of your body sent a bolt of lightning down your spine; each roll of your hips increasing the thunder of your heart, and you’d wondered, as you tightened around his cock, a shudder moving through you, if the lightning tree was thudding with the same euphoria.

Sipping your tea now, you turned away from the gusting rain at the window. This day did nothing but harken the end of another year of this easy life, and it was nothing to celebrate. Settling in your chair by the fire, you wondered, not for the first time, what you would look like in your next life, if he had preferred the buxom scullery maid to your present form, if he had a favorite you. 

He had missed your birthday the first autumn after you’d wed him, disappearing into the woods for several days after mumbling about quotas and a poxy troll book keeper, kissing you on the forehead and whistling his familiar tune as the door swung shut behind him. You’d made no mention of the significance of the date, and wished that you could make yourself forget it as cleanly as you forgot other things. Perhaps he won’t come home today either, and you can forget about the whole miserable mess.

You’d never been especially lucky, and evidently being another year older wasn’t going to change things.

The workshop at the back of the cottage was full of the tools of his trade. Ladders of varying heights hung from the walls, drums of kerosene, hooks and poles, glass globes and brass fixtures. When the plank door opened, the wind would rattle through the entire space, shaking the ladders and whistling through the loft. You heard the familiar series of thumps on the wall, followed by a familiar whistle, despite the dreadful weather.

“It’s raining sideways,” he announced cheerfully, heedless of the rivulets of water that tracked down his face, disappearing into the soaked collar of his roughspun, “and cold as the Brumal Queen’s teats on Saturnalia. That brownie had best have a hot bath ready, if he wants to skip a beating.”

As ever, you couldn’t help but laugh. Your life would never be your own, but it wasn’t as if you had been doing anything particularly grand with it in the first place.

“I seem to remember the brownie evicting itself when you tried to make it dance for you.”

You’d never tire of his smile, the mischievous glint in his eye or his wide hands encircling your waist, but you didn't expect it in that moment, squeaking when he hauled you up and over his shoulder. Up the short staircase, dropping you with a bounce to the bed, you laughed as he shucked his wet clothes in a heap on the floor. You had no complaints when he pulled you beneath the covers, despite the icy coldness of his skin. Pressing your face to his broad chest, you inhaled the familiar, damp scent of his skin, willing yourself to shake off the gloom that had enveloped you all week as this day approached. It’s almost over and you didn’t even need to acknowledge it.

“Who has offended my wife, and how severely do I need to kill them?”

Your eyes flew open, only to find the tip of his nose practically touching your own. It was odd sometimes, the way his rough day-to-day voice—Jack of the lanterns, known to all in the village—slid into the smooth spill white satin, a fae ring in every syllable, in the space of a few words. At that moment, he was poised on the knife-tip between the two and you shivered.

“If you think I haven’t noticed, you do me a serious disservice, sweet. Name the miscreant, and they’ll never draw another breath.”

“There’s no one—”

“Wife.” His eyes had narrowed into an equally familiar scowl, and you pushed down your laughter, knowing his ego would not abide it. “Do not keep secrets from me.” He threw the covers back dramatically, ignoring your protests. “A dishonor on you is a dishonor on me, and no one shall cross me and live to see the next—”

“It’s my birthday!”

His bluster went silent, eyes narrowing to stormy slits.

“My-my birthday, that means it’s the anniversary of—”

“I know what it means, sweet. I’m only trying to understand why I’m only learning of it now.” 

“Because I don’t like celebrating it,” you grumbled, struggling to pull the heavy bedcover over you once more.

“This is a day of celebration! A revel! We should be feasting and drinking, games and dancing and…” 

Jack’s eyes narrowed again, and you could almost see the wheels turning in his mind, the calculation of days, the time of year he’d stood with you beneath the lightning tree. You sighed. Memory truly was a burden. “You were away last year,” you supplied, squeaking when he pinned you.

His eyes were a swirling storm: grey and blue, shot through with a flare of light, and his fangs glinted as he glared down. “This is my favorite day, sweet.”

It was strange, you reflected...you’d always loved the vernal season with its snowdrops and fresh shoots of green, soft spring rain and fair afternoons, fledgling birds and lambs at every farmstead, a promise that the earth was returning to life after her cold winter slumber; and the autumnal months as well—spiced cider and neeps swimming in butter, bonfires and wood smoke and the crunch of leaves, crisp air that held just a whisper of the cold to come. You’d disliked the seasonal extremes, dreaded the icy stasis of the brumal months and the increased workload of summer’s markets, preferring the rosy in-betweens.

Now you knew better.

You longed for the dead of winter, drifts of snow and ice and gloom; for the high sun of the summer months, despite your fair skin; for mornings spent in the garden, your cuticles permanently crusted with black earth as you harvested your herbs, and long afternoons at the market table.

 It was a time when the Unseelie Court held no sway over the world—your mischievous husband would lose a bit of his sparkle, but also a touch of his venom, and most importantly: the childlike queen with the crystal laughter and her most beloved consort were absent, and the forest path was clear. You could return to the tree-shaded paths together and watch the holly nymphs dance in the moonlight; you would feel sharp claws at your waist and the flick of a whip-thin tail against your back, and you couldn't wait to walk hand-in-hand through the wood…

But you would miss this Jack as well. Easily excitable, full of pique and hubris and amusement, always unpredictable. You didn’t have a favorite Jack, you considered.

“What happens when I grow older?” you blurted as he gripped your wrists, high forehead creasing. “Will you remember this version of me when I’m gone? Does it even matter who I am?”

You hadn’t planned on tears, but they made an appearance despite your wishes as you were rolled, pressed to his chest once more.

“This day is a celebration of you,” he murmured into your hair. “I remember each and every one of you, sweet, and I love each of you. Haven’t I always taken excellent care of you?”

“But-”

“It doesn’t matter who you are because you’re always you, pet. You always have the same fire, the same spark...you never change. You always follow the light into the wood. Now...how are we celebrating such an important day?”

“We’re doing it,” you mumbled stubbornly, ignoring his chuckle. “I don't want to dance or feast, and I’ve seen what happens at your revels.”

He hummed, tapping your nose and tugging your curls. “Fine then. But the post revel celebration belongs to me, and we do what I want.” You smiled, knowing by hook or by crook, he would get his way, and if you didn't want to be tricked, it was easier to agree. 

You were left alone when he vaulted form the bed, moving with unnatural fae speed, returning a moment later with a small spice cake bearing a single candle. “You can’t go to bed without making a wish,” he announced, “and on the morrow, I’m in charge.”

You would find out tomorrow, you supposed, what the post-revel celebration would be.

[dylanxmin]

kisses down low | knj

pairing; kim namjoon x reader

genre; smut, slight fluff, slight angst

rating; m

warnings; oral (m&f), orgasm denial, unprotected sex (pls wrap that), choking with tool, dom!namjoon, sub!reader, pet names, daddy kink, mostly kinks, aftercare, slight soft namjoon,

word count; 4.2k

summary; namjoon didn’t touch you for days, and you had enough,,

a/n; well,,,,, yes. enjoy reading it? shhshs seriously, thank you for reading, hope it’s good enough for you to enjoy it. love y’all ♡

A shiver takes it's place down on your spine, with the touch of your fingertips to the smooth black belt. You didn’t know if it’s okay to do this, daring it, but you had enough. 

You have never been this needy in years, as Namjoon always had his hands on you, in you. With many other things. 

But, you had enough for these past four days. He didn’t look at you, even with the corner of his eyes. You had no idea how did he manage to stay away from you or simply not bending you over anywhere on your house and fuck you till your vision go black. 

Yes, that’s how bad you want him, need him. 

So you didn’t know or didn’t even care if it’s okay to take one of his belts (the thickest one, of course), and kneeling in front of the door, where he could easily see you when he enters to his office. 

You made a ponytail, his favorite way. Easy to grab, as he said before. Kneeling in front of the door with your cherry top, and matching panties, the belt in your hand. 

Thinking how would he react after seeing you this desperate, this needy for him was enough to damp your pantie, but not completely enough. 

You couldn’t touch yourself for these past days, as it's forbidden for you to touch yourself without his permission. So, this venomous lust grows big inside of you. 

You didn’t know why he didn’t touch you for days, even though you had implied it many times, by grinding on him, touching him at the very favorite spot of you, while before you two sleep. But he didn’t do anything, even when you joined him in the shower. 

You thought he was getting sick of you, not loves you anymore. This idea made your heart grow sick for days, you even cried at the bathroom, while he was working in his office, right in here, where you kneeling at the moment. 

Your knees start to feel uncomfortable, but even this made your lust go crazy, panties getting wetter. You did almost drip on the light brown carpet, as the image of him, tying you with his belt, bending you on his table, and slapping your ass until it goes purple...

Sweet Lady Gaga... You could reach your end only by thinking about his hardened long cock, but you prefer to feel it in you. 

Voice of the door, made your heart go wild, longing stirring up on your stomach. You almost feel dizzy when a pair of shoes appear on your sight. Familiar pointed, dark shoes. Your mouth watered when the memory of you licking these particular shoes, even that was from your post-training days. Oddly, part of you liked doing that. 

You wait for him to care your hair, saying sweet words to you for being this good, waiting for daddy to come home on your knees, holding your head down, and being this patient. 

But, did you wait for him to pass you to reach his desk, and getting comfy on his chair? Well, hell no! 

You could catch what he is doing, as voices giving you the hint. A small squeak leaves his chair, when he lays back, opening his bag to reach his files. You know him so damn well, even without placing a glance on him, and for this particular reason, you also knew that he was doing it to test you. 

Little did he know that you were so determined to take that dick down to your throat until your chin goes sore. Two can play this game, and you decided to win. 

You did wait. 

You did wait, and wait while your knees ache in pain, ass hurting because of sitting on your shoes. And, panties soak in wet due to your drips. Waiting makes this hotter and titillating for you. Hearing him working, soft groans slipping away from his lips, when he gets irritated by the things he sees on papers, made it ten times harder for you to wait, but you manage to wait. Until his voice reaches your ears. 

“Are you okay with waiting on there, baby?” a sound leaves his chair once more, as he fixes his posture. “I could see you dripping on my pretty expensive carpet, baby. If you want me to heal your aching core, you should earn it.” 

You try to hold yourself from shivering, but couldn’t manage it properly. Namjoon’s dim but threatening chuckles hint you that he is aware of how his words affects you. You only hoped that he wouldn’t punish you more for couldn’t staying still. 

“Come here baby girl, and let me see if you can distract me from working. Then, I’ll think about praising you, huh?” 

Your mouth starts watering once again with the idea of tasting his warm cock in your mouth. You couldn’t help but let a light chuckle. But your chuckles fade when you try to stand on your feet. Sharp stings appeared on your knees, you had hard times with getting up, but even this can’t stop you from reaching your paradise.

Once your eyes land on your boyfriend, who you desired the most in this world, who’s looking hella hot, your walls clenched on nothing. Emptiness provoked your lust even more. 

His freshly cut dark brown hair, laying in front of your eyes, untamed. Lips wide shut, and tongue pressing one of his cheeks from inside, while dimples that make him look soft, nowhere to seen at the moment. Just his wicked gaze and his merciless hands, patting his thighs to make you aware of what he wants. 

You take your familiar pose in front of him, getting on your knees between him and his desk, in the small space where you could fit easily, while he pushes you deeper in there with his knees. 

Luckily, you didn’t have claustrophobia. To be honest, with these sinful needs inside of you, you doubt if you’d care about any of your phobias.

Without giving you any response, he focused on his papers once again. It’s only deepened your eagerness to make him want you, the way you want him. The way you need him. While your trembling hands find his zipper, you had one goal on your mind. Hearing his moans, and praises. 

You need it. 

After unzipping and releasing his semi-hardened member, you take his pants down with his boxer. Now you’re able to see him, without any obstacles. Your hand reaches to meet the hardening cock, the longest, thickest dick you ever seen. And you were being totally fair about him.

You moved your hand, up and down, giving him a little stroke. He was massive. The soft pink head of him, slightly thicker from the rest. It just feels like it’s made for you, filling you well. 

After wiggling your hips, licking your lips to make them wet, you opened your mouth to touch him with your tongue. You know that he likes your kitty licks, circling your tongue around the top of him. So, you did. 

For taking it slow, you only take care of the head. Tongue circling, twisting around there, while lips sucking. He didn’t moan, but you could feel his thighs go tightened under your hands. 

He didn’t moan, yet. 

Taking your time, you include your cheeks for the top, curling your tongue while your cheeks holding his cock tightly. Only the tip. Maybe for making him understand how you feel by taking it slow, or maybe you did want to be punished for torturing him like that. Maybe for both, you didn’t touch him or take him deep even though you desperately want. 

“Ss-shit!” his hand reach down to your ponytail, pulling you back while getting back on his chair. “You think you can play with Daddy? You think I would let that, doll?” 

You couldn’t dare to look at his eyes, but he pulled your hair down to face your eyes. Lethal. Everything about him was lethal. His daunting gaze, bloodcurdling smirk at the corner of his lips, only send shivers to your spine. You know you shouldn’t try to reach up to his cock, but your greedy mouth wants more of him. And, not only your mouth. 

“Up.” you didn’t need any other command to do what he says. You curled out from the small space where he locked you with his bottom part, you get up while his hand still staying on your hair. Navigating you. 

“We did forget something, don’t we?” he teased, and your eyes drop to his desk, on the dark, thick belt. A smile occurred on the corner of your lips, as you know that this is the time where he would tie you up, and bring alive your shady dreams. Your body moves without your permission, pushing your wrists up, as you get used to doing this. 

“It’s not gonna be this easy, baby girl. You pushed Daddy too much,” he warns, bizarre smirk still stands on his lips. 

You gulped, familiar shiver takes it’s place to your spine. You didn’t know what to do, or what to say. Staying still while your hands hanging in front of your stomach, hesitating to look at him on the eyes. 

“Turn around,” his voice always stays simple, steady while commanding you, and this is one of the favorite thing you like about him. As it’s tormenting your hunger, made it go higher. 

After you turn around, listen him like a good girl, the way you have to be, you heard the little metal sound from the belt. Sudden joy starts to fill in you, waken your craving. You didn’t know what he was up to, but you want to learn it, desperately. 

''Tell me if it's too much,'' he adds before you feel the cold metal around your neck. You quiver under the touch of his fingertips, teasing your skin while adjusting the belt around your neck. Your pulse starts to throb on the skin where belt cover, tightly. A bolt of delight run through your body, it felt so frightening, yet so good. 

''Is it good, princess?'' his breaths lick through your neck, sending a shiver to your aroused nook. You nod your head, but it wasn't enough for him, as he pulls the belt, making you choke on your air a little. 

''Words, princess. Daddy needs words,'' he warns, and your mouth opens before you could even adjust your breath. 

''Good. It- is good, daddy.'' 

''Then, you could turn back,'' the joy in his voice is now clouded by his threatening tone. Namjoon did try new things on you, a couple of things, still, your heart hammering with excitement, your longing firing up with the idea of testing this new adventure. 

You turn your back without hesitating, even though your hands shaking greedily. You did want to touch him, taste his precum once again on your tongue, down to your throat. But, you wait until he says something, didn't want to lose this chance to have him in you, finally. 

You get on your knees after he sits on his chair, pulling by the belt. You did like the feeling of the belt giving you around your neck, a slight feeling of choking. It tempts your hunger, soaking your panties even more. 

''Now, be a good girl, and don't even try to tease doll.'' he said in a soothing tone, but you did know what happens if you don't obey. So, you choose to play by his rules to achieve your sweet end. 

Familiar ache on your knees rises once again when you kneeled before him, licking your lips, taking your time to watch the view in front of you. 

''You like what you see?'' he grins, but he already knew that you like what you see, adore even. 

You choose to take his tip, rather than giving him an answer with words. You poke the down side of his dick with your tongue, all the way down, circling, pressing your tongue on him. Taking your head back, lips cover his tip, sucking and putting kitten licks. 

''G-good girl,'' he moans, and you feel proud, feel happy that you make him feel good. Before you could make a move to take him deep, the belt gets tighten around your neck and pulls you sharply to take him. 

You choke around him, both because of the sudden move and the belt. His hand directs you on how to move with the help of the belt. Pulling you when he wants you to take him deep and loosen the belt when it's too much for you. As he understands the way you sound around him, gagging and moaning. 

''Is it too much for baby girl? Is Daddy push you too much?'' he doesn't stop while asking, making you gag around him while you take him deep down to your throat. 

''Imm..- nnh,'' you can't give a proper answer, but it's enough for him. He loosens the tight grip of his hand on the belt, gives you a time to adjust yourself and take a breath. You feel your salvia dripping by your mouth, mascara ruined by your tears. You didn't need a mirror to understand how fucked up you look. 

''You okay, princess?'' his thumb caresses your cheek, eyebrows raised. 

Namjoon knows how to ensure the balance while ruling over you. He always knew what you like and what you’re capable of. Of course, he had done things to you that you could only dream, but always kept it safe for you. Overcome your limits patiently and slowly. 

''Hmm, I'm okay, Daddy,'' you say breathlessly, chest still touching his knees while you are breathing. He wipes your mouth by his fingers, before pulling you up, placing you between his legs, bare ass of yours touching the side of his desk. 

Your heart bouncing inside of your chest, you try not to moan because of the new view. How did he look so fatal under you, even while you are above him. His toxic gaze looks more deadly now. You bite your bottom lip to prevent your whimper. He was so lascivious. 

''Lean on your back, and spread these legs for me, baby,'' he demands, smirking under his threatening gaze. 

''Y-yes Daddy,'' you sit on the desk, open your shivering legs, shoving your needy part to him, panties soaked in your arousal. 

His finger teases, slid between in your legs, touching you under the panties. You gasp, clenching corner of the wooden desk, as you were craving this touch for days. 

''Look how wet and needy for me. You are a cock slut for daddy, huh?'' he slid his finger once again, around your lower lips, teasing with the slightest touch. 

''Hmm, Daddy...'' you whine in need. His grim words made you even more hungry, needier. Your walls clunch on nothing, core aching with desire. You need his fingers, his tongue, and his dick inside of you. 

''Do you want daddy's fingers inside, baby girl? Do you want me to heal the ache?'' his eyes find yours. Fuck! He looked so good between in your legs, yet, so dangerous. 

''Y.. yes, please,'' you cry out, head falls back after his tongue touches you under your panties. Please stop teasing, please. You had no strength in you for this game. You needed him hard, and now.  

''Delicious,'' he whispers after pulling your panties aside, enjoying the view under his sight. His breaths torturing by hitting your dripping arousal, sending a shiver down your spine. 

Your whole body burning with desire, chest goes up and down with your quick breaths. His finger tease inside of your thigh, putting little kisses over the line, where he chases with his finger, taking a track. It was overwhelming for you to stand, preventing yourself from pushing your hips to his mouth. But you did know how he would get annoyed by this kind of a bratty attitude, so you stay there, waiting for the torture end. 

''Now, you're going to stay still... and not gonna cum... until I say so. Do you understand, doll?'' when his thumb finds your clit, and rubs it after each word while giving little pauses, building your gluttony on your stomach.  

''Y-yes,'' you whimper with the sudden affection. Belt getting tighter around your neck, pulled by him. ''Dad-daddy. Yes-nnmh, Daddy,'' you choke under your breaths, but after you say the right thing, his hand frees you a little. 

''Good,'' he says in appreciation. 

Then, his fingers slid through your lips, open them wide, breaths of him still tormenting you. One of his fingers lingering around your entry, driving you crazy. Lips still putting soft kisses on your thigh. 

''Namjoon-ah, ple-ahh fuck!'' before you could finish your words, his finger dives in you, slightly stretching you. Your walls clench around his finger immediately, but it's not enough to ease your cravings. Yet, after days, you were grateful for this. 

''If you be a good girl, I'll add another,'' his voice was seductive by itself, you could reach your end only by hearing his dirty words and his praises. So, you just nod your head with a little hmph. Your head still staying on back, hands clawing the desk more aggressively now. 

He adds another finger inside, scissoring them to stretching you, made you get ready for him. The third finger follows the other two, with his tongue. 

''Daddy!'' you let out the loudest moan, hurting your throat after his tongue finds your clit, abusing there. His lips turn into a smirk on your skin, fingers reaming roughly. You could hear your wetness each time he moves his fingers. 

His lips sucking, twitching your clit, pushing you to your edge. Your legs start to shake violently and even though you know that Namjoon didn't let you cum, you couldn't find your strength to resist.

''I'm gon-na cum,'' you could barely let those words, but his fingers won't stop. 

''I don't think I let you do that, slut,'' his fingers still thrust in you while he pulling the belt. ''Hold it,'' he commands. 

''I-hh.. can't,'' with his fingers inside, belt choking you, it's impossible for you to hold your climax. Your whole body shaking while your ending builds in your stomach, you try to hold yourself from dripping but it's impossible. 

''Daddy, p-please. I cannmp-'' you try to touch his sweet spot by begging, and make him pity you, maybe he would stop torturing you. One drip of your arousal slide through, but before you could reach your climax, he pulls his finger, leaving you with great agony that caused by the emptiness. Core aching with the sudden vacancy, walls clenching on nothing once more. 

''If you are not gonna listen to me, there is no pleasure for you,'' he hisses while holding you close to his face by pulling you with his belt. He gets up and stands inches away from your face. 

''But... I'm sorry, Joonie,'' you sob, while he looks at you with a taunting gaze. 

''Now, Daddy is gonna play with you, and teach you how to obey his words, yeah?'' his fingers find your wounded clit once again, and you hiss at the feeling of it. Remaining of the arousal stirring up, after his fingers start to move. 

Without waisting a minute, your legs start to tremble around his body, and you let out a big whine, head falls back again. 

''Not yet,'' he warns, while his fingers dive in you, and thumb replacing under your clit. 

You felt your climax arriving soon, you start to beg, without knowing what for. Your breath cut by his belt once again, right before your climax hits you. But, Namjoon knew your body well enough to take his fingers from you, at the right time. 

''Joonie,'' you cry out with frustration, overwhelmed by the feeling of your arousal taking from you. 

''You're taking your punishment so well, baby,'' he soothes you, puts a light kiss under your chin. ''Again,'' 

You whine, try to run from his grip, but he holds you tight on the belt. And he starts your punishment once again, building your climax, and ruins it by taking his hand from you. Three times, four times and until he decides it's enough. 

''Such a good girl for me,'' he says after stealing your arousal from you, once again. You didn't even realize you were crying until he wipes the tears from your cheeks, kisses under them. 

''Can you say the color, doll?'' he pats your hair, eyes searching through your face in case you are not okay. 

You lick your lips, taking a deep breath before answering, as you needed a minute from this stimulation. After you take your time, you look at his eyes, waiting for you to adjust yourself. 

''Green,'' you reassured him, smiling softly. His brows released after hearing you were okay., hand cups your cheek to kiss you on the lips. Soothing kiss, made your aches go away, but not eased your craving. 

''Can you take more or is it too much for you, baby?'' he asks while caring your hair, eyes of him filled with worry, even though you said green. His caring side appears on the times like this, he would get anxious that he hurt you or will hurt you. Even though you reassure him every time that you're okay.  

''I want more, Joonie,'' you claimed, hands pulling him into a kiss. Yes, you feel too sensitive for a minute, but you couldn't stop now, not this time. You feel lost in lust, craving him. 

''If so, turn around, princess,'' he helps you to get off from the desk, turning your back on him, putting your hands on the desk to carry yourself. 

His hands open your legs, bending you the way he wants, the way he takes you easily. Smooth hands of him, touches once again on your cunt, and you shiver under his touch. His fingers ponds in you to stretch you once before he replaces them with his dick. Your nails dig into the wooden desk, you need to grab something, as you feel too sensitive under his touch. 

The tip of his dick finds your entrance, grinds on your walls before diving in completely. Your try to clench on him, whining in need. He teased you so much this time, and you waited too long. You wanted to soothe by his huge dick in you, thrusting until he reaches your g-spot, without stopping. 

And when he bottoms you up, tip of him stretching your walls to get you used to the feeling, you gasp, biting the back of your hand. 

''Oh, shit. So tight, so good for me,'' he prases, adjusting himself on your back. ''all wet and warm, just for the Daddy,'' he says while thrusting in you. 

Slow poundings leave its place to wild ones, filling you with his warm cock. You let out a sob, feel happy that finally being filled by him. His fingers dig into your flesh, probably going to leave lots of marks on there, but you didn't care. 

Voices of flesh hitting on a flesh fills the room, side by your moans. His names dripping from your lips, as he continues his hammering inside of you. 

''Dadd-y, oh fuck!'' you cried out when he touches your sweet spot, gives you the very best feeling of euphoria. 

''You like to be fucked by Daddy? Do you like to take Daddy's cock, deep?'' he fastens his moves on your back, getting you closer on your edge. 

''Yes, I love Daddy's cock deep inside of me,'' you mewl under his ruthless slams, sight getting white as you roll your eyes to the back of your head in amusement. ''I-m close, Joonie!'' 

''Cum around my cock, baby,'' he pants above you while quickening his moves, touching your g-spot with every thrust, getting you close on your euphoria. 

The belt getting tight around your neck was your last drop to reach your climax, struggling for breath made you squirt around him, while your body shaking harshly under him. You cry out his name while cumming around him, legs feel like jello under his touch. 

''Shit! This is so hot, Y/N,'' he moans without stopping, seeking his own pleasure while thrusting in you, remorselessly. 

Your hand tries to find something to hold on but fails, nails stay under the desk. 

''I'm close, princess,'' he gasps between his pounds. Twitching inside of you. Your second orgasm starts to build in you after he said your name that erotically. You feel that you're getting close with every poke. 

''Namjoon, please cum inside of me, fill me up with your seeds,'' your words were the last drop for him to reach his own climax. Thrusts getting sloppier, dick twitching inside. 

Belt getting tightens around your neck one last time, while his cum fills you to meet with yours. You gasp for breath while dripping around him, feeling his warm cum inside, filling you well. 

''C'mere,'' he holds you by the waist after taking his dick, embraces you before heading to the bathroom. ''You'll like to have a warm bath, right?'' he says to your ears. Hands start to brush your hair, soothing you after that intense case. 

You feel lazy, sleepy after cumming for two times. His caring words nothing but a blurry whisper to you, already taken by the sleep under his hug. You stopped trying to stay awake, rather, let yourself sleep. 

''Sweet nights,'' you could choose these simple words, and the kiss he puts on your forehead. You felt relaxed and happy. Your sinful ache had passed anyway.  

[wlw-lovestruck-fiction]

Can I request a fic for Onyx/MC involving Onyx's pregnancy cravings?

Brief warnings of past abuse.  Implied past miscarriage.  SPOILERS FOR ROUTE.

Written by: @evoedbd Craving

It was midday when Onyx emerged from her bedroom, all bright smiles and twinkling eyes. The sunlight played across her platinum hair, causing the soft, meadow green streaks to glisten like freshly growing life. Much like the life within her. Just a few months in and Onyx had taken to pregnancy as she took to everything. Gracefully. Beautifully. With the support of her family, the Assassins, Onyx was thus far cruising through the trimester. Sure, morning sickness was an absolute bitch, but with Cali holding her hair back every morning it wasn’t so bad. And not being able to drink copious amounts of alcohol was playing some havoc on her, but Wrath’s baking, Malakai’s uncanny ability to sniff out the best milkshakes, and Darius bringing home endless snacks and magazines from undisclosed locations more than made up for that. Even shopping with Ripley was fun, finding new clothes and materials to replace her dwindling wardrobe. Cal and Avi were horrible influences on her baby collection, both constantly accompanying her to the toy stores and bookshops. Cal had even bought a tiny little guitar, one which Avi was beginning to practice lullabies on. It was enough to melt Onyx’s heart.

She padded across the common area towards the kitchen, barefoot in a pair of shorts, swaddled in a signature Tie-Dyed hoodie. One which was not part of her usual wardrobe. She couldn’t help it. The moment her eyes had cracked open it was like a string between her and the hoodie, a magnet pulling at every sense in her body until she surrendered. She couldn’t feel at ease until the unnaturally soft material was wrapped around her until the scratchiness of worn armpits and elbows chafed at her. Until she was surrounded by that scent. Of bike oils and sand, mixed with an unnamed element that made her heart sing in contentment. It smelt so fucking good, enough that she turned her head in burrow her nose into the hood and sniffed, inhaling as much of that scent into her lungs as she could. A hint of cherry blossom sent her into a moment of sheer bliss. The hoodie was just so good. So perfect. She didn’t even feel guilty about her theft, about leaving the current Envy assassin without a jacket. It wasn’t like Cali actually needed it half the time, she was hot enough, visually and literally if you asked Onyx, as it was.

Before she could make it to the kitchen, a soft sound caught her ear. A breath. Then it played again, stemming from the couches. Onyx couldn’t help but smile, pulling the hoodie just a little tighter around her shoulders before stumbling upon the controlled chaos.

The table was a mess, covered in stacks upon stacks of hand-drawn diagrams and crisply written notes. Writing Onyx could barely understand. It didn’t take a genius to recognise Cali’s flowing concoction of lines which were meant to replicate letters, something that likely would have fit in a med school. Each stack of papers had a name at the top, one for every member of the troupe. It took a few moments before Onyx was able to make out the notes scribbled across the pages, which only made her heart swell with joy. Across them were personalised notes, each a set of instructions regarding pregnancy. Notes to Cal to watch his snark if he wanted to keep his tongue. Demands for Darius to never comment on Onyx’s growing belly under any circumstances if he wanted to remain able to act on his lust, along with a sloppy sketch of some scissors. A gentle reminder that Malakai wasn’t allowed to squish Onyx with hugs, nor take her to packed clubs. Ripley had a whole page explaining that adding honey to everything did not make it suddenly magically healthy.

Quietly, Onyx read them all, her cheeks flushed at the evident care and dedication Cali had put into them. She snickered at notes, warmings such as “Do not squish Onyx, Biceps-sarama.” Or “Do not encourage Onyx to underdress as much as you!”. Eventually, her eyes drifted back to Wraths, specifically to one page marred with blocky letters underlined thrice.

NO PUTTING RAW FISH AND/OR ALCOHOL IN CUPCAKES UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES!!!

ALCOHOL + RAW FISH = NOT CUPCAKE FILLINGS

Onyx couldn’t help but laugh, dabbing at her eyes as delighted tears began to fall. Cali’s passive-aggressive notes and demanding were positively endearing, especially knowing how apologetic Cali was likely to be in person about them. Truthfully, the threats were comedic coming from the second shortest assassin. Especially for the vision laid out before Onyx.

There was Cali, sound asleep across the couch, twisted, exposed skin glowing a faint, washed-out brass in the sunlight.

Her bare feet were kicked out over the arm of the couch, a toe or two bent from repeated breaks, heel and balls of her feet callused from the blisters she’d earned riding the canyons. One chipped toenail, from a sparring accident, taunted Onyx’s inner fashionista. Made her itch to buff it out. It was only the blues and purples forming beneath the nail which gave her pause; colours which littered the fine skin across Cali’s shins, up to a spectacularly scuffed up knee. All the little sun worn scars mixed with the fresh graze, a tapestry of her determination. Mental and physical strength, which showed in the relaxed definition of her thighs. Legs which allowed Cali to balance her bike wheels upon the finest wires, let the woman flip with Onyx and play games of chase in the skies. The closest thing to wings a human could have. Twisted as she was, the waistband of her denim shorts rode low, hanging enough to expose the band of her underwear off a sharp hipbone. Low enough for Onyx to have a glimpse of strong core muscles before the simple grey shirt concealed Cali’s ribcage. Bones that could be felt, yet not actively seen. Onyx let her gaze travel slowly, taking in every bump and bruise across Cali’s muscled shoulders. That sent a bolt of pride through the dragon of the Envy Trio. Cali’s muscles had grown since they’d first met, and that growth was directly tied to Onyx’s training. To Cali wanting to stride alongside the small bombshell. Cali had grown stronger to support Onyx. To be there for Onyx. How could Onyx not let herself look? Even if it was for just a few moments? How could she feel anything but pride and admiration for the definition she was the reason for?

She didn’t even realise that she’d been literally purring until her rumbling seemed to wake the sleeping woman. Even before those deep, dark eyes opened, Cali’s lips peeled into a small smile; the meaning of radiance, like a beam of sunlight through the clouds.

“Onyx… you’re purring.” Cali noted softly, as if her sleep husky voice might disturb the quiet. Onyx swallowed. Shuddered. The rasp added to Cali’s usually sweet voice, the weight to the tones, it was unexpectedly appealing. A siren’s song calling Onyx to sleep. A tease. No… not a tease. A promise. An eventuality. An invitation. It was an invitation Onyx couldn’t resist. Cali had barely even moved her arms before they were full of a tie-dyed goddess, shielding her from the harsh world.

Onyx was a dragon, she had learned the depths of her fire in human death, thought she had understood warmth. Yet, Cali once more proved her a fool. The mystery of how Cali’s arms could accomplish a warmth that burning stone could not was beyond all science, magical and mortal. It was beyond reason and madness both. It consumed without destroying, converting fear and shame into courage and pride. It was love, a treasure beyond anything Onyx had comprehended feeling as a human, let alone as a Dragon. A simple hug, delivered in such a sleepy manner had Onyx cooing in bliss, wiggling her smaller frame into the scoop of Cali’s body. A perfect fit. Something written into the heavens, woven on looms of fate, carved by Hephaestus. Something so perfect couldn’t be an accident, no way in any hells could anything convince Onyx that Cali hadn’t been created for her. To protect and love, to offer that in return. Gods, Cali did that so well. This compassionate hurricane of a woman was a shield against the world when Onyx needed shelter. Water when Onyx had dehydrated herself shedding tears for a man who mistreated her. Yet, Cali was not immovable. She cried, she cowered and screamed in fear at times. She was fearless, showing every emotion so plainly, each a little slither of starlight Onyx greedily claimed. Cali, the saviour of Onyx’s soul, was also the greatest treasure to protect. It was befuddling how someone could be strong enough to not only need to protect, but admit they needed protecting.

“Are you hungry?” Cali questioned softly. Onyx simply let a content purr escape her, snuggling deeper into that unique warmth. Honestly, she could eat, but that wasn’t what she needed that very minute. Somehow the combined scent of oil, sweat and cherry blossom was making her entire world creep closer and closer to a standstill. Each blissful inhale had her senses settling, body relaxing in a way nothing could ever accomplish. Not a lovely bath. Not an exhausting night of lust, even with Lust’s friends. A hug. Her world boiled down to a hug… and that playful nudge to her cheek.

“I could probably fry some bacon in chocolate sauce. Maybe add some fried pickles in that Raspberry ice cream you’ve been loving the past few weeks.” This time, Cali’s suggestions earned an actual groan. Whether delight or disgust, even Onyx didn’t know. Her face had screwed up, nostrils flaring as she burrowed her forehead into side of Cali’s neck. Warm. Soothing. Dragging her back towards a land of bliss… disrupted bliss.

Onyx almost whined in frustration, comfort turning overbearing within a blink of an eye. That voice. Cali’s goddamn voice. Onyx couldn’t tell if she wanted to fall asleep to the melody, stay awake to listen as she ate every ungodly concoction her body craved or try to make Cali’s voice break with less wholesome things than snuggling. It was pulling at her, dragging her in a thousand directions until she was more frayed than the hem of Cali’s jean shorts. Loose threads Onyx realised she was twirling her fingers though. Each movement had her fingers brushing across Cali’s rich skin, dancing across the defined grooves of muscle… another realisation. Cali was flexing. No, not just flexing. She was giggling. Laughing. Shoulders shaking beneath Onyx’s torso.

“If you want to be ready to tell the others, I’m not on the menu.” She teased; her voice disappointingly clearer. Sleep had lifted, taking that romanticised rasp. Even without the gravely nature to her voice, Cali’s voice was a Siren’s song. One luring Onyx’s focus from one appetite to another. Touch reminded her of her warmed body, then voice lured her out of the beginnings of lust, back towards practicality.

“We could order Sushi.” Onyx finally suggested, cursing how her cheeks flared at the twitch of Cali’s lips. Indulgent. Admiring. Again, Onyx sighed blissfully, letting herself sink back into the welcomed embrace. Her fingers wove through Cali’s, thumb skimming the ring Cali proudly wore. The layers of twisted metal.

“The chocolate sauce is in the fridge. Or I could melt some dark chocolate.” Cali’s offer was so genuine, so utterly casual Onyx almost forgot how disgusting fish and chocolate was to anybody who wasn’t pregnant or deranged. When Onyx paused to think on it, she was sure even the most dangerous of lunatics would flee the usually vile combination. Not Cali. Every single time, Cali braved it. With a bright smile, she’d bathe her shrimp or raw fish in chocolate sauce right alongside Onyx. When the stares became too much, there was Cali, loudly proclaiming her love for the combination. Making such a spectacle of herself that Onyx’s weird cravings were forgotten.

Cali was so different to Dorran. Cali was there, eating every lunatic concoction fearlessly, ensuring it wasn’t lethal. Even going as far as to make the other trope members taste test everything before allowing Onyx to eat it. Where Dorran had tried to drown it out, Cali drowned in Onyx’s pregnancy. She made Onyx the centre of her world, of her galaxy even. Everything had Cali’s support, her enthusiasm. Even the rare arguments when Onyx felt a little too babied, which never lasted long when she heard the genuine fear in Cali’s voice. The agony held within two little words. One single line.

You died.

In that line, Onyx saw how broken Cali could become. Just how deeply their bond ran in their veins. That. Perhaps it was that intimacy Onyx craved the most. Cali, no matter how, was the only constant Onyx clung to. From her scent, to her warmth, to her voice. Her touch. Onyx never realised that cravings could be more than food, could be so consuming and subtle. Contradicting and complimentary. For so long, validation had been her desire. For somebody, anybody, to care for her as if she was worthy of it. When she’d kissed that girl in the Casino to distract a crowd, she’d never believed her deepest cravings would be sated. Yet here she was. Here they were. Just beginning to learn the true meaning of craving.

[blueluneacy]

Tears of the Abandoned

I made a kars/reader. Bc I could. Fucking enjoy

Warnings: kars wins Au, yandere, major character death, literal genocide, just general nastiness, blood, biting

You had been in the mountains for days. You were starting to wonder if all of this talk or a temple out here was a myth. Maybe it was all just supposed to be a legend for people like you to get lost in the mountains, unable to find any piece of hope. But you had to try, you had to. There was nothing else you could do.

You knew that there would be no one left there, Straizo had made sure of that, the sick bastard. But you hoped, prayed even, that there was some texts remaining there, anything to try and get information on how to defeat the menace that had come over your world. Joseph never returned after Kars became the Ultimate Being. You could only assume the worst for him, for your friends. When you thought about it, you tried to hold back your tears, holding onto what your teacher, Lisa Lisa had told you, how for generations Hamon was taught out here, that there might be some sort of hope to kill what was essentially unkillable, and now taking over the earth. It was hard to run from someone so powerful, but your head start was certainly helpful. You silently thanked Joseph for keeping Kars busy for so long that you were able to get out of there, to start your journey across the world. You had no doubt that Kars was after you, hoping to snuff you out like he had done to the rest of your friends. The last Hamon user, and it was someone as pitiful as you. That had to be the most pathetic thing you’ve ever heard.

But still, you had something on your side, and that was your own stubbornness. If you gave up, the world didn’t have any more hope. You loathed to think about what was happening to humanity now that it was in the care of that monster, about what this world would become if you didn’t figure out a way to stop him, and quick. So, you kept walking, kept following the river in hopes of finding it. Trying to keep your mind off the guilt you felt, the responsibility in your mind you knew you didn’t bear but your heart sang was yours. You tried not to think about Kars, about how his eyes always pierced into his soul, how when he first saw you with Caesar and JoJo, he merely licked his lips as if looking at the most delightful snack. How when the two of you fought, his words were confident, teasing as he always easily defeated you. Even with whatever you could scrap together from the temple, would it be enough? You couldn’t even go toe to toe with the Pillarman before. Now look at you. Alone in the wilderness, hungry and tired. It was hard not to think about it all. About the hopelessness that threatened to creep into your heart, to give up and let yourself give into whatever this new world order was going to be.

But all those thoughts were set aside as you saw a building in the distance, your voice catching in your thought. Finally, finally after all this time, days of being on edge, wondering if even sleeping was safe for fear that you would wake up with teeth ripping out your throat, you were here. You practically bolted over to the temple, uncaring of the footprints you had been so careful to hide before. You smiled as you saw the stone, the wonderful sight leaving unwarranted joy to sprout up in your chest. It had to be here, it had to be! As you got to the doorway, seeing how plants had weaved their way into the stone, a pang in realizing the signs of disuse. You kept moving, setting your things down as you took a moment to take a deep breath. On one hand, it sounded wonderful to rest for a moment, to look for food and get to recovering from your journey. On the other, you were running on stolen time as it is. No doubt was Kars looking for you, and finding this place would just be the cherry on top to him. You needed to find what you needed and get out of here, for the sake of the world. It dimly occurred to you that since you were the only one left, technically it would be your responsibility to train the next generation of Hamon users. Man, either way, the world really was fucked.

You treaded lightly, as to not disturb the dust too much, looking through the building. Your hope started to drain as you barely found anything, just the remnants of people who used to live here. Plates, old clothes, but not one scrap of paper. It was like someone had specifically tried to get rid of… Oh no. The realization dawned on you as you began to tear through the temple, hoping to find something, anything, that when Straizo destroyed most of the Hamon users, he didn’t destroy their knowledge with them. You found a doorway that seemed to be locked, leaving you to almost cry out in frustration, banging on the door until finally you gave in and gave it a sharp Hamon kick to knock the damn thing down. When you saw what was inside though, you wanted to wail.

Ash. The room was covered in ash, scraps of paper that were once part of books now nothing but tinder. Everything, it was all gone. The knowledge of generations, destroyed and lost forever. Ancient techniques with any hope of you finding a way to defeat the Ultimate Being now destroyed, you couldn’t help but fall to your knees…. And just sob. All this, all the sacrifices made. The way Caesar gave his life on his battle with Whamuu, the way Joseph and Lisa Lisa distracted Kars for you to get away in hopes that you would find something, anything, to save everyone… It was all gone. It was all for nothing. You cried, cried for everything that was gone, all because of him. All because of everyone, this toppling domino effect that you had the misfortune of being at the end of. The world really was cruel.

“I see that it’s gone. What a shame.” You tensed up as you heard the voice behind you, low and obviously satisfied as his piercing eyes tore through you, eating up your despair. You just swallowed, trying to pull yourself together. You knew that you were going to die, but you at least wanted there to be some sort of dignity in it. You would die like a warrior, not sniveling over what was lost.

“You’re faster than I thought. But would it kill you to knock before just barging in? I could’ve gotten ready and made us some tea.” You turned to face your enemy, this monster that threatened to ruin everything, who already had, in a way. You tried to ignore the puffiness of your eyes, already getting yourself ready for a fight. You knew you would lose, but it didn’t matter. At least, you might be able to see your friends soon.

“You’re already itching to fight? You should already know that it’s useless.” Kars told you, stepping forward into range of you. You growled, easily swinging your leg to hit him in the side with a sharp Hamon kick. Kars paused for a moment, simply grabbing your leg and gripping it tight, pulling your forward. You gasped and lost your balance, falling to the ground. You let out a yelp as your head hit the ground, your vision going just a little hazy as Kars took advantage of the moment, descending upon you and easily taking your wrists into one hand, pinning them above your head. It was like Kars just absorbed the blow, not even flinching at what you did. You tried to swallow back your fear, putting on a brave face.

“You’re stubborn, just like the rest. How poetic, the last Hamon user in the temple I once attempted to destroy thousands of years ago. There’s nothing left, nowhere left for you to run…” Kars purred into your ear, leaving you to gulp as his satisfaction from the ordeal didn’t feel simply like the satisfaction of defeating an enemy. Still, you let yourself grit your teeth, squirming and growling back at the terrible thing.

“I won’t be the last Hamon user. I know someone out there, somehow, will know how to defeat you. They will avenge me. They’ll avenge all of us, and most importantly, destroy you.” You replied, vitriol spilling out into your words. Kars just stopped, thinking about your words, before laughing heartily at your declaration.

“Oh, you poor poor thing. You’ve been in the mountains so long that you haven’t seen the state of the world out there. How pathetic.” Kars chuckled, leaving you to swallow as your eyes went wide, trying to convince yourself that it was a lie, that he wanted you to wonder what he meant, wanted to snuff out the hope in your heart before he finally ended your life. He was toying with his prey, and yet you couldn’t help but still ask.

“What the hell are you talking about? What did you do?!” You tried to sound fierce, angry, but in the end all you sounded was desperate.

“Well, I didn’t do anything. It just became terribly difficult to control my army once victory was secured. You know how they are, wanting to bask in their victory. There are a few small pockets of humans left, of course, but… Well, they’ve fallen in line quite nicely.” Kars’ voice was sickeningly pleased, leaving you just to swallow. God, did they really… Oh god, in just that short of a time? You weren’t sure you could take on Kars, much less an army. God, oh god, oh god, there really was no hope left. Not for you, or for anyone else.

“I… I hate you. You sicken me. I’ll see you in hell one day, Kars, mark my words.” You growled, before resigning yourself to death, awaiting Kars’ witty comeback before he slit your throat. You tried not to tense up when his sharp teeth got close to your neck, but… His teeth never tore open your neck like you thought they would.

“Oh, my dear, I think there might be a misunderstanding. You aren’t going to die, not today.” He growled, before giving into temptation and letting his teeth sink into your neck, easily drinking from you as you cried out and squirmed, trying to break free from his grasp. Oh god, was he planning to turn you into a zombie? What irony would it be if you became a mindless puppet, unable to resist his commands for all eternity? You growled, looking for some way out of this mess, before realizing where exactly your leg was situated. Kars had slotted your legs between his own to try and hold you still, but as he lost himself in the taste of your blood, his hold on them loosened, giving you a severe edge. If this didn’t work, well, that was gonna suck, but if it did… Well, no one can say you never went down without a fight. It was now or never, Kars was relaxed as his tongue began to run over the wound on your neck, lapping up the excess blood he had missed. You swallowed, reared your leg back as best you could, and straight up kicked Kars in the dick.

He hissed out in pain, his grip loosening as he curled over, and it was enough for you to quickly wriggle free, quickly running out of the room. You heard Kars roar your name, and you knew that he wasn’t that far behind you. But, you had the advantage of being smaller, more nimble, and in a facility built by and for Hamon users. You had no doubt there would be some sort of hidden door in here, or something only unlocked by Hamon, something you knew that Kars wouldn’t be able to get through. Kars would be lumbering after you, much larger than you and having trouble getting through doorways. You kept on moving, gasping as you heard Kars’ heavy footsteps behind you, running down a flight of stairs. I mean, you couldn’t just go out into the wilderness, Kars would oh so easily be able to just fly over and pluck you up. But you knew that he would stay here until he found you, unless he thought you had somehow escaped. But for now, you just had to figure out a way to beat him, to at least be free of him for a moment, so you could collect all the information you had obtained in your brain and try to come up with a game plan. You just gulped, panicking as you heard Kars coming closer, far too close to be comfortable, before just… Going behind a cabinet. Was it the best hiding place? No. Was it the only option right now? Yeah.

You heard Kars pause when he reached the bottom of the staircase, looking around and actually… Humming, as if amused by all this.

“It was impressive that you were able to get past me like this, but this hiding place is just poor. Did you really never train here? No wonder your Hamon is so lacking. You were never meant to be a master, dear.” Kars’ voice was so matter of fact, leaving you to just grit your teeth. He was weaseling his way into one of your biggest insecurities, about how you were the weakest of your group, and you hated him for it.

“Always so determined and stubborn, but not even your teacher could defeat me. You have never been able to even land a solid blow on me before, though your attempts were always cute. But that’s over now. I’m willing to make you a deal, to give up a lot more in comparison than what you have to give.” He spoke smoothly, carefully. You could tell he was trying to keep his ears perked up, to listen closely in case you gasped or moved. But you kept still, kept listening, hoping that something, anything would happen for you to gain some sort of advantage.

“There’s a reason why you aren’t already dead where you stand, sweetling. You’re meant to be mine, to be by my side. I know deep down, you know that too. Everything that has happened has led up to this point. To when you finally give in to me.” You felt Kars lean against the cabinet you were behind, beginning to slowly crush you, and you just tried to keep your cool, to stop yourself from gasping out in pain. When it finally seemed like too much, that maybe you were finally going to die or at least cry out from it all, Kars cursed to himself.

“A window? How could I have not spotted that? Damn brat…” You heard him grumble and pull off the cabinet, walking over to the other side of the room. There was some rustling, before you heard him just grumble again and pull himself up, before the sound of feet in the snow seemed to make you calm down. You let out a small sigh, waiting just a few more minutes before you stepped out from behind the cabinet, looking around to make sure this wasn’t a trap. You began to walk up the stairs carefully, becoming more and more confident as you moved through the temple. When you finally walked past the library the two of you started at, you felt just a little confident as you began to walk to the entrance to grab your things and get out of here. You grinned as you got to your bag, pulling it over your shoulder and beginning to step out the door, only for a hand to grab the back of your neck and pull you back inside. If this were a cartoon, you’d probably make a squeaky toy sound.

“Did you really think your little game of hide and seek was going to keep you away from me?” Kars growled, his claws digging into you as he pulled your body against his, your back against his chest, his mouth against your ear as he tried to hold back his anger. “I have you in my grasp now, so I suggest you stop struggling.”

“No! Never, I’m never going to stop fighting you! You can’t just take me for some sick victory fantasy you have, I’d rather die!” You yelled, leaving Kars just to scoff as he held onto you tighter, lifting you up as you kicked and squirmed.

“Oh, you will. You don’t have any other choice unless you don’t care about those humans you love so much.” He practically spat into your ear, leaving you to freeze up in Kars’ arm, giving him ample time to adjust and pull you into a princess carry.

“Oh, I have your attention now, do I? How infuriating.” Kars dug his nails, more like claws with how sharp they were, into your side. “But still. You will do as I say, or else I will slaughter every single one of the remaining people on this earth, do you understand?” When he spoke, you couldn’t help but squirm again. This was probably selfish of you at this point, but he couldn’t be serious. Could he?

“L-Let me go, please! Don’t do this!” You cried, at the point of begging. You weren’t begging for your life, you would much rather die than be in the hands of Kars. But perhaps he knew that, and used the fact to torture you.

“Oh darling, I wish I didn’t have to work in ultimatums like this, but you’ve given me no choice. If you try to run away, I promise you. I will destroy every last one of them, and I will find you again and let you know exactly what you caused.” He told you, leaving you just to swallow. You knew that the look in his eyes was serious, deathly so. You began to relax, tears welling up in your eyes as you looked away. You bit them back, not wanting to give Kars the pleasure of seeing them, of how hopeless this world has become. Kars just smiled, pulling you closer as he began to walk off to who knows where, taking you to some corner of the Earth you would never be able to escape from, both from your own guilt and the looming threat over your head.

“Oh pet. You’ll learn to adore me the same way I adore you.” Kars told you, his voice softer, more gentle as he pet your hair. Without any other choice, you simply wrapped your arms around the man, watching as the temple slowly disappeared out of existence. “I’ll have them destroy that tomorrow evening. Now then…” Kars leaned in, letting his nose just graze against yours.

“Kiss me.” He was demanding, and you knew that there was no way you could resist. So you leaned in, letting your lips press against his, gasping as he nipped at your lip, only for him to take advantage and shove his tongue into your mouth. You whimpered and just let Kars do what he pleased, gasping when he finally pulled away. You could see the smug smirk on his face, so pleased in seeing you falling so far. You just buried your face into Kars’ chest, doing something, anything to hide from his prying eyes.

You wondered if he felt the tears that were falling from your eyes.

[its-chelisey-stuff]

Tale of the Nine Tailed ep 11, nonsense live commentary

Oh yes, now I remember we left it here. Time to meet Yeon, Imoogi.

This whole sequence is awesome omg this fight is exquisite 🤭

"It's like getting kicked out of an exam because you got caught using your phone"😂 is it?

How is that a reasonable offer, Imoogi?

"You saw them but failed to recognize them"?? Wtf is this true?

Wooo the red eyes make a comeback!

Omfg this is terrifying! All those people dying! Shit shit shit shit this bastard is crazy

What a piece of trash. So the president gave up exactly what he was trying to save in order to serve Imoogi? His whole family?! What the actual fuck?😱

Why do I feel like this sleeping potion will appear later?

Taluipa killed her daughter in law? Yikes😅

132 people?? Shit Imoogi. Chill.

Get the fuck away from Jiah's friends, you murderous psycho😤

Don't.Ever.Harm.Children. Kill that bastard, Rang 🙄

😂 Yeon just crashed Yuri&the vet's date

New sneakers 😭

"I like you" 😭

Yuri and the vet are babysitting haha

It's funny because both of them were in TKEM, he was Yeong as a kid and she was Yeong's gf

Omg this poor kid. This is why he was all over Seoul without adult supervision

My god this is how problems get resolved. by talking. Your otp could never i know most of mine can't lmao

No Rang, don't listen to him🤦🏻‍♀️

Is Jiah allowed to be in the afterlife office? It looks like she isn't lol

They have a plan! My OTP has a plan!! I LOVE THEM🥰🥳

There has to be a third option to free Jiah!

The ground cherries! Omg those awful things are her parents?

This dude just gave Yeon worms 😂

"Do you have a tail?"😂

And the sleeping potion appears again. Don't do it, Rang

Why didn't Yeon tell Jiah that Imoogi is working with her... Unless he doesn't know? Nah, no way. He knows.

Rang 😭😭💔 why are you like this? Why?!

Why is Jiah watching Imoogi like this? Omg Does she know who he is?

WHAT??!! WHAT THE FUCK? WHEN DID THEY CHANGE?

Awwww these two. 🥰 Best bros 4eva

Jiah is stalling him. She's making time. She totally knows.

Rang is free!!🥳

Wtf with that kiss on the hand? Get away you're gross.

Well, joke's on me. The parents are alive. I really thought they weren't. I'm happy for Jiah, though. I just hope they came back like...normal

Well. Was I the only one freaked out by that hand kiss? Because honestly ewww.

Man. What an episode. Seriously, I'm in shock still trying to process everything that happened and all the things that we learned. I seriously hope Yeon and Rang have fixed their issues finally. I was sure of it last week, but Rang's insecurity does get the best of him in the most crucial moments. Thank God that Yeon was able to recognize the signs and come up with a plan on time and now his brother is free.

Yeon and Jiah continue to be a delight and like the best example of a wonderful and functional non-toxic OTP in dramaland despite the genre and plot of the drama, their backgrounds, past lives (well, it's just a very long one for Yeon) and traumas. I'm not sure they're gonna end up being my favorite OTP of the year (i know i know, don't hate me pls) but I seriously think they're the best I've seen this year in dramas, for the reasons above. And that's why they deserve their happy ending, so you better deliver that to use, drama.

[dilly-oh]

Sleep With Me

Kakashi is woken up from a dead sleep at three in the morning by an urgent text from Genma. 

EMERGENCY!!, it says. He quickly sits up, a spike of panic shocking him fully awake as he’s dosed with adrenaline. He stares at his phone, anxiously waiting for the flashing dots to spell out: WE NEED CONDOMS, STAT!

Fucking Genma. He lies back down. 

Another text. YOU OWE ME FOR WATCHING THE DOGS.

...Fucking Genma. Kakashi gets up.

GET A BOX OF CONDOMS, Genma adds as Kakashi tugs on his boots. He shudders at the reasoning behind it. What the hell were he and Raido up to at three in the fucking morning, a sex marathon? Were they trying for the world record? Whatever, he just needs to stumble down the street to one of the nearby convenience stores and buy a box of condoms. Genma lives a few floors down so he can drop them off at the door before crawling back up the stairs and collapsing into his bed. His wonderfully soft, cozy bed.

He hopes it’ll still be warm by the time he gets back. 

It’s way past midnight and all the respectable convenience stores are closed, so Kakashi has to bite the bullet and settle on the least-skuzzy of all the skuzzy 24-hour shops, the one on the corner with the cracked window and perpetual smell of urine. There’s a hobo by the dumpster outside, but he’s busy arguing with a pigeon so Kakashi is able to sidle around him and approach the front entrance, a bell tinkling rather sadly above his head. The hum of the fluorescent lights should be added to the list of known torture methods, and Kakashi does his best to ignore the incessant buzz as he walks along the poorly-lit aisles, trying to find the item in question so he can leave before he catches something.

The condom section of this store is disturbingly well-stocked, and Kakashi spends a good five minutes uncertain on which brand and variety to buy. He has an internal debate on whether to buy ‘ribbed’ or ‘studded’, unsure of the difference or which Raido would prefer. He finally settles on one of the flavored variety, cherry, because who doesn’t like cherries, right? He grabs the box and heads to the front.

Standing in line with the other half-awake zombies, Kakashi yawns, his jaw creaking spectacularly. It really is late and he’s looking forward to kicking down Genma’s door, whipping the box of condoms at him, turning his phone off, and going the fuck back to sleep. He peeks impatiently over the shoulder of the man in front of him to see how close he is to the register-

Oh. God. Oh GOD.

The cashier is hot. He’s smoking hot and Kakashi hasn’t brushed his hair all day and has bad breath and bags under his eyes and a box of condoms in his hands.

OH GOD.

Long, luscious hair pulled back into a low ponytail, dark eyes with even darker lashes, and that TAN. Is it natural? Is he that toasty…all over? Fuck, he can see muscles flexing beneath his shirt when he moves, he’s fucking ripped. Abort. ABORT. There is absolutely no way Kakashi is going to greet this ethereal being of his wicked fantasies with a box of fucking condoms in his hands. But it’s already too late, the customer in front has been dealt with and the hot cashier has spotted him next in line and is waving him over, fuck, SHIT, he’s screwed. He’s made eye contact, there’s no backing out of this now. Fight or flight instincts take over, and Kakashi isn’t about to be arrested for stealing a box of condoms. Taking a deep breath, he strides forward with all the confidence he can muster and slaps the box of jumbo-sized, cherry-flavored condoms onto the counter, refusing to show any hint of shame.

The cashier (his name-tag reads ‘Iruka’ and is a million times hotter up close) looks down at the box, blinks, and looks back up at him.

“…So who are you buying these for?”

Kakashi’s brain shorts out for a moment.

Did he just… He wonders, his sleep-deprived brain slow in catching the veiled insult. Aloud, he answers, “I…they…they’re…for me. To wear when I- you know. With...you know.” He trails off lamely, wondering if he should attempt to elaborate more or just die right here.

“I’d rather not, actually.” ‘Iruka’ eyes him for another beat, then picks up the box, frowning at it. “You know, I’m pretty sure we have extra small on the shelf back there, too,” he suggests. “Might be a snugger fit.”

“No, thank you,” Kakashi replies, struggling to maintain a modicum of politeness. Because, you know, hot cashier. Though he is being a bit of a dick.

“Alright, just remember there’s a thirty-day return policy. I’m sure you’ll be needing it.”

Okay, scratch that. He’s being a huge dick.

If this guy wasn’t such a fox I’d pop him one, Kakashi thinks to himself, fuming inwardly. …Instead of popping one-

Finally moving on, Iruka swipes the box over the scanner with no reaction.

“Huh.” He frowns and tries again. Still no beep. “That’s funny. Just a sec.” He leans over towards a small, black object-

Oh God. Please no.

“PRICE CHECK ON THE JUMBO-SIZED CONDOMS,” Iruka says into the microphone, his distorted voice blaring through the store for all to hear. “CHERRY FLAVORED-”

Kakashi lunges forward and grabs the mic, the feed cutting off with a high-pitched squeal.

“Do you really have to-” he hisses out.

“If you want your cough-syrup flavored DICK, YES,” Iruka hisses back, yanking the microphone away from him.

“Hey, I like cherry!”

“Cherry is disgusting. Your opinion doesn’t matter.”

“Okay, dude, you’re being really rude to me for no reason-”

“No reason?!” The cashier all but bares his teeth at him. “I could feel you eyeing me from across the store! Don’t you think I get enough of that from the rest of the creeps?”

...He has a point there. 

“Look, I’m sorry, it’s not like I asked for your number-”

“Good, because the only numbers you’re getting from me is on your receipt,” Iruka snaps, shoving his purchase in a plastic bag. “That’ll be $19.86.”

“Okay, fine, Christ,” Kakashi takes out a twenty and whips it at his head. “Keep the change.” He snatches up the condoms and storms out of the store. The hobo is still there by the dumpster, babbling on. Kakashi stops, fishes in his pocket for a moment, and hands the man a five.

“Here, have a better night than me,” he bites out. The hobo gasps with delight as he takes the crumpled bill, eyes going wide.

“We feast tonight, Fitzgerald!” he cackles, grinning at the pigeon, which is now perched on his knee and cooing.

Kakashi starts down the street, the bag of condoms bumping against his knee with every angry stride.

“Hey!” A voice barks out from behind him, but he ignores it, intent on sulking. “Hey, you! Cherry dick!” Kakashi stops and looks back.

The hot cashier is running down the road after him, breath steaming in the night. He catches up, panting lightly, his cheeks flushed from the cold as much as the run. He glances up to meet Kakashi’s gaze. 

“…Hey,” Iruka says quietly, flashing him an apologetic look before dropping his eyes to the ground. “Um.” He fiddles with the zipper on his jacket for a moment. “I just got off, and… look, man, I’m sorry about back there. I didn’t mean to be such an asshole. It’s just…I was late this morning cuz my car wouldn’t start, and then my stupid co-worker ditched me so I had to work a double shift, and when I’m tired I get bitchy. Like...real bitchy. I’m...really sorry.” He groans in exhaustion, reaching up to free his hair from its constricting ponytail, scrubbing his scalp with relief. It’s an endearing action that cools Kakashi’s irritation and heats up other things. “I mean, it’s past midnight, for God’s sake. Who’s still up at this hour? I just wanna go home and pass the fuck out in bed.”

Kakashi knows exactly what that’s like.

“I’ve been there,” he says. “It’s fine. Sorry for...ogling you.”

“S’okay.” Iruka looks up at him, hopeful and shy. “Listen. Maybe we could…try this again? During the daytime, when we’re both fully rested?”

“Sounds like a great idea,” Kakashi replies, his voice completely calm while his brain is a litany of high-pitched screeches.

“Yeah?” Iruka’s whole face lights up, and holy FUCK he’s a billion times hotter when he’s smiling. Dear God. How is he going to survive this? He'll probably die when he sees him in the light of day. “Are you free tomorrow? For lunch?”

“Make it a late lunch,” Kakashi agrees, nodding. “I’ll probably sleep in.”

“God, me too,” Iruka snorts, and even that’s hot. “There’s this nice cafe that- oh, wait.” His face drops. “Those, um, cough-syrup- I mean, cherry-flavored condoms…are they for… anyone special?”

Anyone special? What is he talking abo- Oh. Ohhhh.

“They aren’t for me,” Kakashi explains quickly. “I was...there isn’t…I’m not…” He shrugs helplessly. “I’m just doing a favor for a friend.”

“...A friend who needs a box of condoms at three in the morning?”

“Don’t ask.”

“I won’t.” Iruka lets out a long sigh and rubs his eyes wearily. “Anyway, I need to be heading home. Ugh, it’s gonna take, like, an hour to walk back to my apartment, none of the buses run this late and I don’t have the cash for a cab. Maybe if I hurry I can-”

“Sleep with me,” Kakashi blurts out before he can stop himself. He can almost see Iruka’s hackles go up. “I mean, like, actual sleeping, no sex stuff. Not that I wouldn’t want to do that with you, you’re fucking gorgeous, it’s just I’m way too tired-” He cuts off his babbling, unsettled by Iruka’s stoney silence. “I’m just saying I live, like, five minutes away and I thought since it’s closer, maybe you’d appreciate-” Iruka’s still not talking. He’s probably about to kick Kakashi in the dick and run. “I, uh, promise I’m not an ax murderer or anything. You can take a pic of me and send it to your friends to let them know you’re sleeping with me-”

“I’m sure they won’t at all take that the wrong way,” Iruka states, finally speaking. He studies Kakashi for a moment longer. “...Yeah okay I’ll sleep with you. My standards are low enough right now.” He pauses to snicker. “Look at me, sleeping with a guy whose name I don’t even know. It’s like college all over again.”

“Oh, sorry. I’m Kakashi.”

“Iruka.”

“I know, I saw your name-tag. So, wait. You’re not worried I’ll try something?” he asks cautiously. Iruka scoffs.

“I know jiu-jitsu. Touch me and I’ll throw you through a wall.” 

That would explain the muscles. And Kakashi’s desire to be pinned by him. 

“I have eight dogs,” he warns.

“They’ll make excellent feet-warmers,” Iruka says dismissively. “Do you have good pillows? I’m a stickler for good pillows, I need the support for my neck, otherwise I get stiff shoulders.”

“I have a couple memory foam ones, plus a down comforter and some quilts-”

“Oh God, yes, talk dirty to me.”

“Anyway, I get the bed, you can have the couch.”

“Screw you, I just worked a double shift. I get the bed.”

“It smells like wet dog.”

“I babysit a five-year old. I’ve smelled worse.”

“Okay, fine. We share the bed, but I get the right side.”

“That’s not fair, I want the right side.”

“You can have the right side if you cook us breakfast tomorrow. Or lunch, rather. I’m not getting up till noon.”

“I’ll cook, but you have to clean up. Deal?”

“Deal.”

They shake on it, firmly sealing the agreement, and head off down the road together.

They don’t let go.

(Written for @kakairu-fest Nine Weeks of Summer, Week Two Prompt: Shop AU)