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obsessivevoidkitten · 8 months ago

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Male Harem of Bullies

Kinktober Day 9: Bullies/Gang Bang

Four Male Animal-Human Hybrid Yanderes x Feminized Male Ferret-Hybrid Reader CW: Noncon, ass eaten like it's groceries, bullying, fivesome, gang bang, double penetration, triple penetration, more double penetration, forced feminization, crossdressing, kidnapping, non-human genitalia, massive horse dick, colossal rhino cock, slimy reptilian dicks, rhino-man, horse-man, lizard-man, bull-man, male harem, oral sex, anal sex, bottom reader, general yandere behavior Word Count: 2k (Slightly different from my initial vision but much better imho, made to be expanded on with drabbles involving each man, possibly multiple drabbles with each exploring different situations.)

Baryn the Bully. A brash, arrogant, cocky, oversexed rhino hybrid jock who thought more with his dick than his brain. He was the star of the college's football team, so of course, he was extremely popular.

You were the complete opposite. A small, intelligent, and soft spoken male ferret hybrid. A total nerd. Always kept your head down, and often between the pages of a book.

While he was a bit rude to the other geeks, he reserved his worst behavior for you. Trapping you in your locker, pantsing you, making fun of you.

There wasn't any recourse. There was no way the college was going to punish their most talented football player. And you weren't made of money, you couldn't just transfer to another school.

And you didn't want to leave anyway! Why should you? You liked your classes, you had friends in your dorm, and you only lived one town away from family. You could handle a little bullying if it meant keeping all those perks. Not to mention the campus library. It was colossal. And where you spent the vast majority of your spare time.

That's where you were on the night of the big football game, in the library studying with your friend, and roommate, Nat. With the vast majority of students preparing to watch the game with their friends from their dorms or attend live, the library was nearly empty.

"I have to use the restroom, I'll be right back."

Nat made a sound of acknowledgment as he continued his studies.

On your way out of the restroom, you smacked right into Baryn. A wall of thick grey muscle. What the hell was he doing in the library at all, let alone before a big game? You flicked your tail nervously as he smirked at you wickedly. You only saw that expression on him before he bullied you in some way. You noticed he was carrying a large gym bag.

"Just who I was looking for!"

Baryn gave you no time to complain as he quickly stuffed you into the duffel bag and left. It stank heavily of the rhino's heady musk, the smell making you quite a bit dizzy. You had no idea where he was taking you. Despite your shouts and thrashing, no one stopped to help. Either they were too scared of the big rhino-man, or they recognized him and figured it was just a silly jock or frat prank.

And you had thought it was some fucked up joke too. Maybe he was going to keep you in this bag during the game or put you in a locker, but it was far worse than that.

You felt the bag being set down gently. It was opened soon after that. You immediately leapt out, claws at the ready. You scratched and bit at Baryn's tough skin. You didn't even register that he was naked. He chuckled as the most you managed to do was cause a stray trickle of blood here and there.

"Love it when ya start throwin' a hissy fit."

He smacked your ass playfully before he started removing your clothing. By then, tears were running down your face as you cried in frustration.

"F-fuck off! Give me m-my clothes!"

He sat on the sofa and pulled you into his lap. A strong hand was over your mouth, and he held you close, forcing you to lean back into his chest. He nuzzled your neck, careful not to poke you with the horn that tipped his nose.

"Just relax, darlin." You're gonna help me and the bros with a lil' pre-game tradition we have."

He took his free hand and fondled your cock and balls.

"We always have a good fuck before a big game! The gals we normally use weren't available for the job. It's super easy, y'all ain't even gotta do any work. Just be a good fleshlight for us."

At that, you thrashed and let out muffled screams, you didn't want this fucker's dick in you. Just then, the door burst open, and the other top three football players who were members of Baryn's frat barged in.

Mikael, the part horse hybrid. He was really tall but still pretty muscular. His ears and tail were the only visible horse traits, but there were rumors his dick was horse-like, too.

Alvaro, the lizard hybrid. He was a bit short but extremely strong. Eyes like a snake, with scales framing his face and covering his arms, legs, and tail.

The final one inside was Krash, at least that's what everyone called him. He was a bull man. He was as tall and muscled as Baryn, but fur covered his entire body with the exception of his face. He was also equipped with two large curved horns.

All of your bullies were assembled to make your life worse.

"Yo, you already started without us?" Inquired Alvaro.

"Nah, I was just explaining the job to our new girlfriend. About how she just has to stay still and let it happen. I hadn't gotten to the part about how we decided that she would be our girlfriend permanently, though," explained Baryn.

You were trembling. The way that they were staring at you. The way they were talking. They were insane.

Mikael leaned down and licked up your tears before chuckling.

"Aww, don't be scared. We won't hurt you, cutie. You're lucky. We all wanted to share a girlfriend for our pre-game tradition, and we all had a crush on you! Don't you feel lucky?" he said in a mocking tone.

"Course we're all bi, but kinda prefer women. More acceptable for my family, too. So we've decided that you're a lady now. And none of us gentlemen would bully a lady, so if you cooperate, we'll treat ya a lot better," the rhino cooed into your ear while rubbing your thighs.

"N-no! Just let me go! You aren't treating me b-better, j-just trading one torture for a-a-another!!" You began sobbing and shaking inconsolably.

Not to worry though, you're four new boyfriends knew just how to cheer up their little lady friend. You were clearly just moody and upset by a lack of proper attention. You obviously needed their seed in your belly.

Krash wordlessly kneeled between your legs and held your legs still with his strong hands. He used his broad tongue to apply thick drool to your hole, slipping it into you and massaging it as well as he could. You had to be as stretched, lubed, and relaxed as possible if you were going to take all of them.

You twitched and shuddered as the unwelcome intrusion made your cock stand up.

"Pl-please sto-," you whined pitifully before being cut off by Mikael.

"Stop? You clearly like it!" He leaned over Krash and rubbed a finger up and down your cock to tease you.

Baryn bit and sucked on your neck before you could reply, causing your mind to go a bit blank with how good it felt in conjunction with Krash's sloppy tongue tending to your ass.

"I think that means she's ready," someone chuckled. You couldn't tell who, though. Your brain was soup. It must have been Baryn because he was the first to slip his cock into you once Krash stopped licking.

It must have been more rhino like than human because the ridges and folds made you drool when you felt them slowly move back and forth against your inner walls. While Baryn continued fucking into you slowly Krash decided to suck on your leaking dick.

"Damn, she really does like it," Alvaro mused as you bucked instinctively into Krash's warm, inviting mouth.

You moaned as you came and then relaxed quite a bit. Since you were so well stretched and much more compliant now, Krash got up and positioned himself in front of you and slipped his dick in beside Baryn's. The stretch was uncomfortable but not painful. They were careful to go at a slow pace that their previously virgin girlfriend could handle.

Krash didn't last too terribly long. He had forgotten to jerk off several times so that he could last a long time like the others had told him to. With a grunt, he emptied his large furry nuts into you, then pulled out and let Alvaro take his place.

Alvaro, being reptilian, had two hard cocks ready to sink into you. And he did so eagerly. Both of them were slimy and tapered and had no issue fitting into you, especially with Krash's cum having lubed you up so well. He went at a faster pace than Krash had or Baryn was.

Luckily, you were ready by that point. Baryn matches his pace since you were taking them so well. Both men whispered praises into your ear since you were taking them all just so perfectly. Alvaro claimed your mouth with his and snaked his long tongue into your mouth.

Your whole body shuddered around their dicks as you came again, this time from their cocks battering a special spot inside of you.

"So sex hungry, this one. Can't wait for my turn."

Mikael didn't have a long wait. Baryn and Alvaro finally unloaded into you simultaneously, a vast torrent of cum that started to bulge out your belly.

"Fuck, you're the best hole I've ever had!"

Alvaro pulled out after making sure he finished loading you with his semen.

"Yeah, darlin' we're gonna have to do this a lot."

With a loud squelch, Baryn lifted you up and swapped places with Mikael, who quickly settled you on his dick. The flared tip went in easily with how "well-loved" your hole was from your other three boyfriends. He had you facing him so he could kiss your fucked out face.

Your stare was blank, your face flushed, and the only sounds you could make was feeble mewling as hid large equine prick made an outline in your belly. He pressed your face into his armpit so that you could get a nose full of his pheromone laden musk. He needed you to reek of him.

After that, the horse hybrid bit at your neck, all while he pounded into you tirelessly. When he eventually came, it made your belly bulge further. When he pulled out an incredible amount of cum dribbled down his cock and onto his balls.

You were tired but remained conscious, your brain struggling to comprehend the violation that just occurred. Your body was limp. At least it made you easy to clean up.

"Girls just need dick to calm them down, I guess," mumbled Arvalo.

"Well, I reckon we know what to do when she gets bratty," Baryn replied.

They took you gently and cleaned you up in the tub, all of them praising you for doing so well. Once they had you clean, they dressed up in a cheerleader outfit. It was the cutest thing they had ever seen. It had been a wise decision to bribe your roommate Nat to get your measurements for them while you slept. You were embarrassed but didn't complain. You knew it wouldn't do any good. The will to fight had been thoroughly fucked out of you.

They each scented you and your clothing to make sure their combined smell clung to you. No one would dare touch their precious nerdy girlfriend.

When it was time for the game, they had you sit beside the benched players, right between some players they trusted. You looked down awkwardly the majority of the time with your tail curled closely around you. They won that game by a wider margin than they had won any game before! They chalked it up to their newly enhanced tradition of bedding you combined with your presence at the game.

It was certainly something they'd have to do every single time!

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swordgrace · 10 months ago

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𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐋 𝐌𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐒 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐋 𝐎𝐍 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒’ 𝐋𝐈𝐏𝐒.

⠀ཾ༵ 𑁍┆ jacaerys velaryon x female betrothed reader.

SYNOPSIS: jacaerys is reminded of his betrothed’s unwavering loyalty, and her affections. he is more than desperate to indulge.

note: jacaerys is nineteen, reader is eighteen.

format: one-shot — not requested.

word count: 5.8K.

warnings: SMUTTY SMUT (mdni), porn with little plot, risk of getting caught (dragonstone library), talk of insecurities, jacaerys is needy and sweet in this, oral sex (fem!rec), cunnilingus, handjob, lots of jace moans in this fic, brief dry humping, wet/rain jacaerys, table sex, making out, hair-pulling kink, unprotected sex, p in v sex, jace & reader have only been with one another, soft ending + aftercare

author’s note: I know that this isn’t What Honor Demands (please don’t be mad) but I did want to put a sprinkle of Jace content out there for you all! please be kind to one another, and thank you for reading & supporting my work! I love you all dearly! :))

𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐭 𝐬𝐨 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐬, 𝐰𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐥𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐛𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐧. 𝐓𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐡𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐬, 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐝𝐮𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐥𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐬 𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐞, 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐝𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐭.

Dragonstone’s hallowed hallways and winding corridors were scattered with the occasional Kingsguard, watchful gaze hovering about as you went on your way. Sleep eluded you, reclusive as ever, leaving you with nothing but a mind full of ceaseless thoughts.

Groggy footfalls fell across ancient stone as you carried yourself toward the library within the labyrinth of Dragonstone, in-search of your betrothed.

Pensive and frustrated as of-late, Jacaerys spent much of his evenings surrounded by endless piles of literature to preoccupy his mind, or nights spent on the back of Vermax beneath the open air. You did not begrudge him of his desire for space, but you sorely missed his presence — your bed felt exceedingly empty.

A silent yawn wrought your lips as you slipped between massive slabs of dark wood, the groaning of the doors reverberating throughout the cavernous alcove. Thunder shook the skies around Dragonstone, and with it, a torrent of rainfall that smacked against the dark stone surrounding the island.

It was there in the library that you saw Jacaerys, tousled curls slicked by the deluge, framing his face in such a princely manner that it stole your breath away. Your humble beginnings as a mere young maiden sworn to wed the heir to the Iron Throne had blossomed, flourishing into a loving relationship between yourself and the Prince.

All men that you had glanced upon paled in comparison to Jacaerys Velaryon, whose features were framed in such a regal light. The illumination of the hearth set his flesh ablaze with a burnished gold, brows creased in concentration as he leaned over a thick, dilapidated volume.

Prying his gaze away from dust-laden parchment, his eyes found you, his betrothed, captivating in your silken slip and woolen robe. His throat bobbed as he swallowed the sudden onslaught of nerves in your presence, an involuntary yet consistent response.

You treated him to a kindly smile, warm enough to soothe his shivering bones, doublet soaked from riding in the deluge. Part of him was stung with guilt for abandoning you each night to sulk in sullen silence, but he did not want to burden you with his feelings of inferiority.

Amber hues seemed transfixed upon you, taking in your ethereal sight, silks the color of Lady’s Lace, robe embossed with cerulean stitching. Your tresses were somewhat disheveled from rest, disagreeing with the pillows.

Abandoning his mindless studies, he sat straighter, shoulders squared as if to fill in the fullness of his height. You approached, aura gentle and thoughtful, as if you could pinpoint the source of his misfortune. “Is everything alright?” Jacaerys inquired, perplexed as to why you were out of bed so dreadfully late.

“It is,” A dismal yawn slipped through your teeth as you came to stand near him, circling around the stone table, noticeably lower in stature. “I fear that the raging weather has left me unable to find sleep.” You were from a place where such furious storms were uncommon.

As if he were to blame for this happenstance, Jacaerys appeared apologetic, fingers clenching together. “You have my apologies, my Lady. I hadn’t expected this deluge to carry on this late into the night.” With a begrudging sigh, he peered toward the stained glass windows littered throughout the library.

An amiable burst of laughter tore forth from your lips, head canting to one side as you rounded the table, gaze picking apart the various texts and heaps of parchment that lined the stone. “You’ve nothing to apologize for, Jacaerys. It seems you’ve taken advantage of the opportunity.” You gestured to his state of dishevel.

“Like yourself, sleep evaded me. I needed to find some reprieve; a thunderstorm seemed better than nothing.” His reply seemed strained with underlying frustration, as if the chord would snap within him at any given moment.

Your velveteen digits graced his shoulder, caressing circles into the muscle there, even if it were concealed by the thick wool of his doublet. Even if he did not speak it into existence, your comforting embrace brought him a semblance of warmth that little else could provide.

Drowning himself in reading now seemed incomprehensible, paling in comparison to the mere grace of your presence. “You seem very hard at work,” You chimed, lowering yourself into the high-backed chair to his left. “The subject of your studies?”

Jacaerys didn’t smile, yet the tension in his shoulders began to unfurl, as if your very presence willed him to do so. Nimble digits flipped through a page or two, the parchment worn and thin from many decades of dormancy and little use. “Targaryen bloodlines.”

There was some discomforting twinge within his tone, as if the very notion brought about complex feelings. It was his idea to invite Dragonseeds into their home, yet he hadn’t fully realized what harm it had caused to his claim. This vexation had developed into a thorn in his side, tearing open a wound that he thought he’d healed from.

He had dealt with the uncomfortable truth of his bastard heritage all his life — and now, he was made to confront it, see it in its unpleasantness. Even the unconditional love of his mother could not shield him from the vile insults, from the crass tongues of those who saw him for what he was — the bastard.

Your countenance wavered, empathy sinking into your gaze, brows softening as you folded your hands within your lap. Jacaerys had never fully confided in you the plain truth of his bloodline, but you had an inkling of his heritage — that hadn’t changed how you felt.

Wordlessly, you reached for his hand, and it was Jacaerys that brought your interwoven fingers to rest atop your knee. He did not need to vocalize it — he knew that you knew. Part of him was grateful that you never questioned it, or him.

“Understand that I will fight with you — fight for you. No amount of blood or worthiness shall change that.” You assured, collected and tender as you traced your thumb across his knuckles. They were disarmingly soft, pad of your finger brushing over the veins in his hand.

Jacaerys exhaled, sinking backward into the bite of the wooden chair, dark brows furrowing together. “It seems as if you are the only one that will.” His confession was a heavy-handed one, filled with an immeasurable melancholy that you wished you could rip away.

It was all that consumed him as of-late — his claim to the Iron Throne, the lack of reassurance from his mother, who seemed to drown herself in prophecy and history instead of his defense. Jacaerys felt as if he were adrift, alone in the black sea, threatened to be pulled beneath the tempestuous tides.

The touch of your hand was what kept him anchored, still bound to this reality, to the inevitability of war. Soon, he would face the Greens in the battlefield — and what then, if the war was won? His mother would sit the Iron Throne, and who would succeed her?

His half-brothers had all the hallmarks of a true Targaryen — violet irises, pale tresses, dragon eggs placed in their cradles. Who would follow him? Plain-featured, dark hair, amber-flecked hues that bore a striking resemblance to the former Commander of the City Watch.

With a sullen heart, Jacaerys glanced at you, his beloved, your countenance bathed in the waning glow of the firelight. An ardent fondness reached your stare, keeping his hand rooted against your knee. He idly plucked at the ivory silk of your shift, chest blossoming with a trembling exhale.

“You must forgive me for my absence as of-late,” Jacaerys felt as if he owed you an apology. For nearly a fortnight, he had kept you at arm’s length, for fear that he would tarnish your bond with his intrepid mind and distressed musings. “I haven’t intended to distance myself from you.”

“Jacaerys,” With a gentle hum, you brought your other palm beneath his, cradling his hand between your own, his flesh icy compared to your magnetizing warmth. “I know what burden you bear, and I know how distraught you’ve been. I cannot fault you for wanting space.” Even then, he felt as if that wouldn’t suffice.

“My misfortune is not an excuse to leave my betrothed unattended,” Resolute, he looked at you with such arduous devotion, one reserved only for a paramour. “Whatever burden I bear, I wish to endure it by your side, or not at all.” Whatever he did to deserve you, he was quite uncertain.

Betrothals were not easy to navigate — when he first found himself speaking to you, he feared the crushing weight of disappointment or a loveless match, something only formed from duty. He was pleasantly surprised by your willingness to discover the soul that rested beneath titles and propriety.

Another smile crossed your features, and it stayed this time, his heart galloping within his chest at your resplendent beauty.

There was a kindness that touched your gaze, one that he was unaccustomed to. He was often looked upon by strangers with indifference or contempt, and those who questioned his bloodline only glowered with vitriol and a thinly-veiled bitterness.

“Allow me to share in your sorrows with you,” At your insistence, Jacaerys did not make any attempt to protest the subject of your words — he knew that you wouldn’t allow it. “Whatever obstacles come hurling your way, know that we can brave it together, not apart.”

A lighter sentiment touched his features, then. He was no longer marred by frustration and helplessness, but newfound confidence. It was subtle, but you could see it reach his eyes, amber hues that danced with such an intense affection for you.

“As long as you permit me to assist in whatever tribulations you might face yourself,” It wouldn’t have been justified to make you wade through his obstacles without fighting your own hand-in-hand. “You are my betrothed. I should hope you will always rely upon me.” With a reassuring squeeze, you smiled at him.

“Rely upon one another, and let out hearts beat as one,” A tenderness gripped the tone of your resonance, as silky as the very gown you wore. “Until our last days or the end of our story.” The finality of your words filled him with an indescribable sense of optimism and hope.

Jacaerys adjusted his hand, but only to lift yours to his lips, gracing your velvet knuckles with his plush lips, eyelashes fluttering in your direction. Youthful eagerness and crackling ardor took over — he stared at you with a renewed compassion.

The sight of you in your evening slip made his heart pound against his ribcage, as if it had dropped right into his stomach. Sometimes he behaved as if he hadn’t touched you before — as if this were the first time all over again. “You continue to bewitch me,” Jacaerys murmured, canting his head to one side. “I love you for it.”

A smattering of heat blossomed across your features, the familiar warmth crawling down the length of your spine, resulting in a subtle shiver. “I wasn’t aware,” You mused, a certain flair within your voice that subtly invoked more than just romanticism and sweet words. “Is that a constant feeling?”

Swallowing the lump of boyish nerves that gathered within his throat, Jacaerys regarded you with a rather incendiary warmth, his gaze that of an unrestrained lover. “It is rather persistent,” Excitement began to stir within the pit of his stomach. “Especially now.”

Seven Hells, you deserved to be put to the lash for the lascivious thoughts you had.

It was as if the atmosphere had shifted entirely, from one of two youths navigating their troubles, to the first inklings of shared desire and appreciation. You hadn’t expected the suddenness of this shift, but you welcomed it regardless, belly stirring with butterflies.

Digits tightened into your silken skirts, in a valiant attempt to relieve some of the anticipation you were experiencing. Your intimate relationship with Jacaerys had always been in the sanctity of your bedchambers — achingly sweet and exploratory, but now, it had some element of thrill to it, especially if you opted to act.

Admittedly, the sight of him disheveled and dampened from the raging deluge had roused a familiar fire within your loins, producing a hint of slick between your thighs. Acting on impulse here, in the library of all places, broke all bonds of propriety — but neither of you paid it any mind.

Leaning forward within his seat, Jacaerys wordlessly beseeched you for a kiss, soft mouth inviting as ever, lips flushed and rosy. Without hesitation, you moved to meet him halfway, lost within the throes of your gentle entanglement. He was always gentle — that would never change, no matter his demeanor.

With all the tenderness of a gallant lover, Jacaerys ensured that he savored your kiss, eyelids fluttering shut as he reached to smooth his palm across your thigh. He shivered at the sensation, able to feel the outline of your pliant curves through the obscenely-thin silks.

He smelled of damp petrichor and old books, laden with dust, as if he’d spent all of his days rotting away within the depths of rain-soaked parchment. Your conjoined hands wove together, and you guided him until both of his palms planted themselves atop your thighs, sinking into their plushness.

Once the fire was stoked, it was difficult to smother it.

“Here?” Your shrewd voice interrupted his string of salacious fantasies, none of them pious enough to confess to. Jacaerys felt embarrassed for what he thought, for what he intended to do — perhaps he would seek absolution on the morrow.

“It is an ungodly hour,” Jacaerys reassured you, but in your defense, part of him feared the potentiality of being caught. “I don’t suspect anyone would come searching.” His suggestion was open-ended, but he did offer you an out, soothingly caressing along your legs. “Would you prefer if we retired to our chambers?”

Some sharp pang of exhilaration stoked the fire within your belly — coupling here filled you with the unfamiliar thrill of trying something daring. Instead of answering verbally, you resorted to action, rising from your rickety chair to toss one leg over his hips, sinking yourself down into the firmness of his lap.

Jacaerys’s expression was one of complete and utter bewilderment, but of the best sort — he was ensnared, simply put. A scarlet flush rose to his features, painting his visage with a bright-red shade. His breath audibly hitched within his throat, palms settling against the swell of your hips.

“It is the hour of the bat,” You agreed, heart hammering erratically beneath your breast, until you could bear it no longer. “Let that be our shield.” Once the words had escaped you in a breathy exhale, Jacaerys captured your mouth in an explosive kiss.

His passion would never be mistaken for roughness — your betrothed was as kindly and spirited as they came; you collapsed beneath his tender hand. Those dexterous fingers of his kneaded into your waist, traveling along your curves, longing to feel your naked flesh without obstruction.

A low groan blossomed within his chest when your digits flew to the nape of his neck, threading themselves into his soaked tresses. He was painfully handsome like this, damp from the rain, gaze full of ardor and silently pleading for your touch, hands wandering anywhere and everywhere.

Gathering your skirts as politely as he could, Jacaerys inched the fabric up along your legs, shivering in delight at the sight of your exposed skin. One would think he’d never glimpsed a woman before, the way he reacted whenever he saw you.

The soft pads of his fingertips glided along your bare thigh, allowing the silk of your shift to gather around your hips. His growing erection helplessly strained at the front of his breeches, and the desperate ache was only furthered when you ground yourself into him.

A gasp was shared between you both, skin becoming unbearably warm as you rocked your hips into him, finding your unholy friction. It only became increasingly heated, knowing that you wore nothing beneath your nightgown, and Jacaerys let out a wanton groan when you moved against him.

“Jacaerys,” Breathless and drunk upon desire, you felt his mouth seek yours again, coaxing you in for another kiss. There was desperation laced within his actions, finding his solace in the endless map of your lips, committing every detail to memory. “Touch me.”

Bringing his palm to your chest, Jacaerys needed no instruction when it came to caressing your breast, thumb rolling over your peaking nipple through thin silk. You were the first girl he’d laid with — if the Gods were kind, you would be the last.

Unexpectedly, your satiny lips found the column of his throat, pressing a string of appreciative kisses there as he kneaded your chest. A sweet, keening groan escaped him, abashed at your embrace. Between the ministrations of your fingers in his tresses and mouth on his neck, he feared oblivion.

A sharp clap of thunder shook the skies, yet it did not perturb either of you, ceaselessly carrying on in your needy coupling. One of your palms drifted to his chest, gripping at the embroidered velvet, pushing his collar aside to kiss his neck.

His digits tightened at the material bunched around your hips, eyes fluttering shut in a state of bliss, toying with your nipple as it pebbled beneath his touch. Jacaerys’s mouth watered involuntarily at the thought of tasting you, which he hoped would come soon, if you permitted him to do so.

You enjoyed his softness, his throat quivering beneath your lips, offering his subservience to you freely. A breathy grunt of your name cascaded from his mouth, prompting you to shiver within his embrace. Gods, that sound — it would be emblazoned in your mind for days to come.

With a gentle shrug of your shoulders, you let the woolen robe glide from your body, pooling on the cool stone below. Another downward brush of your hips sent the both of you reeling, clothed bulge grinding against your needy core, prompting you to shudder.

Jacaerys turned, bringing his soft lips back to yours, seizing your mouth in a blazing kiss. He continued to palm at your breast, cupping the pliant mound within his hand, evoking another whimper from you. Neediness took root, firmly planting itself within his stomach.

“Might I taste you?” He breathed against your lips, giving you pause as you regarded him with a simmering adoration. Jacaerys had done it once before, and he often thought of it in private moments, or sometimes recklessly at supper or during small council meetings.

Sheepishly, your head bobbed up and down in a lackadaisical nod, unable to mask your excitement at such a proposal. Wordlessly, he coaxed you up from his lap, nearly groaning at the loss of friction, though he suspected there would be ample opportunities for more later that night.

Using the table as a brace, you watched as your betrothed knelt before you, like a sinner coming to confess within the boughs of a sept; his confession whispered between your legs. Your woolen robe served as a suitable cushion beneath his knees, and he happened to unclasp his own cloak.

Peering at you through thick eyelashes, Jacaerys gingerly guided the silken slip up along your legs, watching with rapturous interest as you let it gather at your hips. He kissed his way up the length of your leg, letting them drape on either side of his shoulders.

Your hand came to rest against his crown of dampened curls, a shudder rolling down his spine at the sensation of your fingers gripping his tresses. Inhaling a gust of your saccharine scent, Jacaerys kissed his way to the gathering slick between your thighs, palms smoothing themselves against your legs.

A heat so feverish that it nearly destroyed you, his tongue raked hot embers over your cunt, tracing along the length of your slit before dipping between your folds. A gasp tore past your mouth; ecstasy beyond comprehension, gnawing away at your bones.

Jacaerys dutifully lapped at your core, nose brushing against your mound, tongue dancing from the pearl of your cunt to your entrance, his movements repetitive. A sigh of delight floated into the air, your pleasure made known as you lightly tugged on his tresses.

Soft, pleading moans reverberated throughout the library, and you were lost within the labyrinth of his affections. Your hips involuntarily jerked and jolted forward, rocking down into his mouth, evoking a throaty groan from your betrothed.

His name floated from your mouth like a prayer, reverent and gasping, as if it were the only word you knew. Your mind was foggy with the haze of desire, one that you found yourself caught within. A string of crass sounds emanated from below; soft, needy lips hungrily kissing along your cunt.

Steeped within your slit, the taste of you ambrosial, Jacaerys continued his ministrations, tongue flicking along your core, making a sluggish ascent toward your clit. Soft palms caressed your thighs, thumbs drawing patterns into your satiny flesh.

Even the finest of stouts could not contest your sweetness, arousal thick upon his tongue, like the nectar of an unfurling flower. Jacaerys’s mouth lapped along your cunt, until he found the clutch of nerves at the hood of your slit.

His eagerness was palpable through each flick of his tongue, lost within the oasis between your legs. A myriad of soft whimpers and whines escaped you, hand gingerly tugging on Jace’s hair as he showered your cunt in an alternation of steady licks to lingering ones.

Deliberately, he stoked the fire churning within your belly, teasing your pearl with feather-light kisses and circles of his tongue. A strained moan escaped you, prompting you to fist at his tresses, burying your digits within rain-slicked curls, involuntarily bringing him closer into the warm apex of your thighs.

Bathed in the sienna embers that crackled from the hearth, Jace appeared more handsome than ever, completely and utterly captivating. If it were up to him, he would’ve been content to stay here forever, pleasure you over and over again until you collapsed.

The short, dizzying gasp that tore past your mouth spurred him on, as he pressed another string of kisses against your slit. The continued sensation of your digits carding through his curls made him sigh with elation.

Again, he traveled to your pearl again, gently suckling upon the bundle of fiery nerves. Your poor thighs rattled on either side of his head, twitching with throes of ecstasy as he toyed with your clit.

“Jace,” Seven Hells, you sounded so divine. Through parted lips and wanton moans, you sighed his name, wanting him to continue exactly as he was. He could feel the pleading resonance within your sweet tone, bringing him to heel. “Gods, don’t stop!”

Jacaerys felt another groan stir within his chest, one that seemed caught within the bottom of his throat. He allowed himself a brief respite to catch his breath, peering at you from between your legs. “There?” He’d asked, watching your head ecstatically bob up and down.

A short, sporadic huff left you, followed by a string of incoherent pleas. “Y—Yes!” Your whine was somewhat shy, the vibrato of it quieting down, as if you suddenly feared becoming caught in the act. “Jacaerys, please!” You begged, and who was he to deny you?

Pursing his lips around your pearl, he gingerly suckled on the sensitive bud, drawing forth an unholy myriad of moans and whines from your mouth. Such sounds left their brand upon him, a shiver cascading down his spine as he pleasured you.

The incessant throbbing of his cock within his breeches made his yearning grow tenfold, feeling it strain against the woolen cloth. He continued to suck at your clit with a palpable gentleness, noticing the way in which your body quivered and writhed from pleasure.

Jacaerys alternated between the greedy suckling of your pearl and broad laps of his tongue, lulled into submission by the crescendo of your moans. You brazenly tugged at his damp curls, other hand snug against the wet fabric of his doublet.

Bliss and pleasure wracked themselves across your body, bringing with it a fire so great that it demanded to be extinguished. Jacaerys’s mouth was wonderful in every way imaginable, his pouty lips dancing wherever they pleased across your aching cunt.

Your hand skirted backwards, accidentally knocking over a stack of books, rolls of parchment fluttering to the stone floor below. With a needy desire to chase after your release, you rocked your hips forward, evoking a strangled groan from your betrothed.

He could feel the arousal mounting within his own body, and the constant quivering of your legs as he brought you closer to your release. Jacaerys continued to caress along your legs, from thigh to calf, mouth happily buried within the warm apex between your legs.

That sensation of your digits brushing across his scalp made him shiver, tongue delicately flicking from your entrance to swollen pearl before he began to suck on it again. Such noises would make a septa flush from their crassness, causing his belly to swirl with fire.

“Jace — Oh! Jace, Jace!” Abandoning the use of his true name, you sang his moniker to the high Heavens, feeling your release come swiftly, an incendiary wave of heat that threatened to consume you completely. You moaned, hips stuttering as you let bliss take over you.

Jacaerys caught the onslaught of your nectar, consuming every drop that you gave him with a neediness, cock twitching within his trousers. He cleaned you up with soft, short laps of his tongue, feeling you everywhere — burned into his mind, permeating his lips.

With a shaky exhale, you felt his head leave your legs, and your grip fell away, watching as he stood to find his place against you. “Such sweet torment,” Jacaerys murmured, nudging his forehead against yours. “You bring me to ruin.” He sighed, feeling your fingers move to the front of his doublet.

“I should be the one saying that,” Your laughter was brief and fleeting, a smitten smile tugging at either corner of your mouth. “Gods, you are so wonderful — so handsome, so perfect.” The sound of your resplendent praise made Jacaerys flush, wide-eyed and wanton.

His newfound closeness, standing in between your legs, allowed for your palms to cup his face, thumbs stroking along his cheekbones. “I need you,” Jacaerys confessed, his timbre husky, throaty with desire as he nearly pleaded with you. “If you’ll let me — please.”

Wordlessly, your hands flew to the front of his breeches, brushing against his clothed erection. Jacaerys groaned, countenance one of desperation as you untied the laces, freeing his cock from its confines.

You stroked along his length, causing him to shiver, cock warm and aching within your delicate grasp. Jace buried his face near your shoulder, brows furrowing together as you treated him to the soft embrace of your hand.

Dragging your palm along his cock, his hips involuntarily rocked forward, galloping after the friction. You felt his mouth plant strings of hasty kisses all along your shoulder, toward the dip of your neck, and then against your throat.

Gently guiding yourself backwards, various objects clattered against the stone table, a book being pushed off of the edge as Jacaerys moved forward. The tip of his flushed cock glided through your slick folds, prompting the both of you to sigh together.

“May I?” Jacaerys huffed, wide-eyed and completely and utterly flustered, so trapped within his own desire that it nearly rendered him speechless. With a quick bob of your head, he rocked forward, groaning in delight as your tight cunt throbbed around his aching member.

Using one palm to brace yourself against the table, your other arm flew to drape around his neck, mouths breathlessly clamoring together, seeking one another. You kissed him, doing little to mask your rapturous hunger as he sank forward, cock nearly kissing your womb.

A tempestuous clap of thunder made you jump, goosebumps cascading down your spine as an onslaught of rain ripped against the stone surrounding the library. The sight of his disheveled tresses and unbuttoned tunic made you unbearably hot, lips torn apart as soft, pleading whines escaped you.

One arm caged itself around you, his palm stroking at the curve near your ribcage, the other lifting your leg to hitch it around his hips. Jacaerys had not an ounce of desire to become rough with you — invigorated, perhaps, but he fully intended on savoring you.

His initial thrusts were somewhat sporadic and awkward, the follies of inexperienced youth, but he soon found his pace, cock gently gliding in and out of your cunt. Wanton sighs escaped his plump lips, brows creased in concentration as his head neared yours.

A soft groan resonated beside your ear as Jace adopted a sluggish rhythm, not wanting to intensify things too quickly. Your eyes fluttered shut, body content to bend to his thrusts, grow accustomed to his pace. He reciprocated your kiss, black curls falling in front of his temples.

There was something endearing about his slight clumsiness, the way in which his hand occasionally fumbled around your body. With time, he suspected that he would know you quite well — physique included. His digits kneaded into your leg, tracing from knee to haunch, holding you close.

The intermingled sounds of your desperate lovemaking soon floated into the air, a myriad of moans and sharp exhales; sighs of a deeply devoted passion. Your fingers raked across the nape of his neck, finding their purchase within his tousled curls.

He groaned your name, the sound only a lover could make, his eyes fluttering shut for a brief moment. Gods, he wouldn’t last long like this. Jacaerys felt your knee squeeze his waist, your other leg draped off of the table, legs spread apart for him.

The silk of your nightgown pushed toward your stomach, loins exposed to the brush of cooler air. “Jace,” You moaned, pressing a string of quick, rushed kisses all along his jaw, evoking another groan from between his lips. Your cunt clenched around his cock, drowning in the pleasure. “Jace!”

His pace was leisurely, yet twinged with desperation, as if he were burning with a longing to be close to you. His cock pulsed inside of you, throat blossoming with another throaty groan. Before you could whimper, he involuntarily smothered it with a kiss.

Each rock of his hips was intended to be disarmingly gentle, ensuring that every inch of his length bottomed out inside of you. Your stomach swirled with molten heat, coagulating as slick arousal as you felt it collect between your legs.

Every worry that had permeated his careworn mind was pushed to the recesses, something to be abandoned in the wake of your presence. His need for you, his love — it outweighed everything else. Whenever you kissed him, he could feel your ardor seep into his bones, consuming him to his very core.

Jacaerys’s breath became labored, another groan threatening to burst from his chest as his cock throbbed with an incessant pleasure. His muscles tightened, feeling your other leg move up to wrap around his hips altogether, drawing him into the warmth of your embrace.

Your arm lowered, and your back finally flattered entirely against the stone table, amidst parchment and tomes, dust-laden volumes that framed your head. The lick of firelight bathed you in an ethereal glow, stealing away Jace’s resolve.

He rocked into you, thrusts becoming a touch quicker in-spite of his encroaching release. Jacaerys covered you with his body, dark curls framing his countenance; a curtain of concentration. He moved to grab your hands, fingers twining together as he kissed you.

Gods, you were perfect — it was all he could think about, your grace and poise, your captivating beauty as he thrust his cock in and out of you, visage rosy and flushed. With another rock of his hips, length buried deep within you like a sword within a sheath, he shuddered.

His release felt overwhelming, a hot tidal wave that caused the tension in his stomach to unfurl completely. Hot ropes of his spend found its place within your womb, causing you to groan. Jacaerys rocked forward, gentle as could be, filling you with his seed.

With his composure in dire need of repair, he took a moment to catch his breath, lips curling into a smile. He could not mask his happiness in the wake of your tryst, moving off of you with a brief exhale.

“Are you alright?” Jacaerys’s warm timbre blanketed you immediately, and he went about correcting his trousers before attending to you. He adjusted your slip, assisting you in tugging it back into place until you seemed somewhat less disheveled.

“Of course,” Your own smile was demure, sheepish as you smoothed your palms across your silken sleeves. “And you?” With a gentle hum, you stepped forward to fasten the many silvery clasps of his doublet, noticing the flush of scarlet that had settled into his cheeks.

“Perfect,” Through thick eyelashes, Jacaerys gazed down at you with such adoration that you could drown in it. He held your waist, thumb drawing circles into your ribcage. “I wanted to thank you for ensuring my wellbeing. It is I that should be attending to you.”

With a brief shake of your head, you brought your palms to his chest, brows knitting together. “We are betrothed, Jacaerys. We can attend to one another,” You insisted, leaning up upon your toes to plant a kiss against his jaw. “We will do plenty of that once we are wed.”

Jacaerys’s countenance softened, and his muscles still burned from the exhilaration of your coupling. He looked toward the state of the table — parchment on the floor, scrolls scattered everywhere. “I love you.” He said through a thin smile, gracing the crown of your head with a kiss.

“I love you,” You assured, following the line of his gaze towards the disarrayed table. “Though, we should clean all of this up. What will Maester Gerardys say if he finds the library in this state?” You mused, a twinkling of mirth settling within your gaze.

“We could say that we were hard at work,” Jacaerys crooned, playful as could be as he retrieved your robe, bringing it over your shoulders before he scooped you up within his arms. “Studying.”

“Oh,” A gasp of surprise left you, but joy and happiness were soon to follow as he held you, forehead pressing against yours. “Are you saying that we should study more often?” You mumbled, and that caused Jacaerys to blush again, features unbelievably heated.

“At your earliest convenience.”

#house of the dragon #hotd x reader #jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys velaryon x you #jacaerys velaryon x y/n #jacaerys x reader #jacaerys velaryon #house of the dragon fanfiction #hotd fanfic #hotd smut #game of thrones x reader #house of the dragon smut #jacaerys x you

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hannibals-favourite-meal · 1 year ago

Text

.⋆｡What I Cannot Give You｡⋆.

Steve Rogers x plus size reader

After sleeping with your boyfriend for the second time, you find out that he’s never cum with you- but his ex says that he always did with her

Warnings: smut, angst, insecurities, feelings of inadequacy, misunderstanding, inability to finish (on Steve’s end), ooc!Sharon, mentions of diets, comfort

WC: 2.3k

Minors DNI

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

“Alright, what’s going on?” Numbly, you looked up from your cold cup of tea to meet the piercing green eyes of your best friend. Natasha was almost glaring at you as she stood with her hands on her slim hips, quite obviously having been watching you for some time.

You swallowed thickly. “Nothing, nothing’s wrong.” Her scowl deepened.

“That’s not what I asked now was it?” Your stomach flipped and you squeezed the teacup even tighter. “But now that you’ve said that, what’s wrong? And don’t you dare lie to me, I’ll know.”

You should’ve known that Nat would spot your unease from a mile away, you should’ve just stayed in your room. But the need for food and a distraction from your thoughts had been too great of a temptation. Your vision blurred with tears as you pitifully shook your head.

Suddenly, all the exasperation was gone from her expression and she was kneeling before you, one hand on your knee, the other on the arm of the couch. “Hey, hey don’t cry.” You whimpered loudly, now unable to stop the onslaught of emotions.

“It- it’s fine. Everything’s fine.” With a free hand, you furiously wiped away the fat tears that were now rolling down your full cheeks. Natasha sighed heavily and pulled the cup from you, placing it on the coffee table behind her.

“Was it that commercial about the cat and the raccoon again?” She teased though her tone still held some strain of wariness.

“No.” You groaned tearfully, making Nat smile warmly at you.

“Then it can’t be so bad can it?” Moving gracefully, she plopped down on the couch cushion next to you, taking your shaking hands into her steady ones. “Did something happen with Steve?” The watery look you gave her in return was all the answer she needed.

“Stevie!” You cried, your head tossed back in pleasure. It was overwhelming, overpowering, it was everything. The man above you groaned as you tightened around him once more, practically strangling his cock with the force of your orgasm.

Your nails scraped down his muscular back, leaving behind bright red lines that would disappear before dawn even broke the horizon. “Feels so good!” Your sobs echoed through the room along with the wet slapping of skin as his hips met yours.

Blonde hair brushed against your nose as Steve buried his face into your neck, lathering your burning skin with even hotter kisses. “That’s it doll, one more time for me please.” And as the fat head of his cock hit that spongy bundle of nerves inside you, you obliged him. Though less powerful than your previous three, your soft body still tensed with ecstasy and your mind went hazy.

“Good girl, my good girl.” Steve muttered softly, laying one last gentle peck to your shoulder before he pulled himself away from you. “Did you have a good time?”

You rolled your eyes with a smile. “I can’t feel anything below my hips, does that answer your question?” He chuckled and kissed the tip of your nose.

“Alright, no need to be smart about it.” As gently as he could manage, Steve sat back on his haunches and slowly pulled out of you. You whined at the sudden emptiness of your cunt and the soreness that came along from having his massively thick length inside of you.

But there was no other sensation after that, no telltale feeling of cum inside of you or drying on your thick thighs. Furrowing your eyebrows, you looked at your boyfriend. “Did you finish?” The question came out more shaky than you intended but Steve seemingly didn’t notice.

“No but you did and that’s all that matters.” He dismissed as he stood up from the mattress. You sat up on your elbows, not done with the conversation just yet.

“That’s the second time it’s happened and we’ve only had sex twice.” You pointed out but Steve just sighed.

“It’s fine, it happens sometimes. I’m just happy that you felt good. That’s more than enough for me. Now stay there so I can clean you up.” And as he walked to the attached bathroom, your heart sank and a pit began to grow in your stomach.

“Stevie.” You started but quickly stopped as his blue eyes bore into you. Rage oozed from them like lava, stunning you into silence.

“That’s enough. I told you it’s fine, I won’t be having this conversation again.” With tensed shoulders and clenched fists, he left the room leaving you lost and feeling far more empty than ever before.

“Okay so he didn’t finish but you did. I see no problem with that, it would be the opposite for most guys.” Nat shrugged, a lean arm around your shoulders as she continued to comfort you despite her apparently dismissal of the whole thing.

You huffed, now more frustrated than distraught. “That’s not the point.” You tried to yank away but she held strong, easily pinning you back down onto the couch.

“Then what is?” She implored.

“That I’m not enough for him!” You cried. “That I’m not pretty enough or good enough in bed to even get him to cum! There has to be something wrong with me and he’ll figure that out soon enough and leave me.” Fear and sadness filled your heart as you spilled out your deepest fears to your best friend who was now stunned unto silence.

“He’ll find someone better, just like everyone else did.” You bit down on your lip as more tears rose to the surface.

“Pcholka-“ She started but was quickly interrupted by another person strutting into the communal living area.

Sharon Carter, the very personification of everything that you wished you could be, was smirking devilishly as she strolled past you and Natasha, apparently heading for the kitchen. You held your breath as she gracefully walked by, her high heels (which weren’t needed for her job) clacked against the expensive flooring.

“Don’t mind me ladies, just getting myself a protein shake. This new diet is a killer I tell ya but it’s so worth it.” Her smirk made you shrink into yourself but Natasha’s firm grip kept you from escaping.

An uncomfortable silence settled over the room as Sharon flitted about the kitchen. Until she finally began her walk back out. You breathed a sigh of relief as she passed by the couch once more but right as she reached the door frame, she turned back and made eye-contact with you.

“Oh Steve always finished with me.” Your eyes went wide with shock. Sure there had been rumours that your boyfriend and the CIA agent had been involved but nothing more ever came out of it so you always just dismissed it as office gossip, until now. “Every. Time.” She said, rubbing even more salt in your already wounded ego.

“No one fucking asked you Sharon. In fact, why are you even here, weren’t you reassigned because of your fuckup in Bosnia?” Natasha snarled, her eyes narrowing on the other agent. She twisted her body around, giving you the opportunity to rip from her grasp and make a run for it.

Nat called out your name but all you could focus on was the way that Sharon smirked at you, her bright eyes alight with an evil plan and you wouldn’t be sticking around to watch it play out, not when you knew that she would be successful.

——————

Being the completely understanding and perfect boyfriend he was, Steve could be easily avoided with a simple text that you weren’t feeling well and needed some alone time. He would always ask if you needed anything and you could tell that he was curious as to why you weren’t letting him come take care of you but he respected you too much to pry any deeper.

Natasha hadn’t been so easy to avoid but your stubbornness won out over hers so she had left you alone, just like you wanted. It was easier being alone with your thoughts than having her try to convince you that what you were feeling was stupid and a total misunderstanding.

Groaning, you threw your phone across the bed. The screen was still bright with the Cosmopolitan article about ’10 Tips and Tricks to Make Him Go Crazy For You’, all of which seemed very expensive in the case of toys and lingerie or positions that you were not nearly flexible enough to pull off.

Maybe it was hopeless, you already knew that you weren’t good enough for him so what did it matter if you couldn’t get him off. You were barely even together in the first place, it wasn’t as if you were already in love with him and breaking up would devastate you.

You rolled over onto your side and curled into the pillow that miraculously still smelt like him, squeezing it tightly to your chest. This feeling was familiar, the drop of your stomach, the stutter of your heart like you were at the precipice of a cliff and unable to stop moving forward.

And all you could think about was the disgust and the anger in Steve’s eyes that night. It was like in that moment he also figured out how one-sided the relationship was and he hated you for it.

“Doll, I know you’re in there.” Your body snapped up, your muscles pulled taut with anxiety. “You don’t have to open the door, I just want to know if you’re ok. Nat said you were having a tough time.”

“I’m fine Steve, just having a moment.” You tried to dismiss but the dry crack of your voice had him opening your door and slipping inside.

In the dim light of your bedroom, Steve’s figure was imposing, his sheer size creating a void in the space. Your heartbeat pounded loudly in your ears as he gently shut the door behind him. “You only ever call me Steve when something’s wrong.” His steps were featherlight as he cautiously crept closer.

“Steve-“

“See, there it is again. I’m your Stevie not Steve.” He whined playfully, making a ghost of a smile dance across your lips. The mattress dipped under the weight of one of his hands as he planted it by your wide hips, giving you enough space to be respectful but close enough that you could feel the heat of his skin through your pyjamas.

He leaned closer as if going in for a kiss but you stopped him with a hand to his strong chest. He paused for barely a second before he pulled your hand away and brought it up to his lips. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Your eyes dropped to your lap, you could guess what was coming next. ‘It’s not you, it’s me’ or ‘I just think we’re better off as friends’. But instead of the breakup you thought was going to happen, Steve hooked a finger under your chin and guided your gaze back to him.

“Is this about the other night? I told you that you didn’t have to worry about that.” He tutted as his thumb gently caressed your jaw. You hesitated nuzzling into his touch, still too hurt to want that comfort.

“But why would you even be with me if I can’t make you feel good?” As soon as the words slipped from your mouth, you regretted them. Steve’s expression turned stormy and suddenly, his grip became tighter until your jaw ached from the force of it.

You could see the way the vein in his neck twitched as an angry flush crawled up his cheeks. You knew he wanted to yell, to lash out at you but he quickly swallowed down his anger, taking a deep breath before he spoke again.

“You do make me feel good. You make me feel amazing, both in and out of the bedroom. You’re gorgeous doll, and smart and funny and caring. I’m with you because of that, not because I want to just get off. I get pleasure from your pleasure.” He cooed, leaning forward to rest his forehead against your own.

His breath fanned across your lips as his other hand finally cupped your hip beneath your oversized shirt. “Sharon told me that you always finished with her.” You whispered, your fingers curling into the compression shirt he wore.

His pecs rippled with your touch, his heartbeat strong beneath your palms. “I can’t cum, doll. Or at least I can’t anymore.” Taking a shaky breath, he continued.

“I don’t think I’ve cum since before the serum.” His voice was soft, ashamed. His broad shoulders dropped as he finally admitted the truth. “It did something to me that no one has been able to figure out yet but we’re getting closer.”

“But Sharon-“

“I faked it with her. Every time.” At your puzzled expression, Steve smiled softly. “I always wore condoms so she couldn’t tell and besides, it was only a couple times before you were even around. I haven’t thought about her since the moment you walked into the tower on your first day.”

Only now did you melt into his hold, letting him pull you closer as he endeavoured to comfort you. “You’re all I want, all I need. I promise.”

“Really?” You whispered, your lips drawing closer to his. The corners of his eyes scrunched as he smiled back at you.

“Really. As long as you don’t mind that I can’t fill you up with my cum, mark you from the inside out.” He growled playfully. Heat rushed to your cheeks at the dirty talk, your mind now filled with images of just that.

“Stevie!” You yelped but was cut off by his lips pressing against yours. Your heart skipped a beat as he held you tighter, the kiss quickly becoming far more passionate.

“That’s my good girl.”

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beloveds-embrace · 7 months ago

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Can we please get that Duke König with the neglected Reader please Noona I am begging

The sun was beginning to set, painting the garden in hues of gold and pink. You sat alone on the stone bench you’d started occupying often, the cloak König had draped over your shoulders still providing its comforting weight. He had been here again today, as he often was now, seeking reasons to remain in the duchy far longer than any diplomatic duty you knew required.

He never came empty-handed, of course: a carefully chosen book, a delicately wrapped sweet, or today, a small bundle of lavender tied with a ribbon. Simple, yet thought out gifts. Gifts with you in mind.

König’s approach was always quiet, unobtrusive. He never demanded, never insisted, always leaving space for you to breathe, to speak if you wished- or to remain silent if you didn’t. His presence was unlike the others you were familiar with: gentle, steady, unhurried. You felt at peace around him, pressure not pressing down on your shoulders.

Today, he had sat beside you, his massive frame hunched to match your height, the soft timbre of his voice like a balm. “The Lavendel,” he’d started. “is for peace of mind. It helped my mother when her days felt too heavy. She would place it under her pillow.”

You hadn’t spoken much, but the corner of your lips had twitched upward, just slightly. That alone seemed to light his face with a kind of hope you hadn’t seen in years.

Inside the manor, the atmosphere was tense. John stood at the window, watching the garden from a distance. Kyle leaned against the wall, arms crossed, jaw tight. Johnny sat stiffly on the armrest of Simon’s chair, and the latter simoly stared at the crackling fire.

“She smiled at him today,” Kyle muttered, his voice heavy with bitterness and sorrow. “… Haven’t seen her smile like that in months.”

Johnny ran a hand through his hair, his throat working as he swallowed. “An’ he’s the one who gets it. Him.”

“He’s a better man than we’ve been,” Simon said bluntly, tone cutting and sharp, but not wrong. “And she deserves better.”

John turned from the window, ashen. “It doesn’t matter what we think. What matters is what she chooses.”

“And what if she chooses him?” Kyle asked, his voice sharp, though the anger wasn’t directed at John alone. “What then?” The rumors would be dangerous…

None of them had an answer.

Days slowly turned into weeks, and König’s presence became as steady as the rising sun even as you began recovering more. He never pushed, but he was always there- when you wandered the garden paths, when you sat by the fire in the library, even once when you’d stood on the balcony, staring out at the horizon as though searching for something you couldn’t name.

It wasn’t grand gestures that softened you, truthfully, but his quiet consistency. The way he listened, the way he treated you as though you were more than a shadow. The way he looked at you, not with pity, but with reverence. You were not an afterthought to him; you… existed. Really, trully, existed within his eyes and he treated you as such.

And slowly, against all odds, you began to bloom again. A soft laugh here, a tentative question there. König never rushed you, only offered his steady patience and a safe space for you and only you.

They could only watch from the distant edges, the weight of their regrets pressing down on them like suffocating fog.

They tried to tell themselves it wasn’t too late, that they could still fix this. But every time they saw you smile at König, every time you turned to him instead of them, the truth became harder to ignore. They had chances once- countless chances- to reach out to you. To make things right. And they had squandered every single one and now there was just… nothing left.

And König? He was just waiting to finish this deplomatic meetings so he could take you with him to his nation. The divorce process should be easy to deal with, and he’d finally free you from this miserable life.

You would want for nothing with him, and he will ensure not a single rumor of your unhappiness will ever spread again.

#noona.asks #noona.writes #cod x reader #cod #cod x you #konig x you #konig x reader #konig drabble #konig imagine #john price x reader

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rollofthed1ce · 4 months ago

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What if Y/N cookie fell asleep in a place that can't easily be found and the ancients thought they ran away, will they come looking for their dear cookie?

I Soo wanna see their expressions! Ohhh! What faces will they make when they realized Y/N cookie was just asleep

🎭

Short answer: yes Long answer:

Lost and Found

“Nononononnononono…!”

Pure Vanilla yelled out, making a mess in the library. He had checked all the hiding spots you could hide in after you went missing. All he remembered was leaving you in his room for an important meeting.

After throwing a table to the side, he started to panic more and more. Trying to think of where you might have hid.

“Ok, they’re not in our room, library, bathroom, or any other spot in the castle. Maybe… no.”

He darted out the library, running down the halls as fast as he could. He hoped that maybe they didn’t come back. The thieves that tried to take you away from him.

“Please don’t let this be please don’t let this be please-“

Pure Vanilla came to a screeching halt as he turned around. There was a door. A door unfamiliar to him. It lay opened just a tiny bit. He stepped closer and opened the door.

Behind the door layed another bedroom. It held a bed with two nights stands, a few empty book shelves, and a desk. Pure Vanilla walk in. He looked around the room with confusion.

“There was… another guest room? When did…”

He paused. Looking at the bed he spotted someone sleeping in the bed. He stepped closer to see it who it was. When he did, he felt relief wash over him.

There he found you, sleeping soundly in the bed. Pure Vanilla placed a hand on your head and gently stroked your head. A soft smile forming on his face

“You gave me such a scare, my love. Oh, but you look so cute when you asleep. Sleep well my dear. Sleep well…”

Three hours. That was the time where everyone had seen you last.

Hollyberry waited out in the garden. She walked around the plant beds and statues as she thought of what to do. Sweat began to run down her face as her mind spiraled out of control. She was worried.

She wasn’t worried that you were in danger. She knew you could take care of yourself. No. She was worried because of the fact no one had seen where you went. No guard on patrol had seen you go out of the palace. And the servants were too busy with the preparations for the next ball to notice you had gone missing.

“How is this possible? Where could they have gone? May they… perhaps…. What about….”

Hollyberry let out a groan of annoyance, she was tired. She got home after a long adventure and now she has to deal with this.

“Ok, perhaps I should call another hunting event. Perhaps some of them could find Y/n and take them back home… or I could get Pitaya to help find them. They couldn’t have gone far… right?”

Hollyberry continued to walk around. Her pattern soon got broken as her thoughts blinded her. She didn’t know she had started to walk down a path under the trees. She didn’t realize she had walked out far from her palace. She didn’t realize she had just discovered a massive lake. And on the lake she spotted… a gazebo?

She made her way down the path next to the lake. At the end she stumbled upon a massive gazebo. The railing shown some sign of old age, yet it still stands.

“…this architecture. They look similar to ones you’d see back at my kingdom. And yet… they look as tho there from a different world.”

Hollyberry stepped into the gazebo. there lay a fire place with a table in-front as three couches surrounded it. She looked around see there was also a small kitchen area, hangers, and an entire shelves of juices. Seeing this, she let out a sigh of relief as she went to one of the bottles.

“Thank the witches, I needed one of these. Tho I wonder who- ah!” She jumped a foot off the ground as she saw you sleeping on one of the couch.

There was a silence for a long while before letting out a chuckle. Patting your head as she smirk.

“So this is where you run off to?” She chuckled to herself. Hollyberry smirk slowly faded away. She looked down at you, seeing you sleeping like this. Seeing how small you were compared to her. It made you look… adorable.

She thought for a moment before lifting your head up she can sit down and place your head on her lap. Patting it as she put the bottle of juice to the side.

“I guess the ball can wait a little while…”

The sun begins to set, the storm calms down, but the King still roams the halls of his citadel.

Dark Cacao has grown worried of your absence, you hadn’t returned from work and no one had seen where you had gone.

He knows you never left, but that only makes things worse. Where had you gone?

He wondered and wondered and wondered until he felt his legs felt like jelly. He had lost track of time and yet it felt as tho time had halted. He didn’t know where you had gone to, but he might know why.

It had been so long since you had been outside. You wanted to go out for a walk, a long one, and he refused. Your need to go out had caused an argument, it felt similar to his fight with his son. But unlike him, you fought with words. After you stormed out and ran off. He was so full of anger he didn’t think of stopping you.

“…oh, how foolish I was. If I just….” He looked out, seeing the snow fall from the sky as he thought about his decision, “…maybe I should have let them go. They’ve been so restless even with the constant work… but if they did then…”

In the distance, he saw the faint light of a fire. It came from a tower. He thought it came from on of the watcher towers… until he looked to sees all the watchers at the wall.

“…WAIT A MI-“

Yeah I think you know where this is going

“WHERE ARE YOU Y/N!!!”

Golden Cheese roared, flying down the halls of her pyramid with high speed. She had searched every inch within her territory and out. Yet she couldn’t find you anywhere. It was only near the Tropical Soda Island was she notified that you had never actually left.

More and more she grew desperate, going faster and faster, so fast that that everything started to get blurry. She came to a screeching halt, almost crashing into a wall, she was tired and wanted to just go to her bed and cuddle. But with you gone, she was worried sick.

She let out a tired breath, walking all the way to the sarcophagus she uses when you escaped.

“How could I have happen? How did I loose my most prized possession? Why must Y/N be so distance from me. haven’t I lost enough already? How much more must I…”

As she made her way to your sarcophagus, she spotted something. It was a hallway, one unfamiliar with Golden Cheese.

She made her way down the hall, spear in hand, and walked down the dimly lit hall. At the end of the tunnel she found an airlock. After that she found herself in a conservatory, one flourishing with many species of plants. From common roses to the rarest flower to ever be recorded.

Golden Cheese looked on with awe as she explored the rest of the conservatory.

“So many plants, so many unfamiliar with this terrain. Who build this? Was it a Cheese Bird? Who would be able to build all of this?”

She walked around more and more, eventually stumbling upon a flour bed of orange lilies. And there in the middle lay a sleeping bag with someone inside. She walked closer to find you sleeping.

At first she dove straight to you with open arms, but stopped, flying up high before sitting next to you. She watch you sleep. Seeing you so comfortable, how to lilies matched your yellow-orange sleeping bag… how much she wanted to pull you into her arms and keep it like that as long as she lived.

She sat there for a long while, quietly getting up and walking off to explore the rest of the conservatory.

“…maybe it’s best I know more about this area… right?”

How did she lose you?

HOW did she, manage to lose sight of where YOU were??

She searched everywhere around the kingdom. She knows you’d never go anywhere else. The dangers that came from this island was too much for poor old you… right?

Hours upon hours of searching, she just gave up. Her eyes were dry and stained tears ran down her cheeks as she tried to catch her breath, she refused to believe that you were truly gone.

“N-No this… it c-can’t b-be tr-true… t-the-ey couldn’t have l-left. M-maybe t-they were w-w-waiting b-back home… r-right?”

White Lily walked down a path separated from the rest, this path led to her happy place. A place where she can calm down.

Soon she found herself in a field of white lilies, all surrounding the edge of a pond. She sat down near the pond. Letting the sound of nature flood her head as she lets out a deep breath. Closing her eyes as she slowly calms down.

After a while she opened her eyes again, watching as the fish swim about. how they swim so calmly as they swim under a sleeping you floating above the water. Seeing all the colors and patterns each scale forms on each fish has become a way of relaxation for her when she can’t be with you. But even so, sometimes it’s best to just sit down and enjoy the beauties of nature- wait what?

White Lily darts her head up, seeing you sleeping but also floating above the water.

“MY LITTLE BUTTERFLY!!!” White Lily screamed, jumping into the water and swimming towards you.

#yandere hollyberry #yandere dark cacao #yandere cookie run #yandere crk #yandere pure vanilla #yandere crk x reader #yandere golden cheese #yandere white lily

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nightcourtnovels · 26 days ago

Text

Little Matchmaker

Azriel x reader (part 4.5)

Summary: reader gets a birthday gift and her friend can’t help but push her to go big or go home.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

She was dreaming.

She knew it even as she felt the soft weight of a blanket draped over her bare shoulders, Azriel’s callused fingers brushed her cheek, just as his arm curled tighter around her waist. They were still wet from the pool, skin warm and tangled beneath one of her spare blankets. The sun was rising above her balcony doors, the city waking while they started to rest. His voice, low and scratchy, murmured something against her hair.

“Stay,” she whispered.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he promised.

But he always did…

Y/N blinked awake as the sun crept through her curtains due to the blowing wind. Her bed was cold, and empty, and her heart gave a small, traitorous ache.

She groaned, covering her face with a pillow.

“Snap out of it,” she muttered to herself.

Today was her birthday. But, she had scrolls to read, enchantments to translate, and the library wouldn’t run itself. Just because she’d spent the last few nights dreaming of Azriel’s smile or the way his fingers lingered a little too long on her back, or the kiss he left her with that still made her stomach flip, didn’t mean she had time to daydream today.

The date was two weeks ago, but it still felt like yesterday. She really needed to stop thinking about it; they lived completely different lives and it was only a one time thing.

Yet, she couldn’t help but remember how beautiful the night was, no male had ever treated her like he did.

With a sigh, Y/N got ready for work.

The library was quiet as always, the scent of old paper and ink calming her nerves. She’d settled into a rhythm, nose deep in a scroll on ancient Day Court magic, when someone cleared their throat beside her desk.

She looked up to see a young messenger, wide-eyed and clearly in awe of the massive collection around him.

“Delivery,” he said, holding out a wrapped box and a bouquet of various white flowers speckled with silver.

Y/N blinked, stunned. “Uh… for me?”

He nodded, handed them over, and quickly scurried away.

She stared at the package and bouquet wondering if the messenger perhaps got the wrong female.

No one sent her gifts. Especially not ones wrapped in delicate paper and tied with navy ribbon. Her fingers trembled slightly as she pulled the small envelope off the flowers.

In neat, precise handwriting, she read:

Happy 250th, Bright One.

For someone who claims no one would want her at this age, I thought I’d take the chance before the line forms. I haven’t forgotten that you owe me a book recommendation.

— A.

She stared at the note, cheeks warming so fast it felt like she’d swallowed sunlight.

“Oh goodness,” came her friend Selene’s voice from behind. “Who are those from?”

“Ummm no one.”

Giggling, Selene reached around her in a flash and snatched the card from her hand.

“Oooooohhhhhhh,” she sung. “Definitely not a one-time thing, then.”

“It’s not like that,” Y/N said quickly, her blush deepening. “He’s just being—nice.”

“Nice? You can’t find these flowers everywhere, babe.” Selene said.

Her friend then stared at the box in wonder. “You should definitely open the box.”

“What do you think it is?” Y/N asked.

“Probably a dagger, he seems to like those things.”

Y/N squawked, “A dagger?? Are you insane? Why would he give me one of those?”

Selene chuckled, “Umm, so you can defend yourself while he’s not here to be your knight in shining armor?”

Trying to believe her own words, Selene playfully practiced her fighting moves with a nonexistent dagger. “Yeah definitely that!”

Y/N shook her head. “As much as I love how your brain works, it can’t be dagger. There’s no way.”

Her friend only raised her brows and pointed to the box. Sighing, Y/N tentatively unwrapped the present.

Inside, nestled in black velvet, sat a delicate necklace with a deep blue stone and matching earrings, shaped like falling stars. Ethereal. Night Court craftsmanship, undoubtedly.

The two of them sat in silence for a minute. Selene wasn’t sure if Y/N was breathing.

“Sweet Mother,” Selene breathed. “These are gorgeous. How will you ever thank him? Since, you know, it was just a ‘one-time thing’.”

Snapping out of her thoughts, Y/N reminded herself to breathe and rolled her eyes at her friend. “I don’t know. Maybe next time he’s in Day.”

“You are telling me that you’ll just thank him next time he’s here?”

“What am I supposed to do? Sprout wings and fly to the Night Court immediately?”

Selene giggled, “I mean it’s not a bad idea. That way you could thank him properly.” Wiggling her eyebrows for dramatic effect.

Y/N gasped, hitting her friend playfully. “Absolutely not. You are so vulgar. I would never do that.”

The two stared at each other before falling into a fit of laughter.

“Okay mayyybe. Perhaps if the appropriate moment, you know, happened to happen. I would gracefully get on my knees…”

Before Y/N could finish her sentence, Selene slapped a hand over Y/N’s mouth. “And you say I’m vulgar! Does he know about these naughty things you say!?!”

“Of course not, he thinks I’m a perfect angel,” Y/N smirked.

“Hmm then you must have not talked very much on that date because you my friend are far from an angel.”

Y/N mockingly gasped and gestured to the jewelry that seemed to sparkle as if they too couldn’t hold in their laughter. “Then explain these gifts!”

“Wellllll hear me out,” her friend drawled, wiggling her brows. “I think I have the perfect way to thank him. There is a thing called Starfall next week in the Night Court…”

“We can’t just invite ourselves!” Y/N protested. “He probably already has a date.”

“Why not? When’s the last time we’ve been on vacation? You’re working on your birthday. Come on Y/N. You’re in desperate need of a break. I’m in desperate need of a scandal. And you—” she pointed at her with a smirk, “—have been gifted jewelry and flowers by the shadowsinger of the Night Court. I can promise you, he doesn’t already have a date.”

Y/N glanced down at the necklace again, fingers ghosting over the silver chain. “We don’t have dresses. Or a place to stay.”

“Pfft,” her friend scoffed. “Leave that to me. Dresses, done. Place to stay—handled. Not that you need one, I’m sure the Shadowsinger has a big enough bed. All you need to do is pack your bag and maybe think about what book you’re going to show him next. You know, to repay him.”

Her mouth twitched. “You're relentless.”

“It's why you love me. And besides… tell me you don't want to see him again.”

She didn’t answer. Just glanced at the card again. The way his inked scrawl curved her nickname. The way the bouquet shimmered under the library’s lights.

After a long moment, Y/N murmured, “Okay. Fine. I guess it has been a while.”

Her friend squealed, clapping. “Starfall, here we come!”

Y/N tried to fight her smile. Really, she did. But it was hopeless. The glow from the flowers mirrored the glow in her chest as she turned back to her desk—her mind already drifting far, far from the scrolls in front of her.

To the stars.

To a Night Court male who remembered her birthday.

“Okay let’s do it!”

#acotar #azriel #azriel fic #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x female!reader #azriel x reader

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ticifics · 6 months ago

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hi im so in love with your writing! I was wondering if I could request an angsty remus fic? maybe with an unrequited love theme where reader has a massive crush on him but he notices and rejects reader before they can even confess? its not that’s ok! mwah tyy <33

Unrequited Love

Remus Lupin x f!reader

Summary: It wasn’t just a crush. It was deeper, more desperate. Every day beside him was a mix of silent happiness and growing pain because, deep down, you knew he didn’t see you the same way. And yet, you clung to any shred of attention. A smile in the hallway or the sound of his name on your lips, which he always responded to with that infallible kindness. You knew you were drowning, but you couldn’t help it.

Warnings: angst

A/N: hi love, you are so kind, thank you so much for the sweet words. I hope I did something that meets your expectations - and gosh, maybe, just maybe I am a little devastated, it's two angsts in a row with my boy Remus (that said, of course I loved doing it)

Unrequited Love | part II

You couldn’t quite remember exactly when it all started, but at some point between shared classes and comfortable silences in the library, Remus Lupin started occupying every thought of yours. Maybe it was that afternoon, weeks ago, when he noticed you were struggling to understand the theory behind a complicated spell. He approached, gentle but not invading your space, and said: "Can I help? I think I have an easier way to explain this."

You accepted, of course, your face warm and words stuck in your throat. He sat beside you, his voice low and firm as he pointed to the lines of the book with a slender finger. Every time he explained something, he’d end it with a quick glance, as if he wanted to confirm you were following along. You were so captivated by the sound of his voice that the actual understanding of the spell came later, when you were alone.

That’s when you started noticing the details. The way he furrowed his brow when reading something particularly complicated, or how he smiled to the side, a subtle smile, but enough to light up your whole day. He was different. He didn’t draw attention like his friends, who were usually the center of any room, but there was something in the restrained gestures, the care in his words, that made him seem more... real.

You began seeking opportunities to be near him. Not that it was intentional at first, but you always seemed to end up at the table next to him in the library or choosing the same time to study in the empty classroom. He never seemed to mind. In fact, he always nodded or gave a polite "good afternoon" before returning to what he was doing.

There was that day, though, that stayed engraved in your mind with almost painful clarity. It was an ordinary afternoon, and you were in the library. You had mentioned, without thinking, that you loved chamomile tea because your mother used to say it had a "comforting taste." He chuckled softly, a sound that made your heart stumble in your chest. A few weeks later, while you were sitting in a class, he casually leaned in and murmured: "Did you know chamomile tea was used in Ancient Greece as medicine? Seems fitting, doesn’t it?"

Your head spun to him, surprised. He remembered. It was just a silly sentence you had said, but he remembered. The rest of the class passed in a blur as you replayed each word, each glance.

It wasn’t just a crush. It was deeper, more desperate. He seemed to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders, but you wanted so much to be the one who could ease some of that. Every day beside him was a mix of silent happiness and growing pain because, deep down, you knew he didn’t see you the same way.

And yet, you clung to any shred of attention. A smile in the hallway, a "Are you okay?" after a tough test, or the sound of his name on your lips, which he always responded to with that infallible kindness.

You knew you were drowning, but you couldn’t help it.

The weeks dragged on like a dream, but a dream that never became reality. With every encounter with Remus, you felt like you were floating, but there was always an invisible weight pulling you back to the ground. He was kind, considerate, but never crossed the line. Every gesture, every word, was filled with a cordiality that you desperately wanted to interpret as something more, but you couldn’t ignore the voice in your head whispering, "He's just being polite. It doesn’t mean anything."

It was in this tension that an idea formed. A letter. If you couldn’t say everything you felt to him in words, maybe you could put it on paper. You had already rehearsed so many times, in your mind, the perfect phrases, the declarations that could, perhaps, make him see you differently. But every time you opened your mouth, the words died before they took shape.

That night, sitting on your bed with the curtains closed around you, you held a piece of parchment. The quill trembled in your hand as you stared at the blank page. Your heart was pounding, a mix of anticipation and fear. What could you write that would capture everything you felt? How could you translate in words the impact he had on you, the way he made the world seem lighter just by being in it?

After minutes that felt like hours, you began:

"Remus, I know this might seem strange or unexpected, but I need to say something that I’ve kept to myself for so long that I can’t keep it in anymore. Since I met you, something inside me has changed. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but there’s something in your gestures, in the way you look at the world, that makes me want to be a part of it. You’re more than kind; you’re someone who makes everything seem... possible. I don’t know how to put it any other way, so I’ll be direct: I like you. More than as a friend. And I needed to tell you. Because holding this in is starting to hurt more than having the courage to say it."

You stopped, looking at the words you had just written. Your breath was heavy, and silent tears threatened to fall. It was a relief, in a way, to see it all there on paper. But the weight of what could happen next was almost unbearable.

For a moment, you considered handing him the letter. Not that night, of course, but maybe the next morning, or during the next class. The idea gave you a spark of hope, but also brought an overwhelming fear.

What if he didn’t feel the same?

That question echoed in your mind, over and over, as you carefully folded the letter and hid it in the pocket of your coat. Your hand stayed there, feeling the weight of the parchment like a bomb about to explode.

Remus knew. He had known for some time. There was no way he couldn’t notice.

There was something in the way you looked at him, a hesitant and hopeful gleam, that didn’t go unnoticed. He noticed the moments when you got closer than necessary, like when you sat beside him in the library even when there were empty tables. He noticed how you seemed to hold your breath whenever he leaned in to explain something, or how your words sometimes faltered, as if the weight of something unspoken was too much.

He wasn’t a fool. The subtleties of the heart, however, were a territory he preferred to avoid. Especially when he knew he couldn’t return the feelings.

You were smart, dedicated, kind in a way that made people want to be near you, and you were beautiful. He genuinely liked your company, but not in that way. Not the way you seemed to desire. Remus felt a tightness in his chest every time this reality pressed upon him, because he knew what needed to be done. He knew that the longer he let things drag on, the worse it would be for you.

That’s why, after Potions class that afternoon, he waited for you to finish gathering your things. He didn’t know exactly what he would say, but the words had been weighing on his throat for days.

“Do you have a minute?” His voice was calm, but there was something in his expression, the way he avoided eye contact for a second longer than usual, that made your heart stop.

“Of course.” Your response was automatic, but the nervousness crept into your voice. He was serious, more serious than you’d ever seen him before, and that sent a chill through your stomach.

As you walked beside him, the hallways seemed longer, quieter. You noticed he didn’t look directly at you, and that only made the nervousness grow.

He stopped next to an empty window, where the late afternoon light fell in soft angles. You held your books to your chest, as if they were armor, while he finally turned to face you.

“I... I think we need to talk.”

Your heart seemed to beat too fast, as if trying to prepare itself for whatever might come out of his mouth. You knew he wouldn’t say this lightly. “We need to talk” was never a casual introduction, it never preceded something good. Still, you tried to hold on to the faint hope, that quiet voice in the back of your mind whispering: Maybe he feels something too. Maybe he wants to say he noticed...

“I... I need to be honest with you,” Remus began, his voice low and serious, his words carefully chosen, but they still fell like stones upon you. “I don’t think it would be fair to let this continue without saying anything.”

Your fingers tightened around your books against your chest. Without saying what? Anxiety ran like fire through your veins, and you couldn’t look away from him, even though part of you wanted to run.

“I’ve noticed that...” He paused, biting his lower lip slightly, as if the words were hard to form. He ran a hand through his hair nervously, looking away for a brief moment before meeting your eyes again. “You’ve been... very kind to me, and I appreciate that. Truly. But I... I don’t want you to think that... there’s something here that isn’t.”

The world seemed to silence around you. Only his words echoed in your mind: “Something that isn’t.” It was as if he had ripped the ground out from under you with a single sentence.

“I don’t understand.” Your voice came out quieter than you expected, almost a whisper. You knew what he was trying to say, but at the same time, you refused to believe it. It couldn’t be this. It couldn’t end like this.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” He took a step closer, his gaze filled with something that seemed like guilt. “But I think you feel something for me. Something more than friendship.”

You felt your face burn, your chest tightening as if being compressed by an impossible weight. He knew. All this time, he knew.

“I...” You tried to deny it, tried to find some word that could save you from the abyss opening up, but your voice failed.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he interrupted, his voice softer now, but somehow, that only made it hurt more. “I just... I don’t want you to get hurt. You’re amazing. You’re kind, you’re smart, and anyone would be lucky to have your attention.” He sighed, his shoulders dropping slightly, as if the weight of the situation affected him too. “But I’m not that person. I can’t... see you that way.”

It was as if he had pulled the air from your lungs. Every word felt like a blade, cutting slowly but deeply. You felt tears burning in your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. Not in front of him.

“You’re saying that...” You stopped, swallowing hard, your throat too tight to continue.

“I don’t want you to have hopes where there’s no space for them,” he said softly, as if trying to minimize the impact, but the pain was already there, overwhelming and absolute.

You didn’t know what to say, how to respond. All you could feel was the crushing rejection, the weight of knowing he would never look at you the same way. It was worse than you had imagined, because he wasn’t being cruel. He was being honest, and his honesty hurt more than any cruelty ever could.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, almost in a whisper, and those words were the final stone that fell upon your heart already in ruins.

You nodded quickly, unable to trust your own voice, and took a step back. You wanted to say something, wanted to pretend you were fine, but there was nothing that could be said. So, you just turned and left, feeling his eyes on your back but not looking back.

The first tear fell before you even turned the corner.

Each step echoed like a drum in your ears, blending with the disordered sound of your thoughts. You pressed the books to your chest so tightly that your fingers began to ache, but it was better to focus on the physical pain than the agony that was boiling inside you.

The students around you laughed, talked, ran. The castle was alive, pulsing with the energy of carefree teenagers, but everything felt muffled, distant, as if you were walking through a bad dream.

You turned down a random hallway, not even knowing where you were going, just needing to get away from everything and everyone. Your heart pounded in your chest, and the knot in your throat seemed to tighten with every passing moment, as if it were impossible to swallow the weight that kept building there.

Finally, you found an empty corner, behind a worn tapestry that no one seemed to notice. It was a temporary hiding spot, but it was all you needed. You threw yourself against the cold wall, sliding to the floor, the books falling from your hands as the tears you had held back for so long finally overflowed.

They came hot and relentless, streaming down your face mercilessly. You tried to stifle the sobs, biting your fist, but it was useless. The pain felt like its own entity, growing and spreading inside you.

Your chest ached, a physical sensation of emptiness and tightness that almost made you gasp for air. Your hands trembled, gripping your knees as if they were your only anchor. He knew. Those words echoed repeatedly in your mind. He had known all along.

Worse yet, not only did he know, but he had decided to tell you in such a careful, gentle way that the rejection became even more painful. He hadn't looked down on you, hadn't mocked you, but that only made it crueler. He had looked directly at you and said, without hesitation, that there was no space for you in his heart.

You closed your eyes, trying to breathe deeply, but all you could see was his face. The calm expression, the soft tone. The contrast between his kindness and the brutality of what he was saying was unbearable.

What had you done wrong? The question burned like fire, consuming everything around you. You replayed every interaction, every glance, every word spoken. There was no way to erase the moments when your heart raced for something he said or did. There was no way to turn back time and rip the feelings from yourself that you knew he would never return.

In the distance, you could hear other students passing by, carefree voices, laughter filling the hallways. Life continued as if nothing had happened, as if your world hadn't ended in that moment. The contrast was suffocating, a reminder that your pain was yours alone.

You hugged your knees, trying to diminish the feeling of falling apart. All you wanted was to disappear, to become invisible. Maybe, if no one saw you, no one would know how broken you were.

Time seemed to drag on, but it also slipped through your fingers like sand. You couldn’t tell how much time had passed since that conversation. Days? Weeks? Every unavoidable encounter with him felt like tearing the scab off a wound that hadn't even started to heal.

Classes became a kind of silent torture. He was always there, just a few meters away, and you could feel his presence like an electric current pulsing in the air. Sometimes, your eyes would meet for a brief moment, and he’d smile hesitantly, almost as if he were trying to offer some form of comfort.

But there was no comfort to be found.

You started changing seats in classes, picking places farther away. You walked through the hallways with your eyes on the floor, avoiding any chance of crossing paths with him. When he was with James or Sirius, laughing and talking loudly, you found some excuse to leave. Seeing that smile, hearing that laugh, felt like a cruel reminder that his life was going on without interruption while yours was in ruins.

You knew he noticed. Remus Lupin was perceptive, perhaps more than anyone you knew. And that’s why, on an ordinary afternoon, he came over.

The hallway was empty, and you were organizing the books in your bag with slightly trembling hands. When his shadow fell over you, your stomach tightened instinctively.

“Hey,” he began, his voice low and cautious, as if he were walking on glass. “Can I talk to you?”

You didn’t want to. You wanted to turn and run, wanted to scream for him to leave you alone. But instead, you just nodded, because running now seemed useless.

He hesitated for a moment before continuing. “I... noticed you’ve been avoiding me.” He ran a hand through his hair, a habit you knew all too well. “I don’t want things to be like this between us.”

The bitter laugh almost escaped your lips, but you swallowed it. “Like what?” Your voice came out harsher than you intended, but your heart was pounding so hard that it was hard to control.

“Distant.” He took a step closer, but stopped when he saw you recoil, even if it was just a little. “I... hope we’re still friends.”

The word pierced like a sharp blade. Friends. Of course. That was what he wanted from you. What he always wanted. And hearing it, said so gently and sincerely, made it hurt even more.

You wrapped your arms around your body as if that could contain the emptiness spreading inside you. “Friends,” you repeated, testing the word on your lips. It felt strange, bitter, as if it didn’t belong there.

“Yes.” He gave a small, hopeful smile. “I really... I’m so sorry, you know? For everything. I never meant for you to feel like this.”

“I know.” Your response was barely audible. You knew he didn’t want to hurt you. That made it all worse.

There was an uncomfortable silence between you. He seemed to be waiting for something, maybe a confirmation that everything was okay. But you couldn’t give him that. Not now.

“I... I need to go,” you finally said, your voice trembling as you slung the bag over your shoulder.

“Of course,” he replied, a little hurriedly. “But... we’re okay, right? I just want you to know, if you need me, I’m here.”

You closed your eyes for a brief moment, trying to breathe, trying to stop the pain from overflowing once more. When you opened them, you forced a small smile that didn’t reach your eyes. “I’m fine, Remus. Thank you.”

Before he could respond, you turned and walked quickly, feeling the tears threatening to fall.

As you turned the corner, you leaned against the wall for a moment, your eyes burning and your breath heavy. He wasn’t cruel. He would never be. And maybe that was exactly what made it all so unbearable.

Night had fallen over Hogwarts, and the castle was immersed in a heavy silence. You were in the farthest corner of the common room, where no one seemed to notice your presence. The only company was the fireplace, its flames flickering irregularly, casting shadows that danced across the walls.

In your hands, the letter you wrote weeks ago trembled slightly. The parchment was crumpled and worn at the edges, as if it had been handled countless times but never read by anyone other than you.

You remembered exactly the moment when you wrote it, the words flowing like a confession from your heart. It was everything you wanted to say to him. All the feelings that had been growing, gaining strength and life of their own. You had poured out every thought, every heartbeat, with the naive hope that he might feel the same.

But now, all that remained was a useless piece of paper.

You smoothed the parchment carefully, your fingers tracing the words written in your hesitant handwriting. Each sentence seemed to mock you now, like a cruel reminder of everything you felt and everything that would never be returned.

The flame of the fireplace seemed to call to you, its warmth offering a final solution to the weight you carried. With a trembling sigh, you stood up, feeling your heart tighten in your chest.

You hesitated for a moment, the letter still firmly held in your hands. Part of you wanted to keep it, hold onto it as a reminder of something that once mattered. But another part of you knew you needed to let go, even if it meant releasing something you never truly had.

"I could never be enough for you, could I?" you whispered to no one, your voice barely above a thread.

Finally, you brought the parchment closer to the flame, and it began to burn slowly. The edges darkened and curled, the fire consuming the words that once seemed so important. You watched each line disappear, one after another, until all that remained was ash and embers.

The pain in your chest was unbearable, but you stood there, motionless, watching as the last particles of the letter were carried away by the wind from the fire. It felt like watching the end of something that never had the chance to begin.

You sat on the floor, pulling your knees to your chest, the tears finally falling freely. They burned, hot and relentless, as you wondered how it was possible to feel so much for someone who would never look at you the same way.

Despite everything, you knew you still loved him. That was the cruelest part of all. Even after all the pain, all the rejection, you couldn’t simply turn off your feelings. He was still the one who made your heart race, who inhabited your dreams, who carried the weight of your hopes and fears.

But he would never be yours.

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lostintransist · 5 months ago

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Can't Catch Me | A König One-Shot

König runs into a spot of trouble with the mob. But wouldn't you know it, his favorite barista is heading home and is willing to play along.

For @backseatsoldier *hugs, kisses, and hopefully König spends the night*

CW: 18+ Minors do not interact, kissing, ass smacking, suggestive themes

You stretched your neck as you walked the final stretch toward home. Two jobs, an early morning barista shift followed by a break, and then a half shift at a call center always left you drained. But between the two schedules, you had time to do two classes a day or settle at the school library and bust out homework before it was due. No matter the time the sun had always hidden itself away before you could leave the call center.

The shitty and small bathtub in your flat and a bath bomb someone had given you for Christmas two years back called your name. The well of the tub was so thin that water got trapped behind you as you emptied it. You forgot that until you went to stand up and a flood of water rushes over your legs and toes.

You are flung, quite literally, from your thoughts when you meet a wall nose first. Rubbing your nose you step back and look up, and up, and up. Oh! You know this wall! He comes by your coffee shop regularly enough and always gives K as his name.

“Oh! Iced chai with two espresso, sorry about that. I should have been watching where I was going.”

The tall, broad man glances behind him. His face is hidden by a surgical mask, as always. When he glances back to you a spark of something, something concerning, lights in his eyes.

“You know me, ja?” At your confused nod he continues, “How much I pay you pretend we together?”

Blinking rapidly is your only response before your mouth forms a “wha” shape.

“Five hundred enough?”

“Uh-u-sure?”

He rips the mask off, shoving it deep in his pocket before grabbing your right hand in his left and circling a long arm around you, caging you between the combined length of your arms.

“How was work love?”

He stares down at you expectantly. The sound of pounding feet reaches your ears, the volume rising with each step.

“Honestly love? It was exhausting.”

His eyes get wider the closer the footsteps get. You wrench the hat off your head, ignoring the hat hair you undoubtedly have. Slapping it down over his massive skull you have never been more thankful for what your mother always complained of as your ‘overly large, vagina-tearing noggin’. It’s a bit of a tight fit but the layer of change helps his shoulders relax a fraction.

“What made it so bad?”

You start walking as he continues the charade, tugging him along despite his clear resistance.

“So, you know how my boss is a complete asshole right?” He grunts and you continue, “Well he just hired his daughter to be the office manager, which first off is clearly a nepo choice but I’m just a part-time employee what the hell can I say about it?”

Two men dressed all in black and guns on their hips race past the two of you with barely a glance.

“Not much,” he agrees, ear tipped toward the retreating footsteps. “How much to go to your apartment until I can get a ride here?”

“Your name.”

He looks down at you, brows pinched together under the brim of your borrowed hat.

“König.”

“Thank you, König. Yes, you can come and hang out at my apartment until you get your ride scheduled.”

The stress from his shoulders and the pinched look on his face disappeared.

“Now tell me more, I thought you worked at the coffee shop.” He falls into step with you now, slower shorter steps keeping up with your slightly elongated to accommodate for him.

“I do, I work the early shift at the café and then have a few hours off for school and homework before I do my late-night job so I can make rent.” Bumping his thigh with your hip you continue, “What do you do other than running from gangsters?”

“Mobsters,” he countered, “Blow stuff up, mostly.”

“Mmm. Quite impressive.”

The sound of footsteps, speeding back toward you sent both your hackles up.

König leaned down into your ear, “How much to kiss you?”

Mind can’t keep up with all these jumps and you spit out the first number word you can think of.

“Hundred!”

He lets out a small laugh, pulling you tighter to him and moving you both forward as he directs your steps closer to the wall. Your back hits the wall as the men come into view. König’s lips are on your before you can think of much else.

Could a brain give a blue screen of death? That’s the only way you can describe the complete lack of function your brain produces when his lips meet yours. Movement happens by need alone and that need has you pulling him closer, fingers digging into the flesh at his waist as you lick the seam of his lips. His forearm lands next to your head as his knees buckle slightly.

The footsteps slow as they pass you but the wanton, and frankly, too graphic to be outside of a bedroom or a porno sounds shoot erupts out of you, sending them scurrying away. Some masculine cologne sweeps into your brain, killing off the last of your brain cells. You would climb him like a tree given half a chance.

“Six hundred,” he whispers as he pulls back slightly.

Eyes unfocused, you blindly reach out and grab him by the collar. Dragging him back to your lips you catch his lower lip between your teeth, pulling gently as you lean away. The tiniest sound escapes from deep in his throat, a spear thrown that landed directly in your needy bits.

“Seven hundred,” you breathed on his lips.

Breaths mingling König watches you watch him. The condensation of his breath warms and cools your face.

“Those kisses are worth a hundred a piece,” he whispers as if worship is his primary language.

Movement from the edge of your vision alerts you to the mob’s incoming presence.

“Pick me up, keep pretending. I can direct you to my apartment,” an edge of panic creeps into your voice as you force your eyes to not move from his.

He does as you command, hands so wide they nearly span the width of your thighs as he lifts you, knees hugging his waist and ankles locking behind his back.

The giggle that escapes you is real. You were too solid for nearly any other man to hoist you like this. He settles both arms under your butt, holding you close. Flopping onto his shoulders, kissing up and down his neck you count the doorways until you see the one before yours and bite gently on König’s earlobe. He pulls you tighter when you start to murmur.

“This next door is mine. They are still following but looking way less suspiciously at us. Smack my ass.”

König didn’t need to be told twice. The crack of his large hand across your backside made the men following flinch and turn away, confident now that the man they had followed half a block was not the person they were looking for.

You didn’t mean to, but your jaw tightened, pinching his earlobe tighter as you whine into his ear. He let out a groan that would haunt your masturbation sessions until you reached death, dildo in hand.

Letting go of his ear you rest back on his shoulder. He rubs out the sting of his smack; your inner walls clench at the care.

“First door is unlocked. Head to the top floor. I’m in six.”

He isn’t breathing hard when he tops the several flights of stairs, even despite the additional weight of your body.

When he lets you down it is with a slide down the length of his body, a slight bulge at his zipper confirms you weren’t the only one affected by the shared kisses. You spin around, focusing diligently on the task of unlocking the door. Throwing the door wide you step in and gesture to the space.

“Get comfortable, call your ride. I need to change and get ready for bed. I have to be awake in five hours for work,” you don’t turn as you stalk further into your small apartment.

Shutting the bedroom door you cover your mouth with both hands as you force the deepest breaths you can manage through your nose. After the tenth deep breath, you are calm enough to change. Your long pants and ugliest hoodie are your shields. A soft, wireless bra you pray is enough to keep the ladies from trying to claw their way to say hello and a clean, dry pair of underwear is the last of the changes.

Stepping from the bedroom you find König staring out the window and down at the street.

“Wanna watch a show while you wait for your ride?” You twist the inner portion of your hoodie pocket around one finger.

“Ja,” he nods and settles into one corner of the couch with three massive steps.

Turning on something calming, settling yourself on the other side of the couch, a pillow wedged underneath your head. You are drifting when his phone buzzes once.

He curses in what sounds like German before tapping your leg with two fingers.

“My ride is delayed. Can I purchase more kisses?”

Any sleep that might have been gathering fled like birds as a toddler ran full force toward them. You popped upright, looking over every bit of the man you could see in the shifting light of the TV.

The serious cast to his face decided your answer for you. Crawling into his lap, not unlike the way he carried you home less than an hour ago, you settle yourself pussy to penis. The layers of clothing between you would not prevent you from enjoying this stolen bit of time.

“König, I am going to do my best to bankrupt you,” your fingers creep up his arms as his hands settle on your waist.

“Gut.”

No more words are shared, only base noises, keening cries, and the wet sounds of sloppy kisses.

Preemptive tags because I know how much these two people love König: @demothers-empty-blog @machveil

Masterlist

#cod #fanfiction #cod x reader #konig x female reader #konig call of duty #konig #konig cod #konig x reader #konig x you #lostintransit writing #lostintransit

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simspaghetti · 2 months ago

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Hello! I love your simblr and your stardew valley project. I have an idea for building up a town but I can't seem to find any empty large worlds. Do you have any reccomendations? Thanks!

Empty Worlds for Builders / Custom Save File Creation!

Hey lovely! Thank you so much 🥰🥰 I actually do have a few suggestions of some worlds that I've tried out & really adored

My best advice for building up your own world is to figure out the vibe of the town you want to build & plan out a few key characters / families and then go with one that best suits it - I tried building my SDV world about 5 times before I settled on my final save lol so don't be afraid to scrap it and start over if it's not feeling right, you can always save the lots / families to your library and plop them somewhere else!

Brightwater Bay by SimsOnTheRope

This one was so nearly the one I used as my basis for Stardew Valley because of the big river running down the middle, but I wound up thinking it was too big to work for my purposes, regardless it's a really beautiful world with a lot of nice set dressing and is worth looking at if you're wanting something similar!

Halley by NovaPark

The colour palette for this world is gorgeous! It's so lush and full of greenery and I also really like the road design - if I was gonna build a town in this world I'd probably use the big spring / waterfall in the middle as a big lore plot point (eg: maybe it has magical or special scientific use & its use employs a lot of the townsfolk?) so many opportunities for storytelling here!

Covington by Jackob

This one is a bit on the smaller side, but you have lots of room to place more lots if you do need more space - the scenery is lovely as well - there's a clear area for the town centre & city hall which is something I always like in empty world because it gives you some guidelines to go off of rather than starting totally from scratch planning-wise

Deery Meadows by MySimRealty

This one is a super nice standard residential world, it would be great for a costal / fishing town vibe because there is a lot of big lakes and abandoned boats scattered around, I also really like the road style in this world (something I'm pretty sure no one cares about other than me LOL they're just very aesthetically pleasing & look super clean)

Igginima by Cink's Sims

This one is one of my favourites for scenery but I haven't found quite the right use for it for my personal saves yet - it reminds me of a remote scottish island, and you get the impression there's a lot of lore here you can play with, there are a few pre-built community lots but they're mostly just for decoration and you can just delete them if you'd rather start from total scratch!

Southbridge by Sims3Time

This one has a really nice desert vibe if you're looking for something less green! (the other ones on this list are all quite similar so I wanted to give another more unique option)

Oakshore by Pleyita

This one is small as well but it has quite a few lots packed into the space which is why I thought I'd give it a mention! Would be great for a small-town suburban kinda vibe if that's what you're going for, it kinda reminds me of Sunset Valley

Storybrook County Lite by MySimRealty

This world is massive if that's what you're looking for! It's got an area for farmland and adjoins to a more industrial city part as well, a really great all-rounder if you're looking for a big project, I also love that it's got so much attention to detail with the different road types in the more rural areas and barns / hay bales scattered around the farming bits

Vintage Champs Les Sims by Franglish et Chocolat

This is the world I used for my SDV project so I'm sure you've checked it out already, but I have to give it a mention because the scenery & set dressing is some of the best I've ever seen, it's stunning, and I'm constantly discovering new details & little things for my sims to explore even after working in it for months

For more suggestions...

Shout out to this repository which is a fantastic resource for cataloguing old worlds, the blog isn't active anymore but there's a lot of worlds reblogged on there and it's well-organised into different categories, also mysimreality has quite a few empty worlds & this creator on MTS has emptied a few of the EA worlds if that takes your fancy!

I'd also thoroughly recommend checking out Mercury101's world scenery pictures, their blog is always a go-to for me when I'm looking for new world options as they have loads documented on there :)

Hope that's helpful! If anyone else has any other recommendations pls pop them in the comments - these are just the ones I've personally tested :D

#sims 3 world #sims scenery #Sims 3 #TS3 #Brightwater Bay #Simblr #Halley #Covington #Igginima #Southbridge #Oakshore #Vintage Champs Les Sims #Deery Meadows #Storybrook County #resources #wcif #replies

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amoromniaodium · 2 months ago

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Animal Kingdom

Andrew Pope Cody

Thank you all for reading the preview! I didn’t expect such a positive reaction to my writing. Your likes and comments have truly inspired me — I already have two more parts planned. Feel free to share your thoughts, whether good or bad. I always appreciate honest feedback.

We’ll be seeing more of the Cody family soon, but I wanted to give you some background on Pope and my character first.

Chapter 1

The Revival

—

When she was five, she witnessed something she’d only later come to recognize as bipolar disorder in her mother.

Her mother didn’t believe in medication. Said it made her too foggy, too far from herself. So she replaced prescriptions with “the good drugs.” And from then on, her daughter saw things no child should ever see — things done to her mother, things done by her mother.

By the age of ten, she was the unofficial head of the household. She cleaned, cooked, kept the apartment running. She stole — not because she liked it, but because it was the only way to survive. She lifted money from the men her mother brought home. Took soap, toothpaste, and pads from school. Stole lunches from bigger kids. She was a pro.

She loved her mother. Deeply. Enough to make sure she ate, drank water, showered. Enough to keep watch when her mother’s “friends” were over. She loved her even when she didn’t understand her — especially then. That’s where her obsession with psychology began.

She had seen people overdose. Seen how depression and addiction twisted people until they became unrecognizable. She didn’t judge. She watched. She asked questions. She wanted to understand. Needed to understand.

Her schoolwork improved. She started talking to the men who didn’t make her stomach twist. She made them feel seen. Safe. And in return, they opened up. She never gave advice. She just listened. By sixteen, she had done more emotional labor than most people do in a lifetime.

She read psych books from the library and used the tools they taught. Guided conversations, helped others find their own answers. She helped build relationships, and quietly helped end toxic ones, too.

They cried in front of her. Sat with her in silence. Let their rage unravel in the safety of her presence. And when her mother spiraled — manic or depressed — they were there. They helped her study. Helped her apply to university. Helped her celebrate when she got into med school on a partial scholarship.

And they were there when her mother overdosed.

In the quietest, darkest part of her chest, she was relieved.

She left. She studied. She was great at it — not just because she was smart, but because she understood. She could see pain before it was spoken. And she was determined to help fix both mind and body. That’s what led to her final rotation, at Folsom State Prison — and to the man who would change her completely.

⸻

Her first day at Folsom, she knew: this was not where she wanted to be.

Her attending was kind — as kind as one can be after decades in a place like this. He laid out the rules, the code, the expectations. Who to trust. What not to wear. How to walk, how to speak. He gave her a list of patients, diagnoses, medication routines.

That’s when she saw his name.

Andrew David Cody.

A massive dose of Thorazine. Enough to sedate rage. She didn’t meet the inmates until two weeks in.

And the moment she saw his eyes — dark, empty, emotionless — she should have known it wouldn’t end well.

⸻

There’s something to be said about leaving employment to return to school.

After her residency, she realized she didn’t want to be a prison psychiatrist. Not because she couldn’t handle it — but because she had no real power to help. She thought of a pair of eyes — dark, sad, and unblinking — and knew that wasn’t enough.

So she returned. Started a certificate in criminology, hoping to understand them better. But maybe it was something simpler than that: maybe she just didn’t want to grow up. Not yet.

Maybe she should work at a hospital in California. Maybe she should leave the country. Or maybe… maybe she should go back to her mother’s apartment. Let herself rot quietly, the way her mother had.

But then, walking out of class one evening, she saw him.

Not saw — felt.

A presence.

Straight-backed. Arms at his sides. Short sleeved shirt buttoned to the top like a priest.

And eyes — hawk-like, locked on her.

Andrew Cody.

But this time, for the first time since he’d been released, there was something new in his gaze.

A flicker of light in all that darkness.

⸻

There was something to say about the first time she saw him in months —it wasn’t fear that struck her. It was relief. A twisted kind of happiness.

Not about how he found her. Not how he knew where to look.

But because he was out. He had made parole.

Her first instinct, naive as it was, hoped he hadn’t gone back.

Not to that house. Not to her.

That maybe he’d gotten his own place, finally freed himself from the grip of that obsessive, broken mother — and the suffocating loyalty to his family.

But no.

She knew better.

Of course he hadn’t. They were the only thing he had ever known.

Letting go of them would be like letting go of oxygen.

She understood.

The only reason she ever left was because her mother was six feet under. These thoughts flickered and died the moment she saw him — standing there awkwardly, stiff as ever, eyes locked on her like always.

She moved toward him, not quite running, but not walking either.

Stopped just short of touching distance.

“Andrew!” she breathed. “You… you did it. Oh my God, I’m so happy for you. I knew you could do it.”

He didn’t say a word.

Just stared. But she saw it — the barest twitch of his mouth, a subtle lift of his brow.

He was happy to see her.

“How are you feeling? Have you seen your brothers?” she asked gently.

He replied, voice low. “Yes.”

She didn’t ask about his mother. She didn’t want to know. Didn’t want to open that door. Not yet.

So she reached for the first thing that surfaced — something safer.

“The fountain… did Baz ever finish it?” Her voice came out too light, too casual — even she could hear it.

But it was the only thing she could grab. He had once told her Baz promised to finish it while he was gone.

A flicker again — this time annoyance. A tilt of the head, the slightest grimace.

“No. I’m making it.”

So he was back there.

“Ah,” she said softly. “Well… I’m not really surprised. From what you told me about Baz…”

(From what your eyes told me. From what your silences said.)

“But it’s good, right? Keeps you busy. Keeps your mind quiet.”

He didn’t respond. Just stared.

“Right. Sorry… are you hungry? Want to grab something to eat?”

“I thought you were done with school,” he said.

“Yeah. I was. I don’t know —” she gave a nervous laugh, tugged at her sleeve, “—I guess I’m just not ready for the real world yet.”

He looked at her for a long moment. “I understand.”

“I know you do, Andrew,” she said gently. “Let’s go. There’s this Mexican place nearby — it’s amazing.”

She reached out instinctively, about to touch his arm — but paused.

He was watching her hand. Not with fear. Not quite with hope. Just a quiet, unreadable stillness. Like he wanted it more than anything but wouldn’t let himself show it.

There was something in his eyes — not pleading, but almost… waiting. The kind of stillness a child holds when something precious is near, afraid to move and scare it off.

She hesitated, her fingers curling slightly.

She knew how vulnerable he was in that moment. Knew what it meant — what it would mean — to touch him here, like this. There was desire under it, yes, but not sexual. Not yet. It felt more like comforting a child after a nightmare.

So she moved slowly.

When she finally took his hand, his fingers didn’t flinch. Didn’t tighten. Just rested there — solid, warm, resigned.

But he didn’t pull away.

And that was everything.

She led him forward, her grip light, his steps heavier — like he was trying not to fall into her.

#andrew cody #andrew pope cody #animal kingdom #animal kingdom fanfic #andrew cody x reader #Andrew Cody x Oc #andrew pope cody x reader #shawn hatosy #pope cody x oc #pope cody x reader #pope cody #obsession

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lovelycorallight · 2 months ago

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helping hands

ship: gideon gemstone x f!reader tags: smut, handjobs, established relationship, maybe some very light sacrilege wordcount: 1.1k notes: i finally watched trg and somehow his prodigal son ways and dirt bike tricks have charmed me. my first fic in a hot min... dusting off the rust with some church smut.

Sometimes, she really loved the church.

More specifically, she found herself growing fond of how absolutely massive it was. Usually, it felt like an endless maze, a constant parade of people she didn’t recognize and hallways that genuinely seemed to lead to nowhere. A dozen empty rooms that held unopened books or unused gifts, far too big to ever really become familiar with. It was imposing in a way, like navigating a brand new puzzle every time she walked through in the doors.

Gideon liked to say even he got lost sometimes, but that always felt like a courteous lie, made up once again to make her feel better about taking the same wrong turn for the third day that week. He never actually stumbled when he walked the halls; truthfully, he could name every half-empty library and coffee kiosk that sprung up. And he knew the names of every single employee that waved back at them with a bright smile, offering good morning, Mr. Gemstone in perfect unison, like they’d spent the morning rehearsing just for this.

(He always met the greeting with one of those sloping smiles, the kind that said he didn’t really like what was happening, but it seemed too much of a hassle to make it stop. Way too polite, even for the stained glass windows and the carved doors he lead them through.

And if she muttered Mr. Gemstone right into his ear, it only ever got an eye roll, or maybe a little shove against her hip, just to knock her off balance. Maybe a quick squeeze of her hand, nails digging sharp into her palm just before he let go.)

But her favorite rooms, the very best ones in the whole building, tended to hang right off the forgotten libraries and the half-empty corridors. The ones with slim doors and low watt bulbs, a handful of unused brooms shoved deep in the corner. Or maybe a stack of ancient pamphlets, print years dating back before either of them were born. Those kinds of rooms always stood open and empty, constantly available for a pre-service pep talk away from prying eyes.

Of course, this more than likely became a quick pre-service make out. Maybe even a brief pass over the clothes, sweaty fingers palming against her ass as they bunched the hem of her skirt higher.Or maybe, if they were both incredibly quick and miraculously quiet, and if she was eager to see the way his eyes rolled up to the sky when he muttered her name in that ragged kinda voice, just a little bit more. An extra special sort of pep talk.

Last time he’d been embarrassed, bright red even before she reached for his belt. But the experience must have changed some minds, because Gideon only huffed when she tugged on his zipper, the corners of his mouth struggling to stay down.

“You don’t have to,” he murmured, and even that was half-hearted. “C’mon, I’m… I’m just-“

She never found out. As soon as she brushed his cock, one finger running soft down the side. his teeth bit down roughly on his bottom lip.

“You’re what?” She teased, but there was barely a hum in response. Just his gaze flicking down between them, eyes falling shut when she wrapped a hand tight around him.

“I don’t know why you’re so nervous,” she offered. “You’ll do great. You’re always great.”

(Not really, not always, but it felt a little mean to bring that up right now. Gideon got too in his head about it all anyway, and then he’d start stumbling over words and mixing up his points. He was harder to put back together than to keep in one piece.)

“I’m not...Nervous,” he mumbled. “That’s- I’m not nervous.”

She could feel him jump in her hand with the slightest touch, a gentle squeeze and a slow slide down to the base, before he leaned close enough to bump her cheek with his nose.

“Okay, sure. You’re a bad liar, but sure.”

At least that earned a smile, his mouth pressing right below her ear when she repeated the action. Slow and steady, until the rhythm almost felt too much like teasing, and she gave a quick swirl across the tip, thumb already slick as she let it slide back down.

“Fuck, that’s-“

“Shhh!” She tried to cut off him with a kiss, but the word still seemed to finish in a moan. It echoed even in her mouth, vibrating when she slid his lips open, another futile attempt at keeping quiet. “Too loud.”

He nodded, yet the following groan managed to sound even noisier in the cramped space. “Oh, god-“

At least that one could blend in a little better.

“I’m serious, you gotta be quiet-“

“Sorry,” he mumbled, lips wet when they slid across her cheek, barely leaving a spotty, apologetic kiss. “Sorry, sorry.”

Even in the dark he looked flushed pink, color spreading out from the bridge of his nose. A mix of embarrassed and wanting and still whining half under his breath, sweaty fingers sliding down the back of her skirt.

She tried to speed up, if only to end the torture he seemed to be experiencing. He felt close, hands tightening and his body crowding her own, until she could feel the comfortable weight of his chest. Sandwiched between a warm body and the hard concrete behind them, and she didn't think she'd ever felt closer to the church than right in this moment.

“Fuck!"

Now that one had to be noticeable, even down the hall and back through the lobby.

“You’re unbelievable,” she murmured. "Do you ever listen to me?"

He went for another kiss in response, unable to offer much more than his open mouth against hers and a hot breath across her tongue. Sloppy and unpracticed, two things Gideon hated to be. She’d have pointed it out, called him desperate and watched how he blushed even deeper, but his hips jerked up into her hold, and the final curse hissed only into her skin.

It barely took a moment to clean up again; that was the good part about fooling around like teenagers, no mess that couldn't be fixed with a slightly dusty rag or a quick once-over. Back to work in a tight fifteen, like nobody would ever know.

The hallway was empty when they reemerged, a lonely janitor hanging around the corner as they passed by. He offered another good morning, Mr. Gemstone, and if Gideon's answer was a little too quick, or way too loud, they could blame it on the growing rush of footsteps pouring into the lobby.

"For the record, I listen to you all the time," he promised, and the smile seemed far less crooked when he turned back to show it off. "You have some really great ideas."

#gideon gemstone #gideon gemstone x reader #the righteous gemstones #fan fic #coral fic #this is so sweet for me... sickening #look at what the hbo comedy has done to me

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koojks · 4 months ago

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note: did someone say.. progess? LOL.. actually maybe i'm lying, but there's definitely a shift. i just love making things difficult . anyways this is my favourite part so far!! so i hope u enjoy :)

wc: 4.5k

The library is too bright.

Sunlight filters through the massive windows, stretching across the wooden tables, in long, golden streaks. The usual midday crowd is here. Groups huddled around textbooks, hushed voices discussing equations, and the rhythmic tapping of fingers against keyboards filling the space.

It’s louder than last time.

That night, it had been quiet, still, empty. There were no distractions. However, this time, it’s much busier, the atmosphere is different. But that’s not the problem.

The problem is him.

Jungkook is already here.

You’re not sure why, but the fact of it bothers you slightly.

Maybe it’s because you had counted on at least ten minutes of peace before he inevitably strolled in with some half-assed excuse for being late. That’s how it worked. That’s how it’s supposed to work. Maybe because it feels like a bit of a ‘fuck you’ call, to do this after last time, when he left you alone for almost an hour.

But, nonetheless. he’s here.

Sitting at the same table as before. Settled, sleeves pushed up, one arm stretched lazily over the back of a chair. His laptop open, notebook flipped to a page with actual notes on it. Pen twisting slowly between his fingers.

Like he’s been here.

Like he’s been waiting.

You don’t pause, you don’t let it show that it throws you off. Instead, you pull out the chair across from him. and drop into it unceremoniously.

“You’re early.”

Jungkook doesn’t hesitate. Doesn’t even look up at first.

“Or maybe you’re late.” he says, pen now tapping against his notebook.

Your eyes narrow at his response. “That’s a bold accusation for someone who could barely show up last session.”

That gets his attention.

He tilts his head slightly, finally glancing at you. The pen between his fingers, twirling once more before stopping entirely.

“People change.” He says simply.

You let out a scoff, opening your laptop. “Yeah? Since when?”

Jungkook shrugs, a small smile on his lips. “Since right now.”

You don’t dignify that with a response, choosing instead to pull up the project document and start working.

Jungkook doesn’t push it.

Which is weird.

Normally he’d drag things out. Argue simply to hear himself talk. Prove a point that never needed proving in the first place.

But today, he just exhales through his nose, clicks on the document, and begins writing once again.

You’re not sure what to do with that.

So, you don’t do anything at all.

You fall into a rhythm.

The scratching of pen against paper. The quiet, muted clacks of your keyboard. The weight of silence hanging between you. Not unbearable, but not exactly comfortable either.

Jungkook is actually working.

Which in itself is suspicious.

You keep waiting for something. For him to sigh dramatically, roll his eyes, complain.

But he doesn’t

Instead, he seems rather focused. His jaw tenses slightly when he reads through something. Playing with the piercing on his lip relentlessly. You notice his fingers tapping lightly against the table, before he crosses something out and rewrites it.

It’s almost more annoying than when he wasn’t trying at all.

Because at least when he’s an asshole, its predictable. You almost expect it from him. it’s become the not so pleasant dynamic between the both of you. Natural, almost.

Now? You don’t know what the hell to do with this.

The silence stretches.

But for some reason, your attention is situated on him.

Jungkook is sitting back now. Gaze trained on his laptop screen. His posture casual, like he’s barely paying attention, but his brows furrow slightly when he reads something. His sleeves are still pushed up high, exposing the veins running down his forearms, wrist flicking as he scribbles something in the margins of the notes.

It’s annoying.

He’s annoying.

“Stop staring.”

You blink. “Excuse me?”

Jungkook doesn’t even look up. “You’re staring.”

You roll your eyes. “I was just lost in thought.”

He hums, finally meeting your gaze. “Thinking about me?”

The words come out of his mouth so easily, so smoothly, that it barely registers at first. But something in the way he says it. expectant. certain. like its obvious, makes your lips part slightly before you shut your mouth again.

Because of course he thinks that.

Of course, he expects people to think about him.

Jungkook isn’t just anyone on campus, you know this. people know him. He’s popular, sought after. The type of guy whose name runs in passing conversations, whose presence automatically shifts the energy in a room.

And he knows it.

Which is probably why he’s looking at you like he’s right. Like he’s waiting for you to admit it. The realization hits.

And then, just as quickly, it pisses you off.

Jesus Christ.

“Don’t flatter yourself.” You mutter, shaking your head, diverting your attention to your laptop.” You’re insufferable.”

Jungkook grins, but something flickers behind his expression. It’s gone before you can process it. You don’t have time to dwell on it anyway. You don’t particularly care.

Instead, you both fall back into your work.

A while passes before Jungkook speaks again.

“You look exhausted.”

The words land softly, almost too casual, like he’s barely paying attention. But when you glance up, his eyes are already on you.

It makes you feel strange.

Your fingers hesitate over the keyboard before you sigh gently, shaking your head. “Long week.”

Jungkook doesn’t reply right away.

Instead, he leans back, stretching his arms over his head, before dropping them loosely by his sides. His jaw shifts, like he wants to say something else, but he doesn’t.

The silence feels endless until— “You should rest more.”

It’s so unexpected, so out of place, that your brain stutters for a second.

You blink “What?”

Jungkook shrugs and brings his attention back to his notes, breaking the eye contact you two shared, as if he said nothing at all. “Just saying, you’re zoning out.”

There’s nothing teasing in his tone. no smugness. no lazy amusement.

Just an observation.

Which somehow makes it worse.

You don’t reply. Just go back to your screen, ignoring the way your chest tightens slightly.

Not awkward. not tense.

Just... different.

Your focus is slipping.

It’s subtle at first. The words on your screen blur together, your fingers hesitate over your keyboard, eyes flickering towards the time in the corner of your laptop screen. You have no idea what the last thing you even typed was.

The last hour has bled into itself.

The steady rhythm of researching, analyzing, summarizing, feels excruciatingly repetitive now. Your neck aches faintly, your posture has collapsed slightly and there’s a dull hum in your brain that wasn’t there before.

You weren’t lying when you had told Jungkook it had been a long week. This project may have drained you mentally, sure. But class work was slowly piling up. and most nights had been an array of dark rooms and bright screens, ensuring you don’t fall behind in any subject. You were tired...

You flex your fingers, stretching them against the table.

Five seconds.

That’s all you need.

So, without really thinking about it, you grab your phone. It’s instinct, a small break, a way to reset before diving back into the mundane mess that is waiting for you.

But before you even unlock it, the screen lights up.

A message.

Taehyung: Jimin said you’re still at the library like a LOSER

Taehyung: hurry up, movie night. i already picked something none of you are gonna like

You exhale, unlocking your phone, thumbs hovering over the keyboard.

You: how does it feel being the most unbearable person I know

The response is almost immediate.

Taehyung: sexy of me tbh.

Taehyung: don’t take 500 years getting here. love u xoxo

You scoff quietly, shaking your head. what an idiot

It’s nothing urgent, just him being him. but your fingers move anyways, tapping out a reply. It’s supposed to be quick.

But then another text comes through.

And another.

And before you realize it, your focus has completely shifted.

“Having fun?”

The words cut through the silence, taking away from your distraction.

Your fingers pause over your phone screen before you look up.

Jungkook isn’t looking at you directly. His chin rests against his palm, elbow propped up on the table, gaze flickering lazily between his work and you.

Casual. Flat.

But seemingly annoyed.

You stare at him. “What?”

Jungkook nods towards your phone. “Are we done studying now hm? Should I start scrolling on twitter too?”

You scoff, locking your phone and placing it back on the table. “It was one message.”

“Right.” his pen rolls between his fingers. “Just one.”

You exhale sharply, crossing your arms and boring your eyes into his. “Not that it's any of your business.”

Jungkook doesn’t look impressed.

He also doesn’t look away.

Instead, his fingers tap once against the table before he speaks again.

“Just Taehyung?”

You nod slowly. “Yeah.”

Jungkook hums under his breath. “Figures.”

Your jaw clenches slightly at his passive comment. “What does that mean?”

He leans back in his chair, stretching his arms and biting at his lip ring once again. a small smile appearing on his face. His gaze flicks towards you- bored, amused.

“Should’ve expected this. Not like you have many other friends.”

Your jaw almost drops. What a dick.

“You are so annoying.”

Jungkook smirks. “Am I wrong?”

You glare. “Yes.”

“Alright.” He leans forward, arms resting on the table. “Name three.”

“Fuck you.”

Jungkook grins, bright smile showing. like he found the outmost joy in taking the piss out of you. “That’s the reaction of someone with exactly two friends.”

You consider throwing your pen at him. But before you can, your phone vibrates again.

You glance down. Another text from Taehyung.

Taehyung: Jimin's already on his way. u better be too

Jungkook notices. His smirk drops, barely. And then, like it’s nothing, he shifts once again in his chair.

“What’s so important that you’ve given up on studying anyways.”

You shrug. unlocking your screen again, all focus on your phone as you reply. “He invited me over for movie night.”

Jungkook pauses. Falters slightly. “...Ah.”

You look up at him. “What.”

Jungkook rolls his shoulders, eyes flickering to the window, staring intently at the trees. acting as unbothered as one possibly can. “Yeah. He mentioned something to me earlier. Thought it was just gonna be me and him.”

Something about the way he says it, makes you feel weird.

Not annoyance.

Not jealousy.

Just… something.

“He probably just forgot to tell you.”

Jungkook hums, clicking his pen a few times. “Yeah.” He mutters. “Guess so.”

The moment stretches too long before you decide to let it go.

The library has emptied out by the time you both start gathering your things. Pens clicking shut, laptops closing with a quiet snap, bags slung over shoulders. Jungkook moves slower than usual, like he’s almost not in a rush to leave.

Maybe you aren’t either.

Finally stepping outside, the air is colder than before, the sun is still out, barely, sky cloudy, thick with something unspoken.

Jungkook is already half a step ahead of you when he speaks.

“You need a ride?”

You pause. Almost falter. He says it so casually, that for a second, it didn’t even fully register in your brain. Or maybe it’s because why the fuck would he say that?

“You glance up at him, eyes trained on his face. “What?”

Jungkook exhales, as if he regrets this already. “A ride. To our place?”

You’re still processing this. You blink, thrown off. “You’re offering me a ride?”

Jungkook scoffs. “No. I’m asking you if you want to freeze.”

You hesitate. Not because you don’t want the lift. but because he’s the one offering.

A week ago, he hadn’t.

It was raining then, pouring actually. Much worse weather than it was today. Your backpack was literally soaked through. clothes clinging heavily to your skin, and Jungkook had barely spared you a glance before heading off that day, never mind a word.

And now, he was here, offering.

You shift on your feet. “Why?”

Jungkook looks at you, no emotion can be found behind his eyes, but he doesn’t break the contact you two share.

“Because I live there.” He mutters, adjusting the strap on his bag. “And I’d be kind of a dick to make you walk, especially since we are going to the same place. I’m not that awful you know.”

It’s casual. Thrown out like it’s an afterthought. But something about it sticks.

You suppose it’s better not to dwell on it, you’ve spent a lot of time with this man in the last week. Instead, you nod, messing with the rings on your fingers as a makeshift distraction. “Fine.”

Jungkook doesn’t respond, he nods slightly and continues walking to his car.

This time not ahead of you, but next to you.

The walk to his car feels longer, and it’s quiet. almost too quiet.

The air is slowly getting colder, crisp and sharp, slipping through the fabric of your jacket as the two of you make your way through the dimly lit parking lot. The sky has shifted a lot in a short amount of time. It’s now a deeper shade of blue, the last remnants of daylight stretching across the sky in streaks of orange and violet.

Jungkook doesn’t say anything, doesn’t glance at you, just unlocks the car with a silent click of his key, and takes himself to the driver's side like this is totally normal.

But it’s not normal.

Not for either of you.

Because despite sharing the same friend group, and spending several hours together for this group project, this is really the first time you’ve spent with each other truly alone. with no obligations. No one else is around, no distractions.

And that feels noticeable.

You hesitate briefly before opening the passenger door and sliding into the seat. The car smells clean, like leather, with something sharper underneath. Probably his cologne. It lingers enough to make you feel somewhat hyper aware of this unpredicted situation.

Jungkook doesn’t start the car right away. He takes his time, adjusts his seat, and shifts around slightly, fingers drumming softly against the steering wheel.

You get the feeling he’s waiting for you to do or say something first.

So, you pull out your phone. Deciding it’s the simplest way to avoid such an awkward situation. Scrolling mindlessly, pretending he’s not here.

The silence stretches. And for some strange reason he doesn’t put on music. Maybe he’s just focused, or maybe he’s equally aware of how strange this moment is.

You don’t really like the thought of that.

Jungkook exhales, sharp but quiet. “You always this easy to shut up?”

You glance at him. “You always this desperate to hear my voice?”

His jaw tenses, but he doesn’t take the bait. Rather, he finally starts the car, and the low rumble of the engine fills the silence between you two.

As he pulls out of the parking lot, the streetlights flicker one by one, illuminating the inside of the car softly. The passing headlights of other cars on the road cascade over Jungkook’s profile, enhancing the sharp outline of his jaw, the dim sparkle of his piercing, and the soft look in his eyes, as they flick between the road and the rearview mirror.

You’re not too sure why you notice. Or why you’re suddenly so aware of the way the lights move on his skin, shifting with each passing second. Maybe it’s because for once, he’s not being insufferable.

Or maybe it’s because you’ve never had the chance to look before.

Whatever the reason it, it weighs on you for a moment, it feels quite unsettling.

“You’re quieter when we’re not arguing.”

You blink, snapping out of it. “Huh?”

He doesn’t glance at you, just focuses intently on the road. “Feels weird. I think you’re more annoying when you’re silent.”

You scoff. “Maybe I just don’t have anything to say to you.”

“Yeah?” He lets out a quiet laugh. “That’s a first.”

His fingers drum idly against the gear shift. “You spend half of your time arguing with me. What? do you just pick and choose when to bite back?”

You roll your eyes. “I argue with you because you are so difficult with me.”

He smirks slightly, flicking on his turn signal. “Right.”

The silence that follows is different to the last. Less tense, but still not comfortable. Like something has shifted, and neither of you really know how to place it.

You turn toward the window, watching the city move past. The glow of the streetlights flash in and out of view, the scenery calming.

Jungkook exhales sharply through his nose. You’re too busy looking out of the window to think much of it. Until he speaks again

“You look better when you’re not scowling you know.”

Your fingers twitch.

It’s not a compliment. Not really.

But from the way he usually speaks to you? he basically sung your praise.

A second passes. Then another. You don’t say anything.

He clears his throat. “Not that I care or anything.”

You exhale a short laugh, shaking your head as you turn to look at him. “You’re so annoying.”

“Tragic for you.”

The weight of something lingers. You feel it in the quiet that follows once again, in the way the streetlights blur outside, in the way Jungkook’s fingers tighten around the steering wheel before he finally pulls into the street of his flat.

Neither of you speak when he parks.

That moment. Whatever it was. Ends.

Jungkook shuts off the engine, unbuckles his seatbelt, and steps out of his car without a word. You take a second longer before following.

The cold air outside does something to shake off whatever that drive was. Not entirely, but it seems to make you feel lighter.

Jungkook walks ahead to the apartment building, he doesn’t wait for you, but he doesn’t rush either. Just moves at his usual pace, knowing you’ll follow.

By the time you reach the door, he unlocks it, pushes it open, and steps aside without looking at you.

“Go ahead,” he says quietly.

You do.

And as soon as you step inside. As soon as the familiar scent of their apartment settles in your lungs, you come to realize. That shift that started in the car?

It followed you inside.

The apartment door clicks shut behind you, enclosing the warmth of the space. It’s The kind of warmth that is created by the energy of people who exist comfortably, peacefully.

The scent of something woody and citrusy lingers in the air, more than likely one of Taehyung’s candles that he has forgotten to blow out. The lighting is slow, softened by the faint blue glow of the TV screen, casting soft shadows across the room.

There’s a familiarity here. In a home that isn’t yours, but for some reason it just feels like it belongs to the people in it.

Taehyung is in the kitchen, stirring something lazily in a mug. Tea, you assume. His sleeves bunched up to his elbows. Jimin is draped across a couch. stretched out like he owns it, one arm thrown behind his head while he mindlessly scrolls on his phone. The two of them don’t look up immediately when you and Jungkook step inside.

Finally, Jimin glances up, gaze flicking between the two of you, his mouth slowly quirking into an amused smile.

“Oh, that’s cute.”

Jungkook doesn’t even entertain it.

He doesn’t pause, doesn’t react. just exhales loudly thought his nose and heads straight to the kitchen. opening the fridge and grabbing a bottle of water. Like he needs to do something to drown out this conversation.

Your brows furrow. “What is?”

Jimin gestures vaguely in your direction with his phone. “You guys showed up together.”

You blink. “We literally came from the same place.”

Taehyung hums, lifting his mug and taking a slow sip. “And now you’re arriving at the same place.”

Jimin nods. “Together.”

Jungkook exhales sharply from the kitchen, muttering something under his breath.

Taehyung just grins, setting down his mug on the counter. “Relax, we’re just making an observation.”

Jimin smirks. “Yeah, there’s no problem, right?”

You shake your head, ignoring them as you make your way towards the couch.

“I hate you both.”

Jimin lifts his hands in surrender. “And yet, here you are.”

The apartment settles into a peaceful rhythm.

The soft rustling of Taehyung flipping through movie choices. The occasional complaint from Jimin about every option. The background hum of the city filtering through the windows.

Jungkook is still in the kitchen, leaning against the counter, sipping his water like it’s giving him something to do. His presence isn’t loud. He’s always had this ability to take up space without really demanding attention, and for some reason, you feel it today.

Jimin stretches out on the floor now, crossing his arms behind his head as he watches Taehyung cycle through movies at a painfully slow pace.

Casually, without diverting his attention, he speaks up.

“You good man?”

Jungkook barely reacts.

Just shifts his weight slightly against the counter, his jaw tensing for a split second before he scoffs.

“What are you talking about.”

Jimin finally lifts his head, studying him for a second. Then shrugs. “Dunno. You just seem-”

Jungkook interrupts, exhaling and tilting his head back slightly. “I’m fine.”

Jimin's lips twitch. “Defensive.”

Jungkook doesn’t answer. Just takes another slow sip of his water, like he’s done with the conversation. But something about it lingers.

You sink into one on the couches, leaning slightly against the armrest. It’s comfortable, cozy. Everyone is settled in.

Besides Jungkook.

He eventually moves away from the kitchen, walking lazily towards the living room. However, you can’t help but feel what he’s doing is calculated. He doesn’t sit next to Jimin on the floor, you suppose he’d sit on the couch with Taehyung if he wasn’t outright lying across the whole thing.

But he sits next to you.

It’s not an event, it’s not a moment, but you recognize it. You feel it.

The apartment settles into silence as the movie begins, the glow of the screen covering the room in flickering shadows. It’s a thriller. Quiet, straightforward. The kind of film that thrives on tension rather than action. It’s quite boring, in all honesty. But you watch it, nonetheless, trying to make sense of whatever is happening on the screen.

You move slightly, adjusting into the cushions, letting the film pull your focus. Not paying much mind to what you’re doing really. And then it happens.

Not a deliberate movement. Not something intentional.

Just a shift.

A slow, unthinking action, as you attempted to settle more comfortably into your space. Except when you moved, your leg presses against Jungkook’s.

Not a graze, or a fleeting touch.

It settles there.

You can feel the warmth of his body seeping to yours. Neither of you move.

Not right away.

Not even when the moment stretches too long, to the point where it’s no longer an accidental touch. When the weight of it becomes something tangible, something felt.

Jungkook doesn’t tense. He doesn’t move away. He just...let's it exist.

And so do you.

For a second you tell yourself you’re imagining the heaviness of it. That if you really acknowledge it, like you are, then it will make it a thing, and neither of you are in the business of making things a thing.

You are so weirdly lost in the thought of it, until Jimin notices.

It’s not loud, not obnoxious.

Just a slow, downward glance. A flicker of recognition, before his lips curve upward, smirk barely concealed.

“Interesting.” he whispers.

Jungkook shifts.

And suddenly, the space made it enough to mean nothing.

The warmth lingers, for a moment. and neither of you so much as look in the direction of each other. But what just happened, felt like you acknowledged each other in a way that isn’t spoken with words.

The movie presses forward, progressing at a horrifically slow pace. But you aren’t following at all.

The atmosphere in the room feels weird. Though nothing has particularly happened to warrant it. It’s still the same dim lighting, the same quiet dialogue on screen, the same people sharing the same space. But something feels off.

Jungkook hasn’t moved much since shifting away earlier, but there’s something about the way he’s sitting now. It’s subtle, but there’s a quiet stiffness to his posture, and a tenseness in his hands where they rest awkwardly in his lap.

You all watch in silence, some more entertained than others. Until, his phone buzzes.

It’s quiet, hardly noticeable beneath the hum of the film, but you see it.

See the way his fingers tighten around the device, the way his gaze flickers down, almost intently, reading something that doesn’t change his expression, but does something.

It’s brief, the way his thumb swipes over the screen, but the glow of the notification illuminates long enough that you catch it.

A name.

One you don’t recognize.

But then again, why would you?

Because the second he registers it, he moves.

Jungkook exhales, sitting forward like he’s making this decision in real time, like he’s choosing his next action in a way that isn’t completely thought through.

He doesn’t make much of a scene. No explanation given. Just rises from the couch, too smooth, deliberate. almost practiced.

For a second, no one else reacts. You suppose This is something he does often by the lack of bother from Jimin and Taehyung.

Until Jimin finally glances up, a hint of what you can only assume is disgust in his face. His brows furrowing slightly. “Right now?”

Jungkook doesn’t make eye contact with anyone in the room, attention focused anywhere else. He just shrugs, fingers still curled around his phone, as he makes his way toward the door.

“Yeah.”

No details, no offer the clarify.

He picks up his keys from the counter, spinning them idly in his fingers before turning toward the door. And he’s gone before anyone can say anything else.

The door clicks shit behind him, cutting through the quiet of the apartment like a knife.

You exhale, shifting in your seat once again, almost like you’re trying to shake something off, something strange that feels like it’s lingering in the air.

It’s almost nothing, but it’s not. You continue watching the film, feeling just a bit unsettled.

The only issue being that you don’t know why.

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