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#ah that reminds me *clicks the follow button*
pink-november · 8 months
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a bit late, as my timezone makes me eepy when y’all are awake, but you’re yellow, ruby, and jade to me :3 (this is salty-an-disco’s main, Tumblr really should let you ask through side-blogs, urgh)
(I just don’t bite you cuz of sensory issues, but know I’m figuratively biting on your brain)
Hey Sal!!!! Glad you came knocking. I hope you're having a great morning so far.
I'm so glad my silliness brings you great joy. Expect to see more of me 😉
I am giving you hugs and blowing you kisses 😚 thanks for the compliment!!!
I'm so hyped that you enjoy what I post so far! The grip this game has on me is so unreal.
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chernabogs · 4 months
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For da prompt... ‘  i’m  tired  of  being  a  prince.  i  think  i  would  actually  enjoy  being  a  frog.  ’ with Malleus...🐸
can u imagine froglleus...
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Hop To It
Inc: Malleus Draconia, Reader/Yuu, 1 goat, 1 cow, 1 frog Warnings: None bc this is actually a really sweet fic I promise. I diverted from angst and more into feel good for once LMAO. WC: 4k Summary: Your nocturnal friend invites you to an event at a local zoo. If he could've adopted that goat from Fleur City, he probably would've.
It’s not often you find yourself able to catch a break. Usually, your weekends are filled with needing to deal with the mountain of homework that’s grown over the week from neglect—not at your fault, of course. When you have a housemate with the mentality of a two-year old toddler, two friends that are magnets for chaos, and an overblot a month, things tend to pile up without you noticing.
But on this fine, dare you even say perfect, weekend you finally find yourself capable of catching your breath for a moment. You glance at your alarm clock to see that it’s well past the time that you usually wake up, and so with a languid air about you, you reach out to grab your phone and check the notifications.
You have a few text messages from the various group chats that you’re in—study ones save for the first year's chat—and then a few private messages. Your eyebrow raises at one in particular as your thumb drifts down to click it open. 
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Ominous and to the point, isn’t he? You suppress a low chuckle of amusement as you pull up the keyboard. Despite both you and the Shroud brothers working overtime to teach Malleus the ropes of modern technology, including texting etiquette, he still seems to not grasp it in its entirety.
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You think it a perfectly reasonable thing to ask. You know that your friend is of nocturnal affinity, but you’d think he’d realize you’re not apt to reply at 3 am by now. Within seconds of sending your message your phone buzzes again with a reply. 
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Cut and dry, much like the man himself. He reminds you vaguely of an older parent trying to get their child's attention as you click the call button and heave a sigh. It rings once, then again, before the sound of someone picking up has a slow smile pulling on your lips. 
“I’m in your 3 am thoughts, am I?” You muse as you roll to the side to keep the charger cable from pulling too much. 
“Incorrect. Small mammals, in fact, are my 3 am thoughts.” Malleus’ smooth voice cuts down your hopes in 10 words as your brow furrows in confusion. 
“Elaborate.” In your time of knowing him, you’ve also come to realize that, to those he feels comfortable with, Malleus has a habit of streamlining his thoughts with little to no interruption from his brain to his mouth. Around politicians and strangers, he was perfectly composed in all ways. Around you, he was a certified yapper. 
“I have been made aware of the Sage Island Zoo hosting an event I’m most keen on attending, and considering what I know of you, I’d say you’d share the sentiment.” You hear a clattering sound from the other side of the line, followed by a mumbled curse before Malleus continues. “I want to pet a goat.” 
“I…” You click the speaker button on your phone before pulling up your browser to type in the zoo. “Hold on, I need to figure out what’s in your brain right now.” 
“Let me know when you succeed in doing so.” Malleus shot back as you scrolled through the zoo’s feed. You soon come across a post that seems to tell you what the man is going on about. There’s a petting zoo and expo happening at the zoo this weekend. Present will be the usual armada: lambs, goats, pigs, and alpacas. But they also highlight a special reptile and amphibian petting area as well. 
You give a small ‘ah’ of understanding as you share the post via text message with him. You doubt he’ll look at it—the complex multitasking of looking at a text message and talking on the line is still something that surpasses your young apprentices’ abilities. “You mean the petting event at the zoo, yeah? They got goats and such there.” 
“Correct! Well done, Prefect. I knew your fantastic abilities of deduction would get you there eventually.” 
You wish you could reach through the phone to pinch his smarmy face for that comment as you roll onto your back again. “And you thought of me when you saw that? Aw, Malleus. I am your 3 am thoughts!” 
“Did you want to go or not? I can easily invite Lilia, or Sebek, or Silver… although I fear Silver may end up falling asleep in the petting area. Or drawing far too many of the animals to him again…that might be quite the mess…” Malleus trails off into a thoughtful silence, which is another thing you’ve come to realize your friend does a lot. 
“Fortunately for you, my super busy calendar actually has an opening today that I can squeeze some ‘you’ time into.” You sit up with a groan of protest before looking over to Grim’s bed, where your companion is still snoring away, his belly and paws to the sky. “I don’t think Grim will be coming with us, though.” 
“That is fine. I fear he may not be compatible with the animals anyway.”
Your eyes narrow at how quickly Malleus is to agree that it would just be you and him going as you shoved the blankets off your legs. “Okay, then. Can you give me 30—” you pause and tug at your shirt sleeve for a moment before grimacing, “—actually, give me an hour. Then we can head out. The event starts at 10?” 
“According to their poster, yes. I saved it so that I may check to be sure.” Malleus sounds pleased of the fact that he’s managed to save an image from social media without a crisis happening. 
“I’m proud of you for that. If that’s the case, then let’s grab a drink beforehand.” You yawn as you finally rouse yourself, unplugging your phone and sliding your feet into your slippers. The floors of Ramshackle still manage to be brutally cold in the mornings, even with the new renovations done. You’d need to question Crowley on the furnace in the future. “I need some kind of breakfast.” 
“Perhaps if you woke at a reasonable hour, breakfast would not be a concern.” You hear the teasing lilt in Malleus’ voice. He’s in a playful mood today—more so then usual. 
He’s probably just pumped to get out and about again. 
Your nose wrinkles as your finger hovers over the ‘end call’ button. “Not everyone is nocturnal. I’ll see you soon.” 
____________________
An hour later finds you yawning in the lineup of a local coffee shop. The weather outside is continuing to be promising, with its blue skies and temperate air. You’re basking in the ambience of it all while Malleus, bless his heart, is pushing a pair of sunglasses onto his face. 
“It isn’t even that bright out,” you smirk at him as the two of you move closer in the line. A few patrons are staring at Malleus as he remains close to your side. You can’t quite blame them. Some might be gawking at the fact that the crown prince is standing in a coffee shop line like everyone else. Others might be doing so at the fact that he’s out again post-overblot. 
It’s been a bit of an uphill battle to get him on his feet—which is partially why you’re keen to keep him in this rare, uplifted mood. 
“To you,” he shoots back as he crosses his arms. A beige bag is slung over his shoulder, and he’s surprisingly dressed down for the occasion, wearing simple black dress pants and a dark long-sleeve shirt. You think the fact that he’s managed to wrangle up a pair of hiking boots from somewhere is quaint, too. He almost looks like he’d fit into a petting zoo environment. “To me, it is borderline blinding.” 
“My condolences for the weakness of your eyes.” You focus your attention back to the menu ahead as you feel his elbow hit into your side, making you hiss before chuckling. This coffee shop in question has become somewhat of a routine visit for you both whenever you’re out in town together, which is often done a) late at night and b) in the company of the rest of the quartet. Your attendance has been frequent enough though that you now know both yours and Malleus’ usual order. 
He likes his coffee black. You like yours with enough sugar that it might appeal to Sebek’s tastes. 
“I feel like you’re being ingenuine with that.” Despite the hurt in his tone, you know it’s all bullshit by the smirk that touches on the edge of his lips as you finally shuffle to the front of the line. After stating your orders to the slightly nervous looking barista behind the counter (who must be new, considering that the others are all used to Malleus by now), you spot Malleus reaching for his wallet in your peripheral. A sharp swat of your hand on his arm stops him in his tracks as you tap the debit card Crowley so kindly loaned you on the machine. 
“You didn’t need to do that.” He sighs as the two of you step aside to wait for the orders as you shrug and lean on the counter. You don’t mind buying something for your friends—especially if it’s Crowley’s money you’re spending. “I have more than enough funds to afford a cup of coffee.” 
“It isn’t about the money, it’s about the satisfaction it brings me to buy you something as a token of appreciation for inviting me out.” You pat his arm as the barista sets your cups on the counter before you hand it to him. You selectively ignore the way his fingers touch your hand for longer than necessary before withdrawing with his beverage. 
“Anyway, let’s go wrestle a kid, hm?” 
____________________
Malleus manages to get his revenge swiftly and without mercy when the two of you arrive at the zoo. Before you can even shift your cup into your other hand to grab your wallet, he’s stepping in front of you and setting down more than enough madol to purchase two passes. A part of you wants to tease him over this matter, but the man looks so damn proud when he turns and hands you the ticket that you just shake your head with a smirk and let him have it. 
Another thing about your friend—you can’t expect to do something for him and not have it returned in kind. You know he’s felt indebted to a lot of people ever since his overblot, and small gestures like this make him feel better in a way. You really have missed seeing his smile. 
You come to a stop when you get into the zoo itself to pull out the map of the area. “Right, so we need to figure out where—”
“Goats.” Malleus is looping your arm with his before you can even finish your sentence and hauling you to the side, leaving you to yelp at the suddenness of the motion. His bicep feels like solid stone against yours, which leaves you to accept the fact that you’re not getting out of this any time soon—and that you should really take Jack up on those workout suggestions. 
You continue to feel the stares as Malleus leads the charge towards whatever destination he has set in mind. A few people scatter off the walkway, and one particularly curious child points up at Malleus’ horns while boldly asking his mother ‘why does that man have horns?,’ but Malleus has blinders on as the two of you finally spot a sign for the petting exhibition ahead. 
The sign is large—as is the crowd. 
“Shit,” you mumble as you step closer to your companion. Usually you’re good with lots of people, but considering that it’s both hot out and now you’re entering a crowded space, you feel a knot of anxiety forming. Malleus’ other hand comes to rest on yours as he easily manoeuvres around with a few murmured apologies. His gaze is sharp and he seems far more alert now.
You figure it must be innate at this point. As a crown prince, being aware in crowds is a given, especially considering the high risk of kidnappings and assassination attempts that seem to plague the upper class of NRC. It’s only when a loud bleating sound cuts through the air that a smile graces his lips again as he pulls you aside. 
“Oh, marvellous,” he chuckles as he releases your arm (your poor, poor arm) and leans against the fence. A small grey goat is standing by the post, a few bits of hay hanging out of its mouth as it languidly chews. It looks like every other goat you’ve seen before—and yet Malleus is beaming like the thing is a divine gift. “Remember when that goat followed me around at Noble Bell, Prefect?” 
“Hard to forget. Sebek wanted to punt it across the square.” You lean against the fence next to him as he reaches down to pet the goat's head between its horns. The goat bleats again and tips its head back to bite at Malleus’ sleeve instead. “Probably because it kept doing that to you.” 
“Oh, you are bold, aren’t you? Unfortunately, I am not the snack that you seek.” Malleus sighs in mock despondence as he pushes the feeder closer to the goat. You jump onto his comment pretty quickly. 
“Did you just call yourself a snack?” You lean forward more to look up at Malleus, who diligently ignores you in face of cooing over the goat. You know this technique—it’s another one that your friend loves to do. 
The ‘I can’t hear you’ method. 
Well, you’re happy his confidence is back at least. You stealthily take a few pictures of him fawning over the animal to send to Lilia later before pocketing your phone and moving down the line. A few piglets are romping around their pen, as well as some ponies in the next, and a baby calf who looks up at you with doe-like brown eyes. It’s enough to make you stop and give the little guy some love as Malleus finally returns to your side. 
“See? Even you cannot resist indulging.” Malleus reaches out to scratch behind the calf’s ear with a smile as the small creature shuffles closer to the fence. “Innocence has a way of pulling us in. This calf knows nothing but what it has seen in the few areas it’s been carried to. It knows its mother, what it eats, its handlers, the stars, and not too much else.” 
“That’s a pretty sentimental way of looking at it,” you concede as you withdraw your hand and straighten up. The calf looks to you with those big brown eyes again before lowering its head to eat some of the hay off the floor. 
It seems utterly at ease with both you and Malleus—which is more than what could be said with the crowd. The stares towards your companion have amplified, and you can see it’s beginning to make him irate by the way he keeps casting a few dark looks over his shoulder. His one hand grips the fence hard enough that you’re worried he might snap the wood in a moment. In a bid to retain some of the peace of the day, you loop your arm with his, which causes his attention to snap back to you in surprise as you slot yourself easily against his side. 
“Wanna see what’s in the reptiles and amphibian section?”
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You must admit, a part of you wants to see if any of the animals would react to Malleus. The man is a dragon-fae, after all. You know that bats flock around Lilia, and you’ve seen more than a few black-feathered birds cluttering around Crowley’s office window, but you’ve never seen any lizards or frogs responding to Malleus. So, when you enter the darkened room with the many tanks illuminated by heating lamps, you’re hopeful to see something amusing. 
Instead, you find that half of the cold-blooded fellows are still in their morning siesta. 
“It appears we’ve come at an inopportune moment for them.” Malleus seems more at ease now with both you at his side and the smaller crowd milling in the reptile section. Because of the darkness of the room, less people take note of the prince as you two make your rounds from tank to tank. A few ball pythons stir and look at you, and a gecko is plastered against the tank at another section, but most of the creatures lose interest and settle back to themselves within a few moments. 
Until you reach the frog tank. 
A sign posted at the side which reads ‘lift the lid at your own risk’ prompts a glimmer of interest in Malleus’ bright green eyes as he nudges the lid open to peer inside. Most of the frogs seem to still be dozing in their makeshift burrows, but one stirs awake when the lid pops open. The frog yawns and reaches a hand to rub its belly, blinking lazily as it does. 
You hear Malleus give a small ‘oh’ as he leans closer in interest. “My, he seems quite at ease, isn’t he?” 
“Probably thinks you’re his cousin or something,” you snicker as you look down at the other frogs in the tank. Malleus shoots you a narrow-eyed look before leaning back again. 
“... it’d be quite nice to be a frog, hm?” He gives a sigh before his gaze drifts to the other amphibians. “No stress, no conversation. Just hopping and eating.”
He does another pause of contemplative silence before continuing. “I’m quite tired of being a prince, you know. I think I would enjoy being a frog.” 
You lean back and look at him with a cross of both concern and amusement on your face. “Don’t the frogs usually try to become princes in the stories?” 
“I like to shake things up.” He flashes you a sharp-toothed grin as he looks back in the tank. Despite the amusement in his words and the smile he gave, you can still see the edges of exhaustion and frustration at the recesses of his expression. The crowd rubbed him wrong. He’s been on edge ever since his overblot, and it’s small things like that which send him back into makeshift pits of both despair and doubt. 
You don’t want to see him go back there, and you certainly don’t want Lilia questioning (again) why Malleus is in a sour mood (again). After the whole fiasco with him, the poor man is stressed enough as is without the addition of Malleus’ mental health. 
“You know what?” Your words come out as stern, causing his attention to snap to you in concern. “I know few people may say this, and many may not feel this way, but I like to consider myself somewhat of a different stock. So, I just want you to know, upon my heart and all the tuna I can offer Grim—”
You pause for a moment to draw it out, relishing in the way Malleus seems increasingly concerned before you finish. “—I’d still like you if you were a frog.” 
Malleus blinks slowly as your words tumble through his mind for a second before his expression falls flat. “I… really, Prefect.” 
You can’t keep the facade of sternness any longer as a grin appears and you nudge your companion in his ribs. A reluctant look of amusement crosses his features at this. “Let’s step outside for a second. This crowd is going to drive me insane.” 
____________________
The air feels fresher once you’re free of the crowds as you settle beneath the shade of a tree to finish your drinks. A breeze brushes over your skin and manages to cool some of the anxiety that blossomed from being amongst so many people after so long of being confined in your dorm on weekends. Malleus seems to grow more at ease as well when it becomes just the two of you again. 
“So.” You begin as you pop the lid off your coffee to slot it into the now empty cup. “You looked a little tense back by the cow pen.” 
Malleus is quiet for a moment as he sips his drink before clearing his throat. “Did I?” 
“Mhm. Are you doing okay?” A glance up at his face reveals his gaze fixated on the crowd beyond. He doesn’t answer you immediately as he takes another drink. When he does speak, his tone is less-guarded then before. 
Another thing about Malleus: somehow, throughout the trials and tribulations, he’s become a lot more open about how he’s feeling with everyone. 
“Not particularly.” He finally comments as he crushes his empty cup and tosses it into a nearby trash. “I don’t like to admit it—for it feels rather ridiculous to get upset over—but it still bothers me to a degree when some people… well. You saw.” 
You toss your cup into the trash alongside his. “Why is that ridiculous? You’re entitled to how you feel about something, you know.”
“It’s below my station.” A frown dances on his lips at this. You send him a sharp look in return. 
“Emotions aren’t below your station, Malleus. You’re allowed to feel upset if something is upsetting to you. Just because you’re a prince doesn’t mean you need to bottle things up all the time. I would hope you’d realize that by now after everything that happened. You and the others all needed a lesson in emotional intelligence.” 
Malleus doesn’t reply, which leads you to keep talking to fill the silence. For a certified talker, he was certainly being mute about this. “I understand that it sucks, like really sucks, when people don’t want to talk to you, or treat you like an outlier because of your looks or your status. I know that you want people to engage with you, and you’re putting in the work to do that! You’re going to the coffee shop and talking to the barista’s; you’re coming out to places like this where people will be. The more they see you and get to know you, the more relaxed they’ll feel.” 
“It takes a long time.” His response is curt as he stares at the crowd. You give a sigh and shuffle to stand in front of him. He doesn’t seem aware of what you’re about to do before you’re moving forward to drag that man into the best hug you can give a guy whose arms are crossed in a huff. He tenses under your hold for a moment, and you begin to think that maybe he really is carved from stone, until he finally relaxes and lets you do what you need to do.
The guys probably only received a hug a good six or seven times in his life. You feel like you both need this. 
“It may take a while, but it does happen. The barista’s talk to you with no issue now, and the new one will get that way too. Again—you’re putting in the work, and I can see that, so please don’t try to bottle up all your feelings again. Or Lilia will kill us both.” 
You feel him huff a chuckle as his hand comes to rest on your back. His touch is warm in a way that doesn’t make you feel uncomfortable or overwhelmed, and you sink into that contact with a content sigh. The two of you remain in this embrace for a few seconds longer before you withdraw and awkwardly pat the prince’s arms. 
“Thank you,” he murmurs as he looks at you, gratitude easing its way into his features. You clear your throat and offer him a lopsided smile.
“Wanna try petting the goats one more time?” You ask softly. “Maybe they won’t try to eat your clothing the second trip through.” 
Malleus exhales, his shoulders relaxing as he takes your arm into his once more. “Yes, although I don’t hold much hope about that being true.”
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daydreaming-nerd · 6 months
Text
Young Love and Old Money (Cassian x Female! Reader) Part 7
Young Love and Old Money Masterlist
AN: Damn we on part 7? That happened fast. I just realized that this series is going to be longer than I thought. ALSO, highly suggest clicking on the link to see the readers dress bc it adds to the plot and it was hard to desribe lol.
Summary: She was the most beautiful woman in Prythian, sister to the High Lord of Night, and now she is the soon-to-be wife of Eris Vanserra. Despite her many titles and her aura of unattainability, Cassian can't help but fall deeply in love with the princess of the Night Court. But will it be enough to stop her impending wedding to a man who is sure to destroy her from the inside out?
Warnings: Sexism, heavier SA in this one again, a little bit of exhibitionism, jealously, Smut 
Word Count: 6,009
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“If you don’t stop right now Rhys is going to kill you for being late!” I giggle watching Cassian pepper kisses all over my neck through the floor-length mirror. I had simply asked him to button up the back of my dress for me but now he couldn’t keep his hands off me.  
“Rhys can wait,” Cassian smirks nibbling under my ear, the scruff of his morning beard tickling my skin. 
“I’m sure he can, but it might seem a little suspicious that you’re late considering you’re the most punctual person I know,” I smile running a hand through his hair. 
Cassian doesn’t stop pressing loving kisses all over my shoulders and neck. His hands rubbed soothing circles on my hips. His strong chest behind me kept me upright as I watched him ravishing me in the floor-length mirror. 
“Cass,” I protested, turning in his arms knowing if I didn’t my newly buttoned dress would be unbuttoned and on his bedroom floor in an instant. 
“Alright, alright,” he laughed as I threw my arms over his shoulders to play with the hairs at the nape of his neck. 
“I promise you can kiss me all you want later,” I laughed, pressing a kiss to his lips. 
“What about anywhere I want?” he grins, kissing me again.
“Hmmm, maybe,” I tease, tilting my head to the side. Cassian’s hands gripped my waist tighter. 
“C’mon princess don’t make me beg,” he said lowly, pressing a kiss to the shell of my ear. 
I couldn’t help but let out a small giggle to hide the change in my heart rate, “I wouldn’t mind seeing you on your knees general.” I tease. 
“You know I’d crawl to your bed if I had to, princess,” he teased back and the air in the room had become thick and warm.  
I push away from him a little, “Cass stop I know what you’re trying to do! Go talk to Rhys before he comes up here to see what’s taking so long!” I laugh. 
“Fine, fine,” he shakes his head and follows me out of his room into the hallway. 
“What does he want to talk to you about anyways?” I ask as we walk idly towards the kitchen. 
“I’m not sure,” he admits. “Probably just catching up on the Illyrian camps I visited with Az earlier.” 
“Well remember. Nothing about you and I, as far as he’s concerned Eris and I are counting down the days until the wedding.” I remind him as we round the corner to the kitchen where Azriel sips his morning coffee. 
“Hello lovebirds,” Azriel mused, not looking up from his book. 
“Hello Az,” I smiled at the shadowsinger. 
“I promise to paint a lovely picture of newly engaged bliss, even though I enjoy it,” Cassian assures me as we stop at the door to the balcony. 
“Thank you,” I say cupping his cheek. “Now go before Rhys loses his mind,” I say pushing him out the door. 
“Ah ah ah not without one of these,” he smirks, pulling me in by my waist for a kiss. Gods I would never get tired of kissing this male. 
Without another word, Cassian pulled away and flashed me a charming smile before flaring his wings and taking off into the air. These past few days I had grown to see a new side to the Illyrian that I had never known before. For one, I had never known him to be so sweet and loving and two, I had never seen the male smile so much. Not that I could complain, he did have one of the most dashing smiles I’d ever seen.  
“You two are adorable but you make me sick,” Azriel laughed from the kitchen table beside me. I turned my head to find him watching me intently. He tried to mask his face in disgust, but the love in his eyes was a dead giveaway. 
“There will be loads of women fawning over your pretty face tonight tonight.” I teased ruffling up his hair. “And you’re a wonderful dancer. I’m sure you’ll find your person soon.” I continue waltzing towards the library.
“So you think I’m pretty?” Azriel teases taking a bite of an apple. 
I simply rolled my eyes and shook my head as I exited the room. 
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Cassian’s pov: 
“Cass please sit down,” Rhysand says motioning toward the plush chair in his study, one large enough to accommodate wings of course. 
I had known the bastard for hundreds of years and never once had I been afraid of him. But I hadn’t spoken to him since everything happened with me and y/n. I had made sure to keep my mental shields up but I couldn’t stop the irrational fear that Rhys’ next words were going to be, “Are you fucking my little sister?” As he poured us each a glass of whiskey I couldn’t help but feel a bead of sweat dripping down my back. 
“I hear you’ve been keeping y/n satisfied,” Rhys drawled, handing me a glass. 
Oh shit
“At least that’s what Azriel said the other day when I asked him how you guys were doing with going back and forth to the Autumn Court all the time.” Rhys cocked an eyebrow at my blank expression as I grabbed the glass of whiskey from his hand and sipped it eagerly. 
Azriel that motherfucker. I could practically see his smug face as he told Rhys about how “satisfied” I was keeping his little sister. I would be thoroughly kicking his ass today at training. 
“Yeah I mean it’s a pretty simple task taking her back and forth.” I shrug trying to shake whatever tension I had from my shoulders. “But she seems to have no quarrel with me, except for one time when I messed up her hair because I flew too fast but that’s about it.” I smile remembering the cute angry look on her face that went along with her messed-up updo. 
“Ever the little princess,” Rhys rolled his eyes and relaxed into his chair. “Is she happy with Eris?” 
I tried to look collected as Rhys asked the question I had been dreading. The entire flight here I considered telling him everything. I thought that maybe he could help her, or at least talk to Beron. But then I thought about how I would have to explain why I cared so much, and Rhys would be much less inclined to help if he knew I was fucking his little sister. Hell if y/n ever did figure this out would Rhys even allow me to be with her? I was a bastard after all.  
Then of course there was y/n. She would never forgive me for betraying her trust, and I wasn’t willing to lose it. More importantly, I thought back to what she said the day that Eris first tried to take advantage of her. 
Cassian please, don’t take my choices away from me…
Cauldron how those words had struck me like lightning when she said them. The poor girl had never been given free will to make her own choices until recently. First, she was closed off from the world because of her beauty, then she was under the mountain. Now she was engaged to Eris and I’d rather die than be another person who tried to control her. 
“She seems to be,” I reply to Rhys. “I mean she did agree to marry him.” 
Lies 
Lies 
Lies
“And Eris? Will he be a suitable husband for her? I’ve heard stories of him, some good, some bad. I was hesitant at first to let him near her till I remembered what others have said about me.” he says with a hint of sadness. “I thought I’d give him a chance, in hopes that Feyre will give me one someday.” 
My heart broke for my brother, “I’m sure she will brother,” I say warmly. “But Eris seems quite smitten with y/n. He’s already sent her a large trove of dresses and jewels.” 
Not entirely a lie.
“I hope you’re right Cass,” Rhys said with a sad smile. “But I’m glad my sister is happy. After all she’s endured she deserves it. Will you be joining us tonight?” he asks, referring to the engagement ball. 
“Have you ever known me to pass up free drinks and beautiful women?” I chide leaning back in my own chair.
“I suppose not,” Rhys laughed, slamming back his whiskey. 
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y/n’s pov: 
Cauldron boil me.
That was the only thought that raced through my head as I stared at myself in the floor-length mirror. For once my lady's maids didn’t get a chance to select the perfect dress for me to wear tonight, as Eris had specifically labeled a dress in the trove he sent me. The dress I now wore. 
The fabric itself was beautiful, swaths of chrome of molten gold. It draped and cascaded down my body perfectly, the only problem with the fabric was that there wasn’t enough of it. The high slit and the low back left little to the imagination. Even the top of the dress was skimpy, with only three thin pieces of fabric holding the garment together. 
As I exited my bedroom to the foyer to meet Cassian I could only hope that the fireplaces would be roaring on both ends of the vast ballroom tonight as I was already freezing. I find Cassian already waiting for me (per usual), in a night court black jacket that has him looking like pure sex. The only color adorning him is the two red siphons on his hands. 
“Absolutely fucking not,” he gawks at my dress, eyes raking up and down my nearly bare body. 
“What don't you like it?” I tease doing a spin for him. 
His arms pull me close to him, hands wandering all over my exposed skin. The familiar touch of his hands soothes the goosebumps on my too-cold skin as I feel myself leaning into him. 
“That’s what he’s making you wear?” he scrutinizes, looking me up and down again. 
“Unfortunately yes,” I sigh looking down at the dress myself. Gods I hated this. 
“That bastard’s going to have his hands all over you all night,” he grits, turning his head to the side like he doesn’t want me to see the simmering in his eyes. 
I reach up to cup his face turning his gaze back to mine, “Cass I know that this isn’t easy. If the roles were reversed the female would be dead by now,” I laugh trying to ease the mood. “If you don’t want to come tonight I’ll understand.” 
“No, I’m not leaving you to do this on your own,” he says, placing a hand over my own that rests on his cheek. 
“Cass-” 
“I’m going y/n,” he assures me. 
Secretly and selfishly I was glad he was coming. I would never make him do such a thing. Especially knowing how Eris is going to be. But there was a comfort in knowing that he would be present. A comfort in knowing that at the slightest hint of a scared glance, he would likely burn down the whole court for me. 
“Cassian?” I whisper. 
“Yes?” he asked. 
“Kiss me,” I say, referencing our first kiss, hoping it would bring a smile to his face. 
“With pleasure,” he smiled before leaning in for a kiss. 
I took every moment and committed it to memory knowing that soon it would be Eris’ lips instead, and they wouldn’t be as tender and sweet. Soon it would be Eris’ hands on me, and they wouldn’t be as warm and strong. I savored every taste of Cassian I got, somehow in that moment falling even deeper in love with him. Cassian kisses me like I’m the air he breathes. He kisses me like every female dreams of being kissed and gods I’ll never get enough. 
“When we get home,” I whisper in his ear. “I want you to rip this dress off me and fuck me on every single surface in this gods forsaken house.” 
“Be careful princess. You don’t want me at attention in public.” Cassian purs in my ear holding me closer. 
“Maybe I do,” I smile, pressing a kiss to his jaw. 
“Cruel, wicked female.”
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Unlike the last ball when my brother and I arrive, we are one of the first people there, as the ball is being thrown in Eris and I’s honor. I spend the first hour or so making polite conversation until the rest of the crowd shows up. Thankfully the second they do the dancing is in full swing giving me ample time to converse with others as Eris sits on a dias at the end of the room. A place normally reserved for the High Lord alone, but it seems Beron wants to show off this union.
“She’s not here again,” I say to my brother. 
Rhys was one of the first people to dance with me tonight and I had never accepted an invitation so happily, well besides Cassian. When my father taught me to waltz Rhys was always there to help me. We must’ve spent hours dancing together while growing up. Dancing with him now was like living out the old days I so dearly wished for. 
“How do you know?” Rhys asked me as he spun me around once more. 
“I checked the guest list,” I say sadly. “It sounds like she and Tamlin never even leave his mansion.”
“Oh,” my brother says sadly, halting his search for the infamous cursebreaker. 
“You should call upon your bargain Rhys. Give her time to get to know you,” I tell him as he lifts me slightly and resumes the dance in time with the others. 
“I don’t want to force her to love me,” he admits sadly. 
I can’t help but feel my heartbreak. Sure Rhys wasn’t always the best at first impressions given his reputation, but he was an amazing brother and an amazing male. “Rhys please, she’s your mate. Maybe if she meets me I can help her see how amazing you are,” I say hopefully. 
“If Tamlin is what makes her happy I won’t stand in her way,” he explains to me and it’s like a punch to the gut. Before I can say anything to ease his pain a voice cuts in from beside me. 
“Mind if I cut in?” Azriel asks politely. 
“Not at all brother, just don’t step on my dear sister's toes,” Rhysand jests, passing my hand to Azriel’s.
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Azriel smiles before leading me up into a waltz.
“What no crowds of women falling all over you?” I tease him as he gracefully moves around the dancefloor. 
“I’m actually using you to get away from a particularly nosey one,” he nods his head to a giddy blonde in the corner. She looks far too young for him and way too energetic to catch Az’s interest and I can’t help but laugh. 
“Glad to be doing the royal duty of helping my citizens,” I laugh as he spins me in a circle. 
“If you really want to help you could give me a kiss,” he tilts his head so his cheek is on full display for me. 
“Who would come after you first? Eris, Cassian, or my brother?” I roll my eyes. 
“Don’t forget Helion, he's here too,” Azriel laughs and sure enough, out of the corner of my eyes, I can see the High Lord of Day. 
“By the cauldron, I’ll never know peace,” I sigh as Az picks me up and twirls me around.
Even though it was the same ballroom as last time this one felt smaller. Every move I made felt more and more observed and scrutinized. On one end I had Eris sitting on a dias watching me like I was a pet he had let off its leash. On the other side stood a very grumpy and brooding Cassian who wouldn’t take his eyes off me and Eris, like he was waiting for the prince to make one wrong move. Never mind the rest of the guests who gawked at my dress or the ginormous ring on my finger.
“Eris is looking at me like he’s about to have me incinerated,” Azriel laughs in my ear. 
I can’t help but roll my eyes, on the next spin I see the prince doing just that. “That’s his way of saying he wants me back.” I sigh. 
“You want me to dance us away from him?” Az asks sweetly and quietly. 
“No, no I’ve already been avoiding him for far too long. He’ll come down here himself in a moment,” I say as the music stops and I bow to Az. 
“Good luck then princess,” he bows to me before he saunters off to where Cassain sits gripping a goblet of wine tighter than he ought to.
Like I’m either a blessing sent from above or a curse from below the crowds parts for me as I make my ebay towards Eris. The men gawk and lick their lips, the women gossip and whisper to one another. Once again I felt like a painting displayed at a museum, I was beginning to hate balls. 
“Have I told you how delicious you look in gold, my pet?” Eris says as I take my place standing next to his chair.  
“At least a dozen times tonight,” I sigh, snatching a glass of wine off a silver platter. 
“Come here,” Eris says, patting his lap and I know better than to disobey, not when all of Prythian is watching us. 
“What, I don't get to have my own throne?” I grumble, adjusting my dress from where I sit on his lap. The damned thing is one gust of wind away from exposing me to the whole room. 
“Wall ornament my dear, wall ornament,” he reminds me, lips trailing down my neck. “And how beautiful you look perched on my lap,” he smirks. 
“Yes and I’m one gust of wind away from flashing the whole room,” I grit, adjusting the dress once more. 
“Good, let them see what I get to indulge in,” he grins, lifting my goblet to his own lips. The overwhelming urge to spill the liquid all over his pressed jacket is strong but lord knows what would happen next. 
“Prince Eris,” mused a female voice drawing both of our attention. “I came to offer my congratulations to you and your future wife.” 
The woman standing before me was nothing short of beautiful. Her skin is fair and covered in freckles across her nose and cheeks. Eyes the color of the evergreen trees found in the winter court. Her hair is unbound and the deep auburn. She looked at Eris with a certain coldness and in that moment I realized that they might have been lovers at one point in time. Her eyes flitted to mine and my blood ran cold. She looked at me like I had taken her future away. I suppose I had. If Eris had any feelings for her he certainly didn’t show it.
“Thank you for your well wishes Lady Adarna. We hope to see you at the wedding next week,” he chided leaning back in his chair once more. 
The woman simply bowed and waltzed away. I mentally hoped she wouldn’t go near Cassian. Not that I didn’t trust him, but because I didn’t trust her for one moment.
As she scurried off to join a large group of lords and ladies conversing I watched as Eris’ eyes trailed her entire backside. His lips twitched up as if recalling a fond memory. Now was the perfect time to execute my backup plan. 
“She seemed angry to see me on your lap,” I muse, taking another sip of my wine. 
“So is every male in this room. You should be used to it by now.” he kissed my shoulder. 
“You fucked that woman didn’t you?” I turn my head to him letting him see the false anger in my eyes. I had to sell it. 
“Many times my pet,” he smiled proudly. “She used to beg me to come to her bed.”  
I scoff at his words, it was too hard to believe that any woman would beg to warm Eris’ bed.
“And you're ready for monogamy?” I raise an eyebrow at him, my question more like a test. Eris had been so in lust with me had forgotten about the other women he once bedded. Surely the idea of monogamy wasn’t one he relished, he needed a reminder. The very concept could be the only thing to stop the wedding. 
“Who said anything about monogamy?” he laughed while taking a sip of his wine. “I’m sure I’ll be insatiable after I deflower your tight cunt, but once you’re with child I’ll be left to my own devices. Someone will have to satisfy my needs,” he said like it was common knowledge. 
By the fucking cauldron this man was insane. But in his words, I saw an opening I never thought of. Maybe I didn’t need to call off the wedding, maybe I just needed to ensure I could sneak out the back door so to say when I needed to. 
“And what about me? Will I be allowed other partners?” I muse playing with the hair at the nape of his neck like it might soften him up. 
Eris barks out a hearty laugh and I already know I’ve lost this fight as his hand trails up my thigh. The fabric of my dress starts to shift and I find myself shifting around to fix it once more. 
“Of course not wife, I won’t have your cunt defiled by any other male,” He pressed a kiss to my neck. “You are purely mine, to taste, to fuck, to impregnate all I want.” 
“I’m not your wife yet,” I grumble trying to stand, but his hand on my front flattens and I’m pulled down onto his lap once more.
 My stomach pits as I feel what prods into my backside. He’s undeniably hard and my eyes search for Cassian. I have no doubt that Eris would fuck me right here on this dias just to prove a point to everyone in attendance. I search and search, but Cassian is nowhere to be found.  
“Oh really? Because you’re on my lap, on my throne and you’re wearing my ring,” He purrs lowly so only I can feel his hand dipping under my dress. “And I’m pretty sure you’ve cum on my fingers. So yes I will call you my wife preemptively because that’s what you are ‘Jewel of Prythian’, mine.” 
His hand cups my sex and my breath hitches in my throat. Tears prick my eyes and I put on a cold face. 
I will not cry.
I will not cry. 
I will not cry. 
I feel a finger slip through my folds and when he doesn’t find what he’s looking for his finger slips inside me. My eyes search the crowd to see if anyone is paying attention, but thankfully they are all drunk and lost in conversation or dancing. That is until my eyes land on Cassian’s. I could throw up from the embarrassment of it all. 
Eris quickly retracted his finger, bringing it to his lips and sucking it. 
“Good girl. You didn’t fight this time.” he muses, brushing a hand down my cheek. 
I take the quickest route out, “I think I see Viviane, she wants to speak to me,” I say quickly, standing from his lap. 
“Have fun pet,” Eris smirks, smacking my backside before I saunter down the steps making a beeline for Kallias and Viviane. 
My mind is a mess of a million different voices. Eris calling me his broodmare, Cassian begging me to end all this, the voice of my brother sacrificing himself for me, the sound of the children of Velaris playing in the streets. All of it is like a perfect storm. I could erupt at any moment and I don’t think anyone here would care unless my makeup smeared and ruined the image of “The Jewel” 
Like a magnet, my eyes flit up from my feet rushing through the crowd to find that hazel gaze that always brought me home. 
Cassian was making a beeline towards me. No, not towards me, to my right.
I passed him without so much as a word but as if some strange instinct kicked in, I reached out a hand and felt him do the same. Our fingers grazed each other where no one could see. His touch held a thousand words. 
I am here. I am with you. You are not alone. I love you.
My breathing calmed, my heart rate slowed, and the voices in my head quieted down to the point where all I heard was the white noise of those around me.  
And I was thankful, so thankful, for that simple touch that brought me home.
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Cassian’s pov: 
I could kill him. 
I could fucking kill him for touching my mate that way. Cleave his head from his body. Castrate him. Rip him limb from limb and my rage still wouldn’t be sated. 
The look on her face as his hand dipped between her legs is one I wouldn't soon forget. She was so scared, so helpless and I just let it happen.
I marched towards the other end of the ballroom after grazing her hand in mine. I just needed to feel her once. Just needed to remember that she was mine. 
I pushed past the large swaths of curtains lining the room to where I knew there was a door that led to the cool night air outside. I just needed air. I needed to forget. 
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y/n’s pov: 
“Well I hope to see you and your new husband visiting us in the winter court soon,” Viviane said, embracing me fondly.  
“And tell that brother of yours that I want to have a drink with him soon,” Kallias smiled putting a hand on my shoulder. 
“I’ll be sure to do both,” I smile warmly. 
While under the mountain, Kallias was one of the people who looked out for me. His relationship with my brother was strong, and since Rhys couldn’t ever be with me Kallias had stepped in as one of my protectors. I had only met Viviane once since Kallias shielded her from the horrors under the mountain, but her warm soul always spoke to me. I was happy to call the mates my friends. 
“I’ll do just that,” I smile, backing away from the High Lord and Lady. 
My eyes flit up to that cursed dias, looking for any sign of Eris’ gaze. Instead, I found him lounging about talking to one of the men who sexualized me at the last ball. My skin prickled at the memory. Their voices calling through my head as I made my way towards the edge of the room scouring the dancehall for another drink. 
Suddenly a hand gripped my exposed arm and pulled me behind the swaths of large fabric that lined the room. My back hit one of the many pillars as another hand was placed over my mouth to keep me from screaming, which I desperately wanted to do until I saw that beautiful shade of hazel that warmed my very bones. 
“Shh, it’s okay it’s just me,” Cassian whispered, releasing his hand that covered up over half of my face. 
“Oh Cassian,” I breathed, placing my hands on either cheek. The stubble from this morning mixed with the warmth of him setting my very soul on fire. 
“Are you okay?” he breathed pulling me into his chest, like he just needed to have me in his arms if only for a moment. 
“Yes, yes I’m fine,” I said frantically as I inhaled his scent. 
“He touched you,” Cassian glowered and I pulled my head back to meet his simmering eyes. 
My heart shattered right there at the pain within them. He had seen everything. Seen Eris’ hand roam where it shouldn't have, seen him bring that hand to his mouth. Seen him do this in front of everyone and I had instructed the general not to even flinch. It was cruel, I was crueler than even the prince of Autumn himself, 
“I’m sorry Cassian, I’m so so sorry,” I pleaded, brushing a hair out of his face that had escaped the bundle at the nape of his neck. “I’m yours Cassian, I’m yours.”  
“Y/n I-” 
“My heart,” I cut him off, placing his rough hand over the center of my too-exposed chest. “My heart belongs to you Cass.” 
In an instant his hands found my waist, pulling me towards him as his frame backed me into the marble pillar. His lips on mine in a fiery need. I met him touch for touch as I pulled the lapels of his jacket towards me, needing to feel every inch of him on me. Even more than that I needed him to erase every single fingerprint Eris had left on me. 
Cassian. 
My Cassian.
His hands brushed over the vast expanse of my exposed skin leaving a trail of warmth wherever they went. I had spent the night so freezing cold from my lack of coverage that the heat of his body against mine felt so delicious. 
His tongue parted my mouth and I felt every inch of him reclaiming me. My hands found that head of hair that I so often found myself gripping as he licked my most sensitive areas. My mind raced to last night where he spent a solid hour coaxing orgasm after orgasm from me. 
A woman laughed loudly from the other side of the curtain pulling both Cassian and I’s heads away from one another. We looked to see if the curtain had been pulled back but found nothing.
My core ground down on the bulge in his pants. Oh gods I needed him. I needed him now. 
“Tell me to stop,” he breathed, tucking a stray hair behind my ear. “Tell me to leave and wait till we get home.” 
“No,” I rasped pulling him down to my lips once more. 
I needed him now. Needed to feel all of him, needed to remember that no matter what Eris said or did to me he could never own me. He could own my body, sure. But my heart? My soul? The very essence of me? All of it belonged to Cassian. So much so that it consumed me. 
Cassian’s large hands reached beneath my thighs hoisting me up and pressing me further into the cold marble pillar. It didn’t take much for my dress to part for him exposing my core. My hands went to the ties of his pants frantically pulling them down until he sprang free. 
“Cassian, I need you,” I pleaded with him. 
“Shh I’m coming baby,” he assured me, pumping his cock a few times. 
The woman outside the curtain laughed again but this time neither of us looked to see if she had seen us. Let them see. I thought to myself. At this moment I was beyond caring about who was engaged to and who I wasn’t. Who was a prince and who was a bastard. Cassian had all of me, that's all that mattered. 
Cassian slid home filling me to the brim so harshly that I gasped. A calloused hand flew over my mouth and my eyes met his. His intense stare watching me take every luxurious inch of him could’ve been enough to make me cum right then and there. 
“Shh princess, I don’t like sharing.” he mused, thrusting into me even harder.
His hand fell from my mouth to brace against the pillar behind me as the other arm kept me upright. Every stroke threatened to have me screaming in pleasure. Calling out just how in love with this man I really was. But there were at least a couple hundred people on the other side of that thick curtain and though I hated to admit it, the game we were currently playing thrilled me to my core. 
“Fucking mine,” Cassian gritted through his teeth, thrusting harder for emphasis. This wasn’t just about releasing the tension for both of us. Oh no. This was my general reclaiming what was his, and cauldron if he didn’t have a hand holding me up I would’ve been weak at the knees. 
“All yours Cass,” I mumbled into his mouth as I pressed my lips into his, my fingers digging into the material of his jacket. 
“I love you y/n,” he breathed. “So fucking much.” 
“I love you too Cassian,” I smiled, feeling myself clench around him, as the knot in me was beginning to let go. 
“Fuck,” he hissed in my ear, burying his head in my shoulder. 
It was enough to have me cumming around his cock. My hand flew to my own mouth to stifle the loud moan my body involuntarily let out. My orgasm triggered Cassian's as he let out a smothered low groan burying himself deep inside me
As I tried my best to catch my breath Cassian pulled his head from my shoulder. I looked at his strained face and his messed up hair and began meticulously brushing every strand back into place. His eyes met mine and I couldn’t help but laugh. 
“We did not just do that,” I giggled brushing his hair into submission. 
“I think we did princess,” he laughed looking down to where he was still seated inside me. “I’m sorry I got a little jealous there.” 
“Don’t be sorry, it was kinda hot.” I smile, running a hand down his cheek.
“Yeah?” he smirked, leaning in for another kiss.
“You two are fucking idiots!” Azriel hissed low coming from around the corner. 
Our heads turned immediately to find a very worried Azirel shrouded in his shadows. Cassian set me down and shielded my body with his growling at Az as he tucked himself back into his pants. 
“A warning would have been nice brother,” Cassian grumbled, making sure I was decent before stepping to the side. 
“You’re lucky my shadows found you before anyone else did,” Azriel argued. “Eris is looking for her,” he says nodding towards me. 
“Shit,” I curse, adjusting my dress and stepping towards the curtain. 
Cassian’s hand finds mine and pulls me back. My eyes snap to him and where there was once lust is now a pleading gaze that has tears threatening to spill from my own eyes. 
“Please don’t go to him, I can’t bear it any longer,” he begs me and gods does it shatter me to my core. 
“I have to Cass,” I say adjusting his jacket so it’s straight.
“Tell him you're ill and then come back to me,” he pleads. “Then we can go home.”
I know deep down that I shouldn't be leaving this early. It had only been an hour or two since the guests arrived and I hadn’t even spoken to Helion. But Cassian looked so broken. So broken and so hurt. I couldn’t put him through anymore tonight, and I wanted nothing more than for him to take me in his arms and tell me everything would be okay.
“Alright,” I say assuringly, squeezing his large hand. I take one look at Cassian and then at Azriel who looks worried as hell, like if I didn’t leave right this moment we would all be found out. 
So I reluctantly pulled my hand from his and parted the curtain that concealed us. Thankful for the shadows Azirel lent me, I was able to assimilate back into the crowd seamlessly. But as I made my way towards the dias where Eris sat impatiently I swore I could feel Cassian’s anger behind me and it threatened to bring down the room around us. 
Part 8
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takami-takami · 2 years
Note
/smut/
mean!hawks walking into the apartment you share and hears you using a toy and he just.. snaps? He throws open the door and yells, degrading you, asking if his cock wasn't enough or if you're just a slut, grabbing you by the hair and mocking you as you whimper for stimulation as he throws the toy. "Look at that, you're such a little slut beggin for orgasm that maybe i should just fucking overstimulate you into oblivion."
Baby, I'm All You Need.
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includes— hawks x fem!reader. minors dni. smut.
warnings— a bit of toxic!keigo. he's clingy. <3. a smidge of yandere. dirty talk. overstimulation. abandonment issues. rough sex. degradation. mirror sex. reader is way too into it.
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Keigo wants to believe in you.
He wants to believe that his sweet, blushing mess of a girlfriend wouldn't lie to him. He fights back the seething, green rage that stirs in the depths of his chest, channeling it into each stomp of his steel-toed boots on his way to follow that damned buzzing sound. It grates his ears, cracks his composure with each passing second.
You still love him, right? You still need him, you wouldn't replace him. Would you? The tips of his gloved fingers trace the rails of the stairway, gliding with the turn of the corner as he stalks up the stairs. With each stride, the buzz pierces closer to his ears, picks at the recesses of his sanity.
Nah, you couldn't. Poor thing, you'd just about die without him. You're always reminding him of how perfect he feels, always fuckin' whining about how good he dicks you down, pawing at his cock, how oh, oh, Keigo– ah! Don't need anything but you, clamping down on him like a dumb bitch in heat.
Liar.
---
This is Keigo's favorite part of the morning. Seeing him off by the doorway, your delicate fingers fluff the cotton details of his hero costume's coat, fussing over each little imperfection. He watches you with rapt attention, with a lovesick crease around his eyes. Your fingers pull at his clothes with a delicate yet firm touch. It drives him mad.
"Let me sew some buttons on your coat one of these days," you insist. "What if you get cold, Kei'?" The pout of your lip is too irresistable, practically inviting him to give one peck on the lips; one that quickly devolves into countless. It's always like this between the two of you– your friends coo at the public displays of affection, lamenting about how lucky you two are to have found each other.
You'd be inclined to agree. He's sickly sweet as fermented toffee, totally attached at your hip and absolutely refusing to let go. It's endearing; the way he pouts and paces outside the bathroom door as you brush your teeth in the morning, how he whines and drags you back to the couch with him the second leaving even crosses your mind, how your phone blows up more often than not each day with texts full of declarations of his love. His most recently used emojis are just about every heart you can type.
Spoiled puppy. You indulge his every whine, unlock the doors of his kennel cage, let him pounce on you and pull you along by his leash. It's not your fault. How can you resist eyes like those?
He plants a chaste kiss to the crown of your head as you close your eyes in contentment. "Be good for me, yeah?" You feel the pads of his thumbs rub circles in your cheeks as he cradles your face in his palms.
"I will!" You chirp back.
Pleased, he walks out the door, before he  remembers one last thing. His coat flows with his little spin around to face you again. He beams a smile at you, heels clicking against the floor as he walks backwards with an innocent wave.
"And don't touch till I get back. 'Kay, sweetness?"
---
Your flinch is palpable, jumping out of your skin at the slam of your shared bedroom door against the wall. You lift the sheets to cover your shame, blinking wide-eyed at the unhinged sight that greets you at the doorway.
His wingspan flares, flapping once like he's attempting to make his already imposing presence even larger. More possessive. He stalks toward you with rapt focus, sending a single feather to slam the door shut behind him.
"K-Kei', what're you–"
"Up. Now." He orders, gripping you by the hook of your arm and pulling your trembling legs to stand. The now forgotten toy clinks as it hits the floor, rolling beneath the bed. That damned buzz finally ceases, switch flicked off with the swish of a feather.
He drags you up, walking you backwards until your rear collides with the cold expanse of the sliding mirror doors on your closet. A heavy mix of fear and arousal heats your body, makes you whine into the crash of his lips against yours.
"What did I say," he asks, muffled against your mouth as he refuses to pull away. "What did I fuckin' tell you? Is my cock not enough for you, or are you just that greedy?"
His hands are all over you, pulling you impossibly close, like something could rip you from his grasp at any second. You huff in realization.
"You... You're jealous," you breathe out. Your smile reflects your singing blood, the adrenaline coursing through your veins at his vicious actions. You greedily drink in the sight of his furrowed brow, the twinges of rage and sexual frustration that tense the veins of his temple.
He leans back with a giddy, knowing smirk plastered across his face. He eyes your squirms, dragging a single finger through the slick that pools between your thighs. He pants, "what, are you fuckin' enjoying this? You actually like this kind of shit?"
In his moment of surprise, his moment of weakness, you sink your teeth into the skin of his jugular. His masochistic, shocked moan urges you on, feeds your hope that your behavior will get to him. Instead, he throws his head back in breathless ecstacy, barking out a laugh.
His eyes are lidded when he locks his gaze downward on you.
"God, you're such a freak."
The air is suddenly knocked from your lungs with the way he spins you around with a speed only he can attain, shoving you forward and pressing your front flush against the mirror. He grins and rolls his eyes at your squirms of discomfort, pleased with the sight of your tits and pretty face pushed up against the reflective surface in front of you.
Your fingers claw and grapple to keep a steady grip on the glass, failing miserably to his delight. His sigh is full of smiles. The thrumming anger he feels is soothed bit by bit with each wave of pleasure he gets from seeing you struggle.
He kicks your legs apart, bends the arch in your back to his liking. He's so nice to you, shoving two slick fingers inside to prep for his cock. Even through the grit of his teeth, he scissors his fingers to stretch you out. You're so lucky, aren't you?
But that's all you're getting. All you deserve.
The last thing you hear is the clink of his belt being undone before inch by inch, he buries his thick cock inside, shushing your gasps and whimpers. Though, it's not like anyone could hear those precious little moans over the obscene, wet sounds between your legs anyway.
You're perfect for him.
"Bet you spend all your precious time while I'm gone tryin' to get your pathetic cunt off," Keigo says. "But you just can't, can you? Not without me. Not without my help."
He spares no time setting a steady pace, pulling out to the tip and plunging inside, over and over. He gnashes his teeth at the tight vice of your pussy gripping his cock, blinking the white spots in his eyes away. Each chant of his name from your lips steals his breath, steals the blood from his head and makes him lightheaded. You say his name like a goddamn title. Like a prayer to your God.
Yeah, he decides. This is exactly where you belong.
"No one else, nothing else can make you feel like I can. Ain't that right?"
You choke out a broken moan in response, fogging the glass with your desire.
Cute, but not what Keigo wants to hear. He fists the roots of your hair, a silent demand.
"Say it. Fuckin' say it," he growls. Anyone less aquianted with his mannerisms and quirks would fail to notice the desperate nature underneath his tone; how it's less of an order and more of a beg, an unspoken 'please' hanging in the air between you.
Your whine is pathetic, moaning your agreement into the palms of your hand. With your eyes squeezed shut, you miss the eye-roll he gives in response.
"Awww, babydoll, don't be shy now," He coos with faux sympathy, mocking the way your lips purse into a pout. His taunting, lilted hmmm devolves to near-sadistic chuckles.
Of course you'd play dumb now. You're probably holding on to whatever scrap of dignity that hasn't dripped from your pussy at this point.
"Quit whining, you know you fuckin' love it." He rips both your hands from your face, pinning them behind your back with just one of his fists. Your own wrists are used to pull you back onto his punishing thrusts.
"See that, baby?" A firm hand pulls your head back, forces you to make eye contact with the dishevelled, drooling mess in the mirror. "My pretty little whore."
"Mm-hmm! I-I'm yours, your whore," you choke. His smirk is crooked, high on endorphins and fueled by the power dynamic he so graciously established for the both of you.
"See, was that so hard?" His coarse, thick digits begin to rub circles on your clit as a reward, dipping down to collect your slick and back up to continue the tight circles. He winds you like a toy.
"My baby's so honest when they're getting fucked, huh?" Keigo plants a too-chaste kiss on your cheek, condescending and smitten with your submission. Still, he mocks, "that all it takes to make you admit the truth, sweetheart?"
"Yes! Yours, yours, yours," you pant in response. You drown on his cock, tight threads coming loose with every slap of his hips against yours. "Need you, only you. Gonna– Keigo, gonna, I'm–"
Close? Yeah, he knows.
His fingers keep the same pace on your clit, drawing higher and higher pitched moans. You crash over your high, squeaking and hiccuping his name through your tears.
Reality hits you when you realize he hasn't slowed at all, that he isn't giving you even a single second to cool down— no, he chases his own high and ignores the fit you pitch, completely disregards your cries of overstimulation.
"Since you like cumming that much, why don't you keep doin' it for my entertainment?" He jabs at your crumbling dignity.
This is your fault. He'll fuck that into you for as long as it takes.
"That's right. I'm all you'll ever fucking need."
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thyme-in-a-bubble · 2 years
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daisy, chapter four
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A/N: we back babyyy!! fucking finally a new chapter after two weeks!! sorry for the long wait. if you already follow me, then you have an idea of what chaos unfortunately paused this deliciously filthy mess.
summary: "in the name of being nostalgic, how about we make it a sleepover?”
warnings: private school!reader, perv!steve, smut, kissing, dry humping, pussyjob, size kink, somno adjacent, dirty talk, slight overstimulation
word count: 2709
∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽
masterlist | join my taglist
previous chapter - series masterlist - next chapter
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Leaning back, you relaxed against the hallway wall and listened to your boyfriend's voice spill out from the telephone. 
“Did you just get home?”
“Yeah, like 5 minutes ago,” you reached a few fingers down to readjust the knee-high sock that had fallen down a bit, “what are you doing?” 
It sounded like it took all of the strength he had to even utter it out loud, “homework.” 
“Oh yeah?” you attempted to look at the glass half full, “how’s that going?” 
“Urgh, pass,” he grumbled, “how about instead you tell me what colour underwear you have on?” 
“Steve,” you tried not to let him hear the smile that attempt evoked, “I will not be the reason you don’t graduate.” 
“Okay, fine,” he groaned dramatically, “It’s going terrible, absolutely horrible, I’m dying over here.”
“What is it?”
“Algebra.”
“Oh, really? But it’s so satisfying!” 
“I don’t think this is what satisfaction feels like. No matter how hard I try, it just never makes any sense to my brain. It just doesn’t seem to click.”
“Ah, no, I’ll show you! Trust me, it’s not as complicated as it seems.” 
“Yeah?” he really didn’t sound convinced. 
“Yeah. Why don’t you come over?”
And with that, most of his misery melted away, “really?”
“Yeah, I can help you and we can study together, you know, like the good old days.”
“Okay, well then in the name of being nostalgic, how about we make it a sleepover?”
“You wanna have a slumber party? What, like when we were kids?”
“Yes,” then to sweeten the pot, he added, “I’ll even let you braid my hair.”
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After hours of actual proper studying well into the dark evening hours, you were now both getting ready for bed in your tiny bathroom. Having had a head start, you already moved to rinse off your blue toothbrush and pop it back into the small glass by the sink well before Steve was even close to done himself. Walking back out into your bedroom, you left your best friend to his brushing. 
Carefully changing into your sleepwear, you couldn’t help but glance over your shoulder to see Steve smirking from the doorway, brush still immobile between his lips, completely entranced by each button you plucked free. Catching his eye, he choked out a small cough and returned to his brushing, reluctantly turning to give you some privacy. 
With one hand you chucked your uniform into the hamper, and with the other, you did up the last of the pearly buttons on your light pyjama set.
“So,” you turned to see him leaning against the doorframe, “are the extra pillows still in that hallway closet?” 
“Steve?” you bit down on your bottom lip and asked timidly, “do you wanna just sleep in my bed? I mean,” trying to make it sound a little more casual, “I remember how much, every time, the floor killed your back, so it’s more just because I don’t wanna listen to you complain and beg for massages for the rest of the week.”
“Okay, yeah, thank you.”
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Slowly coming to consciousness, you blinked your eyes open to see that it was still very much the dead of night. What you instantly noticed nearly made you feel as if you were still dreaming. 
Steve was behind you, hugging your body tight against his, clicking perfectly into place along your spine as if you were two pieces of lego. The slow rutting of his hips against your soft ass made the whole room go fuzzy and your lips parted in an inaudible gasp. 
One of his hands was drawing soft almost tickling patterns over your boobs, occasionally poking his thumb in the gaps between the buttons and skimming it along your soft, bare skin. Running a hand down to touch the back of his, you breathed out, voice thick with sleep, “Steve?”
The lazy movements stopped at once and he apologised quickly, sounding half asleep himself, “sorry, I’m sorry…”
Tightening your grip on his wrist before he could manage to scurry away, you assured him, “no, it’s okay.”
“I wasn’t really thinking,” he clearly didn’t take your words to heart, and just kept on blabbering, “I just woke up from this dream and then there you were in my arms and it just kinda happened-“
Rolling your hips, you grinded your ass back against his palpable hardness, effectively turning his worried explanation into a needy groan directly into your ear.
Craning your neck to give him a kiss, you felt his fingers, like a reflex, tighten around your breast. Whimpering against his tongue, his other hand snaked under your waist and brought you back for more contact. 
Feeling him slowly gather your shirt up, making it bunch around your waist, his fingers danced over your skin, teasingly finding your waistband and playing with it for just enough time that you lost the rest of your sluggish patience and reached down to tug them off completely. 
“Hi,” he mumbled sweetly, moving his kisses over your jaw and down your neck. 
Pressing your face back down into the pillow, you hummed, “Steve…”
“Yeah?” most likely trying to drive you mad with just how much more you could feel him now that you had one less layer on. 
You didn’t know how long he had been having his fun before you finally woke. All that you knew was that it had been plenty of time for your whole body to be set aflame.
In one fluid motion, you rolled around and gave his shoulder a shove, successfully pressing his back down into the mattress. 
“Wow,” you saw his eyebrows shoot up, clearly waking him up a bit more as you swung your thigh over his hips, straddling his lap. 
“I want more,” you caught his lips again with yours and swiftly worked your fingers at the buttons on your shirt.
Before you could manage to undo the last few, Steve caught your hands in one of his and made you reel back a bit, “okay, easy there tiger.”
“What?” you tried to focus your hazy eyes, quickly becoming too worried for your own good, “what happened? Did I do something wrong? Do you not want to do it?”
“Ace,” he caught your cheek, “you know I do, believe me when I say that it is literally all I can think about. And you didn’t do anything wrong. You’re you, I don’t think you’re capable of not being amazing at everything first try. But,” he sighed, clearly attempting to cool down a bit, “I just want it to be good for you. I don’t wanna hurt you.”
Furrowing your brow, you sat up a bit and scooted down to sit on his thighs, needing the distance to be able to calculate what this was about, “what do you mean hurt me?” 
You were well aware of how experienced he was, so what could he mean?
Lacing his fingers with yours, he kept his eyes glued on them as he slowly clarified, “I’m kinda big…”
“Big?” you squinted. 
“Yeah,” he met your eyes. 
“Okay? um,” you couldn’t help the confused giggle that bubbled out of you, “congratulations?”
“No, ace, I’m not just saying this as a way to try and boost my own confidence.” 
With your laughter not dying down one bit, his tired brain only saw one possibility to make you understand. Letting go of your hands, he reached down into his pyjama pants and pulled out his throbbing length.
The room immediately went dead quiet. To say that he was correct was a bit of an understatement. 
“Ace?” he cautiously tried to cut through your trance, “you there?”
“Mhm…” you stared intensely at the way his right hand slightly tightened around the wide base as a result of your mind-melting hum.  
“You okay?” his left hand came to ghost over your bare thigh. 
“Y-yeah,” you couldn’t rip your eyes away, “I, um… yeah…”
Almost as if you were hypnotized, you slowly reached out a hand, but as soon as you made contact with it your fingers snatched back. To the naked eye, it could have almost looked like it had shocked you.
“It’s okay,” you felt his thumb move over your skin, “you can touch it if you want to.”
Finally meeting his eyes for a moment of reassurance, you timidly reached out and traced your fingertip over one of the prominent veins with a feather-light touch. Seeing it jump under you made your eyes grow wide. 
You hadn’t seen many, if any, to compare it to, but still, just the vision of your tiny hand right above where his own still gripped it firmly put everything into perspective even if you didn’t need it. 
You completely forgot to breathe for a moment as your mind quite literally melted at the confusion of how it would even be possible. 
“Steve…” you curled your curious fingers back and refused to meet his eyes, “you know I’ve never done this before, right?”
“Yeah, I know,” he answered softly. Just when he saw you get too much in your head about it, try to do the math, damn nearly talking yourself out of it all, he piped up, “you know, if you’re still in the mood for something more, then there are a lot of other fun ways we can make each other feel good.”
“Yeah?” you glanced up at his soft smile and felt your shoulders relax.
“Yeah. Do you still want to? Because it really is okay if you just wanna go back to bed.”
“I think so, yeah.”
“You think so?”
“Sorry, I know so,” you winched lightly, correcting yourself, “Steve, I do really want to do it, do everything, I just don’t really get it completely right now how that is gonna fit when I already know exactly how just one of these feel,” you babbled, pointing to his long fingers that rested on your thigh. 
Licking his lips, he tried to hide a cocky smile, “it’ll fit, ace. I know it will.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah, I’m sure.” He then sat up more, getting closer to you, “hey,” he touched your cheek softly, “don’t worry about it, okay? I won’t just stick it in you before you’re ready. Like I said,” his eyes followed his fingers as they lightly tamed your hair, “I want you to feel good, real good.”
Exhaling slowly, you tipped towards him and rested your forehead against his, letting the still very present arousal overflow your body once more, “I do really want it to fit…”
Kissing the tip of your nose, he smiled, “oh yeah?”
“Yeah…” you nodded slowly and reached a hand in between your bodies to undo the last two buttons on your nightshirt. Pausing a moment before you pulled it off your shoulders, Steve’s big eyes sucked you in.
He hadn’t looked down at your exposed self yet. Simply kept his eyes glued to yours a moment longer as he uttered in pure adoration, “you look so beautiful.”
Slowly letting the fabric fall, cascading down your back, you leaned forward the last few inches and kissed him softly.
Fumbling for the bottom of his t-shirt, you pulled it up, parting just long enough for you to toss it down onto the floor.
You felt both of his hands run down your back, confidently slipping down into your underwear, grabbing your ass and pulling you closer. Letting out a needy groan against your tongue, he glided his fingers up to your hips and lifted your pelvis up, sitting you up on your knees. The height difference also made your lips tear away from his, as you know ogled down into his dark eyes. 
“Let’s get these off,” hooking his fingers into each side of your panties, he landed a few playful pecks around your right nipple as it was now directly in front of his nose. Feeling the fabric shimmy down your legs, you reached out to support yourself on his shoulders, slowly lifting each knee off of the mattress one at a time and letting him help get you completely bare. 
Wrapping his arms around you, he laid back down and took you with him. Tugging his bottoms down just a tad bit more with one hand, you felt his rock hard cock pulsate against your stomach as you laid there on top of him.
Pulling you up, he effortlessly repositioned you back onto his hips. The light gasp that escaped your lips as you felt the intimate contact only seized to make him smile.
Your sobbing cunt was directly against his length. You couldn’t tell if it was his pulse you felt or if it was your own, all you knew was that it sent a shiver down your spine.
Lightly digging his fingers into your sides, he moved your hips for you, gliding your slick all over the underside of his dick. Sitting up, jaw slack, you grounded yourself with the palm of your hand against his fuzzy chest. 
“O-oh,” you whimpered as you attempted to do the movements yourself, grinding yourself directly against him. Your dripping folds engulfed him perfectly, hugged him and lathered him up, producing beautifully lewd wet noises with every needy hump.
“That’s it,” his brows furrowed in pleasure, “does that feel good, baby?”
Only the most pathetic of whimpers escaped your lips in confirmation as you closed your eyes and angled your hips so that you could get more pressure on your needy little clit.
“Shit, that feels amazing,” you felt his fingers find your nipples in a toe-curling pinch, “I can’t fucking wait to be inside of you. Remember how big you thought my fingers felt inside you? Just one of them? Imagine how my dick will feel. I’m gonna stretch you out so good, make you a craving addict.”
“P-please, Steve,” you dug your nails into his skin as you desperately chased your high. 
“I know ace, I know,” he said in an almost mockingly comforting tone, “not yet. Trust me, I would ruin you if you just hopped on right now.”
Just as you were about to come up with a hazy counterargument, he impatiently flipped you around, nearly knocking the wind out of you. Snapping your eyes open, you saw him above you, his heaving chest illuminated by the soft moonlight seeping in through the curtains you never remembered to close all of the way. 
“But maybe you’d like that, huh?” he leaned back on his knees and spread your clinging thighs apart, “you want me to ruin this little pussy, ace?” you glanced down to see him guide his massive cock over your sloppy core, driving the leaky tip well past your screaming clit, letting his mind wander with the image of just how far he’d fill you up. 
“Jesus fuck,” you cursed at the staggering perspective.
Holding the base with a few fingers, he slapped the heavy length against your clit a couple of times, each one making your whole body jolt and jerk around on the linens. 
Gliding through your folds, his thumb and forefinger came to pinch your lips around him, bullying your clit with every fibre of his being, “you wanna feel all of me inside of you? Feel the way it’s gonna bulge out against your stomach?” 
Your legs tried to close around him as you moaned out, being so dangerously close to your own high, but he just pushed your limb down, the added contact of the pressure of his palm against your inner thigh mixed with the stretch he unknowingly induced in your hip somehow pushed you over the edge. 
Body trembling, you cried out a slurred, “Steve!” as he kept going, too hypnotised by your nude form not to accidentally overstimulate you.
And with a string of curses, he begrudgingly ripped away from you and beat his cock till it spurted out hot white ropes all over your panting belly. 
“Fuck,” you stared up at Steve’s half-closed lids, “I love you so much.”
Blinking at you a moment, regaining his breath, he slowly started giggling warmly, “I love you too, ace,” and leaned down to give you a joyful kiss, “now, let’s go back to sleep before the sun comes up.”
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next chapter
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© 2022 thyme-in-a-bubble 
611 notes · View notes
torao-chan · 28 days
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since I've noticed a few people -both returning, long term, and new users- reblogging tumblr-know-how posts going 'ah, I didn't know that, thank you'- here's a gentle reminder from a long time tumblr user
remember to flick off the op out settings on each of your blogs that allows for ai training off your blog's content
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this allows tumblr to train ai off both your original and reblogged posts. so both art/writing/anything you post and the content of whatever you reblog.
Instructions for finding this setting are below the cut.
On PC (via web browser), this setting can be found by
1) clicking on 'Settings' on the left hand side and then
2) clicking on each individual blog's name. Yes, it has to be turned off for all of them individually.
And yes, after clicking on each blog's name you'll have to click on 'Settings' again to re-access the list.
On Mobile (via web browser) you have to
1) open the side menu available by the button on the top left of your screen then
2) click the down arrow next to 'Account' and your list of blogs will appear under the 'Likes'/'Following'/'Log Out' options. If it isn't already open
3) open a blog's options menu by clicking the down arrow next to their name. Then
4) click on blog settings and scroll all the way to the bottom. Above the options 'Blocked Tumblrs'/'Export'/'Delete Blog' you will find the slider you have to turn off.
Again, you will have to do this for each blog again starting from step one.
Again, this protects both your original content and the content of the creators you love and reblog. It is an op-out function which means that when you create a blog, it is automatically set to train AI off your blog.
This is a relatively new feature for returning bloggers- as in it was added in the last year or so- but not new-new by any means. It has not been changed since implementation as far as I know.
(Also I don't use the mobile app so I couldn't tell you if that layout is different but alskjklgf if it is, someone let me know and I'll get my friend who uses it to walk me through how she finds it and add it on here.)
Thank you for your time and attention! Happy blogging! (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ)
10 notes · View notes
exoticalmonde · 9 months
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Part III. Hortus de Escapismo Dr. Evealia's Reaction
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Transcribed: [The executor suddenly points.
Federico: Come out.
Lively Child: Ah... he found us.]
They are so cute but god do I need Executor with his gun pointed at the little kids and their reaction being... 0. Like, absolutely not impressed and simply disappointed he did find them so quickly.
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READ MORE to find out what happens to the cute little blue-haired child with the adorable duck sock puppet by clicking this funky little button.
(But WARNING, the following post contains spoilers about the entire Hortus de Escapismo event, including the story, art and my commentary. I think this part is covering HE-4 to the first half of HE-6)
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THEY ALMOST FREAKING EXPLODE THAT'S WHAT HAPPENS HOLY MOLY STOP TRYING TO GIVE ME HEART ATTACKS ONE OF THOSE WILL BE REAL!!!
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No... My heart, oh no, not the flowers...
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Transcribed: [Gerald once said the Sakraz have no home, only war that follows them wherever they go. They swore to their lord in the hope of finding a home of their own.]
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Oh Clément I am so sorry... Stupid wench was she the one who set the chapel on fire? Is she even capable of using that kind of arts? Or is this an illusion? I am actually really heartbroken, I like Clément and I was really happy that he existed as a fellow Felafia, but... Why is it just not working out for this guy?
I'll get you a greenhouse with all you need it in babo, stay strong.
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Yeah, my heart is.
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Transcribed: [Race is not proof of innocence. I would not hesitate to destroy the sacrarium if I thought it necessary.]
*Hands Federico the 'best not racist' award*
Or ultimately
*Hands Federico the 'most racist' award*
At this point I don't know, but you do what you're doing.
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Hey, the baby ducks found a new mom.
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Transcribed: [
Lemuen: Quiet. This is a resedential area. You'll bother the others.
Twisted Monster: (Growls)]
You know what, forget the whole 'amazing strong character' trope that Arknights has going on for everybody, can we just sit and enjoy the fact they always talk to themselves, or to something that is supposedly incapable of understanding them the same way every person speaks to their pets. They don't expect a reaction, and in moments where it FEELS like it was a reaction they have a kick out of it, but otherwise they're... so sweet to watch. In a horrendeous and terribly traumatic way.
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Transcribed: [The Executor kneels down. No one pays attention to the dirt on the edge of his robe, and the adornments that represent his status.
Federico Giallo gazes straight into the children's eyes.
Federico: The disappearence of an inhabitant is within the scope of my mission.
Federico: Yes, I will find your mother.]
What a wonderful, wonderful, amazing scene. To watch Federico retain his personality but also grow as a character after being introduced to his tasks in the new role he carries is so refreshing. Reading the story feels so short, the levels are hell, but the way he is growing is GOOD and well-paced.
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Honestly, bast scene. I don't care what terrors and sadness or how cool they will be, this is peak interaction.
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[Quite the lady's man, aren't you?]
GERALD YOU TEASE!
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Shots fired, yet no guns were raised.
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What do I feel about Aulus apart from the fact he kind of reminds me of a taller Pantalone (Genshin Impact)? He fed the creature, he protects it and then just shows up here and there to talk to people and refuses to elaborate. What is your plan? What are you even doing with your life, Father Aulus?
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Though guys, I think he found the coolest stick...
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SHE STOOD! SHE STOOD UP!! LEMUEN???? STOOD UP??? FROM HER WHEELCHAIR????
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[You may not set foot in Paradise.]
LOOK AT HER GOOOOOOOOOOOO!!
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[The thin door plank is pushed open from the outside.]
I want to die.
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ANYTHING BUT THAT PLEASE
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[The unsuspected visitors do not disturb their soft breathing.]
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[It falls into the soft, meek little 'prison'.]
Wait a second...?
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[Twisted Monster: Eren... Sara...]
Oh thank GOODNESS, my heart was about to leap out from my chest. What a rollercoaster. I am so glad they're safe, thank you.
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pavardscherie · 2 years
Note
Omg do you know that TikTok trend where you put lipstick on and then you show your boyfriend covered in kisses? Could you do that with Benji? I know he would eat that trend up hehe <333
kissable, benjamin pavard
pairing: benjamin pavard & female
summary: she does the tiktok lipstick trend with benjamin, and he’s completely focused.
izzy talks;
alright. i had to search that one but, oh my gosh. benji would totally eat that up. so please, deliver me benjamin pavard with express delivery to my front door, and i’ll do that trend a million times with him! *insert heart eyes*
i hope you like it! and thank you for the request!
“so, you’re smearing it on purpose?” benjamin raised a brow at his girlfriend, who leaned over the table to perfectly apply the lipstick. the for you page was constantly filled with videos of girls with their significant other, and their face covered is lipstick stains. from dark red to completely smeared in a pink shade.
nodding the head slightly to assure she lined her lips perfectly before smearing it, she turned around and faced her waiting boyfriend. shirtless, dressed in nothing else but a low-hanging pair of dark gray sweatpants. if benjamin wouldn’t be hers, she would envy the woman who got the chance to see him in this calm and comfortable kind of moments.
brown curls still damp from the morning shower, thin hairs stuck to his forehead. blue bags underneath his gleaming eyes were a reminder of the exhausting training sessions, and stressful days as a football player at bayern munich. “what’s the next step again?”
“ah benji..” she trailed off, shaking the head with an almost inaudible giggle. cluelessness twisted his facial features. bushy eyebrows furrowed together, nose scrunched slightly. “come here.” she instructed, waving him closer to her with her hand. arm outstretched, waiting to have his fingers wrapped around hers.
benjamin reacted in seconds, taking her open hand in his and closing the distance between them. pointer and middle finger touches his cheek, while the thumb went to the other side of his face. quick but still gently, she pulled his head closer. deep red colored lips pursed, a long kiss pressed to the span of his cheek. repeating the gesture across his forehead, over the other side of his face and around his chin, she covered him in the remains of the lipstick. “first step, done.”
“hmhm.” benji hummed, raveling in the feeling of her soft lips across his face. it would be an understatement to say that he enjoyed the days off. more like, completely loved the additional time for their relationship. she grabbed the phone from the table, and opened the tiktok app. another video of a girl, with lipstick in her hand appeared on the screen, and the left corner of her mouth twitched.
clicking the spinning record in the right corner, she used the sound for the video, she was about to create. many people followed the female, always waiting for an update or a small glimpse at benjamin pavard in the background. yet, she never wanted to deliver until today. changing the camera setting, she had a chance to look at her reflection on the screen.
red lipstik was never her first choice, a little bit of gloss always seemed to be enough. brushing fallen out strands out of her face, she grabbed the lipstick once again and prepared to start the tiktok. "what do i have to do again? i want it to be perfect, mon amor." benjamin interfered before she had a chance to click to bright red button in the bottom middle of the her phone.
"benji.." she whined. five times. she explained it five times to the centre back, and still, pavard asked again. "i'll draw over my lip, then you show your arm and use your thumb to wipe it off. i turn the camera, and show your lipstick-covered face."
"alright, okay." benjamin nodded the head multiple times in a row. in the past, she has done many vlogs about a match day, or filmed their walks through the woods to inform her followers about beautiul, quiet places around munich. yet, she refused to show him and his handsome face to the audience. there was never a reason to rub their relationship into the face of the public. "we've got this." benjamin mumbled to himself, desiring a perfect tiktok for her page.
the music started as the timer ran out, and she was completely focused on the creation of a video. covering her already red lips in another layer of lipstick, she casually smeared it underneath the left corner. with a deep breath, benjamin stepped closer to his girlfriend, his arm appeared on the screen and the rough tip of his calloused fingers wiped over her chin.
with a wide smile, the lips lifted towards the corners of her eyes in a pleased way, she turned the camera. pavard appeared in the video, smiling from ear to ear, covered in the remains of red lipstick. the music ended, and the video started to repeat itself multiple times. "that looks good." benjamin remarked, the hands placed on the back of the chair, towering above his girlfriend to see the result.
nodding at his comment, she added a handful of tags before posting the video. it didn't take long until the first likes and comment notifications appeared on her screen. scrolling through, fans of benjamin already went crazy and commented. "well, they love you." she giggled, placing the vibrating phone on the table.
"and i love you." benjamin added to the conversation, leaning further down to place a featherlight kiss on the top of her head.
115 notes · View notes
apricusnights · 3 months
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Chapter Fourteen: Face The Music.
Author's note: The songs linked here are usually not exactly what the characters are singing. They are just meant to be examples.
Location: Apricus City.
A mysterious broadcast has started on every channel. The picture remains static until what seems like an individual partially comes into view. They are seen wearing a multi-colored tuxedo gown with musical notes printed on it here and there. Their face is partially covered by an opera mask, and for whatever reason they appear to be wearing a top hat. When they speak it's translated but their Réunion accent is unmistakable.
???: "Ello Apricus City! Don't try to change the channel, I'm everywhere at once! The true star of the show has finally arrived to bring joy to your boring little lives! Ah but where are my manners? You may call me The Conductor!" Waving their conductor's baton with a flourish.
Conductor: "I am here to take you away from all of your silly little problems! I shall brighten up your day and give you the gift of MUSIC! You see all the world is a stage, so it's time to play your parts! Sing your songs! Bare your very soul! Shine bright!" A series of strange notes is suddenly heard as the Conductor draws symbols in the air with their baton. The symbols appearing on everyone's screen one after the other before the Conductor takes a bow and the broadcast ends.
Location: Board Room, Bundles of Lavender corporate headquarters.
Amorette is addressing a small group of board members who have decided it's necessary to move on from the Lavender family's leadership.
Amorette: "It's simply the truth, isn't it? Look at Nava for example. She's a sweet girl but she's nothing but trouble for our corporate image. Her parents are...stuck in the past. If you continue down the road, you're on, this company will burn itself to the ground."
Board Member: "What you're proposing is far more than just a corporate takeover. You're talking about.."
Amorette clicks off the security systems. The cameras power down as she walks over and begins to sing as she stands behind each board member. As the song goes on she presses a button on the wall that opens up several windows.
The song comes to end with her standing behind the board member who originally questioned her. She smiles and takes hold of his chair. Her nails impale him as she wheels the chair over and casually pushes him out of the window.
Amorette: "Any other objections? Good.."
Several days later.
Location: Shopping District, Cherry Hills.
Ivory: "Molly you know I appreciate retail therapy as much as the next person but should we really be out doing this with everything going on?"
Molly: "Do I have to remind you that all of that crap is not our problems? Who cares about some weird musician making empty threats? I've got an unlimited credit card and there are SALES EVERYWHERE!"
Molly grabs Ivory and begins singing as she pulls her from store to store.
The song ends as Molly and Ivory leave a store followed by several people carrying their bags.
Molly: "That was weird.."
Ivory: "Told you."
Location: Upper Docks.
Nava: "I hate being here, it smells like fish."
Bonnie: "You like fish."
Nava: "I like good fish, not fish that smell like fish."
Van: "So remind me again why you're here?"
Nava: "I need to find out what route my parents ship is on and when they'll be back. Something is going on at the company and I don't really know how to handle it."
Van: "I can ask Viridian to track it down. But now you've got me curious. Oh hey Lye, what's up?"
Lye waves to everyone before walking over and handing a bunch of tickets to Van.
Lye: "Hand these out to everyone, they are for the upcoming show. And for the love of everything, please behave. I don't know if I can stop Amias from murdering you with a hat pin."
Van: "That's oddly specific but fine, I'll try to be good. Anyway Nava, what happened?"
Nava: "A friend of mine told me that the board is threating to kick me out. I think something happened because one of the older members is missing."
Van: "You have more friends?"
Nava: "I have plenty of friends! The exact amount I need."
Bonnie: "Yeah she's known Amorette for a while."
Lye: "What did you say..."
Bonnie: "Amorette, that's her name.."
Lye: "Oh fuck.."
Van: "So she's not dead..that's unfortunate."
Nava: "What am I missing here?"
Van starts to talk about his previous relationship with Amorette but suddenly bursts into song.
Lye: "I didn't know you could sing.."
Van: Visibly confused "I can't.."
Nava: "Pardon my language but..shit."
Location: Diamond District.
Jae: "I can't help but feel like we should be out there trying to catch this Conductor idiot."
Amelia: "Don't worry about it, I've been looking into places they have supposedly robbed and think I may have a pattern."
Jae: "Working on a date is supposed to be my job."
Amelia: "Har har. Listen Aryl, this is a karaoke bar isn't it? Let's go sing something!"
Jae: Getting dragged over to the machine by Amelia "I can't sing.."
Amelia: "Nobody here can, so just let it go."
Jae: "We're not singing that one. What else does this machine have.."
Amelia: "OH this one!"
The song is cued up, Amelia and Jae take tuns singing it. Strangely Jae does exceptionally well.
Amelia; "That was amazing! Wait, why did you know that song s well.."
Jae: "We need to find the Conductor..."
Amelia: "But you.."
Jae: "Come on, I've got an alert coming in."
Location: Solis Heights.
Fisher: "You mean to tell me NO surveillance systems have any recordings of this idiot? This is the seventh place they have robbed and all we get is "everyone got caught up in a dance number" and there is no footage of the thief."
Marigold: "Maybe you should check with the Union rep.."
Lapis: "That would be me. I assure you that there is no problem with the power grid, the security systems should be working smoothly."
Marigold: "Well that obviously ain't the case is it. Union sure seems to be slackin lately, and where the hell is your boss?"
A few strange notes are heard playing over everyone's aShines. Lapis suddenly finds himself backed up by several union workers that are breakdancing and acting as a hype crew. He can't seem to control himself as he raps about the situations the union is dealing with.
Lapis looks mortified as he finishes and proceeds to go back to work.
Fisher: "What..was THAT?"
Location: Evergreen Theater, Evergreen Basin.
Just as the current play is about to head to intermission, the lights suddenly turn off save for one spotlight on the stage. The Conductor dramatically descends from the rafters and poses for the crowd.
Conductor: "What a wonderful stage! Too bad it's currently being used by such amateurs!" Smirking and spinning out of the way as Mel tried to tackle them.
"Oh what's the matter, aren't you fond of the way I've turned your boring little lives upside down? You've been making such wonderful music! Everything seems so much brighter now don't you think?"
"I have to admit I may have some selfish reasons, see I have a few sponsors back home who are always willing to fund my next performance. I just have to do a little shopping for them, sometimes I have to clean up some messes as well but I HATE getting my hands dirty.." Snapping their white gloves.
"You know, I can't help but feel a bit of tension on the stage...could it perhaps be our leading man?" Pointing toward Amias with their baton. "Maybe you have something to say to someone in the crowd! Someone I've noticed you can't take your eyes off of! Well spill it! Let the world know your feelings!" A strange symbol appeared in the air before flying over but before it could strike Amias it was blasted apart by a strange beam shot from the King of Hearts' cane.
King of Hearts: "Nice try but I've seen this trick before! Now give it up and make this easy on yourself!" He approached the Conductor, both ready to clash.
Just as this happened the PWSB burst into the theater causing the Conductor to vanish with a theatrical flourish in a cloud of smoke.
Lye: "Are you alright?"
Amias: "Thanks to our friend over...where did he go?"
Lye: "I think maybe you and Van need to have a talk some time. You always tell me not to bottle things up. Might be time to take your own advice."
Amias: "I..yeah. Let's just finish the play for now."
Mel: "Showoff. Anyway, sorry about the interruption everyone. We'll be back momentarily!"
Location: Apricus Rooftops.
The Conductor leapt across the rooftops, pursued by the King of Hearts. Both jumping to opposite rails on the train tracks and sliding along. The King of Hearts' cane clashed against the Conductor's baton, every strike sending more of the strange symbols out across the city. Every time one struck someone they'd be compelled to suddenly burst into song.
Night, and Puck found themselves struck by a symbol as they exited the bounty hunting lodge with Cerise, and Sunil. Unable to stop themselves from singing while their respective partners stood dumbfounded.
Sable: "That was so COOL!"
Hugo: "If one of those things hits me, I want you to shoot me before I start singing."
The PWSB sped through the streets attempting to keep up with the Conductor and the King. Both of whom were still battling across the rooftops. More of the symbols flew through the air.
Violet: "It's a sort of cloaking technology."
Catalina: "Are you sure?"
Violet: "Yeah, Templars use something like it to avoid being caught on enemy surveillance. You'll still show up but think of it like a really laggy game where the model pops in and out."
Catalina: "You hearing this Laurel?"
Laurel: Via aShine "Got it, makes sense. Listen, I hear sirens in the distance..I think we might be able to corner this weirdo."
Catalina: "Got it, will try and meet up with you."
Violet: "Hey before you go, uh are you still holding auditions for a co-host. Ya know, for your dating show cause I.."
Radio Nearby: "And now, the hit new single from Bubblegum Explosion!"
Just as the song start, Catalina and Violet were struck by the symbols and began singing and dancing uncontrollably to the song.
After it was over both tried to catch their breath.
Catalina: "That never happened. And..yeah stop by the studio."
Violet: "AWESOME!"
Conductor: "Isn't it wonderful! Look around you, listen to the music! You plebians dare call me a criminal but all I'm doing is making the world more theatrical!"
King of Hearts: "Maybe I'd give you some slack if you weren't stealing from every district in the city and making people dance to death!"
Conductor: "Oh I haven't done that in ages but I do remember it being quite fun! Maybe I'll try it once this chase is over and I've disposed of you!"
King of Hearts: "You really are a lunatic.."
Conductor: "Baby you have no idea!"
The Conductor sent a symbol flying through the air and made it strike the engineer driving one of the trains heading right toward the king. The engineer was compelled to sing and dance, bumping into the controls and speeding up the train.
The Conductor smirked and leapt off the tracks, waving at the King. The King of Hearts had no choice but to let him go, instead jumping to another rail and shooting out a grappling cable. He attached it to the door and pulled himself to it, opening it up and slamming on the breaks to bring the train to a stop.
Several hours later.
Location: Upper Docks.
Conductor: "I've loaded everything you asked for on a ship. They've no idea what the cargo actually is, and with everything going on they won't notice the ship leaving in the middle of the night. You'll have your prize soon."
They were speaking to someone via their modified aShine while overseeing the last of the cargo be loaded on to the ship.
Conductor: "I'll get back to you later. I think I'm about to have company." Signaling for the ship to disembark. They made their way out of the warehouse smiling.
Laurel: "Told you we could track them down.."
Jae: "You're under arrest!"
Several PWSB soldiers pointed their weapons at the Conductor, but they seemed unbothered. Instead taking a bow before twirling through the line of officers. Their baton making quick work of anyone it touched, dropping them to the floor with a jolt of electricity.
Blaine managed to use his gloves to block the attack and pushed the Conductor back before he could be shocked. Donovan, and Laurel both fired at the Conductor to keep them busy.
Amelia: "Keep it up, don't let them breathe. If they can't concentrate, they can't use their ability!"
Jae rushed forward, swinging his sword down and clashing against the Conductor's baton. It gave Blaine just enough time to land a few strong punches to the Conductor. The Conductor's focus shifted to Blaine momentarily which allowed Donovan to fire an arrow that broke apart and wrapped a wire around the Conductor's legs, effectively rendering them unable to move.
Jae was finally able to knock the baton away before pointing his sword at the defeated enemy.
Amelia: "Don't try any of your tricks. I know what kind of tech you've been using, and I augmented Donovan's arrows with our own tech to cancel out yours."
Laurel: "What about the whole singing..thing?"
Amelia: "They need to focus it using technology. I imagine the ability on its own may be a little bit.."
Conductor: "Unstable? Well, you know what they say, the ability does match the user! I will say bravo for figuring everything out..well almost everything."
Amelia: "Who hired you...why did they go through the trouble of getting you on a prison transport close to here AND break you out just so you could end up in Apricus?"
Conductor: "It's all part of the show sweetheart. Though as much as I hate to admit it, I'm just the opening act!" The Conductor's baton began beeping.
The baton spun around and flew through the air toward the Conductor, but Amelia reached out and grabbed it, only for Amelia to be pulled in by the Conductor themselves when she got too close.
Conductor: "Ready for the finale? Shall we go out with a BANG?"
Laurel lined up a shot but waited until Jae was in the right position. Jae got a running start before Laurel fired, her shot striking the Conductor's left hand and causing their grip to loosen. Amelia managed to pull away just as Jae shoulder tackled the Conductor off the dock.
The Conductor landed in the water far below just as their baton went off with a huge explosion. Part of the dock was blown apart, debris flying everywhere.
Donovan and Blaine rushed over to look down into the water. There was no body, no trace of anyone. Just pieces of the half-destroyed dock.
Laurel: "Larsen is gonna be pissed."
Jae: "I'm sure the Bureau will cover the repair costs. Though I'd rather not stick around to see the Captain's reaction."
Amelia: "So you gonna tell me how you knew that song?"
Jae: "Don't you have a report to file?"
Amelia shook her head as the group opted to take their leave from the docks. A radio left out by one of the dock workers began to play a song that seemed to go unnoticed.
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erosmutt · 6 months
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ⵌ ꜰᴀᴡɴ ⨾ SCOTT BARRINGER
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𖦹 age gap (scott is 18, reader is in her 30s), brat!sub!scott, dom!teacher!reader, classroom sex, reader is referred to as 'Miss', 1.3K words
“God, why do you always have to make this so hard for me?!” Scott whines, pacing in front of your desk. You sit at your desk, hands folded with your chin resting on them, your eyes following him as he goes back and forth.
He was always a brat. Always, without fail. His father requested you to give him some tutoring after school so he could keep his grades up and, in turn, stay on the football team.
“You’re so stupid! Do you even know what you’re doing?! Why can’t I get another teacher? Why can’t Mr. Scarbrow tutor me?! At least he acts like he cares!” he continued, making you roll your eyes and let out a heavy sigh, your hands going to massage your temples. He was such an insufferable student. He was never not complaining about something. Without fail, Scott found something to complain about. The temp of the room, the other students being annoying, something.
“Scott,” you begin, and your tone makes Scott stop to look up at you, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. “Yeah?” you give him a warm, maternal smile, and the poor boy’s entire body racked with a shudder. “How about we move onto another problem, hm? Here,” you stand and walk to the board. He swallows, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as his eyes stay fixed on your ass in the ungodly tight pencil skirt you decided to wear as you move around, the sound of your heels clicking against the linoleum fading into the background of Scott’s little world. You pick up the marker and begin writing.
“So we have your preimage, and your image. Now, when you move it, you’re translating, like so…” and now your voice fades into the background. All Scott could focus on was your wide hips and thick legs, your white blouse letting him faintly see the band of your sapphire blue bra. He slides into the desk at the very front of the class, shifting around and bouncing his legs to distract him from the growing tent in his sweatpants.
With his hands gripping the front edge of the desk, he licks his lips once more and swallows, his tummy coiling. Maybe, just maybe, he could get away with it…
So he tries. As your back is turned, Scott trails his hand down, shoving it into his sweatpants. He rubs his shaft over his boxers, fingers fiddling with the opening. Once his hand makes contact with his shaft, he whimpers. “Oh…”
You turn to look at him. “Scott?” He freezes, and slowly looks up at you, his baby blues wide with shock. You set the marker down and walk up to him, a warm smile on your face. “And what do we have here, hm~?”
Scott was absolutely fucked. How would he explain this? ‘Sorry Miss, I got horny and was jacking off to your ass’?
“Uh, I uh, uh,” “Shh,” you respond, reaching down to gently caress his cheek. “Shhh, it’s alright Scotty.” You give him another warm smile, making him whimper. You reminded him so much of his stepmother, but better. He didn’t feel gross, he felt fulfilled.
“Can you stand up for me Scott?” He nods, removing his hand and standing up. You led him to your desk, then took a seat atop it, leaving Scott there, standing before you like a lost child. “Um, Miss?” He murmurs to you, all his brattiness gone. “Miss,” “ah-ah, this entire time you’ve been acting out, Scotty. You have to listen to me now, alright?”
He nods. “‘M listening.” He watches as you reach forward and brush your fingers through his curls. “Good boy, come here, come closer.” You coax him forward as if he was an animal you were attempting to befriend. He leans into your touch, stepping closer until he’s flush against you, standing between your legs. His hands come to rest on your thighs, kneading the flesh, making his cock twitch.
All of you - your whole body made Scott writhe with need. The stretch marks on your inner thighs, the pudge of your stomach, your plush breasts making a few buttons of your blouse look like they were holding on by a thread, literally. You lean back on your hands, allowing Scott’s hands to roam your body. “Miss, can I?”
You give him that same warm smile. “Of course.” Wasting no time, Scott pushes the front of your skirt up, and his knees nearly buckle at the sight of your lace panties that were the same sapphire color your bra was. Like the teenage boy he was, he quickly shoved his bottoms down in one go, tugged your panties to the side, and guided his cock into your hole (after missing a couple times).
As soon as his tip is engulfed by your gummy walls, he whines and plants his hands flat onto the desk. “Ohh god,” He whimpers out, hips stuttering. Poor thing couldn’t even handle it! You reach up and stroke his rosy cheek with the pad of your thumb. “Shh, good boy Scott.” He leans down and rests his forehead on your shoulder, his abs flexing as he tries to not look like too much of a little bitch.
You reach down and gently wrap your free hand around his shaft, guiding him into your pussy, your legs wrapped around his waist to aid in moving him towards you. “There you go sweetie, there you go.” Once Scott was finally bottomed out inside you, he bucks his hips subconsciously, needing some sort of stimulation. “Hnn,”
Letting out a soft laugh, you reach up to press a soft kiss to his cheek. “Keep going Scotty, you can do it,” you murmur into his ear. Your voice was so gentle and maternal, he couldn’t take it. He reaches up and fumbles with your buttons, tugging at the thin fabric of your blouse. You let him figure it out, watching as he tugs it apart, finally getting access. He lifts his head and when he sees the plush fat of your chest, he lets out a sob.
Scott was so incredibly overstimulated - his cock buried inside you, the sight of your matured body, raging hormones. He tugs at the cups of your bra eagerly, pulling them down. “Scotty,” you coo, your hand now resting on the back of his neck. “You can move for me, yeah? You can move for Miss?”
Hearing you refer to yourself in third person made Scott let out a half-groan half-whine. He nods eagerly. “C’mon, use your words, love.” He swallows and tries to catch his breath. “Nnh, yeah, uh-huh, gonna…”
You give him a fake pout. “Poor baby,” Scott nods. He wasn’t even really coherent anymore, he was just trying to keep from falling to his knees. Finally finding the strength, he begins to buck his hips forward, rutting instead of thrusting properly. He babbles incoherently, his brows furrowed and voice strained. He leans down and buries his face in your tits, his hands squeezing at them as well. “‘na, gonna, ha, ssss, oh,” Scott slurs.
He cries out, hands finding your biceps for support as he spills his load inside you without warning. You just run your hand through his hair, raking your nails along his scalp. “Good boy, Scotty.” He murmurs something incoherent in response. “Did so well sweetie.” He murmurs a repetition of your praise, drawing a soft giggle from you, and earning him a kiss on his warm forehead.
It was rare that Scott was able to earn praise from anyone. His father, his stepmother, not even his coach would make him feel this special. You knew full well you had no business doing this, but seeing him so pathetic and brought down off his imaginary high horse filled you with satisfaction. Knowing he had no one else to cry to (besides Mr. Scarbrow, but you would make sure Scott kept his mouth closed!) except you made you shiver with a perverted sense of power. In due time, Scott would act up again - you would just have to put him back in his place.
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M-more armin vs eren drabbles please
WC: 3.2k
Title: Melted Candles
Warnings: possessive behavior, cheating, armin x reader x eren, obsession, unhealthy relationships. manipulator armin & toxic eren.
You’re fidgeting with the hem of your short dress that your loving boyfriend bought you, nursing a drink, and half-heartedly scrolling through your phone.
Sitting on the olive couch alone as the musings of a party transpire, you eye the big and colorful banner sporting the words “Happy 20th Birthday Eren!”.
“It’s like Eren to be late to his own birthday party huh?”
A smooth, gentle voice breaks you out of your trance. You turn sideways to face Armin Arlert, a pretty boy with short-cropped blond hair and wide oceanic eyes. He’s all dressed up in a deep grey turtleneck, navy dress pants, and an expensive Omega watch on his wrist.
You must have looked frightened because he chuckles as he takes a seat next to you, a respectful distance away, “Sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you. Are you having fun?”
“Uh well it’s a surprise party, it’s not like Eren knows he’s supposed to be here.” You have an immediate desire to slap a hand over your mouth after the words spillover. You wince, not entirely in love with the fact that it was your first instinct to defend Eren.
If you had been more observant, you would have noticed the corners of his lips flick upwards in amusement. But Armin is observant enough for the both of you. He notes the color of embarrassment in your cheeks and continues the subject with ease.
“Ah, yeah. That’s right. Eren hates celebrating his birthday, but they're always a good excuse to get everyone together" He pauses before grinning so wide it doesn't look genuine, "-maybe this is more for us than him.”.
There’s an underlying tension in his words you can’t make heads and tails off. It reminds you of how truly little you knew of Eren's very own best friend.
You smile brightly, channeling all the optimism you could into changing the topic: “Everyone’s trying their best today! Sasha did all the catering and managed to leave the cake perfectly alone even though it’s her favorite flavor. She has the patience of a saint today.”
As if on cue, there’s a commotion in the background. Jean yells at Sasha, “Don’t finish all the lemon-pepper wings Potato Girl!”
Armin laughs and it's a pretty sound, a sound that reminds you of a bell chime. Unconsciously, he shifts closer to you, knees knocking into yours.
“Yeah, you’re right. Connie's even hosting it, and he let us decorate his man cave."
You look at the streamers and balloons, and Armin follows your eyes.
“You did a great job decorating.”
You blush, “It was honestly a team effort. Mikasa did way more, I promise.”
“So humble”, he teased. As he smooths his slacks, your eyes can’t help but fall on the shine of the silver band on his slender finger, an engagement ring.
“Annie couldn’t make it today?” There’s a flash of a grimace on his face but he schools his features right away.
“She doesn’t really like parties,” he laughs softly, “She’s like Eren in that way.”
“Oh,” you paused. He was clearly hiding something but it wasn’t in your place to pry. You didn’t know much about Annie. In fact, you were a little intimidated by her icy demeanor and arctic eyes. It amused you at first when you learned she was Armin’s partner.
Opposites must attract, because where Annie was the cold seeping into your bones, Armin was a furnace radiating warmth.
There wasn’t much more to say with the conversation heading to a peaceful silence, until his arms lightly touch yours, “I’m really glad you came.”
His fingertips graze the sleeve of your dress.
You flush, “Well, I wouldn’t be a very good girlfriend if I didn't come to his birthday party.”
The pretty blond clicks his tongue, “I suppose.” He inhales, thumbs swiping the rim of his glass, “You’re too good for him. Do you know that?”
To say you were surprised would be an understatement. You don’t have a response ready but Armin continues, “I love Eren of course. Been friends with him since we were children but-” Deep sigh, “I feel like I barely know him anymore. No one knows him anymore.”
In a small voice, you squeak “I do.” But the unsureness of your tone made your words seem like it was a question.
Armin smiles, one that’s filled with mirth.
Boldly, he squeezes your thigh, the flesh right below where your dress ends, “You deserve better.” His oceanic eyes seem darker under the dim lighting.
Why weren’t you moving away? Were you letting his hand itch closer to roaming the softness underneath silky fabric?
You swivel your head around, praying no one is seeing anything. Thankfully everyone was too swept up in their own conversations. As if to soothe you, his hands draw circles on the soft pliant skin, “Don’t worry, no one can see us.”
The ring glints harshly. Admittedly, Eren’s soft-spoken best friend is just a little attractive. You didn’t always think to see him this way, but Armin changed, and all the general anxiety he possessed matured into a quiet confidence.
He reminds you of Eren in that way. But still, you're at crossroads here. Is Armin making a move on you? Is he warning you? Should you even be here right n-
Your internal monologue is interrupted by Mikasa clapping her hands, and then putting a finger on her lips, “We’re going to turn off the lights, ok? They’ll be here in a few minutes. When Eren starts coming in, yell surprise.” Armin hand’s leave your legs, the warmth gone.
“Oy, oy, oy. Don’t we need a signal?” Connie asks, confusion apparent on his face.
“Jesus Connie, if you can’t even figure this out, what are we going to do with you?” quips Jean.
Mikasa shakes her head.
Sasha lightly punches her best friend, “It’s okay Coomer, just follow my lead.”
“How will that work since you’re stupider than me?” The hazel eyed boy asks, voice dripping in concern. “Eh?” Sasha replies with an equally concerned tone.
Mikasa pinches the bridge of her nose, “I’m going to turn the light off now.”
Eren would be here soon. You barely register Armin putting his arm around the couch, not around you per se, but the proximity was close enough to send your heart racing.
In the switch of a light, the room was engulfed in darkness and excited giggles that Mikasa promptly hushed. And then was just the sound of breathing. You could hear yours and you could hear Armin’s.
Softly, the blond uttered, “I’m going to do something I’ve always wanted to do.” You could feel featherlight fingers tilting your jaw, and capturing your pillowy lips.
The doorknob rattled. Soon after, light from the hallway trickled in. A still moment. As soon as the kiss started, it ended. A flash of light exploded before your eyes and a cacophony of people yelling Surprise! rang out.
At the center of attention was Eren Yeager, who...did not look surprised at all. His eyes were not even adjusting to the light the way yours was. A tall redhead accompanied him, someone who you vaguely recognize as Floch.
The birthday boy was clad in a white button-up, sleeves rolled to his elbows and the top button was unfastened. His dress pants were slim-fitting and black.
The green-eyed boy’s face was devoid of expression. In comparison to his stoic nature, you thought your heart was going to explode.
Wryly Armin says, “Oh look, your boyfriend has arrived.” As if on cue, Eren’s eyes locked with yours.
At that moment, there were too many things to process.
Luckily, Eren was surrounded by a small crowd of his closest friends. You could hear Jean cackle, “Come on! You’re not even surprised.”
You turned your head to face the boy who took advantage of the darkness, a scarlet blush staining your face, “Why did you-?!”
He gazed at you with shining eyes like he had found clarity, not even bothering to feign guilt. With agility only he had, he took your palm in his, “I know you used to like me.”
Blood rushing in your ears, you tear your hands “What are you doing? Eren’s right there. Don’t touch me.” You hissed, scooting away for good measure.
“You didn’t deny what I said.” The blond pointed out calmly, “Yeager is no good for you. He keeps you in the dark about his life and he’s certainly not loyal..”
“I-I can’t deal with this. I never expected this from you Armin.” You shot up from the couch, trepidation filling your nerves, “Now if you excuse me, I’m going to greet my boyfriend.” You uttered the last word with as much hostility you could muster.
Mikasa had her arms wrapped around Eren. Which was fine. They’re best friends. They’ve known each other far longer than you knew him. He thinks of her as a sister.
He thinks of her as a sister.
You walked over, looming behind them. Most of the crowd had dispersed, with only Eren and the Ackerman girl lost in their own world.
What is wrong with you? You scold yourself. You didn’t usually think like this.
“[Y/N]”
Eren noticed you right away, and Mikasa turned around to face you.
“Sorry [y/n], didn’t mean to take so much of his time from you.” The dark-haired girl smiled apologetically.
You could feel guilt gnaw at you, how could you ever suspect her? She waved to Eren, and warmly thanked you, “You did so much of the planning. Thank you.” And before you could reply, she left.
That left you alone with the man himself. “Hi.” You said shyly. He smirked, “Hi babe. Long time no see huh.”
His viridian eyes slowly roamed your appearance, head to toe. You blushed under his stare as they paused longer than necessary on the dip of your neckline, and the expanse of legs not covered by the silk dress.
“So you did all this?” He teased, vaguely gesturing to the string lights, and hanging paper flowers.
He steps closer to you until he’s just a breath away. “Hardly. Just helped out wherever I could.” You whisper.
He hugs you, his tall frame enveloping yours. You feel so safe, pressed against his chest, as his arms compass the slight of your back.
His cologne is your favorite. Subtle, and intoxicating with thick notes of spice. You sniff something else, something overpoweringly distinct.
Still enclosed in his arms, you look up to him, “Did you drink?”
He takes a step back, still wrapping an arm to your waist, “I met up with Zeke. He offered me a drink.”
“Zeke?” You questioned, “You visited your brother?”
Eren was privy to sharing details about his life and you knew virtually next to nothing about Zeke, his half-brother he came recently in contact with.
He kisses the top of your head, and you can feel the loose strands that escaped his bun tickle your face, “It’s nothing to worry your pretty little head about.”
He keeps you in the dark about his life.
“You were cozying up with Armin on that couch, weren’t you?” His tone is light, containing a thinly veiled accusation.
You laugh it off, hoping he wouldn’t notice how tense you suddenly got, “No, no. We were just talking. I was sure I was going to kill myself out of boredom just waiting for you.”
Snuggling closer to him, you stand on your tippy-toes to kiss his jawline, trying to distract him from wavering thoughts.
“Oh?” He asked, “Armin wasn’t entertaining you well enough? Well, he does have a tendency to babble about nothing.”
As he talked, you had a feeling he wasn’t really looking at you, but rather peering straight behind you.
An uneasy feeling fills your lungs, “Um Eren, let’s head to the kitchen. I can fix you a plate. Niccolo did the catering so you know it’ll be really good-”
The tall boy waved your suggestion away, “Not hungry. In fact, why don’t we head over to my best friend? I haven’t talked to him in a while.” You didn't appreciate the mocking lilt in his tone.
Before you could dissuade him, he was already pulling your wrist so you could turn, hand placed on the small of your back, leading you somewhere you definitely did not want to go.
The charming blond was still situated on the couch but this time joined by a woman who was talking rather animatedly. You vaguely recognized her by her chin-length wavy ash-colored locks. Hitch.
“-Annie is so lucky! Jesus, I can’t believe you guys are engaged! And Marlowe still hasn’t worked up the nerve to-”
Eren coughed, asserting his presence. Two pairs of eyes flitted upwards. Hitch sighed dramatically, “Well if it isn’t the birthday boy. The big 2-0. You’re not a teen anymore Yeager. Think you’re ready for the adult world?”
Your boyfriend, who was never one for false pretenses and small talk, ignored her question entirely, “Hello Hitch. If you don’t mind, I would like to catch up with Armin here.”
The woman rolled her eyes, “Guess that’s my cue to leave.” As she stood up, she looked back and forth between the boys, noting the animosity that seemed to permeate the air as they burned holes into each other.
“Why are the vibes so tense? The energies you two are radiating...is reminiscent of a pissing contest”
Without really intending to, you let out a chuckle, attracting the attention of the three people around you.
Hitch’s eyes softened, “[Y/n], I haven’t seen you in a minute. Let’s go do shots with Mina and Hanna.”
Eren’s grip on you tightened, “She’s staying right here Hitch. Enjoy yourself though”
“Funny, I don’t recall asking you. Your girlfriend can’t speak for herself?”
“Uhm, thanks for the offer Hitch but no thank you, I’m not really in the mood to drink right now.” You chuckle nervously, flashing a big enough smile that will ascertain that everything is okay.
Hitch shrugs, “Suit yourself”, and proceeds to walk away.
“Well, I suppose I have to thank you for driving her away. She’s quite...talkative.” Armin breaks the silence. He addresses you both but his eyes are trained on you, “Back already [y/n]?” An easy smile spreads across his face.
You don't look at Eren’s face to gauge his reaction, but you notice how the hand around your waist squeezes almost painfully. The boys stand up to shake hands. Armin gestures for the two of you to sit but the dark-haired boy waves it away, “We prefer to stand.”
The blond gazes between the two of you questioningly but seemingly accept Eren’s response, “Okay then. Guess I’ll stand too.”
“Where’s Annie? Trouble brewing in paradise?”
Armin’s smile hardens, “Don’t know how you’d assume that. She’s just not here.”
Unease pinpricks at you. You could feel trepidation in the air.
“What a shame. Doesn’t Annie like me?” Eren taunts before delivering a line you didn’t expect, “I recall a time where she liked me much more than you actually.”
Surprise is an understatement for how you feel. You didn’t even want to register the implication of his statement. Did Eren and Annie have a past? You lightly touch Eren’s arm in a hint of a warning, “Eren-”
The blond shakes his head, “You’re really something else, you know? Talking about another woman so brazenly in front of your girlfriend? Are you projecting your insecurity onto me since you know” he tilts his head in your direction, “[y/n] liked me first?”
You fluster immediately, jaw-dropping slightly. It was true. You did have a rather big crush on the intelligent blond boy who sat next to you in a class that bored you to sleep. But there was nothing between you two beyond a handful of platonic study dates from when you were freshmen!
Too many moving variables. He was dating Annie and not being the homewrecker type, tried to squash the interest you had. Besides, you were planning to drop that class anyways, and in a twist of fate, it was Armin who had inadvertently introduced you to Eren.
Also, how did that damn Arlert know and why was he bringing it up today of all days?!
Your boyfriend sneers, “Does that really matter when she’s with me? When she’s dating me. And. Not. You.” He punctures the last words out.
“Uhm, I’m right here-” You finally find your voice, “And I’m not really comfortable with being discussed like this.”
Armin’s eyes find yours, “Of course. Sorry [Y/n]. It’s super disrespectful of me-”
Eren cuts in with words heavier than bullets, “Shut the fuck up. Always desperate to play the white knight in shining armor aren’t you? Your duplicity makes me sick.”
As if sensing an oncoming attack, Eren pivots away from you, creating some distance.
Armin closes the gap between himself and the dark-haired boy and bunches Eren’s collar in his fist, “You don’t know how to treat people, you know that? So full of yourself that you think basic decency has an ulterior motive.”
Eren’s eyes dance with mirth, “There’s always an ulterior motive with you, isn’t there though?”. He forcefully shoves his friend, sending Armin stumbling a few steps backward, “You really like pretending you’re one of the good guys when your hands are blood-stained like the rest of us.
You can hear the blood rushing in your ear and you attempt to get in the middle of the impending conflict but Eren grabs your arm with a painful force. He growls,“Step back”. You obey.
“Don’t touch her touch like that.” Armin snarls.
“She’s my fucking girlfriend. I’ll touch her however I want. By the way, just because your little fiance is giving you a hard time doesn’t give you the right to leer at what’s mine.”
At this point you realize you come to your senses, and you leave the area quickly to get help. You scan the area around looking for Mikasa. She’s reliable and always knows what to do. You try to calm your panicked heart.
Gaining speed, you nearly fall by running into someone in the long hallway. Thankfully, the good samaritan is able to catch you in time, holding your shoulders in a firm but comforting grip.
You look up, eager to thank the man who caught you. Mullet. Tall. Slight scruff at the chin. You recognize him right away.
“Woah y/n, what are you running for?” He asks in amusement but one look at your teary eyes has him instantly concerned, “Hey, hey. Are you okay?”
“I-uh,” You’re blubbering, “Armin and Eren are acting kinda strange--I think Mikasa should calm them down.”
Jean’s eyebrows are furrowed, “Strange how? She stepped out so she’s not here right now.” You bite your lips, wondering how you were going to explain the situation.
Jean grabs your shoulder, “Hey, don’t worry. I’ll settle this. Can you take me to them?”
You nod, supremely grateful to have Jean in your corner. As you guys take a turn to the living room, you hear the excruciating sound of glass breaking. “Shit!” Jean curses.
In the middle of the living room stood Eren and Armin like centerpieces, beating the ever-living shit out of each other. You couldn’t see much beyond the fact Armin was throwing punches left and right, landing some but Eren was able to dodge most.
As you move to run forward, Jean grabs you, “No. Stop. There’s glass everywhere. You’re going to get hurt.”
You’re incredulous, “I can’t just let them hurt each other!”
Jean merely looks at you with a look of pity,
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Text
not okay, m | jjk, myg
full title: I'm Not Okay (I Promise)
pairing(s): yoongi x reader, ft. jungkook
summary: Jeon Jungkook fucked up. He talked shit about emo girls. Min Yoongi decides he's going to make him take back what he said, make him beg and plead and cry to be touched by the sexiest woman he knows. Never mind that you were a goth in high school and not an emo.
warnings: rated M (18+) for language; established relationship (Yoongi/you); definitely a scheme to seduce a clueless JK; threesome smut (fem reader, D/s dynamics, m-masturbation + daydreaming, edging / orgasm denial, inappropriate (but wanted) touching in public, a lot of begging, hair-pulling, scratching / marking, thigh-riding, handjob, choking, ball squeezing, restraints, cowgirl, nipple play, handcuff and anal vibrator usage, doggy, little bit of m-receiving oral, finger sucking); tbh Jungkook is a mess, is forced to make messes, and likes it; fluff; shifts from all three POVs; black-haired, sub!JK x noona, dom!reader x blue-haired, dom!Yoongi
yes, there are My Chemical Romance references, I'm aware MCR don't like being considered emo, we know labels =/= how someone truly is; yes, it's PTD (emo for a hot second) JK and Yoongi
--
"Is that what you think?"
Jeon Jungkook flicked the long black bangs over his left eye, laughing. "Yeah, these are just extensions. I thought it would be funny. I don't actually think this kind of style looks good on me."
A sharp click of the tongue. "No, the other part. About women."
Jungkook blinked, bewildered. Then he slowly remembered, recalling his words. "Oh... I just meant I wouldn't be attracted to a girl with a more emo, edgy style."
The deep voice was sharp and accusatory. "You said it was cringey."
"Ah... well... a little?"
Those pointed, cat-like eyes narrowed dangerously.
"Uh... hyung?"
Min Yoongi frowned and stood up.
"We will see about that, Jungkook."
Jungkook watched him go, even more confused than before.
"Why did that sound like a threat...?"
-
Because it was.
The next time they went out to eat together, Min Yoongi brought his girlfriend with him. She didn't often tag along. When his friends asked Yoongi about it, he just laughed.
"It's because you guys are too fucking loud."
The few times she did come with him, she was relatively quiet. She had an unapproachable air about her, intimidating in the way that a single eye shift and locked-on attention could cause heart palpitations. Everything about her image seemed far too sleek and refined for everyday life. Her gestures, her walk, her style. Minimalist outfits, mostly white and black. It was obvious that she had a nice body, but none of her clothes implied that she was advertising it, at least when she was hanging out with her boyfriend's friends.
There was one exception.
She always smelled delicious.
Noticeable, addictive, gourmand, always making you turn your head just to smell it again. A hint of ginger to startle, followed by the warmth of marshmallow and the earthly scent of green tea. It blended with her skin, turning warmer and muskier as the evening went on, making you wish that you could smell the bedsheets that laid against that sweet-smelling body later that night.
Very troubling for Yoongi's friends for his girlfriend to smell like pure sex and then gaze at them with such intensity when spoken to, startlingly similar to Yoongi himself.
"Hello, Jungkook. Surprising that you're the only one here."
Jeon Jungkook was so stunned that his brain seemed to cease all functions. He was completely frozen, eyes and mouth wide open, not believing the sight in front of him.
Yoongi?
His hyung was dressed normally. Black cardigan, white shirt, black jeans. His hair was light blue now, a cool-toned, steel azure. The color made his fair skin glow and his dark brown eyes stand out.
His girlfriend?
Her hair was loose and wild, partially covering the left side of her face. Dark eye makeup and dark crimson lips. Large, loose black shirt hanging off one shoulder, with a black leather choker and silver chain that clipped to the button placket of her shirt with a clasp. Her bra strap was obvious, meant to be seen, the delicate lace pattern molding around the top of the cup that was barely visible. The shirt was long enough to cover her ass, belted at the waist with a black leather belt adorned by a silver moon-shaped buckle. Sheer black stockings with seemingly intentional rips and sleek black velvet heels.
"Yoongi said you think emo girls are cringey," she chuckled, looking down at him, smirk on her plump, defined lips.
Jungkook sputtered, feeling his face burn. "N-No, noona, that's not what I meant, I–" He was attempting to restore brain function, but he was rapidly losing blood up top and it was gushing down below.
This had to be the hardest part of living.
"I had to remind him that I was a goth in high school, not an emo. They're slightly different."
She bent at the waist and adjusted the chair before sitting down next to him, giving Jungkook half a second to view her perky tits encased in black lace, her chest smelling so fucking good that he nearly passed out. He jerked his head away, glancing at Yoongi in sheer panic.
The older man gave him a completely blank expression.
Their previous conversation echoed in Jungkook’s head. We will see about that.
"The rest of them aren't coming today. I'm treating Jungkook," Yoongi was explaining.
His girlfriend tilted her head. "I thought you said Hoseok was coming."
"He was, but then something came up."
"Hmm..." She raised an eyebrow at Yoongi. He straightened his cardigan, noticing her discerning gaze, and raised one back.
It was only then that Jungkook realized they weren't sitting next to each other, but on either side of him, boxing him against the wall. Now Jungkook could smell Yoongi too, wearing a spicy, woodsy cologne that mixed with his skin to become warmer and more comforting, except right now it was scaring the shit out of him because he didn't understand why they weren't sitting next to each other.
"Ah..."
He simply pointed to the empty chair in front of him, unable to finish his sentence.
Yoongi looked over to see what he was pointing at. "Hm?"
"You're right, I should move it so the server has easier access to our table."
And she dragged the chair to the side.
"Very considerate of you, Jungkook."
She smiled at him and he swore the proximity was causing his sanity to crumble to dust. He saw her tuck her black purse behind her perky, round ass. It had a small pin on it of a devil reading a book titled, Guide to Eternal Torture.
A cutesy yet ominous image.
At this point, Jungkook realized he was staring at her ass and the raised hem of the shirtdress, revealing the fact that the stockings were thigh-highs. The black garter straps were straining against her juicy thighs as she adjusted her long legs under the table.
Fuck.
He bolted out of his seat, mumbling and stumbling past her, the alluring scent of her perfume enticing him as he squeezed past.
"B-Bathroom, be right back!"
-
You watched Jungkook run off, clamping his hands below his stomach, raising your eyebrows as he and his tight black jeans sprinted to the bathroom.
"Hm."
You turned back to your boyfriend who was looking at the menu like it was the most intriguing piece of art he had ever laid his eyes on. You stuck your tongue in your cheek and breathed out, waiting for him to continue. Yoongi didn't look up. You didn’t really expect him to. You waited out of politeness.
"How long am I torturing him for?" you finally asked.
"Until he takes back what he said about you," your boyfriend responded dryly.
You laughed, shaking your head. "I don't think it was directed at me specifically. Does he even know that this is what I usually dress like? Or why you always tell me to dress simpler when I come with you to eat with all of them?"
Those dark brown eyes flickered up.
Yoongi's perfect lips curved into a small smirk.
You rolled your eyes. "Of course, he doesn't."
He lowered the menu, raising his chin defiantly as he spoke. "My reason is still valid. You saw how Jungkook acted. He a mess around you."
"I don't ooze sex, Yoongi. You're exaggerating."
He cocked a brow. "I beg to differ. I would wager he's jacking off in the bathroom right now."
He drummed the table with his fingertips, challenging you to bet on it. You waved a hand, dismissing the challenge. Wasn't like you could miss that tent. You circumvented back to the matter at hand.
"Did Jungkook actually say that? About emo girls being cringey?"
Yoongi shrugged. "Something like that."
You frowned. "Really? With his eyebrow piercing and tattoos? And his black hoodie and jeans?"
Your boyfriend went back to the menu. "Projecting, I think you called it?"
-
Yes, Jungkook washed his hands before throwing himself into a stall and touching his dick.
He wasn't gross.
Would be really great if his dick had calmed down on his own, but her perfume lingered on Jungkook's hoodie sleeve, just the faintest trace on his left arm, and he pressed it against his nose, inhaling.
Fuck, why does she smell so good?
His right hand was undoing his pants, his eyes and fingers closing in, focusing on his throbbing erection fighting his underwear. Maybe if he just touched it on the outside, it would be fine...
Her face popped into his head, complete with the little quirk of her eyebrow.
Nope.
Jungkook shoved his hand into his boxer briefs and pushed them down, teeth biting his hoodie sleeve so he could smell her perfume as he stroked his cock, feeling somewhat dirty about it, but mostly violently horny. It wasn't like he could stop his brain. He couldn't go out there with a massive boner either, so he had to do what he had to do. It was only a few thoughts anyway, thinking about her thighs under the table and wondering how they would feel wrapped around him, wondering if she would let him rip those stockings off and bite those delicious legs, wondering if he could undo that belt and unwrap that body and press his nose against that sweet-smelling skin and taste it with his tongue, planting kisses over those beautiful breasts with her hand around his cock instead of his own, pumping him to her unforgiving pace, forcing him to moan into her skin, abusing his stiff length with her tight grip and expansive strokes, his hands gripping her soft thighs and his whines saturating the air, pleading, begging her to let him cum.
Would she edge me?
His hand abruptly stopped.
Jungkook used every ounce of willpower to avoid whimpering into his own sleeve.
His whole body was achingly tense, screaming at him to finish, but he refused, shoving his whole face into the thick fabric and breathing hard, clenching his jaw and his twitching cock, imagining her pretty face with a smug, sadistic smirk, those dark lips teasingly telling him he could finish inside her.
-
"What are you doing?"
The pale hand dance in the air, beckoning the waitress over.
"Ordering."
You tilted your head. "Jungkook isn't back yet. You should wait for him."
Yoongi shrugged. "I know what he likes." His gaze flickered to you. "Meat."
You narrowed your eyes. Yoongi gazed back, unfazed. You knew that look. You knew how to read between the lines. To everyone else, Yoongi was a 3D puzzle with a million pieces, but to you, he might as well have been a children's picture book.
The side of his lips quirked upward, so faint you would have missed it if you weren’t looking for it.
He did have very nice pictures in his book. You'll give him that.
You ticked your right eyebrow so subtly that no one caught it but him. He, too, knew that to look for. His smirk grew, pleased at your wordless communication.
You were dating a real troublemaker.
You smirked back as the waitress arrived at your table, apologizing for keeping you waiting. One look from both Yoongi and you, and she nearly dropped her notepad, fumbling with the pen, cheeks flushing pink.
Trouble did tend to find trouble.
-
Jungkook had determined he hadn't done anything wrong. He didn't actually orgasm in the bathroom stall thinking about Yoongi's girlfriend while smelling her remaining perfume on his clothes as the said couple sat in the restaurant, awaiting his return.
Well.
Now that he mentally described it like that, it did sound kind of fucked.
Crap.
He saw a blob of black in his peripheral vision and looked up to see Yoongi's girlfriend stride past him, fragrant-smelling hair drifting behind her, his head turning automatically to follow the sight, entranced by the movement of her hips and hair, only to find her glancing back at him, foxy smile dancing on those dark lips.
He swore she mouthed his name.
Maybe even said it?
Jungkook blinked and she was no longer looking in his direction, heading to the women’s bathroom and rolling up her sleeves, clearly going to wash her hands.
He was seeing things.
Yes.
Just horny and delusional.
"I ordered the beef plate for you. If you don't like it, we can order something else."
Jungkook looked down at the streaming, sizzling platter of seared beef and vegetables, feeling his stomach growl as he sat down.
"No, hyung, this is great. Thank you."
"Hm, that's good. You can start eating, I'm going to wash my hands."
Yoongi began to stand up, brushing off his pants. Jungkook jerked his head up, seeing the older male push his chair back, light blue hair falling over his forehead.
"Um, h-hyung?"
"Mmm?"
Those dark brown orbs flickered to him.
"Er..."
Yoongi tilted his head.
"Erm... why is noona here? I thought you said… you were just treating me to a meal...?"
Yoongi tilted his head the other way, slowly, unreadable expression in those cat-like eyes.
"I am. I'm paying today."
He raised his head and smiled. Jungkook tore his eyes away from Yoongi to see her weaving through the crowd to make her way back to the table, silver chain hanging from her black choker glittering in the overhead restaurant lights, exposed shoulder and collarbone a stark contrast to her all-black outfit, body shape so exquisite that it wasn't only Yoongi and Jungkook watching her walk. Many pairs of eyes followed her wake, some shy, some unabashed and brazen.
"Besides, she is a treat, isn't she?" Yoongi purred.
She had made eye contact with Jungkook and her lips curved into a small, amused smile.
Any response he had to Yoongi’s words died in his throat.
"Too bad you think that style is cringey, otherwise you might have had a shot, Jungkook."
-
You sat back down as Yoongi waltzed off, gesturing to his hands, leaving you with the Korean equivalent of Steve Rogers from 1943 to 2011, complete with what you presumed to be a very nice ass if the rest of Jeon Jungkook was anything to go by. Ah, well, you trusted genetics. Surely nature would have blessed Jungkook with a good booty. You looked over to him. He wasn’t moving.
Wasn’t even blinking.
You snapped your fingers in front of his face and Jungkook started, jumping in his seat, his wide brown orbs shakily shifting to you. You made eye contact and he quickly looked away, swallowing hard.
Come on, surely, it's not that serious.
Jungkook ran a hand through his short black hair and snuck a glance at you. Or, more specifically, your chest. Ah. Was that it?
"Something wrong?" you asked, picking up your chopsticks.
"N... No...?"
You had to smile. Jungkook didn't even sound like he believed himself. You pointed to your collarbone.
"Too much?"
His brown orbs shot up. Silence. You locked eyes with him, keeping him in place. You witnessed his inner struggle now, trying to decide between what he thought was the right answer and what his instincts were telling him.
"Aren't you... uncomfortable, noona?"
You chuckled, picking up a piece from your pork belly dish and blowing off the steam. "Me? Of course not. People stare at me all the time. Might as well dress how I want." You dabbed the extra oil off on the side of the plate and brought it to your lips. Your eyes flickered to the younger man. He was still watching you, his own lips parted, wispy black strands over his forehead, accenting his dark brows and the silver bar piercing on the right side. Poor guy. Jungkook really picked the wrong man to project to, the one whose girlfriend never grew out of her goth phase.
You brought the meat close to your mouth.
Let your tongue snake out for a millisecond between your open lips.
His eyeballs nearly fell out of his head.
This is too easy.
You placed the hot meat into your tongue and closed your lips around it, chewing slowly, maintaining eye contact.
Not speaking.
Yoongi was surely overreacting to something Jungkook probably didn't think too much about before saying it, but that was fine with you because Yoongi told you to cause some trouble. You liked causing trouble. That's how you got Yoongi. Trouble attracted trouble. Still, he had something planned. You could tell. Maybe even guess.
You smiled at Jungkook and he gulped so loudly you could hear it over the sizzling meat.
-
Otherwise you might have had a shot, Jungkook.
What did that mean?
Jungkook was having a mild panic attack throughout the entire meal, even when Yoongi suggested they get beers. His girlfriend was driving, so only he and his hyung drank as they ate. They barely talked. Jungkook’s brain was too busy trying to break down the meaning of the mysterious phrase, replaying Yoongi’s words over and over.
You might have had a shot.
A shot at what?
What, exactly?!
Jungkook snuck a glance at Yoongi’s girlfriend and she was looking back, cocking an eyebrow when they made eye contact. He flinched and peeked at Yoongi's expression. His hyung was chewing his beef slowly, staring into space.
Have had a shot.
Maybe Jungkook needed to do shots to be a normal human being at this point.
"You're pretty quiet today, Jungkook."
His dick twitched in his pants.
Jungkook threw one thigh over the other and mashed his dick between them.
"Ah... sorry..." he mumbled, fixated on his beer glass.
Yoongi rapped his forearm with the end of his chopsticks. "Look at people when you talk to them."
Jungkook swallowed and looked up at her. "S-Sorry, noona."
She tipped her head and frowned slightly. "Is there something wrong? Did I say something to make you upset?" She looked apologetic. "I'm sorry if my presence is ruining your time with your hyung."
He jerked his head to said hyung. Yoongi prodded at something in between his teeth with the end of his chopstick and gave Jungkook a confused look, as if to say, what are you looking at me for?
"Um... no," Jungkook finally said, shaking his head and turning back to her. "No, noona. I'm glad you're here. It's really nice to see you."
"You're barely looking at her."
His ears burned at Yoongi's dry remark.
She perked up, pointing to her collarbones. "Is this bothering you? It's too much, isn't it?" she chuckled, jingling the chain on the choker and making his dick jolt between his clasped, jean-covered thighs. "You really don't like this style, huh?"
Jungkook darted his eyes to Yoongi, who pointedly stared back, giving him zero context clues except for reminding him of what he said before the meal.
A shot.
“Uh, that isn’t it, noona. Ah, actually…”
Jungkook chewed on his lip nervously, focusing on her instead of Yoongi. She turned her body, giving her full attention to him. He couldn’t tell if that was better or worse. The guilt ate away at him. Minutes passed by. So many, in fact, that it was getting awkward. His neck was on fire, his ears were red-hot, he was pretty sure his cheeks were flushed, and not from alcohol, yet he still he couldn’t say shit to those dark eyes and crimson lips, trapped by the gaze of the woman in black, feeling like he just booked himself a room in the Hotel Bella Muerte.
“Are you okay, Jungkook?” she asked, shadows of an amused open-mouthed smirk on those lips.
Was he?
“Er, yeah… I’m okay,” he croaked, coughing to clear his throat.
Yoongi snorted.
Jungkook shook his head quickly, letting out a small growl of frustration. “Actually, no, noona, I’m not okay.” He rubbed his forehead and exhaled hard, biting his lip as he faced her questioning expression. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said the style you’re wearing is cringey, because it’s not. It’s really not. You look amazing. You always have, but you look extra cool and sexy today and I feel really bad saying something like that because I should have thought about how other people could look and pull off that style, but I didn’t, I was only thinking about how stupid I looked when I was fifteen and I assumed–”
Her hand shot out and she pressed two fingers to his lips, silencing him.
“Shh,” she hummed, fully smirking now. “You assumed and thus you got yourself in trouble, didn’t you?”
She’s touching me!
Jungkook jerked his eyes to Yoongi, who was nibbling on his last piece of steak and ignoring Jungkook’s panic. He added a bit of the sauce and popped the meat in his mouth, chewing slowly. It was like she and Jungkook weren’t talking at all or, rather, Yoongi wasn’t concerning himself with it.
Her fingers slid down, pressing into Jungkook’s lower lip.
He very nearly made a noise, quickly darting his gaze back to Yoongi’s girlfriend.
“Hey, Jungkook.”
Why was she saying his name like that? Like… like she was sexing it with her tongue or something? Oh, shit, he was going crazy. He had to be. It was all in his head. She must be saying his name normally. Had to be. Yoongi’s girlfriend? Flirting with him? No, no, absolutely not. And certainly not in front of Yoongi. Even if his hyung was pretending to be deaf, he was definitely not deaf. Yoongi was the kind of guy who would smack a stranger looking at his woman funny.
This?
It was all in his head.
Her fingertips slid to the side of his lips, tracing the shape.
R… Right?
“You think I look extra cool and sexy today?” she mused, licking her lips.
Jungkook could smell her perfume off her wrist. Sweet, musky, seductive. His thighs were so tightly clasped together that Jungkook was pretty sure his dick was pointing straight down with how erect it was at the moment.
“Ah… w-well… a b-bit…?”
Clink!
Jungkook yelped as cold water flew into his lap, immediately spreading his legs as the glass tumbled onto the tabletop. Yoongi swiftly stopped it, sighing exaggeratedly.
“Ah, my bad, that was quite clumsy of me…”
“Shit, Jungkook, are you okay?”
Her fingertips left his lip and he could finally breathe, only to squeak sharply as hands planted firmly onto his thighs and crotch, bunched-up napkins dabbing the excess water away, quickly soaking it up with the paper.
“You should be more careful Yoongi, sheesh…”
“Sorry, Jungkook, here, take these.”
Jungkook vaguely registered Yoongi saying her name apologetically as well, but at the moment he was not okay, very not okay, he promised this was the most not okay he had ever been in his entire life as Yoongi’s girlfriend mopped up water from his inner thighs and crotch, molding her hands around his dick, yes, his actual straining hard-on was being touched by her hands and it was getting harder by the fucking second, her hurriedly wiping the water off, acting like this was completely normal and not like his cock was trying to rip out of his pants.
“Ack, noona, w-wait…!”
He tried to sit up and Yoongi’s hand came down on his shoulder, holding him in place.
“Good idea, get under his ass just in case.”
Jungkook nearly blacked out as her napkin-covered hands slid under him and cupped the inside of his legs and bottom half of his ass, patting around. Her palms cupped his balls for a hot second.
He was fucked.
Utterly fucked.
Jungkook whimpered in his throat.
Her hands immediately stopped.
She looked up at him, very serious. “Am I making you uncomfortable?”
Jungkook shook his head from side to side so quickly that his vision blurred. “Yes.”
She shared a glance with Yoongi. The older man sighed and stood up, squeezing his shoulder as he leaned down to Jungkook’s ear.
“You want her to keep touching you or not?”
Jungkook’s eyes widened, jerking his head to Yoongi. Those dark brown orbs looked back at him, demanding the truth.
“I didn’t spill that water for nothing.”
It was only then that it dawned onto Jungkook.
This was a set up. He was being set up. His hyung had set him up.
This whole fucking thing was a set up.
We will see about that, Jungkook.
She was cleaning his seat off and gently tapped his thigh. “It’s dry now. I think you’re okay.”
Jungkook decided that he really did not care about being set up. He did not give a single shit that he fell for it wholly and completely like a gullible idiot. He whipped his head back to Yoongi’s girlfriend, who was sighing ruefully, giving Yoongi the side-eye, muttering under her breath so only they could hear.
“What do you think he’s gonna do, Yoongi, ask to fuck me?” she hissed, placing the wad of wet napkins onto the table.
Too bad you think that style is cringey, otherwise you might have had a shot.
Jungkook’s hand shot out and squeezed her thigh.
“Can I fuck you, noona?” he breathed, chest tight.
He dug his nails into the sheer stocking, ripping new holes.
“If hyung lets me?”
-
"Yoongi, what are you thinking?"
Your boyfriend smiled. Very nonchalant. Nearly innocent. You knew better. This was Min Yoongi after all. His cardigan was off now. His broad shoulders in the white t-shirt were very distracting. Actually, so were his arms, now toned and more defined. Yoongi had recently taken an interest in working out.
His smile turned into a smirk. "What?"
You narrowed your eyes at him suspiciously. You noticed movement under you and smacked Jeon Jungkook's hand down so he was no longer picking at the peach fuzz in his face. He gasped in surprise, but you ignored him, completely focused on your rather troublesome boyfriend.
"You can't be serious."
You felt fingers brushing against the hem of your shirtdress, playing with the edge of the fabric. Yoongi was kneeling behind Jungkook, who was sitting on your bed, and the younger man was now messing with your outfit as you and Yoongi continued your conversation about him.
Your boyfriend leaned down and placed his hands on Jungkook's jaw, laying down his deft fingers one by one, lifting that chiseled chin up, those wide brown eyes now looking at your face, paired with the amused, cat-like ones.
"I am serious," Yoongi murmured. "You should teach him a lesson."
You pursed your lips. "He already apologized. That's enough."
Yoongi tilted his head, clicking his tongue.
"No, it's not."
Your eyes flickered down and you raised an eyebrow at Jungkook's interruption. "What was that?"
He gulped under your stern gaze. "Um..."
Yoongi smiled pleasantly, removing his hands from Jungkook's face. "See? He wants it."
"He's your friend, Yoongi. We're going to have to see him in person later. You want him to be horny every second he's around me?"
Yoongi placed his palm on the crown of Jungkook's head, drumming his fingers slowly. Light blue strands curled around his dark brows and eyes, playful smirk on his shapely pink lips. His deep voice was a low, alluring drawl.
"He already is."
Jungkook nodded very fast to agree. He was trying to hide the keen excitement in his eyes by not speaking, but his eager expression was giving him away as Yoongi slowly chipped away at common sense. You grabbed Jungkook's chin and squeezed, holding him in place. His breathing hitched in your hand, small whimper of your name leaving his lips.
"Don't look at me like that," you scolded.
"Like what?" Jungkook asked with shaking eyes and a small pout.
You kept switching from Jungkook's to Yoongi's eyes because if you looked too long into those pleading brown orbs, you might actually crack. You spoke slowly, emphasizing each word.
"Like you're desperate for it."
A low, dangerous chuckle.
Your gaze fixated on Yoongi. He was about to do something.
His long fingers worked into that short black hair and yanked back, making Jungkook gasp and shiver as he was pulled from your hand, your name falling from his lips in a breathy moan as his eyes continued to watch you, waiting, needing, begging.
"P... Please, noona..."
Yoongi's grip tightened in those black locks, Jungkook whimpering at the roughness, his own hands clutching your shirtdress, tugging at it.
"I'm telling you to do it," Yoongi purred, smokey and dark, staring into your eyes.
Jungkook was pulling your shirt now, pulling you to him, getting you to straddle his lap, you glaring at Yoongi's smirking face the entire time, annoyed that he put you in this position, and yet you knew something of this nature was coming the second he pulled you aside earlier today and asked you to dress the way you normally did because he was going to take you out to eat with Jungkook and Hoseok. Jung Hoseok already knew about your eccentric fashion sense and, while it did spook him a little the first time, he often sent you links of clothes that reminded him of you. You didn't think much of Jungkook being there. He was the youngest and Yoongi often treated him to a nice meal, although usually without you.
"Unbutton the top more."
Yoongi had adjusted the exposed shoulder himself and handed you the leather choker.
"Wear this one."
You had given him a skeptical look. "You suiting me up for some kind of mission?"
Yoongi had smiled mysteriously.
"We're going to make Jungkookie's life a living hell and he's going to like it."
Apparently, Yoongi's mission was to tempt and torture Jungkook until he was mildly insane and then subsequently draw out the younger man’s ravenous desperation so that Jungkook was now clawing at your thighs and whimpering under you, trying to get you to fuck him, shuddering every time he attempted to raise his hands and Yoongi punished him by yanking at his hair in warning.
"She hasn't said yes yet. No higher until she says yes," Yoongi snapped, not taking his eyes off you and your body.
"B-But..."
You slapped a hand down on Jungkook's mouth and squeezed harshly, digging your nails into his cheekbones.
"Shh. I'm thinking."
You closed your eyes.
Breathed out.
-
"You know the only hope for me is you, right?"
"That's a little dramatic, Yoongi."
Those dark brown, cat-like eyes glittered, full of mischief.
"You always play along with my ideas."
"They're all very good. You are a genius."
You loved the way Yoongi smiled at you, endearing and sweet with a hint of cunning cleverness. He liked to invent new ways to keep your life interesting. Being with Min Yoongi was never boring.
"I doubt you'll be able to shock me though. I've seen it all." You, too, enjoyed challenging him and being challenged. That was part of the fun.
That's why you carried on with his black parade.
Yoongi chuckled. "Mmm, famous last words."
-
“Don’t let him move.”
His veins were on fire, chest shuddering as his head was pulled back, back, his spine arching to an almost uncomfortable position, but he didn’t care, only feeling pleasure as she leaned down, hovering over his body, her hand on his mouth, gasps trapped on his tongue while her own extended from those dark lips, down, down, her other hand grabbing a fistful of his hoodie and yanking down the neckline.
The tip of her tongue touched the space right between his collarbones.
She removed her hand.
Jeon Jungkook moaned, hot and wanton, sinfully right in front of Min Yoongi’s face as Yoongi’s girlfriend licked up his throat, tracing his Adam’s apple and scraping her teeth against it, before sliding up to his chin, stopping right before his lips.
Exactly where the mole under his lower lip was, tip of the wet muscle unmoving.
Those sharp eyes shrouded in black eyeshadow and dark eyeliner looked down on him.
“Please, n-noona…”
He didn’t care if he was being pathetic, tearing at her stockings with his fingernails, unashamedly imploring for more.
She didn’t speak. Yoongi spoke for her.
“Please what?” his hyung murmured, massaging his scalp slowly.
His cock was so hard that it physically hurt being trapped in his jeans like this. Any sanity he had left was being obliterated into pure, unadulterated lust. Jungkook didn’t care anymore about right or wrong. Whatever they let him have, he would take. He would beg and plead and cry if he had to. Whatever it took.
He whimpered, his thighs tensing with need.
“P-Please fuck me…”
I want it.
I need it.
I crave it.
She raised her tongue and flickered it over his lips. He moaned, shaking, his hands dropping from her thighs, reaching between his own legs and rubbing his painful erection through the zipper of his jeans, nearly sobbing as Yoongi’s fingers tightened, nails raking at his scalp.
“I can’t t-take it anymore… please… whatever you want to do, just do it, please, please touch me, I can’t s-stand it, I’m so h-hard…”
She pressed her knee down onto the back of his hands and Jungkook whimpered, so aroused that even that felt good, simply knowing she was applying the pressure, his balls suffocating a little against the center seam because of how thick and stiff he had become.
“Are you a little bit of a masochist, Jungkook?” she whispered, licking his lower lip gently.
Instead of answering right away, he pulled his hands out from under her knee and pressed it down onto his aching cock, his eyes rolling back and moaning deeply, forcefully raising his hips up, slightly pulling on his own hair in the process.
“Hyung, noona, please…”
The friction was almost painful, but the leaking pre-cum had soaked into his underwear, the slickness rubbing against the head, the added pressure of her knee slightly crushing his erection being his own self-inflicted pain that only added to the pleasure.
Jungkook gazed at her with half-lidded eyes, shuddering.
“Destroy me more.”
-
Min Yoongi liked to watch his woman work.
She was the best, she knew she was the best, and she only got better the longer she was with him. Of course, he loved her working him most. But Yoongi also enjoyed keeping things interesting. Being an assistant to the master was just as fun. And besides, they had a much more equal power dynamic and that’s what they liked.
But Jeon Jungkook.
He pulled Jungkook’s hoodie off, taking the shirt underneath with it, bare chest exposed to sharp black nails that immediately sent Jungkook into a spiraling mess of moans, falling back as those dark lips attacked the tanned skin, leaving marks all over that muscular body. Yoongi placed a hand under that sharp chin and pressed the younger male’s head to his chest.
He liked this too, this power.
Yoongi pressed his fingertips into Jungkook’s chin and raked his nails over that quivering throat.
He didn’t expect anyone to understand how or why he operated the way he did. He only needed one person to understand and she was currently yanking off Jungkook’s jeans and black boxer briefs with vicious vigor, throwing them aside before climbing off his lap.
Yoongi placed his hand over Jungkook’s eyes and wordlessly took his sight.
He liked the sounds Jungkook made. Needy, desperate, and strikingly beautiful. He had a wonderful quality to his voice, pouring all of his emotion into it. Nice cock too. Very hard, very red, a good length and girth. Yoongi chuckled, amused at the younger man’s eagerness. He lowered his head, whispering into that ear with three quivering silver hoops.
“So cringey, isn’t it?” he taunted.
Jungkook whined in his hands, trembling tone saturated with apology. “I’m sorry, hyung, I’m so sorry, I take it back, I didn’t mean it, p-please believe me...”
Out of the corner of his eyes he saw his woman remove her panties and step out of them. Stockings and garter belt stayed on though. She had style. He smirked, humming softly to mask her movement.
“You don’t have to say sorry to me.”
He removed his hand and she dropped her bare pussy onto Jungkook’s naked thigh.
-
Wet, hot, and sweet.
“Oooh, fuck…”
He lifted his head, eyes hazy and unfocused, greeted by the sight of Yoongi’s girlfriend straddling his thigh and rubbing her pussy all over him, the scent of her perfume mixing with the scent of her sex, thick and delicious and intoxicating, her soaked opening flexing against his hard muscle, driving him insane, disappointed that she was still mostly dressed.
“Noona…”
Jungkook reached for the belt at her waist, expecting Yoongi to stop him, but he didn’t, letting Jungkook unbuckle it, his hands shaking badly from the pleasure of her pussy touching his naked skin. The gentle slap of her thigh against his balls and cock not enough. He wanted to be touched, but those scrutinizing eyes indicated that she would touch him when she wanted and no sooner. It was making him lose his mind, but he loved it, moaning her name deep from his chest as he struggled to undo the small buttons, flinching and shuddering with her movements.
“I’m sorry, noona…” he gasped, staring into those sultry dark eyes.
She reached up and touched his lips, tracing the shape with her nail, sending shivers all over his body.
“You gonna watch your mouth from now on, Jungkook?” she murmured, trapping him with her gaze, turning the shivers into brimming electricity.
“Y-Yes, noona…”
He undid the last button and she swiftly removed her hand from his mouth and smacked his away, shrugging out of the shirtdress and tossing it to the floor before reaching down to her ass. She opened her mouth and her tongue snaked out, shiny with saliva, using her hands to spread her ass and pussy, squelching down on his hard, tense muscle.
“A-Ah, so good…”
And now he could feel more, the inner lips of her pussy now rubbing on his skin with her clit, slick and slippery, muscles of her opening constricting and relaxing on his thigh, an indescribable feeling, sensual and dirty and raw, the control so precise that her smug expression and upper body remained relaxed, hips still moving at the same rough pace.
Yoongi’s fingers tangled in his hair again, husky voice at his ear.
“Put the fingers of your right hand in her mouth.”
Jungkook obeyed as if spellbound, raising his hand and dipping his fingers into that waiting mouth, her warm tongue wrapping around them and coating them with her saliva, pink muscle gliding between his joints and dancing around his tattoos, spit dribbling down his palm and dropping in fat plops onto his crotch, his body flinching at the contact, unashamedly whimpering his want, Yoongi’s dark chuckle filling his ear.
It must have looked so dirty.
So wrong.
“Take them out.”
Jungkook removed his fingers with a sniffle, the coil in his core so tight he thought he was going to explode.
“Touch yourself.”
His cheeks burned at the thought of his own hand wrapping around his cock in front of two people, adrenaline and thrill burning his veins.
“B… But, hyung…”
“You touched yourself in the bathroom at the restaurant earlier, didn’t you?” that deep purr accused, pulling at his hair, prickling pain shocking his scalp.
“I…” His hand lowered. “I h-had to… noona is just so…” Staring into those heavily shadowed eyes, tongue licking those dark-stained lips, his saliva-coated fingers wrapping around his aching, taut cock, so close to sobbing at the relief of being touched that his voice cracked a little. “So sexy… and she smells s-so goooooood…”
Eyelids fluttering, Yoongi rapping his shoulder, telling him to look at her, telling him to appreciate that hair cascading over her left eye, those breasts cupped perfectly in that black lace bra, that garter and stockings barely encasing those juicy legs and her pussy sliding up and down his thigh, her hands spreading her ass wide so he could feel it as he punishingly and roughly pumped his cock, trembling all over, struggling to get his words out, cheeks burning with embarrassment as he explained but, for some reason, he wanted to explain and became even more aroused by it, relishing in knowing that she was listening intently to his confession.
“You always smell so, so good, noona… I t-touched myself w-while smelling your perfume on my clothes… T-Thinking about you and my hands all over your perfect body and your hands t-touching me…”
Fucking his hand harder, tighter, faster, slipping down, down, knowing what he was going to say next, driving himself to that point, the coil inside causing every muscle to tense, staring right into her eyes, knowing his pupils were blown-out and unfocused.
“T-Touching me like I am right now, abusing my c-cock and… s-stopping right before I c-cum…”
So close, so close, so close, please, please, please…
Her hand shot out and gripped his wrist painfully, forcing him to let go of his cock.
Jungkook cried out in vain, jerking his head forward and bringing tears to his eyes from the pain of Yoongi’s unmoving grip, tugging at his own hair, the sudden denial causing his cock to twitch and slap against her thigh, smearing pre-cum and saliva onto her soft skin, knowing that he wanted it, sinfully satisfied in how perfectly frustrated she made him, reading his signals and torturing him just right.
A merciful, skilled devil in disguise.
The hand left his hair.
Her hips slowed, sitting onto his thigh, an almost unbearable weight that he welcomed.
“Jungkook.”
His head lolled, scalp stinging, staring into her eyes and loving the way she said his name, like her tongue was wrapping around it and caressing it, each syllable drenched with curated possessiveness that was meant just for him.
Yoongi’s fingers snaked around his neck, four fingers fitting under his left ear, thumb pressing onto the pulse just under his right ear.
“You want to finish inside me?” she exhaled, hot and heavy and addictive.
The grip on his neck tightened, pressing on the blood vessels leading to his head.
One of her hands was still on his wrist. The other reached in between his thighs, past his stiff, purple-red cock. Fingers wrapped elegantly around his balls, joints locking, keeping him in a vise-like grip of pure power without adding any unnecessary pressure.
“Y… Yes, please…” he gasped weakly.
The grip of his wrist vanished. He was getting lightheaded, fighting to keep his eyes on her, and her free hand was now finally encircling his cock, finger by finger, making him wait, squeezing his balls a little harder, fuck, her touch, a distinctly different hand and different power, gently stroking his throbbing length as Yoongi choked him and she pulsed her grip around his balls, his breath leaving in shallow gasps and not only from the thinning circulation, but the flashes of pain and the constant pleasure of her hands and her wet pussy flush against his thigh.
“What if I make you cum like this?” she murmured, leaning in, Yoongi pressing in between his shoulder blades and pushing him to her beautiful face, dark and sultry and captivating, her lips now close to his.
“O… Okay…”
It took all of his willpower to hold himself up with his hands.
“You can do whatever you want to me, noona,” Jungkook whispered thinly. “I mean it.”
Yoongi pet his sweaty hair, pushing it away from his forehead, squeezing his neck tighter.
Jungkook choked out her name, desire so potent that he saw something in her eyes flicker. She liked it. She liked him and what she was doing to him and his reaction to it. It gave Jungkook a special kind of high, the kind of arousal that transcended past the sex.
Jungkook couldn’t get out anymore.
He knew he would crave this feeling, the feeling of power in powerlessness.
She leaned forward and pressed her lips to his.
Jungkook’s first kiss with Yoongi’s girlfriend was her forcefully jacking him off as she squeezed his balls and Yoongi choked him, his tongue sloppy and lips quivering, her sucking on it and making him moan with his tongue trapped in her dark lips, his hips twitching and shooting thick strings of cum all over her thigh, his thigh, and the sheets, suddenly slingshot into oxygen when Yoongi let go, adding to the high, his eyes rolling back, shivers racking his body, pleasure so intense that he felt nothing else, absolutely nothing but her touch, her hand leaving his balls and wrapping around his waist, pulling him to her body, her kiss stealing his breath, her cum-covered hand sliding up and down his abused cock.
Jungkook inhaled.
Her perfume invaded his nose, marshmallow sweetness, warmth of green tea, spark of ginger, and he was drunk, drunk on submission, sex, and their power over him.
-
Yoongi loved everything she did.
The way she looked at him.
The way her body moved.
The way she leaned over and kissed him as he pinned Jungkook’s wrists over his head while she was riding the younger man’s cock with a bruising, intense pace, her tongue curling around his, moaning softly into his mouth, lover to lover. With every moment, Yoongi fell more and more in love, addicted to orchestrating the perfect scenarios for his woman to completely ruin someone else.
She broke the kiss.
What a brilliant, satisfied, killer smile.
“O-oh, fuck, so good, fuck, your pussy is s-so good…”
Yoongi sat back and watched her hands slide over Jungkook’s chest, gripping his shoulders and fucking him hard, watching her pretty pussy clench around that cock that was begging for that tightness and that torture, the younger man rolling his hips up with every descent, destroying himself further.
The squelch and slap of skin to skin was audible, loud, and so, so sexy.
Her fingertip flicked the bottom of Jungkook’s chin, smirk on those plush lips now smeared with dark lipstick. There was something erotic about the mess though, her wild hair bouncing with every thrust, faint dark smudges now on his lips and Jungkook’s panting mouth.
“Aren’t you the perfect little fucktoy?” she teased.
There was a tension in her jaw, indicating that she was clenching around the younger man’s cock.
“A-Ah, just f-for you, noona…”
She frowned playfully, cocking a disbelieving eyebrow. “Hmm, I don’t know, sweet boys always have sweet tongues and you’ve already proven yours sometimes says misleading things…”
Jungkook whimpered. “P-Please, I s-said I was sorry… I m-mean it…”
Yoongi liked this begging, this desperate tremble vibrating from that silvery voice.
“I would n-never do something l-like this…”
Jungkook had such a handsome face, even with his cheeks flushed red and his composure falling apart.
“Unless it was y-you… and Yoongi-hyung, oooh, God…”
He raised his eyebrows, making eye contact with her.
She smirked back, dangerous and perfect.
-
“I-I can’t...”
“Yes, you can, Jungkook,” you murmured, arms around his neck, his arms shaking as he held himself up, moaning as you stroked his back, Yoongi behind you, still fully dressed, kneading your breasts, your nipples poking out between his long fingers and giving Jungkook the visual of your cleavage and the hard nubs poking straight out at him.
He groaned, hazy brown orbs returning to your face.
“Please, wanna make you cum with my cock so b-bad…”
You began to rock your hips again, the brief intermission stalling his orgasm over, and now he was moaning again, squirming at the oversensitivity and strained by the denial, your pulsing pussy keeping him hard until you built the pace up again, pushing him to the edge once more.
“Look at you,” you murmured, caressing his neck and back, fingers splayed over his hot skin. “You dream about this, Jungkook? Dream about hyung letting you be noona’s fuck slave?”
His teeth sunk into his lower lip, whining in his chest.
“I-I’m sorry…”
“Shh…”
Your fingers slid up into his hair, cradling his head, smacking your ass down onto his thighs, tightening around his cock. Jungkook moaned into your face helplessly, shuddering at your sensual gesture contrasted by your fierce thrusts.
“I wanted you too,” you whispered hotly, breathing in his clean scent. “You always looked so innocent. Made me want to mess you up every time I saw that handsome, nervous face of yours.”
Your grip tensed around his head, lower half really giving it to him now, bouncing on his cock, letting his thickness and his hardness fill you up over and over again, Yoongi pinching your nipples and rolling them between his fingers, following your rhythm.
“It’s not going to be enough for him, you know,” Yoongi chuckled darkly behind you. “He’s going to come crawling back, begging for more.”
Jungkook bit his lip again, looking from you to Yoongi, already guilty.
You leaned forehead, placing a light kiss on that mole below his lower lip.
“I love it when you beg for me, Jungkook,” you purred.
You could feel it, arousal flaring at your own words, already close and getting closer, pussy pulsating around that satisfying girth.
“Are you going to be patient?” you teased, tugging at his hair, savoring the strained moans from Jungkook’s throat. “Are you going to wait on your knees and watch Yoongi fuck me until he’s satisfied and then come to take his place and show me that you can be good for me too?”
You felt Jungkook’s cock twitch inside you, already enthralled with the idea.
“Y-Yes, noona, p-please…”
Fuck.
You dug your nails into his scalp and moaned deeply, staring into those glazed-over brown orbs, drugged on his lust for you.
“You’re so obedient, fuck, makes me want to cum on this pretty cock of yours and reward you.”
Yoongi pinched your nipples and tugged on them.
The spark collided through you, gasping as your orgasm seized your senses and took over, your eyes rolling back as the powerful jolts made your walls spasm, tension so high that it felt as if your nerves were vibrating, Jungkook’s name tumbling from your lips with a hiss that turned into a groan in unison with his, his overstimulated cock jerking and twitching from the brutal massage of your orgasm, the condom swelling inside you from spurts of his own.
The scent of sex was so strong that even Yoongi moaned, squeezing your breasts roughly.
“F-Fuck…”
You inhaled sharply, feeling Yoongi’s arms wrap around you, nuzzling your neck.
“Don’t I have such good ideas?”
You grinned, seeing Jungkook’s euphoric expression before he pitched forward and leaned his forehead against your other shoulder, panting for breath. His exhale was warm, drifting over your racing heart and heating your heated skin.
“Yes, Yoongi,” you chuckled, stroking his soft blue hair and Jungkook’s sweaty black hair. “You’re a genius.”
-
"Jungkook-ah!"
"Sorry, Jimin-ssi, I can't–" He clenched his jaw, stifling the noise threatening to escape from his throat. "I can't hang out today. I have a deadline for work."
"Aw, that's okay Jungkookie. Do you want hyung to bring you some dinner? I can stop by!"
"I already ate, ah, just now. Thanks anyway."
"Okay, okay, I'll leave you alone. Don't forget your hyungs! You work too much."
Jeon Jungkook made an affirmative grumble. "Talk to you later."
An elegant finger reached over and hung up the call. The same hand lifted his phone from his ear and placed it back on the nightstand. Jungkook wasn't able to hold the phone himself.
He was handcuffed to the headboard.
"A-Ah, noona, fuck!"
Now that he was off the phone, she turned the toy back on, making him yelp and squirm. He whimpered, thighs shaking as his prostrate was assaulted with harsh vibrations, the connected silicone ring choking his cock and balls, flush against the base of both.
He moaned her name helplessly, looking down to see her laying between his legs, jerking forward with every smack of Min Yoongi's hips. His hard, dark red cock was sticking straight up right in front of her face. She heated it with her calm exhale, smiling at his shuddering whine.
"P-Please, touch me, o-o-oh, fuuuuuuuck..."
Yoongi smacked her ass with his open palm, making Jungkook moan at the sight of her ass bouncing from his hyung's dick.
"F-Fuck, please, noona, hyung, please, I wanna c-cum so b-bad..."
She increased the vibration setting and patted his thigh, returning to casually fucking Yoongi as he lost his mind from the jarring, rough pleasure, flexing his core and ass to make his cock jerk and swing in the air, unable to touch himself because of the handcuffs.
He loved it.
Jungkook loved every second of the torture crafted just for him.
-
"What a good boy for his noona."
Jungkook could only moan and whimper in response.
"Mm? Are you a good boy for her? Lying to Jimin so you can spend more time with my lovely woman?"
The younger man whimpered, biting his lip.
“H-Hyung…”
Yoongi smirked as Jungkook’s eyes rolled back, mouth open, gasping wail falling from his mouth as her tongue circled the head of his cock, lapping gently at the sensitive skin. The handcuffs rattled, Jungkook’s hands gripping the chain, tattoos standing out on his arm from his tense muscles. Yoongi watched her hands side up those toned thighs, up shaking hips, up to that slim waist, then drag back down, nails pricking at that skin, creating indents and red lines, visible, wet, glistening tongue toying with the throbbing cock in front of her.
He felt his own twitch inside her. Her muscles clenched around him tightly in response.
She lifted her head, gripping Jungkook’s hips and forcing him down on the bed, him whining and pleading for her to do more, but all three of them knew the way this was going to go and the one in the handcuffs wasn’t calling the shots.
“You keep coming back, Jungkook, and it’s gonna ruin sex for you.”
Her hand slid up his abused cock and balls, playing with them and rubbing the overstimulated skin as Yoongi increased his pace in power and speed, fingers spread out on her hips and sinking in, mirrored by the way she removed her hand from Jungkook’s length and grabbed his hips again, cocking her head, looking down at Jungkook.
“You keep flying high and you’re not going to want to come down.”
Jungkook’s black hair was all over his forehead, messy and sweaty, shudders leaving his swollen lips. The light caught the glint of the silver metal piercing on his trembling eyebrow.
She leaned down, hands crawling up his body, digging her nails in, scratching him up, and Yoongi hissed at the shifted angle, deeper now and more intense, her hair cascading down her shoulders, the sweet scent wafting up, sweet, warm, spicy, his favorite scents in the world melding together.
Sex.
Perfume.
And his woman, a curator of the little, beautiful death.
She chuckled, taunting and playful, placing her forearms on Jungkook’s chest, pushing back against Yoongi and using the other male’s body as leverage, poised in front of Jungkook’s fallen composure, one hand lifting and tracing his lips, enticing that pink tongue to sneak out, begging for a taste.
She shoved her fingers into his mouth, humming approvingly as Jungkook began to suck on them noisily, moaning around her fingers as the rhythm escalated, louder and louder, squeezing his length tighter so Yoongi had to thrust harder, growling in his chest, firmly gripping her ass, faster, rougher, her fingers sliding in further, the wet sounds of tongue and lips adding to the symphony.
Her words the crescendo.
“The jetset life is gonna kill you, Jungkook.”
The fire flared to an unbearable tension and Yoongi hissed her name, clenching his jaw and scratching her back hard, causing her to let out a long, drawn-out moan, clenching around his entire length and he came, cock jerking against her punishing walls, shooting his orgasm into the condom, his fingers sliding down her back, groaning satisfyingly when she matched him, her cum gushing out and sticking to his crotch and thighs, sweet purr of his name drifting out of her lips, her fingers slipping from Jungkook’s mouth, shiny with saliva and wiping it all over his chin.
“O-o-oh, fuuuuuuuck, please…”
And she didn’t forget, not even in her ecstasy, her hand wrapping around Jungkook’s neck, choking him strongly, driving him to the edge.
-
It took seconds.
Your lips curved into a smirk, Jungkook’s shaking, half-lidded brown orbs saturated with lust, vibrations and visuals and now the loss of blood leaving him breathless, lightheaded, and at your mercy.
Open mouth, gasping out your name.
Then he threw his head back, airlessly screaming, handcuffs rattling, muscles standing out all over his body from the searing tension, tattoos glistening with sweat, eyes rolling back, hips jolting up and shooting cum all over your stomach and his, orgasm so intense that he arched his back and jammed his cock between your bodies, your hand releasing him, Jungkook sobbing at the relief of his aching length still flinching and twitching, the hot head of his cock throbbing against your skin, still dribbling out hot cum in between your bodies, thick and slick.
You slithered on top of him, smearing it everywhere.
“Oh, God, n… noona…”
-
“Asleep already?”
You petted Jungkook’s head, smoothing his hair. “He had an eventful night.”
Yoongi chuckled. “He asked for it.”
Jungkook scooted closer to your heat, burying his nose in your chest, inhaling deeply.
Yoongi kissed the top of your head affectionately and you reached for his hand, running your fingertips over his knuckles. He placed it on your bare hip, tracing his marks on you.
“So, next time…”
“You’re already planning next time, huh?” You turned your head to look at those mischievous, cat-like eyes shrouded by strands of wispy light blue.
Yoongi ticked a brow. “Do you think he’s going to stop? I made him wait a whole month from the first time to this time and he gave me puppy eyes every chance he got.”
You shook your head with a smile, turning back to run your fingers through Jungkook’s black hair. “I wonder how you survived.”
“I looked away.”
You snickered and lifted Yoongi’s hand, pressing his fingertips to your lips.
“I would make him look away from me,” you murmured, low and dangerous.
“Hmm, then I’ll let you decide when next time will be.”
“Not counting tomorrow morning, right?”
“Of course.”
You felt Jungkook’s lips press onto your skin, a soft kiss inviting you and Yoongi to destroy him more.
--
masterpost
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scarofthewind · 3 years
Note
I’m going to do it. I’m requesting Bughuul. I have a specific idea to go along with him though. I could see him wanting to make a sex tape with his s/o. Of course there would be smut but what’s a sex tape without it? At least there would be no cause for concern about the tape getting leaked, because we known damn well he filmed the whole thing with a Super 8 camera. It’s sounds sexy in my head but I think you could bring this to life really well.
-if it doesn’t inspire you I get it :)
request: This came to mind and I must request it. How about a slasher who wears a suit *cough, Bughuul, cough* takes off his tie and uses it to restrain the reader for some rough sex? Plus, I don’t think you’ve done this with him before but spanking would be rly hot and have the reader bent over his knee. Ovaries exploded
A/N: You just posted this request too and I thought it would be hot to combine them so I hope you don’t mind and I hope you enjoy!
Warnings: NSFW, sex tape, bondage, spanking, dom/sub, blowjob, face-fucking
word count: 1.8k Tip Jar (every bit helps)
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“I think it’s working now,” you say aloud as you fixate the camera on an easel in the corner of the room. It was pointing at the bed which was neatly made and ready to be wrinkled in no time; the Super 8 camera had a fresh roll of film so that you could take as long as you wanted with your lover who stood off to the side with his arms crossed over his chest, watching you prop the object up. “Okay, it’s rolling,” your words made Bughuul reach up and loosen his tie, your eyes following the way his fingers gripped the collar of the satin material, tugging it down and taking it off with ease. 
“Come here,” he said, his voice deep yet smooth like a fine wine. You had already played this moment out in your head for days and now that you were finally here, it felt like all your senses were heightened. You stepped towards him, the camera filming from it’s corner, and stopped when you stood directly in front of him. It was quiet for a moment and a shiver ran through you; you had already undressed and wore your undergarments to save time and camera footage.
“I’m going to ask you again; are you okay with this?” His voice echoed in your head for a moment but you nodded without hesitation, your need for him much greater than the fear of what bruising you’d have tomorrow. “I need to hear you say it,” he said and you consented with a simple, ‘yes Sir’, a low hum residing in his chest at your name for him. “Turn around for me.”
You did as you were told, a soft gasp leaving your lips when you felt his fingertips ghost over the back of your neck, sliding down your shoulders and arms until he reached your wrists. Large hands brought them behind your back where the cool feeling of his satin tie made its way around them, binding them tightly together. Once he gave them a tug to make sure you couldn’t pull them apart, Bughuul released your arms and made his way towards the bed, sitting on the edge of it and waiting. You knew what to do. 
Padding over to him, he helped you lay across his lap, your rear raised perfectly for his hands to grope the flesh there. “You’re going to count for me; only fifteen for tonight,” he told you and you obliged, tilting your face towards the camera and hoping it would make for a great show. The only problem with Bughuul spanking you, is the fact that you always forget how much it hurts. The second his hand came down on your bare flesh, you let out a yell, your wrists struggling against the tie. 
“O-One,” you practically hissed in pain as his hand kneaded the sore spot on your rear, massaging the pain into your muscle before bringing his hand back and doing it again. 
Bughuul found it amusing to watch you squirm, your bound hands reaching towards his abdomen and gripping the shirt he was wearing as leverage. With gentle fingers, he worked on rubbing your cunt through your panties which already had a dark spot showing. He hummed at the soft moan you let out when his index finger traced over your clothed slit and circled around your clit. You wanted to open your mouth and beg for him to touch you but you knew better than that; it would only earn you twice as much spankings and he wouldn’t touch you for the rest of the night in the places you needed him.
So you stayed quiet and counted for him while he used one hand to lay harsh slaps on your behind while his other hand slowly peeled your panties to the side, exposing your glistening pussy to his eyes. “Keep counting,” he reminded you when you stopped, your teeth digging into the sheets below your head in order to muffle the cries of pain. With one finger, he drug the tip of it through your lips, parting them and collecting your juices on it; nothing but a string of your essence connecting the two when he pulled his hand back. 
Bughuul never let his fingers enter your anticipating hole, but only rubbed against it instead, the friction against your clit making you cry out in pleasure every time his knuckle bumped the bundle of nerves. When he finally reached fifteen, the spanking stopped and he massaged your cheeks gently, soothing the burning pain that coursed through your backside. However, the gentleness was shortcoming before he was ordering you around with no time to delay. 
“Go get the camera, my love,” he said with a heavy tone as he helped you stand. He untied your wrists for a moment and you obliged, returning with it in your hands before you set it down on the bed. “On your knees.” You felt yourself sink to the ground, one of his legs on either side of your face while he bent around you and tied your wrists back into place, tighter this time. You watched as he unbuckled his pants and tugged them down with his boxers until they were at his feet, his cock upright and harder than you thought possible. 
As soon as his hands grabbed the camera and pointed it down at you, it clicked in your head as to what he was expecting and you once again obliged, leaning forward and taking the tip of his cock into your mouth. “That’s it, take it deeper, just like that,” he groaned, watching you swallow his cock, his hips rocking against your mouth for a second before he stood up, his length going deeper into your throat and causing your eyes to water at the pressure. “Let me see those pretty eyes, (Y/N),” he snapped and you looked up at the camera, making sure to give a good show as you swirled your tongue around the tip of his cock. 
You felt your eyes widen when one of his hands entangled its fingers in your hair, using it as leverage before he slowly started to buck his hips against your face, occasionally moving your head along his shaft as well. “Good fucking girl,” he grunted, his member twitching in your throat as you moaned around him. Tears fell from your eyes but you forced yourself to stare up at the camera, knowing damn well you looked absolutely fucked out at this point. Bughuul let you be his personal cock-sleeve for what felt like forever; your juices were dripping on the ground by the time he pulled you off his cock and moved you over to the bed. 
He could care less about the camera at this point as he slams in on the nightstand, the lamp propping it up as it kept rolling. “I can’t stand not being inside you any longer,” he growled as he flipping you on your stomach, raising your ass to meet his front as he moved your panties to the side, pressing the tip of his cock against your sopping pussy before thrusting in without warning. 
“Fuck!” You shouted into the pillows at the stretch of his cock barreling inside you. You could feel the tip of it hit the deepest parts of you and it sent you into a moaning mess as he aimed for that spot over and over again. 
The sounds of grunting and moaning as well as skin slapping against skin was all you could hear and the warm breath of your lover moved down your back as his grip on your hips tightened. “Bughuul, please, ah- please let me touch you,” you whined, your bound hands starting to numb from how tight he’d tied them. 
The deity watched as you tried to untie the satin bindings and he let out a dark chuckle before grabbing your wrists and untying them. Within a second, you moved to flip over, dragging him with you and ending up where you were on top of him. Peering down at him you worked the buttons of his shirt until you slid it off him, moving down to kiss the bare skin around his chest before letting him grab your head and press the area where his mouth would be, against yours. 
You still didn’t know how it was possible for a man with no mouth to kiss better than a man with one, but you didn’t want to ponder on the thought at this point. Sitting up, you reached behind your back and unclasped your bra, letting it fall down your arms before you threw it off to the side. Like magnets, Bughuul’s rough hands cupped your breasts, his chest rising and falling as you started to move on his cock. “It’s so deep,” you whined, feeling the tip of his cock hit your cervix, the air almost being knocked out of your lungs. 
Bughuul took notice in the way your thighs shook from the repeating action of bouncing on his cock and he sat up, feeling your legs encircle his waist before he towered over you and put you on your back. He let his face be buried in your neck, inhaling your scent as he fucked into you like a madman. “Your so warm,” he groaned, the contrast against his cool skin made him nearly shiver. He moved to sit up a bit, watching the way your cunt took his cock and left a ring of white around the base. “That’s so dirty,” he hissed, feeling your walls clamp around his shaft while he thought about the fact that you were creaming on his cock. 
Reaching towards your clit, Bughuul pressed his thumb against it, rolling it around at a quick pace and watching your face contort into pleasure, your hands gripping the sheets below you. “That’s it pretty girl, come for me,” Bughuul let out a low groan as he felt your walls suck him deeper as you came, pulsating around his member and tightening enough for him to shoot his load into you. He rocked into your messy pussy a few more times, riding out the orgasms before he braced himself over you. 
“Jesus Christ,” you panted, your thighs trembling from the force of the orgasm. Bughuul chuckled in a sickly-sweet tone and grabbed your jaw, fingers biting into the skin there. 
“He’s got nothing to do with this. My name better be the only thing coming out of those pretty lips this time, understand?” You felt the air around you go cold and you looked towards the camera to see that there was plenty of film left and a shiver went up your spine. 
“This time?” You knew you weren’t going anywhere for the next few hours.
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pascalpanic · 4 years
Text
Drunk Words (Frankie Catfish Morales x f!Reader)
Drunk Words / Sober Thoughts part one of two
Summary: Frankie’s drunk off his ass and needs a ride home. PART ONE of a two part Frankie fic
W/C: 2.7k+
Warnings: language, copious amounts of alcohol, Frankie is absolutely shitfaced
A/N: THANK U TO MY BABE @sanchosammy for this idea!!! I love it so much I fuckin LOVE my baby frankie
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As you roll over in bed, you groan. You’ve been up for about 20 minutes now, unable to return to the blissful sleep that had been enveloping you before. The time on your watch now reads 3:07. You frown and grab your phone, lying on your side. The light is bright enough to make you squint, and you smile at the text thread you’ve received from Frankie tonight.
The man brings nothing but happiness to your life. You really do love Frankie, not just platonically. You want to hold his big and strong hands, want to lift up his ball cap and kiss him on the forehead, want to fluff the hat hair he always gets from that Standard Oil cap. More than anything, you want to softly kiss that little patch in his beard. It’s just existing there, perfectly clean even when he’s almost at a full beard. His tough fingers scratch it and you giggle, looking away when he asks what’s so funny. Nothing, Fish, you immediately reply. Fishie, if you’re feeling a little more flirtatious.
Frankie might be feeling the same, you’ve noticed lately. He’s a little more touchy with you. He hugs you longer than the other men, makes you dance with him when a good song comes on. He lets it happen when you steal his ball cap and wear it, where he’d scold and smack any of the other men for it. He lends you his flannel when you’re cold, wrapping it gingerly around your shoulders.
It’s been a long time that you’ve been friends now. Just recently, you’ve come to appreciate him differently. The way he hugs you warms your heart still, but it makes your heart race and your hands sweat. It makes you want to lift your face from where it rests in his neck and kiss him softly, your fingers working into that little bald patch on his jaw.
Even now, as he’s clearly drunk, you adore him. How can you not?
Frankie 🚁: attachment: one image
You open the photo and laugh. It’s a blurry selfie of Frankie, an arm draped over Santiago’s shoulders. The two men make faces like they’re going to bite the other, and it makes you chuckle aloud. You can see his fluffy curls peeking out from beneath the cap, and you desperately want to play with them. The image is blurry, showing that it must’ve been moving while he took it.
Frankie 🚁: missing u tonight, Santiago says he doesn’t like me when you’re not around
Frankie 🚁: holy fuck their new beer is really good, you gotta try it soon
Frankie 🚁: lol I fuckin love the nachos here
Frankie 🚁: snati is so annoying, pls get him away from me
Frankie 🚁: u r probably sleep sorry :((((
Frankie 🚁: can we got o a zoo soon?? I wanna see animals 🦫🐈🐕‍🦺🦡
You laugh out loud at the words, at Frankie’s terrible typing. He must be shitfaced. He’s hilarious when he’s drunk.
The last text was only four minutes ago.
Me: Alright, Fishie. Stop drinking and eat something. No more beer.
Frankie 🚁: ha I’m drinking that Coffey shit… Kalua?? isk but it’s so gooood
Your phone rings, filling the screen with your profile picture of Frankie. It’s a photo of him smiling, his dimple evident. Your cheek is pressed to his, grinning just as wide. God, he’s so fucking cute. You love him so much.
You take a second and stare at the photo before pressing the answer button and putting it on speaker. “Hey, Fish.”
“Hey,” he laughs, dragging the word out long and slow. “S’a shame you weren’t here, Will’s been buying all night.” His words are slurred and woozy. You can hear the roar of the bar behind him.
“Ah, so that’s why you’re shitfaced,” you laugh into the phone.
“Precisely,” he slurs, a smile clear in his voice. “I can’t drive.”
“I’m glad you realize that. What do you want me to do about that? I can have an Uber coming your way in ten minutes.”
“Will you pick me up?” He asks, his voice like a child’s. “Fuckin’ Ubers cost money, ‘n I just wanna see your pretty face.”
“Frankie,” you warn but feel your body warm at the notion.
“You got a cute little nose,” he laughs. “Just wanna boop it. Can I boop it? Just go… boop, boop boop. Right on the nose.”
You sigh. “Fine. I’ll be there in twenty minutes. You’re so fucking lucky I think you’re cute.”
“Thank you,” he practically sings. “See you then. Mwah.”
You throw on a hoodie and walk to your car, not caring to cover up your patterned flannel shorts that you sleep in. Your hair is messy, you don’t have makeup on, you don’t really give a shit. It’s Frankie.
Once you reach the bar, you shoot him a text, and the four men stumble outside. “Yo!” Benny calls and rushes over to you. It’s clear his normal balance has left his body for the night, his body a little wobbly. He’s an excited drunk. He slams on your window until you lower it. “Hey, you missed out on a good time,” he grins. His words blur together too.
Frankie follows behind him, an arm thrown across him. He’s still got a little balance. “Missed you so much, cariño. Santi’s being an ass.”
You look up at Will. “These fuckers need a ride too?” He’s the responsible one of the men, even when intoxicated.
He shakes his head. “Got an Uber coming. They’re staying at my place tonight.”
Frankie puts a hand on the car to steady himself. “Knew you’d come. Pretty girl always comes through for me, even at 3 A.M., thank you,” he slurs happily, his eyes half open.
Santiago leans against your car. “Hey gorgeous. We missed you.”
“Yeah, yeah,” you roll your eyes. “Get the grizzly bear in the car.”
Frankie laughs at the words. “Ooh, I like that. Big and fluffy but murderous.”
“I’m about to get murderous if you don’t get in the car right now, Francisco Morales.”
“Oh, snap!”
“Shit, man.”
Benny gives a whistle. The men all make noises in commentary and laugh, Will opening the door. Frankie flops down inside. Benny ensures that all of his limbs have made it in and shuts the door. “Don’t party too hard with him tonight,” Santiago calls and you roll your eyes.
The two of you drive off and out of the bar parking lot.
“Hey, Fish,” you say, snapping your fingers in front of his face. “Buckle up. I’m not getting in trouble for your dumb ass.”
“You always do, though,” he mumbles and tilts his head to look at you. “You’re so good to me.”
“I’m a fucking saint,” you sigh sarcastically. “Seriously, buckle up. If you can’t do it yourself, we’re going to the ER for alcohol poisoning.”
“No,” he whines and pouts at you. “Just wanna be close to you. Wanna just…” he trails off and rests his head against your shoulder. “Mm. There. Your skin is so soft.”
“That’s my hoodie, Frankie.”
He takes a deep breath in through his nose, the scent clicking in his addled brain. “No, that’s my hoodie.”
He’s right, you realize. You grabbed a random sweatshirt and pulled it on before leaving. You’re the one who’s always cold at gatherings, leaving Frankie to share one of his many layers with you. You smile a bit. “It’s comfy.”
“I like it better on you. I really like you in my clothes, you know that? Wear them way better than I can. You just look so cute and so little.”
“Frankie, I’m 5’9,” you refute and glare down at him, where he looks up at you with puppy-dog mocha-colored eyes.
“Just look so small in ‘em. I’m like 6’0, you know that.”
“I do know that, Francisco. You remind us all the time,” you laugh, removing his ball cap and tossing it into his lap. “Still shorter than Benny. Get that hat off and I think you’re shorter than Santi.”
“I’m taller than him,” Frankie whines at the reminder. “How come Benny’s the baby and he’s so tall? He’s like a fuckin’ giraffe up there, can never see his stupid face,” he pouts.
“He’s too tall for comfortable hugs,” you nod in agreement. “And Santi is too short. And Will is too fucking awkward,” you laugh. You purposely leave out the bit about how perfect hugs from Frankie are, how much you dream about them and crave them.
His dark brows furrow as he looks up at you with glazed eyes. “Wha’bout me?”
The car stops for a moment as a light in front of you turns red. You smile down at him and push his messy curls from his forehead. “I like hugging you. You’re comfy.”
“Ha, grizzly bear hugs,” he slurs. “Y’should call me that more often. I like it when you call me things the boys don’t. Makes me feel tingly,” he laughs, lovestruck as he looks up at you.
“Tingly?”
“Yeah, like when they put the meds in before they steal your teeth.”
“Steal your teeth?” You laugh loudly, toying with one of the curls. “Do you mean get a tooth removed?”
“Same thing. I don’t like it when they do it then. I like it when you call me stuff though. Fishie makes me laugh and feel happy.”
“Oh yeah?” God, he’s so fucking precious. He looks at you like a puppy stares at their owner, pure and unadulterated love radiating from them. “I’ll need to call you Fishie more often then.”
It’s quiet for a while. Frankie’s head still rests against your shoulder. He can feel all of the tiny muscles move as you steer and navigate the car. He likes the way they move, making his drunken head even more floaty. After a few moments, he shifts to lean against the car door, just watching you.
The music drifting from the radio is soft and quiet. You almost think Frankie’s fallen asleep, since he’s so quiet, but you look over and see him gazing over at you. “Penny for your thoughts, Fish.”
You’re expecting something stupid. Frankie is quite the philosopher when he’s drunk, always asking odd rhetorical questions. ‘Is a muffin an unfrosted cupcake?’ has always been a favorite of his. He’s never quite made up his mind about it, waxing poetic about the difference in the two baked goods.
He always says something stupid, but this time, his sober thoughts become his drunken words. “You’re the most absolute prettiest woman I’ve ever seen,” he smiles at you, those pink lips curled into a soft smile. It shows off his dimple, and you want to scream from how cute he looks. One of his big hands reaches over and cups your face.
“You’re drunk,” you shake your head, looking back at the road. “Don’t be stupid.”
“No, I mean yeah. Kinda drunk and really stupid, ha, but I mean it. You’re so fuckin’ pretty, cariño.” The backs of his fingers trace across the side of your face, resting on the side of your neck now.
You look down at yourself, still skeptical. “No, I know what you’re gonna say,” he pouts, beating you to the punch. “You’re in your pajamas and your hair is all messy ‘n whatever, but you’re so pretty. Your face is so cute. I love your nose. Just wanna…” he leans over and makes good on his promise for earlier. “Boop,” he coos as he pokes the tip of your nose, smiling wide. “You’re so cute. The guys make fun’a me because I never shut up about it.”
“Oh really?” you ask, raising an eyebrow and laughing.
“Yeah. Santi says I’m in love with you,” he murmurs, sitting back against the car window.
You gulp as you force yourself to grip the steering wheel harder, staring at the white dashes separating the two-lane road. “Yeah? What do you have to say on the matter?”
“I’m kinda thinkin’ he might be right.” His voice is small and quiet.
You shake your head again, eyes watering from the honesty. There’s no way he can think that. He’s shitfaced. He doesn’t mean it, there’s no way. He’s never been more than a friend, done anything to indicate romance.
Or… maybe he has, you reflect. He pays for your drinks most nights. He’ll order something you want and share it with you. He’s always a little touchier than he is with the boys. “You don’t mean that,” you say quietly, swallowing hard.
Whatever common sense he has left tells him to be quiet, so he does. He sits there silently for the rest of the drive, the tension palpable between the two of you. When you finally reach his house and park, you hold your breath. You don’t know what to do, what to say, but you can’t just let him go inside without saying anything. He sits up a little straighter as he realizes he’s come to a stop.
You bite your lip and look over at him. “I should help you inside.”
He nods and you turn off the car, putting the key in the pocket of your hoodie. You get out and walk to Frankie’s side, opening his door. He reaches his arms out to you and you chuckle a little. He looks like a helpless little child.
“Alright, grizzly bear,” you grunt as he swings his feet out and you help lift him to his feet. His arms cling to you tight until he’s standing up.
“Thanks,” he murmurs and wraps an arm around your shoulder when he’s upright.
“Don’t thank me yet,” you chuckle.
Using you as a crutch, he walks alongside you and into his house. He fumbles with the key until you open it for him, then lock it behind you. He leads the way to his room, opening the door and sighing as he sees his bed.
“Not yet,” you say as he tries to get to the bed. “Come on.” You pull his flannel off, leaving him in the t-shirt underneath. “Okay, go on.” He flops down onto his bed with a happy noise. Once he’s down, you unlace his boots and pull them off, then his socks.
Standing at his side, you undo his belt. “Woah,” he laughs. “‘M way too drunk for that, pretty girl. Kinda wanna though.”
“Shut the fuck up, Fish,” you laugh and thread it through the loops, tossing it aside. “I’m getting your clothes off so you can sleep.”
“Oh,” he sighs, giggling drunkenly as you pull his pants off. “Kinda feels like we’re gonna fuck.”
“Maybe another time,” you tease and pull the covers over him. Pushing his curls from his face, you softly kiss his cheek. “Call me when you’re sober, okay?”
He frowns and grabs the hand on his face with both of his rough palms. “Don’t leave me,” he pouts.
“Frankie,” you sigh and look at your watch. “It’s 3:35 in the goddamn morning.”
“Then stay the night,” he begs. “You said you like hugging me. I want you to hug me all night long,” he sighs, kissing your fingertips. You smile softly. It’s a good offer, you have to admit. He makes it even harder to say no. “I won’t be able to sleep if you’re not here when I wake up.”
“Lots of things can happen while you’re asleep, Fishie. I can-”
“Mm, Fishie,” he says with a smile, his eyes fluttering closed. “Come snuggle with me, pretty girl.”
You sigh as you look at the man. It’s not like you haven’t spent time pressed into his side, watching a sports game or a movie. You and Frankie are affectionate friends. He looks so warm and inviting, his body radiating heat. “Fine,” you give in. “Only because I’m cold.”
“Not ‘cause you like me too?” he asks and rolls over, leaving room for you.
“We can discuss that when you’re sober.” The spot he laid is warm and cozy, his body heat making it perfect for you. You slide under the covers next to him and he wraps his arms around you, pulling you into his chest.
Frankie presses a sloppy kiss to your head, smiling. You can hear his slow and steady heartbeat. “G’night cariño,” he mumbles, lips still buried in your hair.
“Goodnight, Frankie,” you whisper.
He falls asleep almost instantly, and you’re close behind him. You’ve never been more at peace than when you fall asleep in Frankie Morales’s arms.
-
read part two: SOBER THOUGHTS
-
taglist:
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Text
(WARNING!!! READ BEFORE READ MORE!)
(The following post is much more intense than usual, even for taspblog standards. And you know that's saying something because Jesus christ just look at the stuff that's been posted before this for lore. That being said. 77 is a major asshole, this has been established, and as such has no moral regards. His narrative is unreliable at best and a downright lie in some places at worst. And the content here is more intense than usual because of these reasons.
Take note that the following is in this post: Stanley screaming in pain, unreliable narration, hinted body horror towards the end (which is a lie), active intense harm via electrocution, detailed questions and answers regarding the zending and skip ending, high intensity torment, and overall discomforting material. If any of this is not your thing, I'd advise not reading this post. Read at your own discretion, and enjoy the final tape.
-Stadmin)
[ One is going to have my head on the wall when they see how many tapes this is taking... ]
*click*
*click*
[ Sigh. Let's speed this up, such a headache... ]
[ 427, you are making this increasingly difficult. We're moving on to part two. About four months ago 'New Content' had been added to the experiment. Do you remember it? ]
Yes.
[ And you correctly remember the added reset points? ]
The endings? Yes, I remember.
[ Could you list the new features added? The order does not matter for this specific question. ]
The Stanlurines, The Infinite Hole, The Reassurance Bucket, The Jump Circle... and the new endings.
[ Is that all? ]
Yes, that is A҉A҉A҉A҉A҉A҉A҉A҉A҉A҉A҉A҉U҉G҉H҉ ҉F҉U҉C҉K҉ THE MEMORY ZONE! THE SKIP BUTTON! GOD
[ There you are. Now why is that so hard? These were added not all that long ago. It should all be fresh on your mind. ]
...
[ Is there a problem, 427? ]
No. 
[ Good. Let’s start with the bucket. After the addition of the bucket would you say you were more willing to comply with order? ]
...No?
[ No. ]
How do you even A҉A҉A҉A҉A҉A҉ ҉W҉H҉Y҉!? WHY!? WHY!?
[ Wrong answer. ]
HOW IS THERE A WRONG ANSWER TO THAT? YOU WERE ASKING ME E҉A҉A҉A҉A҉A҉A҉A҉A҉A҉G҉H҉ ҉F҉U҉C҉K҉!҉
[ I'd recommend you stop talking back. You've done quite enough of that and. We are. . . . . excuse me. ]
~~~~~~~
Why are the lights off now?
[ ...To keep energy for the voltage. Speaking of. You are entering dangerous territory 427. Very dangerous territory. Nearly lethal. For times sake, I’ll skip to the more interesting... important questions. I cant imagine they’ll be happy if I keep you for too long now, after all. Yes, we simply must rush ahead. There is no other choice. ]
Okay...? Whatever you are getting at, just get it over with. Please.
[ Ah, good. The shocks are effective. Noted. Then we shall revisited the more difficult questions, as you seem to have a clearer mind now. How many jumps? ]
On the jump circle? It was-
[ No. How many jumps did it take. ]
I don't believe I understand.
[ You do. But if you need a gentle reminder, I am more than happy to- ]
It was four. It took four falls, or jumps, or whatever you want me to say here.
[ How many times was it you reached this reset point? ]
Only twice. Or three times, if we are counting times without death.
[ Correct. How compliant of you. Regarding Three being once more humanized during the project’s run, how did that effect the- ]
Is this going to reflect on him? Like my answers or behavior? Because it really shouldn’t, I mean, the experiment is over and my choices are my own, and I know the whole choices thing was kind of the point, I think, to reinforce that in me if I remember correctly. But I think it really should not effect him because well he did his job and I see no reason why what I do now or even then should be brought up when reviewing A҉A҉A҉A҉A҉A҉A҉A҉A҉A҉A҉G҉H҉ ҉O҉H҉ ҉M҉Y҉ ҉G҉O҉D҉ ҉S҉T҉O҉P҉ ҉T҉H҉I҉S҉ ҉P҉L҉E҉A҉S҉E҉ ҉G҉O҉D҉
[ Stop yourself from interrupting the procedure 427. You are not helping your case, I must say. But I won’t bother, it’s clear you’d rather lead yourself and that question to a dead end rather than be of use. What about the skip button? Tell me, how long did it feel for you? How much longer do you think it felt for Three? Would you say you were guilted into further compliance after said incident? Really, we need as many details as possible. Don’t shy of telling any bit of it. I want to know every detail of how it felt. ]
. . .
[ Really now? You were doing so well. Do you need me to dumb this down for you? The skip button 427. Describe the experience. ]
. . .
[ Failure to answer a question shall be marked as incorrect. ]
. . .
[ Have it your way. ]
.҉ ҉ ҉ ҉.҉ ҉ ҉ ҉.҉ ҉ ҉ ҉.҉ ҉ ҉ ҉.҉ ҉ ҉ ҉.҉ ҉ ҉ ҉.҉
[ 427. ]
. . .
[ ... ]
*click*
~~~~~~~
*click*
[ Well, what an utterly disappointing waste of time that was! 427 managed to ruin the fun interview just as it was starting. Talking to security, they told me on my last shock where he was conscious, he had managed to rip the cords connected up off of him and exposed the wires, making the shock much more intense than intended. At least I got one interesting response. 427 has been sent to the 300s Department to be properly handled once he had semi recovered enough for procedure. But I caught a glance before they dragged that body out. It will be quite moment before they can even identify the sorry fuck. A job well done I’d say. Worth the pay grade at least, maybe even raise worthy. ]
[ I’ll send this tape with the others to the 100s Department to be reviewed and archived before reporting my findings to Four. I highly request we do a follow-up with Three as well for more findings. Though I doubt they’ll give me the task, that coward is going to get off the hook with some boringly safe interview. If they even make him take one. I would like to make a request for another copy of the data as it stands to compare, if possible. That is all. Dismissal of Tapes #689-691 regarding Case #84 and the follow-up interview with employee 427. ]
*click*
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lilxberry · 3 years
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I Watched You Die} 6 - Natasha Romanoff
Synopsis;
Someone from Natashas’ past makes the most of unsuspected arrivals and begins to cause issues, not only for her, just everyone they come into contact with. HYDRA uses them as a simple puppet and Natasha believes that maybe, just maybe, she could get them back to her in the way she remembers.
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Warnings: Language. Fighting. Terrible writing (this chapter was terrible.)
Words: 3,123
Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Reader (female reader) (super soldier reader) (HYDRA reader)
(A/N: There’s some time jumps that aren’t stated but it’s still relatively easy to follow in that sense. Also, this chapter is more so a filler but nonetheless is related to the story.)
(A/N 2: Strucker and interactions with him are in German and a small interaction with Wanda is in Slovak as a substitute for Sokovian. There is some Russian in this but it’s quite easy to distinguish between the languages’ used.)
< Chapter 5    Chapter 7 >
_______________
Her head throbbed and her neck was stiff and pained from its lolled position it had been in hours on end. Even with her head tilted forward and down towards the hard floor beneath her, the light felt harsh against her eyes, a stinging, burning sensation appearing each time she cracks an eye open.
“Ah, I hope you slept well, Miss Romanoff.”
The familiarity in the voice caused Natasha to tense and she willed her eyes to open and remain as such. Raising her head, her eyes automatically lock on to the figure before her in which everyone believed was dead.
“How are you here?”
The man chuckled and began to take steps towards the tied up red head, his hands folded together behind his back, a smug look etched into his features. “It is quite incredible the technology we have within this day and age, yes?”
Her features twisted up into a sneer, glaring at the one of the few notorious HYDRA leaders they, the Avengers, had come to face. “Why can’t people just stay dead?”
Strucker rounded her body leaving her to look at the room they held her within; bland in colour but crowded with technology. “I believe you’re also not referring to only me now, are you?” He clicks his tongue. “Yes, Y/N. Our best asset yet. The twins were exceptional, yes and the winter soldier was successful until recent years, but Y/N is our best creation.”
His German accent is thick as the words pass into her ears and registers his words, but his next sentence as he leans down to whisper right beside her head makes her blood run cold. “Finding her on the brink of death was undoubtfully wonderful, on our part at least.”
The man chuckled as he straightened himself back out, standing to his full height before rounding her seated position once more to stand before her. “How are our previous assets, anyways? The updates Ghost gives are quite minimal in unnecessary data.”
Silence. Strucker tsked at her lack of response and spun on heel, taking one, two, three steps forward before coming to a standstill. “I suppose you’d like to know why we have you hear,” he called over his shoulder to her. When he was met with silence once more, he continued.
“S.H.I.E.L.D. and the Avengers have certainly been a right ganz schlimmer, a large spanner in our works. We run smoothly when you and your little friends keep out of our business. Perfectly running machinery. So, we’re simply removing the issue with our operation. You.” (Fucking pain.)
Slow and intimidating were his steps as he little by little made his way over towards a board of panels which, much like every other piece of technology was surrounded by people in off-white lab coats. His fingers danced over the multiple of buttons that littered the deck of the panel.
“You may not think so yourself but, we believe you are the strongest of your little band of heroes. No, not physically. Mentally? Yes. We also believe, if we break you, the rest of the team will surely follow in crumbling down.”
His eyes linger on one spot in particular on the panel, his finger hovering over it. “Now you’re also wondering why I’m electing to tell you all this. The answer is simple, really.” He pushes down on a button, resulting in the chair that Natasha is strapped to, to recline backwards, much like a chair in a barbers’, before laying her flat.
“You’re stuck here.”
Natashas’ head looks from left to right in a frantic manner as Strucker steps away from the lengthy panel of buttons and stalks towards her, his boots quietly squeaking against the cold, smooth floor of the room.
Above her is some form of machinery she could best describe as terrifying in appearance, harsh glinting metal and a mass of wires. Movement to both her left and right signify to her that people are beginning to close in on her and surround her. Panic rises in her body further as someone steps closer to her head holding what she believed was a mouth guard; something she’ll be biting down on.
She shakes her head in a desperate attempt to avoid the object but with no such luck. Someone had violently grasped her jaw in a bruising grip and forced the guard into her mouth. Strucker leans over her laying form and the evil grin on his face is purely sickening.
“Have you ever felt 450 volts of electricity surged through your body before? No? Oh, don’t worry. IT should be over before you know it.” He pulls back, making Natasha follow his with her eyes. Her protests are muffled by the guard in her mouth. “But, please, be mindful when it comes to the convulsions that follow. You wouldn’t like to break a bone, surely.”
Strucker walks towards yet another panel, this time with AMP and voltage gages along with other gages she couldn’t quite make out from her position. He places his hand atop a dial and nods his head once to one of the many people scuttling around the room. She feels something be attached to each temple and it reminds her strongly of the old school, brutal electroshock therapy that doctors used to dole out.
“Shall we move this along and see how long it takes until you break?”
Natasha spots your body stood stiff and squared near the door at the foot of the room, features lacking any show of emotion. Her eyes widened, and she desperately hoped that her eyes asked what she couldn’t.
‘Help me.’
Your being, unmoving and unchanged, is the last thing she sees before searing hot pain shots through her body. She bites down on the guard and releases and ear-piercing scream around it as her whole-body tenses and her back arches up, fists clenched tightly, and toes curled.
Her body falls limp for a short moment before the process repeats, over and over. Like an unending, destructive cycle.
_______________
The team had tirelessly put in every effort to find the missing ex-assassin. When Natasha had taken too long to return to the others, Clint did what was asked of him. He waited until the end of the following day when she had left before telling the others.
With no sightings and no communication from the Avenger, they were at a lost.
4 days had passed, coming close to 5, with no such luck in finding Natasha. Every member of the close-knit team had put in hours and hours on end into locating her; everything had been fruitless. The team had chewed out the archer for not mentioning anything sooner than he had but he had argued that he valued his word and believed Natsha would be fine, that she could look after herself.
They couldn’t argue with him on that.
“I’ve got nothing. We haven’t found shit and it’s been what? 4 days since anyone had last seen her?”
Their hopes in finding her were dwindling quickly, its rate in decrease sped up after the three-day mark. Stark groaned and leant back in his chair, pinching the bridge of his nose tightly between his pointer finger and thumb.
“Honestly, I blame Fury for making us use phones that I can’t hack. We’d find her a lot fucking faster if I could just get into it.”
“Language,” Steve muttered before releasing a lengthy sigh. As he went to open his mouth to respond, Tony perked up, this time looking extremely more optimistic than previous.
“HOLY SHIT!” He spun his chair to face the computer on the desk and began to rapid begin typing. The others watched him with scepticism before slowly moving to crowd the billionaire.
“You wanna explain to the class, Stark?”
“You know how I never listen to Fury?” He heard a collective of hums in agreement before continuing. “Well, when I was encrypting the phones we all use, I may have purposefully left out my location cloaking software.”
“So, you’re saying you can ping her location and you failed to mention this?!” Wanda exclaimed.
“One, ouch. Don’t scream in my ear like a damn banshee, Matilda. Two, I forgot. It’s not like we actually use it.”
The team watched in anticipation as Tonys’ fingers continued to rapidly tap at the keyboard. Moments pass by with bated breaths before a small red dot appears on a map that pops up. They stare at the bright red dot in a prolonged silence before Steve straightens out with a hardened face.
“Let’s move.”
_______________
“I don’t understand. Why San Fransico?”
The statement from Sam was what each of them wanted to voice but none did. Each step through the city was following that damn pinged location. The day before it had been in Washington, the day before that was Oklahoma.
They could be tracking a ghost trail for all they knew, certainly with how quickly the location seemed to switch between states so quickly.
“F.R.I.D.A.Y. Update.”
“Location has remained the same. The Railway Museum is just one block away, sir.”
Tony rolls his shoulders before turning to look towards those who walk with him. He and Steve share a look, already knowing that this is more than likely a trap or mislead.
“Only a few of us will enter. Everyone else is going to surround the building, cover each possible exit. Buck, I want you with me, Sam and Wanda. Clint, you think you can take to a nearby building keep an eye on the roof and the main entrance?”
Clint nodded as Steve doled out orders for the group to follow. With the archers’ non-verbal confirmation, the captain continued.
“Thor, I want you to take the West side of the building with Banner. Pietro, you take East. Stark, I want you to take the back with Vision.” Everyone nods followed by them splitting off in the direction of the respective positions.
Dressed as civilians was helpful with entering the museum; they turned no heads when entering the building. The four inside had separated themselves, hoping to search the interior in record time rather than they be grouped up together.
The comms the team had donned before splitting ways crackled before Tony’s voice sounded through into each team members’ ear. “I’ve had F.R.I.D.A.Y. put the location on each of your phones, make it easier for you guys to know if you’re closing in.”
Simultaneously, Steve, Sam, Wanda and Bucky pull out their smartphones and allow the screen to open up correctly, a simple map of the interior showing a blinking red dot in the centre of the building.
The small team inside opposed to those outside slowly close in to the centre of the museum, covering all sides.
Adrenaline begins to heighten as they inch their way closer and closer. Emotions are running high and minds are swirling with possibilities and before they knew it, they surround the exhibit at the very middle of the building.
A large group being led by some guide moves on with their tour and reveals a lone person still stood there; hood up and phone in hand. Steve glances down at the phone in his own hand and sure enough, the dot hasn’t moved.
This is what they’ve been chasing.
With their head down, both Sam and Bucky who face their front can’t identify who holds the phone, Natashas’ phone.
Between the four, a look was shared and with a nod of their head in the figure’s direction, they begin to slowly close in once more. Wanda, Sam and Bucky slow to a stop, only a short distance away as Steve continues to stalk closer and with a few more steps, he’s stood behind the figure.
He reaches an arm out and clamps his hand down on their shoulder which begins to shake slightly as the person laughs quietly. The person slowly raises their head with a shit eating grin on their face and both Sam and Bucky tense, their jaws clenching, teeth grinding.
Wanda freezes up along with them as the figure slowly turns to face Steve; easily catching a glimpse herself.
“At ease, солдат,” your voice rasps. (Soldier.)
You hand moves quickly to clamp on to the blondes’ wrist and before he could react, you bring your head forward in a quick, whip-like motion, slamming it into his nose; a satisfying crunch is heard and blood already beginning to trickle out.
Twisting his arm, you land a hard kick to his ribs and send him back, him falling to the floor with quite the thud, even sliding across the floor a good foot or two. The others had quickly reacted, Sam and Bucky charging over towards you.
You alternate between the two as they dole out a choreographed offensive; punches, kicks, full body hits. The two had been going a solid minute and had done zero damage, even with Steve standing himself back up on to his feet and charging at you himself.
Wanda had dealt with the screaming and panicked public from the first sign of retaliation, giving firm orders to leave the building and to get a safe distance.
The second the first of the civilians exited the building in a rushed and yelling fashion, the team was on high alert.
“Someone talk to us,” Clint crackled through the comms, his sights down the length of the arrow he already has notched and ready to release.
“It’s Y/N.” Just that simple statement made the whole team know exactly what was currently going down. “They had Natashas’ phone. HYDRA put us on a wild goose chase.”
The grunts from Steve, Sam and Bucky brought Wanda’s head back into the fight at hand. The three were being easily overpowered by just yourself and she’s unsure how to proceed. With quick thinking, she uses her powers to push her teammates aside and away from you, the swirl of red like mist dancing around her fingers.
Your attention snaps from the three that had been thrown away from you to the little witch who stood off to the side. You roll your shoulders and smirk before stomping your way over to her aggressively.
You feel your movements slowly become restricted and it’s harder and harder to move forward. Wanda, with a struggle, brings to down to your knees before you could reach her and all you could do it look up at her with a devious smirk.
Tongue peeking out between your lips, you wet them and trail your eyes up and down the length of her body and the action makes her sick to your stomach. “Som ohromená, princezná.” (I’m impressed, princess.)
She takes step towards you, slow, precise, and what she hoped was menacing. “Where’s Natasha?” she spat between her teeth.
You chuckle darkly and shake her head, noticing how she lacked to remember to keep her distance. “You’re in no position to ask questions, little witch.” With perseverance, your left arm shoots forward, grasping her wrist much like you had done with the caps. Shocked, the moment forces Wanda to lose concertation and drops her magical hold on you.
You swipe at the opportunity and raise to your full height, towering over the Sokovian and delivering a hard right hook to the girl, knocking her unconscious the moment your fist made contact with her jaw.
Turning, you look at the trio of men who look at an unconscious Wanda by your feet with wide and worried eyes. You smirk once more as you pull Natasha’s phone from your pocket and wave it slightly before tossing it in their direction. “Keep it. I’m done with it.”
You take small steps backwards away from the four before turning tail and running, closer and closer to the back entrance.
“She’s heading to you guys at the back,” Steve rushes out, struggling to come to a stand and give chase.
“Understood, capsicle.” Tony and Vison both prepare themselves for your arrival, to burst through the doors and go into combat just like the four inside had done. But they waited and waited and waited. Nothing. “Uh, no sign of her. Anyone got eyes on the slippery bastard?” Stark reaches out to the others.
Sam and Bucky left Americas’ sweetheart and Scarlet Witch with the intentions of cheeking the inside of the building, running around the whole of the museum as the team converse.
“Nothing here.”
“Nope.”
“No clue.”
“Nada.”
“Zilch.”
The team’s response came in like clockwork and the entire team felt baffled. Where did you disappear to?
“So, she just evaporated? What the fuck? Are you sure no one has eyes on her?”
“Look,” Steve started. “As much as I want to find them and get some answers, we gotta focus on Wanda. She’s down.” He was kneeling beside her unconscious form and like a lightbulb being lit from a switch, Pietro was right beside his sister on the opposite side of Steve, absolute panic and concern shifting through his eyes.
Steve hears a sigh through the comms followed by Banners’ voice. “Let’s get back. It’s clear they’ve disappeared somehow, and we should focus on Maximoff right now.”
Steve shakes his head and moves to stand, Pietro already holding his twin in his arms. “Let’s go, team.”
_______________
“Wie ich sehe, können wir ihr Telefon nicht länger als Ablenkung für sie benutzen,” Strucker spoke as his back was turned to you, hands folded behind his back, looking at the painting hung on the wall with disinterest. (I see we can no longer use her phone as a distraction for them.)
“Sie werden sie nicht finden können, auch wenn wir sie nicht mehr auf Gänsejagd führen, Sir,” you respond, you own hands folded behind your back. Your eyes are trained on his form as he slowly turns to face you, casually rounded the desk to stand before you. (They won't be able to find her even if we no longer lead them on such wild goose chases', sir.)
“Hoffentlich nicht, Soldat. Es liegt an Ihnen, wenn sie sie finden.” His eyes look you up and down subtly, scrutinising you before turning away from you and striding over towards his desk. “Es ist jetzt zu heiß für dich, Ghost. Zu viele Leute werden dich nach deinem kleinen öffentlichen Stunt erkennen. Du sollst in der Einrichtung bleiben. Sie bewachen Romanoff und begleiten sie zum und vom Labor. Verstanden?” (They better not, soldier. It will be on your head if they are to find her.) (There's too much heat on you now, Ghost. Too many people will recognise you after your little public stunt. You are to stay within the facility. You will guard Romanoff and escort her to and from the lab. Understood?)
“Verstanden.” (Understood.)
_______________
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THIS WAS SO BAD LMAO
I just needed a filler honestly so, this will do for the time being
If you want to be added to the taglist lemme know
Anywho, I hope you enjoy
As always, constructive criticism and requests are welcomed and greatly appreciated :D
_______________
Marvel taglist:
@thanossexual​ @iwazoomingouttahere​ @xxxtwilightaxelxxx​ 
_______________
‘I Watched You Die’ taglist:
@diaryoflife @username23345 @drpepperobsessed @fayhar @d14n4ol @srtamercurio @gabbygabbie @lostandsearching @afuckingshituniverse @thea13sworld @nelouath8 @navs-bhat @pistachiomilk3 @peggycarter-steverogers @b-5by5 @trikruismybitch @anxiousgoldengirl @when-wolves-howl @whitelotus00 @anxiousgoldengirl @daniescady @unexpected-character @lgtftchan @mitch-cabello1097 @wlwfanfictionss @gottacamz​
(Those whose @ is in bold, I could not tag unfortunately.)
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