#she knows some friends are a bad influence because not a single one of them would stop and think that ‘maybe we shouldn’t do this?’

[caitlynmeow]

Modern AU

Alcina doesn’t worry about Bela or Daniela going out with their friends but she is more cautious with Cassandra as in she has to know who she’s going out with where they’re going and what they’re doing because Cassandra and her friends can get into all sorts of trouble that often makes Alcina and the other two wonder how she ends up in these situations.

“We were hiking in the forest and we almost encountered skinwalkers. The sound kept getting closer and closer and we ran like crazy back to the car and drove off,”

“We accidentally got invited to a party that turned out to be a drug dealing hotspot. Like, people were dealing while getting a drink,”

“Elise tried to drive a manual car and we almost drove off of a cliff,”

“We had to hitchhike because we were stranded in the middle of nowhere with two dead phones and no signal,”

[screeching-bunny]

Yandere! Concubine Harem

Warnings: Obsessive Behavior, Yandere Thoughts, Bad Writing, Stalking, Possessive Behavior, Reader is Referred as ‘You’

Many people would call you crazy or insane but you didn’t care. You absolutely hated your life and the god forsaken family you were born into. If you could choose, you would have been born into a lesser family. It wasn’t always like this, in fact when you were younger you were last in line for the throne. It was due to the sabotage of greedy and jealous mothers that got all your half siblings and full blooded siblings murdered. Unfortunately, that meant that you were forced into the position of being the next heir and eventually the new ruler.

You could remember the moment you became heir, you were immediately bombarded with people trying to curry up your favor. You honestly hated it, everyone just felt superficial and it didn’t help that as you grew, so did your power. Even your childhood friends were not immune to this. Imagine your shock when your closest friend got up on one knee and asked for the chance to court you. Then your classmate, then your former brother’s friend, and etc.

You had barely even had a concept of what love was. From a very young age your mother was murdered and your father hardly ever paid that much attention to you as well. You were mostly alone in your own little world and you absolutely loved that. People always just seemed so annoying to you that you did the bare minimum in communicating with others.

You tried to remain single as long as possible but your father did not agree with this decision of yours. He’s always seen relationships and marriage as a way to get more influence from around the world. So at the age of twenty, you were officially given a concubine, a foreign princess from the East. She was clingy and whenever you talked to other people she seemed to always want to monopolize your attention. This behavior only seemed to get worse when your father caused you to take in concubines to gain various alliances.

Within your harem there was competition daily. Sons of generals who tried to show off with their strengths, princesses who tried to get your attention with their singing abilities, princes who would try to show off their archery, scholars who showed off their intelligence, etc. The list goes on and on. There was so much jealousy in your harem that it was unbelievable. It also didn’t help that everyone was always trying to kill each other. You were so sick and tired of it. All you wanted was some peace and quiet.

There were daily assassination attempts on concubines, poised drinks to make someone infertile, constant fake crying so that you could favor someone, and etc. Every single time you take in a new concubine you could always feel them seething but you always ignored it. You didn’t know why they loved you so much, hell you even told them if they ever wanted a divorce you would give it to them. Yet, no one has ever left willingly. It was as if they looked up to you as a god or something it was just so strange.

You’re favored concubines were of course, always thrilled to have your attention on them. They were usually the ones who got to sleep with you at night. Seems as a privilege as only the most loved got to do that. You, however, had to be careful sometimes because unwanted sexual advances could happen anytime in the bedroom.

If you feel in a particularly good mood that day however, you may even let one of them bathe with you. “Your majesty, your skin is silky smooth. I wish to do this with you forever. No words can express how I feel and how much I love you. Won’t you allow me to be your first husband?” Yeah, this was basically how most of your conversations went. Everyone wanted to have the first slot at being your husband or wife. It was the ultimate showcase to prove you loved them the most and was a definite power trip for those in the harem.

Going to bed everyday was like a minefield. You just don’t know who’s going to show up in your chambers. Most of the time it’s one of your concubines, that you allowed to sleep with you for the night, in provocative attire. “Your majesty, I’ve been feeling a little lonely lately. Won’t you please pay some attention to me?” It’s honestly crazy how there is no limit of what these guys wouldn’t do for you. They just seem so overly infatuated and obsessive.

No matter what you did to them, they would always seem to look at you with love and admiration. You could basically insult all of them and they would accept it with a ‘thank you’. Nothing you did, could ever make them hate you.

Bullying was an extreme issue in your harem. No matter where you went there were always green tea bitches, white lotuses, and cunning foxes trying to bring someone down in your eyes. It’s even worse if they're new, having barely any awareness of what is happening, they definitely need to be more careful. No matter where you go at least three of them are stuck to your side. You’re alone time is basically nonexistent and extinct.

With teary eyes one of your concubines shout, “My lord, please help me! I’m being bullied by the others in the harem!” If you were being honest, you absolutely did not care about what was going on and one hundred percent knew that she was just using a manipulation tactic. However, to avoid the incoming headache you begin to console her and tell her that you’ll have a talk with everyone. You then decide to give her what she wanted and guide her towards your bedroom chambers. As you both leave she quickly looks at the faces of the others and sticks her tounge out. There was a look of absolute rage on their faces and with that they all had the same unanimous thought in their head.

“I’m totally going to get that bitch back for this!!!”

Pt.2

[mothdruid]

All the Work

pairing: art donaldson x patrick zweig x afab!reader

summary: you are Art's tutor, Patrick is a bad influence and always crashes your tutor sessions. but today you're more than okay with it.

wc: 3.4k

warnings: 18+, smut, mdni, oral sex (female and male receiving), vaginal fingering, hand job, pet name (princess and baby), penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie.

a/n: finally! some challengers fic!! these two have moved into my brain and refuse to leave! I hope you all enjoy!! @gretagerwigsmuse here you go babes (this is barely proofread btw, so sorry)

When you offered to tutor Art Donaldson you thought that would be it. You hadn’t been expecting his nosy and obnoxious friend. They felt like polar opposites when you looked at them. The soft and reserved Art, who seemed to be careful about the words he said to you and texted you. But Patrick was careless and all consuming, a wildfire engulfing everything in it’s path. If Patrick was at the apartment while you were there no studying got done. Art would simply shrug and just offer a smile before joining Patrick in whatever nonsense he was doing.

Which was currently happening, both downing beers and watching animal planet.

Art and Patrick were on the couch, Patrick’s arm thrown over the back with Art leaning towards him but leaving a small amount of space between them. As much as you wanted to just call it quits and leave you didn’t, something kept you in the apartment, a gravitational pull of sorts. Instead you remained at the kitchen table, books and papers that you and Art abandoned still covering it.

You only started paying attention to the program about half way through. It was about mating rituals for some animals. Patrick had something to say about every single one, Art chiming in every now and then with a joke or to agree with Patrick.

“Can you imagine that shit?” Patrick took a swig of his beer, “Dancing around and putting on a show to get laid, that’d be embarrassing.”

Art chuckled at his comments. You simply rolled your eyes.

“Isn’t that what you guys already do?” You added.

“She speaks!” Patrick teased, turning around to face you.

His arm was still across the back of the couch, his bicep flexed a little. Art simply rolled his head back to try and look at you, blonde curls moving against his forehead. You looked at them, noticing something different in their gazes, something that made your insides churn and warm.

“Isn’t that what you two play tennis for? Look good and strong so people fawn over you?”

Art looked over and smiled at Patrick, who was currently putting on his best ‘deep in thought’ look. Patrick eventually clicked his tongue and gave you a boyish grin.

“Yeah, I guess it is. Right, Art?” Patrick looked over to Art, grin still wide.

“I- I don’t know if I’d say that,” Art murmured loud enough for you to hear it.

“Come on now, Artie,” Patrick took a drink of his beer, “tell the girl what she wants to hear. We play tennis for the ladies, not because we enjoy it or anything.”

There was a bite in Patrick’s voice that time, one that you blamed the beer for. Art was only on his second beer, but Patrick was probably on his fourth or fifth. You rolled your eyes once more, turning to try and focus on the assignments once more. You hated the way that Patrick was able to crawl under your skin, find that one spot that always got your anger bubbling. But then Art would be there later, when he walked you to your car apologizing, telling him that he won’t let it happen again, even if you know it’s a lie. When you peaked back at them Art was leaning into Patrick, who was whispering something into his ear. You looked away, not wanting to become more frustrated with the situation.

“Hey,” it was Art this time, “come sit with us, forget the homework.”

Art was practically hanging off the back of the couch now. His chest was pressed to the cushions, arms hanging out while making grabby hands towards you. Patrick’s arms were out of sight now, only his chin resting on the back of the couch. They seemed to have traded personalities at that moment, Patrick looking small while Art was begging for you. You stared at them for a moment, eventually letting out a huff and a ‘fine’.

Art and Patrick high fived while you were walking over. They scooted apart a little, leaving just enough space for you to fit between them. It wasn’t a lot of room, your thighs touching both Patrick and Art’s. Heat was radiating from them, seeping through your skin to melt and entangle with the heat forming in your body. The concoction was already intoxicating and you had only had a sip of their body heat, nothing more. Patrick slid an arm across the back of the couch, leaning in a little closer to you. Art cradled his can of beer in his lap, also leaning in a tiny amount closer to you.

“Can you imagine that?” Patrick’s voice got low.

The program that was on had started talking about animals who had a more carefree mating style. Hyenas, Bonobos, and many others. Animals who engaged in polygamy and more. It was currently talking about the Bonobo, a primate that happily engaged in orgies, threesomes, and even more at times.

“I’m not sure,” you started, “it seems like a lot of work.”

The concoction of heat was rising up through your body. Patrick looked at you with a little smirk, not a devilish one like he normally did. Art’s hand grazed your thigh, grabbing your attention from Patrick. All your annoyance from before had melted away when you saw Art’s eyes. There was only a small ring of blue around his blown out pupils. The back of his fingers continued to ghost over the material of your leggings, maintaining eye contact with you the entire time. It was trance like, hypnotic blue eyes with the rhythm of his fingers. The heat of Patrick’s breath ghosted over your neck now. You weren’t sure when he had moved your hair to expose your skin.

“What if we did all the work instead?”

When you turned to Patrick his nose grazed your cheek, lips incredibly close to yours. You could barely make out the color of his eyes with him this close, a glimpse of a bluish green color was all you could make out. One of his hands drifted up your shoulder, his fingertips ghosting up in a similar manner to Art’s but along your neck. Patrick’s touch was scalding hot, turning that bubbling heat inside of you into something more explosive.

The kiss was sloppy, Patrick’s tongue pushing past your lips immediately. You could taste the cheap beer and a hint of cigarette on his tongue. His hand cupped the side of your face as the rhythm continued. You leaned a little further into Patrick, his free hand moving to cup your chest. Your right hand grabbed at Patrick’s thigh, needing to ground yourself in the smallest amount. At the same time, Art’s hand started to knead the meat of your thigh, gently guiding your thighs open at the same time.

A whimper left you, Patrick consuming and silencing it. Art’s hand had found the apex of your thighs, rubbing against your clothed cunt. The sensation spurred you to kiss Patrick with a bit more force, your breast pressing tightly into Patrick’s hand. Art continued to send muted waves of pleasure with each roll of his wrist. Your hips started rolling to meet Art’s movements, wanting more and more. You broke away from Patrick, turning to meet Art’s gaze again.

“Art,” you whimpered.

Patrick had already attached himself to your neck, eyes watching the two of you. You reached out with your left hand for Art, him immediately moving forward to meet it. Your lips collided with Art’s while you wrapped your arm around his shoulders. Your other hand had found its way into Patrick’s dark curls, tugging lightly as you let him continue to lap at your skin. Your body moved in tandem with the two of them.

Patrick moved a little behind you to let your back meet his chest fully. The hand you had in his hair slipped down to the hand kneading your chest, covering it and mimicking his motions. Patrick’s other hand moved down the side of your body, pulling up the hem of your shirt to expose some skin for both him and Art. The hand between your thighs moved up, fingertips grazed your skin. Patrick’s hand left your breast, fully grabbing your shirt and pulling it further up your torso. That was when the kiss broke. Art’s lips slightly agape as he stared at you, eyes flicking between you and Patrick.

“This okay?” Patrick whispered, pulling your shirt further up.

Art’s fingers spread over your skin, eyes trained on you. You kept your eyes locked with Art’s as you grabbed both of Patrick’s hands, guiding your shirt up further and exposing your bralette to them. Patrick chuckled and finally rid you of your shirt completely. After tossing your shirt to the side, Patrick cupped both of your breasts and tugged on your nipples over the material. A moan escaped you at the sensation of the flimsy material pinching into your nipples under Patrick’s fingers.

“That’s it, let it out,” Art encouraged.

You pushed against Patrick’s grip again, arching your back and pushing your ass back into his hardening cock. You hadn’t realized the feeling of his cock on your lower back and ass immediately, having been so caught up in your own pleasure. Patrick let out a groan when he felt you grind your ass back into him. Art’s cheeks were flushed as he sat there and watched the two of you.

“Fuck,” Art groaned. He grabbed at his own hardened cock, jerking himself off over his shorts.

Patrick’s lips grazed the skin of your shoulder for a moment, only for him to bite the strap of your bralette and guide it down your shoulder. The hand for that mesh cup pulled it down, exposing your tit fully. Art’s mouth was on your tit immediately, tongue caressing and flicking your hardened nipple. Moans fell from your lips, Patrick’s cheek on your shoulder as he watched Art and guided your other bralette strap down.

Blue eyes were staring up at you, or maybe they were looking at Patrick. As you watched Art lav at your sensitive bud, Patrick’s hand came around to thread through Art’s hair, tugging lightly on the blonde curls and earning a moan from him. The vibrations from Art’s moans went straight to your cunt, making it flex and tighten to nothing more than the simple sensation and sounds.

“Look at you two,” Patrick groaned, “so fucking hot.” With those words Patrick tugged on Art’s hair a little rougher and pinched your free nipple.

Art let out a whimper that time, not expecting such a harsh tug that time. You brought one hand up to Art’s hair, covering Patrick’s with your own. Slowly your hand drifted down and rested on Patrick’s wrist. After giving a quick squeeze you started guiding it down the side of Art's neck, eventually pulling it towards your center. Patrick got the hint and chuckled.

“Use your words,” Patrick growled into your skin.

“Touch me,” you whimpered out.

“Where?” Art murmured against your tit.

That’s when you felt Art’s fingers dip below the sides of your waistband.

“Touch my pussy.”

“That’s it,” Art smiled at you and started to remove your leggings and underwear.

As soon as you were bare Patrick’s fingers dove between the lips of your cunt, finding your clit immediately. Art finished removing the fabric from your ankles and pushed your legs apart, bending down to press kisses to the inside of your thighs. Art was trailing up the inside of your thighs, Patrick’s fingers continuing the movements on your clit. Both of their names were starting to fall from your lips, a gasp coming from you when you felt Art’s tongue drag over your slick cunt and roam around Patrick’s fingers. Patrick moved his hand from your tit to your hip, trying to keep you from bucking too wildly. Art’s hands slipped around your legs, keeping you even more in place for him to lick at you.

“Fuck,” Patrick groaned while rolling his hips into your ass.

Art’s tongue slipped below your clit, pushing into your entrance and lapping at the juices flowing from your. The two of them sat there worshiping you in tandem. It wasn’t long before you were falling apart for them, coming on Art’s tongue and Patrick’s fingers. Patrick stayed circling on your clit for a moment, slowly drifting lower through your folds to meet Art’s mouth. You watched with shaky breath as Patrick pushed his glistening fingers into Art’s mouth. Art groaned around them, keeping them in his mouth as Patrick guided Art back up to the both of you.

Art’s mouth was glistening when he came back up to the two of you. Your chest was still heaving, trying to regulate itself after an orgasm of such magnitude. The both of them had taken notice of that, meeting each other’s lips instead of yours. You laid there resting against Patrick’s chest as you watched them make out. It was messy, Patrick’s tongue diving into Art’s mouth to taste you. They were both moaning and groaning over your taste.

You let out a whimper to let them know that you were ready for them. It caught Art’s attention, him breaking the kiss with Patrick. Patrick didn’t let up though, trailing open mouthed kisses down Art’s jawline and neck. Art brought a hand up to your cheek and pulled you forward meeting his lips and letting you taste what was left of you on his tongue.

Patrick leaned back from the two of you for a moment, pulling off his own shirt and then finally unclasping your bra. Once both were removed he pressed his bare chest to your back. You rolled your hips back into his while reaching forward and cupping Art through his gym shorts. Patrick mouthed at your neck and shoulder, hand coming around to rub at your sensitive clit.

“I need your mouth,” Art groaned into your mouth.

You pushed up off of Patrick and moved to lay Art back against the couch. Art started taking off his shorts and boxers before your fingers even moved to the wrist band, signaling how eager he truly was for this.

His cock was prettier than you imagined, a sparse amount of sandy blonde hair framing it. You cupped his balls first, rolling them lightly and listening to his groans. You helped position Art’s legs on either side of your knees, making it easier to bend over and take him in your mouth. Art gasped the first time he felt your tongue on the soft skin of the head of his cock. You kept rolling his balls in your hand and you took him further into your mouth. Patrick could be heard moving around on the couch behind you. That’s when you felt the tip of his cock at your entrance and hands on your hips. With a moan you pushed your hips back, an urge to get Patrick to fuck you.

It was an overwhelming sensation for a moment. The thickness of Patrick’s cock was splitting you open, all while Art’s cock was heavy on your tongue. Art groaned as you took him deep into your throat unexpectedly, the tightness of your throat spurring him to thrust up a little. You moaned around him as Patrick pulled back for a moment, only to thrust forward with force. Patrick’s thrusts were pushing you further and further forward onto Art’s cock. Small gagging and gurgling noises started to come from you, drool forming around your lips. Art’s hand moved to your hair and tugged you off him for a moment.

“So fucking greedy,” Art growled. He gripped his cock by the base and tapped it on your tongue, which you happily held out for him.

“Greedy is right,” Patrick thrust a little harsh, “her pussy is so fucking tight, meant for this.”

Art guided you back onto his cock. You moaned at the taste of him on your tongue once again.

“Wanna fuck that pussy too,” Art thrust up into your mouth as he spoke.

Patrick let out a cross between a whimper and groan before he pulled out. A hand moved from your hip to the back of your neck, tightening and pulling you up off Art’s cock.

“Go on, princess, let Art fuck that pussy.”

Even though you were more than happy to be in the position you were in, that pet didn’t send thrills through you. You shot a dirty look to Patrick over your shoulder, earning that devilish smirk from him. Patrick leaned closer and pressed a gentle kiss to your shoulder.

“Go on, baby,” Patrick whispered to you.

Art was lightly pumping his cock when you looked back at him. A rosy flush was covering from his cheeks to his chest, which matched the red tint that his waiting cock had. You moved your legs on either side of him, planting one on the floor due to lack of room on the couch. There was barely any time to line Art up, his neediness getting the better of him. Within mere seconds of positioning yourself above him he was thrusting up into you. Art didn’t have the same girth as Patrick, but his cock still felt heavenly inside of you. And he didn’t let up.

Thrust after thrust you were a moaning mess above Art. Your hands were scrambling to find purchase on his chest. Each thrust was hitting that perfect spot inside of you. The leg that you hand on the ground was starting to shake, the ability to balance starting to allude you. Patrick moved up behind you, snaking his hands under your shaking legs. Patrick used some of his strength to take on some of your weight, allowing you to relax a little.

“Fuck!” Art groaned as you felt his abdomen tense below your touch.

Art pushed his hips tightly to where you were connected, rutting desperately to feel closer. Hot cum filled your insides, your walls clenching tightly around Art. You could feel that Patrick was still hard against your ass, reminding you of what was still to come. Art’s breath was coating your chest as you leaned over him, pressing a kiss to his forehead. During that motion Art’s cock slipped out of you, to which was quickly replaced by Patrick’s.

Patrick’s grip was tight on your hips, almost as tight as your cunt on his cock. Patrick groaned as he watched his best friend’s cum leak out of you and coat his dick. You could barely hold yourself up anymore, Art letting you rest on his chest. Patrick leaned over you, his chest covering your back once more. His thrusts were starting to become more harsh and forceful. He pressed a few kisses to your shoulder before leaning forward and meeting Art’s lips once more. After a few more thrusts both you and Patrick were coming.

The three of you laid there in a pile for a while. Patrick was softening inside of you, but still keeping both his and Art’s cum safe in you while placing kisses on your shoulder. Art was running a hand up and down Patrick’s shoulder and back. You were trailing your fingers around on Art’s chest. The program on TV had changed by that time, now showing something shark related.

Patrick hesitantly moved his hips, his dick slipping out of you. A shuddering breath left you at the feeling of their cum starting to drip out of you. You didn’t even move when you felt a shifting on the couch cushion, Patrick getting up to track down a washcloth. It felt relaxing to actually just lay there against Art, finally not having to fully focus on anything.

When Patrick returned he cleaned you up as gently as he could, or at least that was what he claimed. Art pressed a kiss to your forehead before you got up, swiping the wash cloth from Patrick. After cleaning yourself you softly wiped Art’s cock clean, then turned and cleaned Patrick’s too. Patrick stole the washcloth and took it to the bathroom again, returning to find you and Art still in the nude and cuddling in the same position. Patrick simply moved into his former position with his chest to your back. Patrick tossed the old knit blanket on the back of the couch over the three of you. All of you just watched the shark program in silence for a moment, Patrick breaking the silence.

“Hope that wasn’t too much work,” he said quietly.

Art let of a huff of amusement.

“Not when it’s the two of you.”

[gallusrostromegalus]

Since you're at the doctor's, medical headcanons. Who's afraid of needles, who's the biggest baby when sick, who insists that everyone just let them die, etc. etc.

Short answer before long one bc I have to drive but:

They're all deep, deep into the morass of the horrors and miracles of The Flesh.

---

The Karakura kids are weird because Ichigo's dad is an emergency trauma doctor and Ichigo's family loves above the clinic. Any time his friends come over there's a round of "so what wild shit happened in the ER since last time?"

(continued under the cut)

Uryuu's dad is also a surgeon, and the thing that gets him and Ichigo back on speaking terms again is more or less second-hand shop talk.

Orihime has been obsessed with emergency medicine since her brother died. She wanted to know what she should have done, and can do so it won't happen again.

Keigo has been carrying a first aid kit in his backpack since he became friends with Ichigo and Tatsuki in middle school. He's got an exceptional talent for patching someone up enough to get through English class without the teacher noticing the injuries after a lunchtime brawl.

Tatsuki started peeking over Orihime's shoulder at her notes on joint trauma and developed a talent for targeting her kicks and punches to deal maximum damage in karate tournaments.

Mizurio knows a suspicious amount about neurology and how pain works because his "uncles" keep telling him about techniques used by enforcers to extract payment or information.

Chad got heavily into Oxacan folk medicine because once he stopped getting in fights, he needed something else to occupy him, and his abuela decided to teach him how to cook. There is not a huge difference between good food and good medicine. He has an encyclopedic knowledge of chemoreactive plants and chemistry you can do on a stove.

Every single one of the Karakura kids has had something medical happen to them or a loved one, and every single one is now peering into the mysteries of the flesh about it.

---

The shinigami are worse.

Shinigami broadly have better physical resistance, esp because they're reaping the injury stabilizing benefits Senjumaru wove into the Shinigami Shushako.

But they live in a feudal society that has only SOME of the benefits of modern medicine, and the few instances of disease-mitigating infrastructure are far between. It's COMMON for the souls of the rukongai and Seireitei alike to have a sibling who died in infancy or a parent who died in child birth or of an infection.

Societally, they are still in the very earliest phases of the war against pestilence and it gives one a very warped perspective on all things medical. Especially if you happen to be in the immediate sphere of influence of soul society's greatest warrior against death:

Retsu Unohana.

I cannot overstate the impact this woman has had, and you don't do things like "decimate the nationwide infant mortality rate" or "pioneer organ transplant surgery" without being a bit mad, and she has lived so long and done so much that the madness has clarified into a single extremely dense point of determination and she warps the reality of those around her. Woe and Blessings alike to those within her event horizon.

---

The Arrancar are even worse.

Hollow resilience to injury allows them to body much, much worse injuries than the humans and it has an impact on etiquette. Biting off a hand because someone won't stop bothering you is a normal way to establish a boundary. Limb loss and regrowth is common, and disembowelment about as serious as a bad cold.

The food situation is even more dire. Smaller hollows, ones that used to be plants or animals or human-hollows who have a modicum of self control are weak, but lucky. They can survive off the ambient reiatsu in the atmosphere of Hueco Mundo, or the naturally cleaving fragments of soul that fall off the living.

Everyone else needs to hunt. And the more powerful a hollow becomes, the more it needs to consume, and the richer it's prey must be. The only really rich souls are other sapient beings. Any hollow at the level of Shrieker or Grand Fisher or higher is trapped in a hellish metabolic cycle of cannibalism, and the only way out is through.

The primary killer of hollows is other hollows. They know what they're doing. They're looking their fellow beings in the eye, the ones who understand them best, and deciding that their own life is worth their friend's. For all their ability to handle the slings and arrows of physical trauma, hollows are worse at handling the emotional consequences of this cycle. Monstrous Egotism is a best case scenario for them.

In practice, this means that while it's perfectly acceptable to bite someone's hand off for annoying you, it would be rude of you to spit it back at them. At least eat it!

I realize this last bit is not, strictly speaking, medical, but you can see how the ability to survive being turned into an anatomical Venus and having to live on a diet of the flesh of others would completely recontextualize how hollows think about Illness.

---

I will do the fun individual headcanons when I get home, but this is a good broader framework to consider for now.

[jadienjaystoriesandart]

I’m tempted to write a sit com style of Limited Life.

It follows the Clockers, a family of a single mom, Cleo Clocker, and her two sons (who we think are adopted) Scar and Bdubs Clocker (who we also swear that those aren’t their real names).

The local biker gang, Bad Boys, Grian, Joel, and Jimmy (who we aren’t sure are related but people speculate Jimmy and Grian are. And that Joel has a wife we don’t see)

The neighbors, Pearl and BigB (of which we think Pearl is Grian’s sister but isn’t confirmed. And is dating BigB to piss off her brother.) who are very nosey and tend to get involved in the family drama because of this.

Their absent dad, Etho Slab (Formerly Clocker), as he causes problems in the families life trying to ‘reconnect’ with his sons. And running a bar with his old college buddies Tango, Skizz, and Impulse. (We think they are in a poly or something. But none of them are straight.)

And the two resort owners, Scott and Martin, well ‘resort’ is an Airbnb they rent out and make great money with. (We think they are in a relationship (?), but Scott acts weird around Jimmy, and Martyn seems to have some weird trauma around Cleo. We aren’t sure why, but something happened.)l

Noted Plot points.

- Grian and Scar used to be a couple when teens, and Grian cheated on Scar with BigB.

- BigB was under the assumption that Scar was into this, and has tried to get Grian to do a threesome.

- Pearl is ‘dating’ BigB because both want to make Grian jealous. (It’s working)

- Scar still has feelings for Grian but also hates his guts. Several times through the series they have hate sex.

- Bdubs has some ‘dad’ trauma. And constantly looking for Etho’s approval.

- Etho only ever liked Bdubs and doesn’t like his eldest son Scar. He thinks Cleo had an affair. (Fans speculate that Scar is adopted)

- Fans speculate Joel has a secret wife that he hides form the Bad Boys and her name is Lizzie. They think she’s Pearl’s best friend or former girlfriend before she got with Joel.

- Gem is Cleo’s girlfriend in this, but people seem to think she’s Cleo’s sister which is confusing as to why.

- Renchanting is a closed down shop after Ren broke up with Martyn and left for a different city.

- The place takes place on a costal town a few miles away from a city. So Beach shenanigans (And Scar in a tight swimsu-)

- Jimmy is always having doubts of being a Bad Boy and seems to have a crush on Tango. (Fans love the angst for this shit).

- Bdubs and Scar have a great brotherly relationship even if they don’t see eye to eye.

- Tango, Impulse, and Skizz all keep trying to get Etho to ‘man up’ and actually be there for his kids. (Or at least Bdubs, Scar is doing fine on his own it seems). While also being bad influences on him for ways he can get Cleo to not hate him.

- they also own a tie shop business on the side of their bar. And no one knows why.

- Fans speculate the family is in a gang or mafia, but aren’t sure what. There is little evidence but it is scary how this little bit shows a darker picture.

- fans also speculate both Scar and Bdubs aren’t Cleo’s or Etho’s kids due to the stupid always changing their ages. Hence the mafia theory.

- both Scar and Bdubs are whores, and so is everyone else. I don’t make the rules.

-0-0-0-0-

This is about all I got for now. But if I come up with more ideas, I’ll let you know.

[screechingsandwichtriumph]

Platonic yandere avengers x reader x romantic yandere peter parker

Idek how to begin this so beware unlucky readers

Summary: you are an idol ,you are an avenger. How can they not be slightly a little bit protective of you

Warnings: yandere themes , stalking, obsession, fighting, blood , I think this is it

Also this will include(I'm sorry I didn't exactly do the like main six or whatever) Tony , Steve , Bucky , Clint , Natasha , Wanda , Peter

This is longer than I expected and I kinda don't like it but here it is in its full glory<3

When you joined the team , they blamed their protectiveness over you to your personality

I mean you are so cute and look so innocent , how can they not want to protect you ?

Tony had totally not hacked into every single account that you own / have owned in your life and he absolutely hasn't researcher your dad's Facebook to find childhood pictures of you. And he surely didn't print those out and handed then around in the team. Also expect to be spoilt rotten. Complained once about a stain on your favorite jacket? Have three more of the exact same just in case

Steve claimed to need specifically your help to understand how to operate anything mechanical ad expect to have a lot of movie marathons. He will read you before you sleep even though you are not a child anymore because ' he just liked when he is reading out loud'

Bucky would be the type of person to dig in deep in your life. He wouldn't stalk you specifically. That is tasked to someone else. No . He would stalk Al your friends and all your exes and highschool teachers.ad if he had to he would accidentally make some of them he consider bad influences disappear

Clint along with Natasha are your stalkers

Clint will always be hidden close by in case you need help with something (like , idk someone dead?) and my man could literally enter your home , casually look around a bit , stare at your decorations , and be out without you even realizing he was never there

Natasha on the other hand isn't so subtle. You could easily spot her on the other end of the street wearing sunglasses and staring at you intensely. Once you were in a bookstore admiring some books and stationary that you did not buy and the next day they were at your door with a little note that said ' saw them and they reminded me of you - Natasha ' as if you hadn't seen her looking at you. It isn't even that she is stupid . She just doesn't care

Wanda practically lived at your head at this point knowing things about you , you were barely aware of. Like , what do you mean you can't remember that one time you went snowboarding and fell? What do you mean how she knows that story and that you never told her? Of course you did silly!

Peter now was clearly in live with you and the first to meet you and get obsessed over you. When after some time he went to Tony and told him about his feelings , Tony supported his feelings to the max since this could be beneficial for all of them. Peter would never leave , they trusted him and he could keep you close.

Now you seem like a soft baby that needs protection from everyone ands that's mainly due to the way you present yourself and act. You have the most bubbly soft personality and everyone loves that

Being an idol , and an avenger was a dream come true for you , so when you had a big show and gave to them tickets to come see you they of course came( Tony almost bought all tha tickets so it could be only you but Steve stopped him)

Heating a music so fitting to your aesthetic it was like they fell in love (platonically and romantically for Peter) all over again. You are just so sweet and cute

Then a day came where an attack happened in new York and all of you jumped to action. They had no time to stop you from going to battle or even think about doing it really. The only think they could do was act.

Now , your powers were so incredibly powerful that they never thought you would have to fight face to face with someone. But they were terrible wrong

Once the fight was over they all spotted you on the corner of a building with bloody fists and a small trail of blood staining your pretty pink costume. A fan of yours was there asking you to take a picture . You kindly smiled at the camera revealing a set of bloody teeth.

Your fan seemed super excited at that and almost yelled out in joy. You bid her goodbye and went towards the group of your shocked friends

They all just stared at you in an unusually bloody shape , that somehow seemed fitting (?)

Later on they were shown a video of you with a bunch of people , that you were brutally fighting with . They were all left to shreds when you left your head held high.( Peter was even more into you after that)

Asks are always open<3

[jananakookie]

Rumor Has It | pjm - Chapter 7

💬 Pairing: Jimin x OC (Reader)

💬 Genre/Tags: enemies(?) to lovers, fake-dating au; angst, fluff, smut

💬 Chapter warnings: swearing, almost? physical fight, angst, contains sexual themes! fingering, nipple play, protected sex

💬 Word count: 11.3k

💬 Recap:

Rumor has it, Park Jimin is single again after his latest girlfriend cheated on him with his best friend.

Rumor has it, he's willing to get back at them.

Rumor has it, you're the perfect means to an end.

Previous Chapter - Index - Next Chapter

short notice: Please let me know if you don't want to be tagged anymore. Since I've been away for over a year, I could really understand that. Don't wanna bother anyone!

If you're still here pls leave feedback and a reblog? x

Chapter 7: There's something in the water.

All eyes are on you as you stroll down the hallway with two cups of coffee in one hand and a paper bag with breakfast in the other, gradually trying to find your destined room while also desperately trying to block out curious gazes. 

Getting stared at is nothing new for you, but this time it feels a little more personal since you don’t think you have ever been in this part of the building before. You never really had a reason to visit the dance department until now.

Today marks another new experience because you suddenly woke up this morning with the urge to surprise Jimin and be the one to make the first step toward him instead of letting him do all the work. 

Your little heart-to-heart the other day opened your eyes and let you see him in a different light. It made you think that maybe - just maybe, he is not the enemy. Perhaps he is just some guy, trying to get along and make things easier for the both of you and maybe it is your turn to do something nice for him for a change. 

The first thing that came to your mind was surprising him with his favorite coffee (and your presence) right after practice, which is why you went to the dance department for the first time today. 

You spot Jimin in a room at the end of the hallway, after nervously walking around and praying to find him as soon as possible. It looks like he’s still going over some moves whereas most other people are already departing. But as you get closer you see that there's someone else with him. 

You don't know her name but think you've seen her around before. Was it with Nayeon? Or one of Jimin's guy friends? Wherever you saw her before, you're sure she's in Jimin's friend group whatsoever. 

From your point of view, it looks like he's showing her how to get some moves done, and you don't want to interrupt their practice session so you decide to wait at the door until they're done even if that means that you are exposed to the torture of other people's vile looks for even longer.

Today is the first time you see Jimin dance and even if your opinion is perhaps influenced by your untrained eye and therefore doesn't say much, you must admit that he's insanely talented. The way he moves makes it look so easy even though you could never do it like that.

The girl is pretty good Aparrentlytoo, but you can't take your eyes off Jimin. He has something about him that attracts people's attention. You were already aware of that before, but he seems to be having it in everything he does.

A few steps later, just as it looks like she's about to jump into his arms, she suddenly stumbles and... falls into his arms anyway, albeit not very gracefully.

Jimin's quick reflexes have probably just spared her face a collision with the ground and you are glad nothing else has happened. But after she holds on to him for just a tad bit too long and presses her face into his chest to hide her sheepish giggles, you can't help but roll your eyes in annoyance.

“Bad timing?” you almost shock yourself with how unexpectedly loud your voice echoes through the room as you stomp right in and judging by how quickly Jimin turns around to face you, with wide eyes, you’re not the only one. 

You send him a shy grin, suddenly feeling stupid for coming here unannounced and interrupting their practice when you’ve never done that before. What the heck were you thinking?

Jimin wastes no time coming over to you, wearing a big smile on his lips, but his expression still looks confused. "Am I dreaming, or did you leave your place to come visit me here," his gaze quickly wavering to your hands, "and bring me coffee?" he asks, raising a brow.

“What makes you think I’m here for you?” You sass, a little irritated, even though you can’t blame him. This is a pretty unusual situation after all. 

“Right, I’m sorry. I just assumed since I’m the one you asked if it’s bad timing, which it isn’t, by the way,” Jimin laughs.

You roll your eyes, gradually taking one of the coffee cups out of the cup carrier and holding it out for him to take, which he immediately does, smiling brightly as if you gave him a cup of gold instead. 

“Thank you, seriously. I overslept today so I didn’t get the chance to have one before class,” he tells you, quickly taking a sip from his cup and moaning in delight. “I could kiss you right now, but I'm too scared of the reason you're here so please do it quickly. Like... ripping off a Band-Aid. What happened?”

“You’re acting like I didn’t make cupcakes for you and went out of my way to even draw your face on one of them before!” You scoff, feeling a little offended. Unbelievable.

“When you tried to poison me?”

“It’s the thought that counts,” you shrug. “Nothing happened. I just wanted coffee and thought you would too. And you tend to skip breakfast when you have practice but if you don’t want it, I can-”

You’re interrupted by his hand lightly grabbing your wrist as he takes the paper bag out of your hand with a teasing smile. “Thank you, ___.”

“Don’t mention it,” you shrug, feeling shy all of a sudden, so you avoid his gaze. 

A few coughs interrupt your moment and you have to admit that you had already completely forgotten about the other person in the room with you. And Jimin had too, it seems.

You gasp as you take in the girl behind Jimin. “I'm sorry, I didn't want to disturb you guys. You can continue if you want. I'll be on my way.“ 

You don't know why you're so insecure today but you're ashamed of yourself. Of course, you wanted to interrupt them. You can't lie to yourself, even if you pray to God they won't see through you.

“Don't go. Leah and I are done here.” Jimin quickly catches your hand to keep you from leaving while his face is still turned to the girl - Leah. “I think you got it now. You just have to be careful not to give it too much momentum, then it will work just fine in the future.”

She looks like she wants to object but Jimin unknowingly doesn't even give her the chance to do so as he packs his things and you and then bids her farewell as he pulls you out of the studio.

Jimin is still holding your hand as he leads you outside. He quickly finds you both a quiet, sunny spot on the large meadow and gets comfortable while pulling you down with him. Since he still hasn't said anything yet, you assume that he doesn't see your interruption as bothersome at all which reassures you a little.

“Hey,“ Jimin whines as he pokes around in his fruit salad. “Where are all the grapes?”

You bite your lip sheepishly, shrugging as you take your phone out of your pocket. “Aw. Did they seriously forget the grapes? What a bummer,” you mumble, while you skillfully ignore his sharp gaze.

Knowing fully well why the grapes are actually missing, Jimin starts to discuss your plans for the rest of the day. 

For the opening of some new club in town, the owners will hold a big celebration tonight. Jimin has suggested that the "gang" (that's what he's been calling it lately whenever you do something together with Nayeon and Hyunjin) meet at your favorite restaurant to eat and then check it out to see if it's worth it.

You’re always on board when it’s about food and as far as you know, the others have already agreed to come and it fills you with excitement. For the first time in so long, it feels like you’re living your life again, going out with friends, eating, drinking, and having fun. That’s how it’s supposed to be. 

Well, it might not be for everyone, and that’s fine too. You enjoy the occasional lazy days at home, but you like to do things once in a while as well. And since you're fake-dating Jimin, you've been doing so much that you can't even think about your dramatic life anymore. 

You didn't even notice that a new neighbor had moved into the apartment next door. You must have looked pretty silly when he introduced himself this morning and mentioned that he'd been there all week, but this was the first time he'd met you.

“Maybe we should ask Jungkook if he wants to join,” you carefully suggest, quietly observing Jimin’s face as you sit next to him with your fingers still lazily intertwined with his. 

You see him furrow his brows almost immediately after those words leave your lips, and he turns his head to look at you. 

“I mean… because I’m sure he would want to come too but doesn’t have anyone to go with,“ you shrug.

“Lots of people from school will be there. He’ll find someone to hang out with like he always does,” Jimin voices, not very interested in your subtle suggestion. 

“What is your problem with him anyway? Why don’t you like him?” You sigh. Neither Jungkook nor anyone else has ever really answered this question for you and you don't expect a clear answer from Jimin either but are still interested in any possible reason.

“No specific explanation, I just don’t,” Jimin answers, without giving it much thought. “Pretty sure he feels the same way. We don’t match, that’s all.”

You pout, not agreeing with him in the slightest, but knowing pretty well there’s no point in arguing. 

“Maybe you should give people a chance once in a while. Who knows, you might find something that’s worth it.”

“Thanks Gandhi. You’re one to talk,” he snorts, sending a wink your way, when he sees the expression on your face. 

“I gave you a chance. That’s more than enough for the next ten years, I’d say,” you scoff, rolling your eyes. 

Jimin laughs, as he swings his arm around you. “And have you found something of worth yet?” He grins, wiggling his eyebrows. 

You gulp as you try to leave his grip, but he only holds you closer, already sensing you trying to get away. “I don’t need to answer that. Your head is big enough,” you chuckle, trying to wiggle your way out again. 

And in a moment of slight distraction, he loosens his grip, resulting in you being able to free yourself as he gasps loudly. “Wait, that means you have!”

“Never said that,” you sing song, skipping through the busy field.

Jimin takes a moment to look after you and smiles before he scoffs out a laugh and runs after you. 

Jimin was right — almost everyone and their mom came to the opening party and for the first time you are glad about Jimin's connections who have reserved a good table for your group of friends. 

While your friends enjoy their time and talk about this and that, you let your gaze wander around, admiring the beautiful, expensive-looking ambiance. It's classic but cool, chic but not snobbish. 

Whatever Nayeon has spent the past few minutes telling you appears to be funny, because suddenly everyone is laughing. Not wanting to let on that you're not listening at all, you also fake a soft laugh, but it's completely lost in the noisy surroundings.

It would probably be more polite to listen and take part in the conversation. Still, you find it incredibly difficult to concentrate on anything when Jimin's hand is far too high up your skirt to be considered appropriate. 

You're not sure exactly what it is, but something seems to be in the water today because his over-touchiness is truly on a different level. 

As always, you sit next to each other and the fact that he has his hand on your thigh is nothing new, Jimin is by no means afraid of contact. It has also happened before that he feels a little too comfortable when it comes to body contact. But today, every warning glance in his direction seems to have no effect, and you can't even count how many times you've grabbed his hand and moved it closer to your knee only for him to move it back up right after.

You don't even know if he's doing it consciously since he hasn't even given you a dirty smirk yet like he always does when he's messing with you. 

And what irritates you the most is how your own body betrays you. As much as you want to claim it, the goosebumps covering your body are not from disgust.

As a way to distract yourself from Jimin, you try to imagine which group of people this place is most likely trying to appeal to as your gaze falls on two, wildly waving arms, attached to a familiar-looking goofball.

A wide grin stretches over your lips as you wave back, which he probably mistakenly sees as an invitation to join you at your table. 

Sensing the drama, you quickly wrap yourself around Jimin’s arm and earn his attention as he gives you a questioning look. “Please be nice,” you plead, making him raise a brow in question before he sees him too.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you hear Jimin mumble to himself.

“Hey, guys! What's up?” Jungkook greets you, not wasting a second before he plops down on the empty seat next to Nayeon’s right side, who looks nothing but confused as to why Jeon Jungkook, whom she never even exchanged a word with has spontaneously joined her group.

“You have to stop inviting yourself to events where you aren’t welcome, man,” Jimin quips, clearly referring to your birthday party and earning a light slap to his thigh from you. 

“Oh, this is your club?” Jungkook counters, not expecting an answer from Jimin. “And who says I wasn’t invited?” Jungkook grins, wiggling his brows as he tries to annoy Jimin even further - and is successful. 

Even without looking at him, you can feel his eyes burning through your skull. “Wasn’t me,” you shrug, quietly sipping your coke. 

And it wasn’t. Even though you had asked about inviting him earlier, you wouldn’t just invite someone to a friendly gathering without letting the other people involved know about it. You wouldn’t like it either if one of the others did it. 

“Nah, don’t worry, she wasn’t going behind your back,” Jungkook chuckles, coming to your rescue. “I just like to crash parties, you know that already. One of my hobbies.”

“How about you go crash it at another table then?” Jimin suggests, sounding overly friendly even though his words suggest everything but kindness. Jungkook doesn’t seem to care. 

But you do. And you’re just about to argue with Jimi about his rude behavior when Hyunjin speaks up first. “Why bother? We have enough space here, you can join if you want. Right, guys?” 

He appears sincere, and you're relieved that at least someone here was brought up with good manners when Nayeon also speaks up. 

“Sure! The more the merrier, I guess,” she smiles brightly, offering him her hand to shake, which he does. 

But Jimin is displeased and he makes anything but a secret of it. Jungkook can sense it too, and even if he likes to get on the older guy's nerves because it’s fun, he doesn’t want you to fight because of him. So he lies and says he has someone waiting for him at a different table before he bids everyone a quick goodbye and leaves again. 

“So the rumors are true,” Hyunjin states, as soon as Jungkook has left around the corner and is nowhere to be seen. You can already feel Jimin tensing up beside you and you feel your heart sink already. 

“You and Jeon actually know each other?” 

You try to hear a condemning tone in his voice but breathe a sigh of relief when you don’t. There’s no judgment. Instead, he sounds and looks surprised.

“They do know each other. Everything else is not true.” Jimin takes it upon himself to answer his friend, not missing the chance to send a daring look his way. 

Hyunjin innocently lifts his hands, trying to show that he didn’t mean to sound judgmental, even if you didn’t think he meant it in a bad way. 

“It’s fine, you can ask me anything,” you smile, trying to tell him that he did nothing wrong. “I’d rather you ask me stuff instead of believing something that isn’t true.”

“He seems nice,” Nayeon chimes in, offering you a kind smile. “He should join us sometime.”

You would agree, but knowing it would upset Jimin, you don’t further argue about it and instead replace the topic of Jungkook with another one. 

About an hour later you find yourself alone in the middle of the long hall that holds the restrooms after you went there with Nayeon. The problem is that you somehow lost her on your way out and now she is nowhere to be seen.

You anxiously look around, full of worry about what might have happened, when you finally see her just a few meters behind you. You breathe out a sigh of relief when you realize she's just chatting with a cute guy. 

She doesn't look annoyed or worried at all. Instead, she seems interested, if you interpret her body language and flirty looks correctly, so you decide to give her some privacy and not disturb her, but stay close by to jump in at any time if you need to.

“Bit creepy, don’t you think?” A voice appears right next to your ear, making you twitch in sudden fright. 

“Jesus Christ, Jeon. Stop appearing out of nowhere, you freak!”

“It was too tempting.“ He looks like a supermodel as he leans against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest and his eyes squinted shut while he laughs at your frightened state.

“Anyway, why are you spying on Lee Nayeon? I thought we hated her 'cause she treated you like shit,” he asks, taking his eyes off you and frowns at Nayeon instead when he says that. 

“First of all, we?” you raise a brow, sending him a questioning look, “second of all, we made up ages ago. Please keep up with the reality drama show that is my life. Thank you.”

“How am I supposed to do that if you never tell me anything?” 

You sigh, copying his theatrical expression. “Why did you leave earlier?” You then change the topic while stealing glances at Nayeon every once in a while.

“Really?” Jungkook scoffs. “I think your boyfriend had a problem with me being there.”

You can’t help but grin wildly while crossing your arms over your chest. “Are you scared of him?”

You see him opening his mouth, but before he can answer, Jimin comes walking around the corner at a fast pace, surprising the two of you.

“I should have known you were behind this,” he grunts, looking at Jungkook. 

“What did I do now?” Jungkook sighs, rolling his eyes.

“Do you need to buzz around her like a fly all the time? It’s starting to get pathetic, Jeon.”

You can see that Jungkook is about to lose his temper, which implies that Jimin is slowly but surely getting on his nerves a little too much. However, this brief flash in Jungkook's eyes disappears as quickly as it appeared. Instead, a grin of satisfaction spreads across his lips.

“What are you so scared of? She isn’t even your real girlfriend.” 

If his expression is anything to go by, Jungkook appears to be just as shocked by his slip-up as Jimin is. Even though you never explicitly mentioned it, he knows he wasn't supposed to tell Jimin about being aware of your plan. But looks like he couldn't resist exposing Jimin without considering the consequences.

Before any more things are said that are better kept quiet, you step in and tell Jungkook that he should leave. You prepare yourself for the inevitable confrontation with Jimin that awaits you as soon as you turn to face him.

“You told Jeon about us?!” Jimin is attempting to lower his voice to avoid attracting unwanted listeners, but the bulging vein on his neck reveals his current rage.

“Calm down,” you hiss, putting your hands against his chest. “He has known from the start. He wasn’t going to believe me anyway, trust me,” you explain, watching the frown on his face turn deeper.

“Well, thank you very much, ___,” Jimin pouts, making you roll your eyes. 

“What? It’s no secret that we don’t like each other that much. If we would, it wouldn’t be so hard for us to make other people believe us.”

It looks like Jimin wants to argue about that but he decides against it, biting his lip instead as he glares at the cup in his hands.

“You don’t have to worry about anything. He won’t tell on us.”

“How do you know that?” He exclaims, wildly flaring his hands around. “You don’t know him, ___. Nobody fucking knows him! We never know where he goes when he suddenly disappears for days! He’s a fucking ninja!”

“I know enough to be sure he will keep our secret, trust me.”

“Yea no, thank you. I already made that mistake once,” he hisses, turning to leave again but you stop him, quickly grabbing his hand.

“Come on don't be mad at me,” you sigh, tugging on his hand to keep him from leaving you there. “I’m sorry, Jimin, I didn’t mean to upset you. Please don’t be mad at me,” you plead, trying your best to prevent another fight between you both. You do feel bad because even if you don’t know the exact reason for all this, you know, that it means a lot to him and you don’t wanna fuck it up the way you seem to fuck everything else up. 

“It’s not like I told him so we can joke about you behind your back or make you look stupid. That’s not the case. He just figured it out immediately. But he hasn’t told anyone, and he isn’t going to, I swear.”

Jimin takes a moment before he gives you an answer, deeply studying your face as if he’s looking for any indication that you’re lying to him. “Is that also why he’s always around?”

“I mean he’s kinda strange. He spawns whenever to be honest,” you shrug, “but he does try to look out for me, I think. He says he doesn’t trust your intentions.” 

Something between a scoff and a laugh comes between Jimin’s lips when he hears you say that but contrary to your expectation, he doesn’t comment on it. 

Wherever Jimin goes, he sees them strutting around like royalty, holding their heads high, as if they haven't done anything wrong. It's as if they hadn't betrayed their childhood friends and partners, as if it was nothing. They act like they haven't taken advantage of you without your knowledge and made you look ridiculous in front of the entire school.

They walk around as if nothing happened and they have the nerve to even look at him and greet him. Even if it’s just from afar. And what’s even worse is that no one other than the people involved seems to remember or, well, care. It makes Jimin’s blood boil.

He doesn’t deserve that. Nayeon doesn’t deserve that. YOU do not deserve that.

How little shame can two people have?

Jimin can’t help but glare at them until they get swallowed by the crowd and are no longer in his sight after what feels like an eternity. It takes a lot for him to calm down again but when he sees you and Nayeon dancing together, having fun, and not caring about anything else, it makes him feel even worse about himself. 

He doesn’t want to be the only one stuck in the past. It’s not like he wants to think about them anyway but it’s hard for him to move on from all of this when it’s just so… unresolved. 

How come they get away with everything without having to pay for anything they did?

Completely lost in his head and frowning down into his drink, he doesn’t see you creeping up to him until he feels your arms wrap around him from behind. “Why aren’t you having fun?” 

The feeling of your breath right next to his ear sends shivers down his spine and he doesn’t even have to look into your glassy eyes to know you’re already enjoying yourself. 

You’re not drunk, but it’s safe to say you’ve had a couple of drinks by now because you’re never this touchy when it comes to him - not that he’s complaining now. 

“Who says I’m not?”

“Hm, I don’t know…” You squint your eyes, pursing your lips slightly as you study him. “The frown between your eyes, your clenched jaw, or the way you hold your glass so tightly your knuckles don't contain even a drop of blood anymore. Choose one.” 

“Nothing escapes your otherworldly instincts I’m afraid,” Jimin sighs dramatically as he takes your hand in his and reverses your position until you're pressed to his chest with his free arm around your back, making you suck in a breath from surprise. “But maybe I’m just jealous you spend all your time with Nayeon and not with me, babygirl.”

“Very funny,” you huff, desperately trying to hide how flustered his words make you. “But if you insist,” you smirk, letting your hands teasingly wander up his chest until you intertwine them around his shoulders. “I’ll spend it with you from now on.” You see him gulp and it makes your heart skip a beat from satisfaction — two can play this game, Park. 

“I know you think this is you getting the upper hand, but what if this is exactly what I want?” 

“Honestly, wouldn’t surprise me since you’re joking about getting in my pants ever since we met,” you feign a grin.

“How can you still think I’m joking?” He smirks, slowly leaning forward to slightly press a kiss behind your ear.

It takes a lot from you not to make a sound and you’re just about to push him off of you when something in the corner catches your eyes, making a fictional lightbulb appear above your head.

“Kiss me,” you say, placing one hand under his chin to make him look at you.

The sudden look of confusion on his face quickly turns into a pleased expression as he tightens his arms around your waist even more, leans in, and starts kissing you. 

When his lips first touch yours, they feel soft and so familiar that it's as if you've been transported back in time. The last time he kissed you, you were drunk out of your mind, but it seems like you haven't forgotten the way his lips feel on yours. 

The kiss gets heated very quickly when he lets his tongue slip in between your lips to find yours. One of his hands moves to the back of your neck to tilt your head towards him and grant him more access, eliciting a breathless moan from you.

He kisses you deep like that for what feels like a small eternity, letting his tongue fight with yours before he breaks it again. You didn't even realize how urgently you need to catch your breath until his lips only hover above yours.

“Happy?” Jimin asks hoarsely, smiling down at you.

You nod before you clear your throat in desperate need to get your pathetic self together and find your voice again.

“Yeah… I'd say that was a success,” you say, biting your lower lip as he raises an eyebrow.

“Yeji was walking in so I asked you to kiss me to make her jealous and it worked because she left when she saw us kissing and she looked pissed,” you ramble, a little surprised when you see his confident smile slowly fade. 

“Oh.”, he rasps. “Right, uhm...” 

Jimin slowly lets go of you and returns to his earlier spot beside you. You cannot help but notice a slight difference in his behavior compared to earlier. 

“What’s wrong?” You ask, trying to make him look at you but he’s frowning down at the floor again, not even turning his head in your direction.

“That’s… That’s still the plan, right?” You don’t even know why you’re asking such dumb questions. It is still the plan of course and yet, you feel like you have to apologize for faking a supposed intimate moment with him.

“Yes,” he quips, looking at you for a millisecond before he clears his throat. “I need to use the restroom.” 

And with that, he’s gone and you feel like the biggest idiot. You should have told him about your real intentions when you asked him to kiss you because now it feels like you lead him on and you feel dumb about feeling like that when you shouldn’t because that’s the only reason you should be asking him to kiss you anyway isn’t it? And ugh, when did things get so complicated?

“Everything okay?” Nayeon asks as she comes walking to you. “Where did he go?”

“Oh yeah, he just needed to use the restroom,” you say, trying to muster up a smile which seems to be enough for her to let it go for now. You’re trying not to let it show how much his sudden behavior confuses you as well.

“I know I say it all the damn time but I love the two of you together so much,” Nayeon gushes, making you cringe internally. You send her the fakest smile ever, but she doesn’t even notice. 

“He seems so much more like himself when you’re around.” 

Nayeon is sweet but what is that even supposed to mean? 

"He's just so much more...” 

“Horny?” 

Nayeon gasps, giving your arm a light slap before you both fall into fits of laughter. 

“No, ___, not horny. He’s calmer. More relaxed. He lets go of this golden boy image in your presence. It’s nice to see because that was never really him anyway. It’s just that… he sometimes tries too hard, you know? And it’s a shame because he’s already pretty cool the way he is.”

You find yourself listening intently when she explains and you think you can agree with some of that. 

From what you’ve known so far, Jimin is someone with a big ego and plenty of confidence. However, it seems like he's a different person every time he interacts within his social circles. As if he always has to try not to lose his position. He's different when it's just your little group. And you wonder if it has anything to do with what he told you a while ago. That all these people, all his contacts are nothing but a facade. That he has close to no real friends.

That's probably the saddest thing he's ever told you about himself and yet you just accepted it and never really gave it a second thought.

"Well, anyway, whatever you're doing, you're doing great. Thank you," Nayeon gives you a warm smile before she shifts her attention to something else.

You think about her words for a while, but the longer you do, the worse you feel. You do not deserve her praise in the slightest.

You’re the worst fake girlfriend ever.

This night did not turn out the way Jimin wanted it to. It was supposed to be a nice night out with a couple of friends to have fun and make some good memories. He thought it was more than necessary for all of you but perhaps he shouldn't have set his expectations too high. Now he’s in a bad mood, sitting on a brick wall right outside the club and getting drunk on his own.

He knows he can't stay here for much longer, knowing that you will probably be looking for him soon. He has also promised not to leave you alone anymore, and yet here he is. The only thing that reassures him is that Nayeon is with you, which is why he's not in such a hurry right now. He just needed a moment to think. One moment to come clean with himself. And the best way to achieve that is probably not by getting drunk alone, but sometimes you just have to do what you have to do.

A lot is happening tonight, and right now, he doesn’t have a healthier way of coping with the mess inside his head, so this will have to do.

He isn’t even one hundred percent sure why he’s in such a sour mood all of a sudden but he blames it on all the little inconveniences he has encountered throughout the night. 

First Jeon appears out of nowhere — again, then he finds out that you told Jeon about your deal ages ago, he is once again being forced to see Taehyung and Yeji and if that wasn’t enough already, you only let him kiss you to make Yeji jealous. 

The last point shouldn't be a problem. He's aware of that. After all, you're just trying to help him and keep this stupid deal without crossing any boundaries which you are so persistent on. But he can’t help but feel so stupid for not realizing it at the time and thinking you wanted him to kiss you when you’ve made it more than clear multiple times that that’s not something you’re interested in. 

Yes, your dynamics have undoubtedly changed, and you are much more open to spontaneous flirting and subtle touches these days, but your fundamental attitude toward the whole thing is still the same, and Jimin accepts that. He would never want you to be uncomfortable or anything. 

A group of very loud people interrupts his sulking but he doesn’t find it in himself to even look up from his half-empty bottle of— what was it again? He doesn’t remember what he got but hey, it’s a sign that it’s working, right?

“Woah hey buddy, you alright?” It is the voice that suddenly arouses his interest after all. “Why are you out here by yourself Jimin? Where is your girl?” 

Jimin's head jerks up as soon as he hears the voice of the person addressing him directly. He wants to see if he is dreaming or if the person he believes is really standing in front of him but the movement is perhaps a little too fast for him in his current state because everything starts to turn at that very moment and he can’t see straight.

Fortunately, it doesn't take long before everything stops spinning and his eyes manage to focus again, landing on a stupidly smirking Taehyung.

And suddenly Jimin can feel his anger in his whole body as he knocks his opponent's hand off his shoulder. “Don’t touch me. What the fuck are you doing?”

He may be a little tipsy right now but he’s in his senses enough to bring as much space as possible between him and this lying, cheating bastard.

“I’m just trying to help,” Taehyung says, adding a small unnecessary scoff at the end which doesn’t rub Jimin the right way. 

“I don't need your help, you've done enough already,” he quips, glaring at Taehyung. "I can't believe you even dare to talk to me. You should be ashamed of yourself."

Taehyung looks annoyed and not even remotely interested in having this conversation when he rolls his eyes disrespectfully.

"Look, I understand what I did wasn't great, and you have every right to be mad. But don't you think you're being a bit dramatic? It's been months, Jimin, and you still refuse to talk to me. You won't even acknowledge me."

Jimin scoffs out a laugh, taken aback by what Taehyung just said.“Even if it had been years, I’d still not talk to you!” Jimin’s anger grows with every passing second, his feet bringing him closer to his ex-best friend without him even noticing. No doubt the alcohol is playing a part in the way he struggles with calming himself down right now but Taehyung’s sole appearance and the way he tries to make him look like the bad guy is pissing him off. "You've got some nerve coming up to me and acting as if nothing happened."

“You should learn to let things go man.”

Taehyung barely finishes his sentence before Jimin shoves him hard, making him stumble back a couple of steps. The stupid look on his face alone was worth it.

“Maybe you should learn to own up to your mistakes and keep other people’s names out of your mouth.”

Another hard push to Taehyung’s chest made him stumble back into one of his friends. Taehyung pushes back and italmost escalates until someone suddenly intervenes and pulls Jimin out of the conflict by standing between them.

Jimin glares at Taehyung, breathing heavily in anger as he is gently pushed further back to create some space.

“There’s no need to do this here right now, Jimin. Especially when you’re in this state,” a calm voice directed at him tries to appease him.

Even though his eyes only alternate between Taehyung and Yeji, Jimin knows that it's Jungkook, who is trying to mediate. But he doesn't have the head or the attention to think about why it's him of all people who stops him from doing something inevitably stupid right now.

He ignores Jungkook, completely captivated by how Taehyung steps closer again, despite Yeji grabbing his arm to try and keep him from it. 

“If you have something to say then fucking do it. Or tuck tail and let others sort it out for you like you always do.”

“He’s just trying to rile you up. Don’t stoop to his level.“ Jungkook gives Jimin another nudge, hoping he’ll listen and remove himself from the situation. “Come on, let’s find ___.” 

“Yeah, better listen to your girlfriend’s boyfriend.” Taehyung snickers, his posture toughening up when he hears approving laughter from his friends.

This time, Jimin is ready to wipe the smirk off of his face for good, but Jungkook beats him to it, his eyes full of bottled-up anger.

“You’re one to talk. Don’t you have one of your hookups waiting for you? The one from last week is somewhere around here. I saw her earlier.” Jungkook clips, clearly irritated as well before successfully turning Jimin away from him.

The last thing Jimin sees is a fuming Yeji going at a dumbfounded Taehyung before Jungkook leads him around a corner. 

“I just made that up,” Jungkook admits with his jaw still clenched. “Gave him some of his own medicine. Looks like his girlfriend doesn’t trust him that much,” he adds, a sheepish chuckle leaving his lips.

Although still quite agitated, Jimin can’t help but grin at that. “He deserved it.”

“He did.”

He is considering what to say next, feeling awkward in Jungkook's presence now that he stood up for him when he didn't have to. Normally, he would think that Jungkook would have been happy to watch this fight escalate, but instead, he mediated and even took his side. 

Jimin knows Jungkook didn't do it for him but for your sake. He's still pleasantly surprised by Jungkook's unexpected actions, especially since Jimin never has anything nice to say to the younger guy.

Fortunately for him, Nayeon suddenly pops up, followed by you, interrupting the uncomfortable atmosphere.

“Oh my God, are you okay?” Nayeon is the first to reach him. You're holding back a little, but the look in your eyes reveals that you're also worried. “Some people were saying you and Taehyung got into a fight. We were looking for you.”

“Ah, Taehyung was just trying to start something. Don’t worry though, nothing happened,” Jungkook explains before Jimin gets to say anything. 

While Nayeon refuses to accept this answer and asks Jimin for further details, Jungkook leans down towards you. “Take him home. I think it’s better we bring as much space between them as we can and something tells me Taehyung isn’t gonna leave soon.”

You know there's more to it than just Taehyung trying to start something, but you decide not to pester the boys anymore. You don't feel like partying anymore anyway, so you give him a silent nod and walk towards Jimin, who gives you a surprised look when you suddenly take his hand. “Let’s go home, yeah? I don’t feel like staying here any longer.”

Remembering how you two parted earlier, you're not sure how he'll react, which makes you a little uneasy. Luckily for you, a slight smile creeps onto Jimin's lips and you feel him squeeze your hand lightly as he nods in agreement.

The rest of the group agrees to leave as well. Eventually, you all find yourselves in a cab about twenty minutes later.

The last thirty-ish minutes have sobered him up, but something in you doesn't feel comfortable leaving Jimin alone, so you quickly decide for him that you only have one stop, which doesn't appear to bother him, although he seems quite surprised. 

You can't blame him. Not so long ago, you wouldn't have expected that you would voluntarily spend more time with him than necessary. Yet, here you are, inviting him to stay the night at yours.

He still hasn't said much to you - he hasn't said much in general since you left the club and it's hard to tell if it's because of you or if he just doesn't feel like it right now. 

He already lays comfortably in your bed when you come out of the bathroom. Part of you wants to complain about his audacity and condemn him to the couch. But in the end, you've already crossed that line before. Your bed is big enough to prevent discomfort, while your couch is sometimes too uncomfortable even to sit on.

So you don’t say anything while you climb into the space next to him. 

You lie there in silence, pondering what you should do before you finally take the initiative and break it with a silent whisper. “Are you okay?”

A long sigh leaves Jimin’s lips as he drives his hands through his face. “No, I’m an idiot.”

“Hey, it’s not like that’s news,” you grin, trying to make him smile but unlike usual, your bickering does not stir anything in him so you feel a little stupid for trying to lift the spirit like that when he’s obviously not in the mood. “I know you're not particularly into that, but do you want to tell me about it? I promise I can be serious when I need to be.”

He doesn’t reply for a while which you take as him not being interested. You know that as an emotional cripple yourself, you have no right to but it still makes you mad that he always refuses to open up about the stuff that went down when it bothers him.

“Yeji hurt you with what she did. I know you try to deny it and act like you don’t care whenever someone talks to you about it but you cared about her. And what she did, hurt you. I don’t know why you won’t admit it and if everyone juststraight up chooses to believe your bullshit then that’s on them but I can see right through that act.” 

You feel your fist grip your blanket in frustration when he still refuses to say anything and you huff in annoyance. “You can't even look at her and go almost manic every time someone even mentions her or Taehyung's name.”

You sigh. It’s not your intention to force him to talk to you, of course. But he must know he can confide in you. You have already figured him out anyway. “I’m mad too but it’s not healthy to keep all that in, trust me.“

“She broke my heart.” His voice is quiet, and you might have missed it if you weren’t lying there in complete silence. Still, it holds so much pain that it almost makes you wince as you turn your head, trying to see the expression on his face. His eyes stare right at the ceiling, brows creased slightly as he scoffs. “You’re right I never talk to anyone about it. And I hate to admit it but she did break my heart.”

“Because you loved her,” you whisper understandingly, turning your head to look straight at the ceiling once more.

“At one point I did. Not in the end anymore though. She broke my heart but I’m not talking about the cheating stuff.”

You don’t quite understand, and you’re just about to ask what he means when you hear his voice again. 

“It happened over a long period,” he rasps. “I was really in love with her in the beginning, but she changed. Or maybe I changed. Things changed. I don’t know.” He says, furrowing his brows, unpleased that he struggles to name it. “We hadn’t been close for a while when it happened, at least emotionally. I know she felt it just as much as I did, and maybe I’m to blame too for not breaking up with her as soon as I felt… close to nothing.”

“She could’ve broken up with you too. Lots of couples go through that at some point. It doesn’t justify cheating,” you argue, feeling yourself get worked up at him saying that before you remind yourself that it’s not the right moment for that. You don’t think that’s what Jimin needs or wants to hear right now. “At least that’s what I think.” 

“Anyway, it doesn't matter much, considering our relationship was pretty much over. Don't get me wrong, I am mad at her too. But Taehyung is the one who broke my heart this time,“ he then sighs. “I just don't get it.“ 

The frustration in his voice is clearly audible, and even if you've never experienced this exact situation, you know what it feels like to be betrayed by someone you used to trust.

“We grew up together. I used to tell him everything, he knew about my problems with Yeji. I wanted to save my relationship. He listened to me, comforted me, and gave me advice. All that while secretly having an affair with her behind my back?“ He sounds genuinely crushed while telling you all that.

“Who does that, ___?“

You have a lot of suitable terms for such people, but you know he doesn't expect an answer, at least not one like that. Since you've known him, he's already called Taehyung every insult under the sun himself, so that isn't what he needs.

“There are so many questions left unanswered in my head. Has he always been like this? If not, when did he change? If yes, why did I never notice anything? Was I like this as well and only noticed now because it's affecting me for the first time?“

It's the last question that really troubles him. You can see that right away.

“Some people are good at only showing you the sides of themselves that they want you to know. That doesn't necessarily make you simple-minded or blind. It just makes them good manipulators,“ you try to explain as best as you can. “Take it from someone who started with the worst opinion of you and has put up with your cocky ass every day since - you're a lot of things, Park Jimin, but you're not like that.“

Even though you didn't say much, his shaky exhale shows how much weight your words carry for him.

A couple of moments pass in silence between you two and you almost think he has fallen asleep when you feel the warmth of his hand engulfing your own.

“Thank you.” His words pass as a whisper. “For having my back in this.” 

Even in the dim light emitting from your bedside lamp, you can see the sincerity in his eyes as he gifts you a grateful smile and you can’t help but join in as you give his hand a slight squeeze. “Of course. As your fake girlfriend, that's kind of my job,” you reason, not thinking much of it.

His brows crease. “Yes. Your job,” he mutters.

He doesn’t say anything after that and neither do you but you still can't switch off. There's still something that keeps you awake. It’s an intrusive thought for sure and you’d be damned to give into that, but it won’t let you rest. 

You can't see from your position right now whether he's still awake or not, and you're too nervous to check. But you don't think you can sleep if you leave it as it is. 

“Jimin?” you whisper. Your teeth dig into your lower lip in agony.

You hope he doesn't hear you — or that maybe he's already asleep. You tried and that should be enough to silence your thoughts. After all, it's not as if you can just wake him up—

“Yes?”

Not only is he not sleeping yet, he sounds as awake as you feel. You nervously nibble on your bottom lip for a moment while you try to weigh up what you're about to do. 

You can feel his questioning gaze on you even before you lift your head, but it is ten times more penetrating the momentyour eyes meet. He is lying on his back with his head turned towards you, dark eyes looking up at you expectantly.

The little bedside lamp doesn't exactly provide a lot of light, but it's just enough for you to see the outline of his face. You carefully lift your hand and place it on his cheek before leaning forward without a comment. Out of uncertainty, you stop in front of his face and reconsider as your lips hover over his for a second. 

He must know by now what your intention is and even though he is anticipating your next move, he isn't moving a muscle, once again not wanting to accidentally rush you into anything you might not want.

You can feel his breath on your lips and figure that if you've already come this far anyway, there's no point in turning back now so you quietly close the gap and let your lips meet in a gentle kiss. 

Despite the circumstances of neither one of you being drunk or in public right now, it doesn’t feel awkward at all. It's quite the opposite. 

It goes against both, your principles and your ego to be the one to orchestrate a kiss, especially if it's a kiss that has no meaning in the course of your deal. And even though you feel the heat shooting into your cheeks and the tips of your ears, you don't care.

At first, your shared kiss is sweet and innocent, completely different from the one before, but no less breathtaking - literally. He lets you take the lead but kisses you back just as eagerly. 

His lips fit perfectly with yours and at some point, you completely lose track of time and instead lose yourself in your kiss.

You don't know how much time passes, but you are the one who eventually breaks away from him. Or at least you try to, but you only have a momentary chance to catch your breath because Jimin isn't having it, quickly lifting himself up and using his right elbow to keep himself upright while his other hand finds its place at the back of your neck to glide you back into him. 

His lips are back on yours in no time, your kiss turning more eager now that he’s taking control and it’s not long after that you feel his tongue on your bottom lip, asking for entrance. You grant him and in no time, your kiss that was so innocent just a minute ago turns into a full-on make-out session in your bed. 

It gives you flashbacks of the night at the bonfire. The only difference is that neither of you is drunk this time. A small but possibly significant difference depending on how far you’re willing to take it this time.

You’re already too far gone when the next thing you notice is how he swaps your positions in a simple move, making you the one lying underneath him.

Originally it was supposed to be nothing more than a simple kiss. It felt like the right thing to do after the awful night and the little heart-to-heart you two had but now that he has you under him it doesn’t feel that bad at all…

He’s letting his hand wander all over your curves and the moment you move yours just a little from around his neck is when you notice he’s not even wearing a shirt.

The little fucker snuck into your bed without having the decency to at least wear something. Although, since you practically forced him to spend the night with you without him having any clothes here, you can’t judge him for that.

He lets his hands wander under your shirt, when he realizes you're not backing down. The tips of his fingers leave hot trails on your skin, his own skin burning under your touch as you glide your hands down his chest.

Your fingertips linger at the level of his navel for a while, anxious to go lower only to be rejected again. You don’t think you can endure that humiliation again, especially not while being sober.

But any doubts are gone the moment he takes the initiative and bucks his hips into you, immediately making you moan in pleasure when you feel yourself getting more aroused. 

It's not enough for you though and you feel yourself getting more eager by every passing second. You eagerly let your hips sway and press your center against his crotch, moaning as you rub against him.

His hands grab your thighs, fingers digging into your flesh so hard you think he might leave bruises as he tries to bring you even closer. 

Since everything seems to move too slowly for your liking, you’re just about to take your top off, when he suddenly untangles himself from you with a low curse.

“You’re not doing this out of pity, are you?” 

His voice doesn't sound judgmental or disappointed in any way, but it's unmistakably important to him that whatever happens, happens because you want it to.

Still in a daze, you need to find your words so you only shake your head. And you don’t even have the time to wait for his reaction before you’re chasing his lips again. Unfortunately, it does not suffice for more than a short peck before he breaks away again, even making a desperate whine escape you.

You don't even manage to be ashamed of how obviously you want him when the way he looks at you right now tells you he feels the same way.

He chews his lip while his eyes pierce you, looking for even the smallest detail that you might not be in your right mind but not able to find anything.

So he slowly inches closer again, captivated by the the way you let your tongue glide over your lips to wet them and he smirks. 

“And you’re not going to pretend you don’t remember anything tomorrow morning?”

You roll your eyes, annoyed he can’t stop teasing you about that incident but not in the mood for any more bickering when he could do so much more with that mouth of his.

“Depends on whether you make it worth remembering,” you smirk.

It was meant as a joke, but it probably came across more as a challenge the way his eyes darken at your words. And it gets you excited. 

He gets to it immediately, finally taking off your top in a hurry and locking your lips again in a heated kiss as his hands wander further down to take the rest of your clothes off. 

You are now lying completely naked underneath him, which makes your heart beat a little faster. As if he senses your nervousness, he takes it slow, trailing his kisses from the corner of your mouth to your cheek and further down to your neck where he lets his tongue run over your skin in a gentle circle that has your eyes roll back into your head. 

But there's still something in the back of your mind that won't let you relax completely, and you need to get it off your chest.

“It doesn’t have to mean anything, yeah?”

“Of course not,” he rasps in between light nips to your neck that would have you weak in your knees if you weren’t already lying down.

It seems like this confirmation is the last thing you need, to let go completely, with no second-guessing thoughts left. Jimin seems to notice too, feeling how your body melts against his when he lets his kisses trail further down your neck to your chest. 

“Man, you’re gorgeous.”

Him praising you like that makes your stomach flip, but it also raises a few new concerns. Since you need to keep your relationship as platonic as possible, compliments that affect you like that are dangerous territory. To avoid spoiling the atmosphere, you remain silent, hoping things will stay that way.

Jimin starts gently. He places kisses around one of your hardened nubs before taking it into his mouth, sucking and nibbling until you respond with a breathless moan. He then moves on to the other one, repeating his actions until he’ssatisfied with your reaction. 

You’re trembling at this point, squirming beneath him to try and get any kind of friction against the heat between your legs - the only part of your body he hasn’t touched yet. 

The little whines and moans that escape your throat intensify when his hand replaces his mouth on your breast, squeezing it while his other hand slowly wanders down your body. He begins with just two fingers pressing down your soaked center. 

Jimin is considerate and gentle, allowing you time to relax and become accustomed to his touch. However, he also gets straight to the point and fortunately does not attempt to tease you initially and you're very grateful for that. 

His thumb brushes over your clit in slow circles finally releasing some of the pressure that has built up by now, letting your moans intensify with every stroke as you feel his pointer and middle finger circle your entrance. 

Feeling how ready you are to take not one but two fingers without much preparatory work, he stops, raising a questioning eyebrow with a mischievous glint in his eyes. But you interrupt him before he has the chance to comment on it.

“Don’t open your mouth and ruin it,“ you warn.

Jimin lets out a breathy laugh, swallows whatever he was about to say, and then dives back into kissing you hard while pushing them in, in one swift motion, making you moan from the surprise and the pleasure engulfing you all at once.

He moves them in and out a couple of times, picking up the pace as he does so all while letting his thumb take care of your aking nub.

Your hips begin to roll upwards, trying to fulfill the need to feel as much of him as possible. You don't even care anymore about how desperate you come off as long as he gives you what you need. And it's not like he isn't affected at all. 

His teeth dig so hard into his lower lip that he might just be drawing blood by now while his eyes wander over your entire body in a desperate attempt to burn this image so deeply into his brain that he will never forget it again. 

He takes a moment to watch his fingers glide in and out of you, wandering up higher over your smooth stomach up to your perfectly shaped breasts pushing up whenever you arch your back to meet his thrusts, and finally your contorted face. Eyes closed, lips parted, allowing every little moan to escape, just how he likes it.

He dives back in to kiss you again, capturing all the beautiful sounds you make along the way. But he doesn't have the chance to enjoy it for long when you break the kiss soon after.

“I'm ready now,“ you gasp.

Jimin eagerly nods, jumping out of bed to clumsily remove his boxers and get something from his jeans. You don't have to ask him to know what he's getting, but you still can't help but wonder...

“You came prepared?” 

He only looks over at you briefly before concentrating on opening the pack and putting on the condom, very careful not to keep you waiting for too long.

“I always come prepared,“ he affirms. “The way you're always hitting on me… phew,” he jokes, rolling his eyes before he sends a wink your way.

You almost regret letting it get this far in the first place, and you're afraid you'll backtrack if his mouth isn't busy with you again soon and more words come out.

“Just make it quick. I’m losing more and more interest the longer I hear you talk.”

You hear him laugh, but just a blink of an eye later, he's back, and he doesn't let a moment pass before he eagerly kisses you again, his thumb lightly pressing your clit again. A moan escapes your throat before you can suppress it, and he uses it to dip his tongue inside, brushing it against yours.

Not wasting any time, he nudges your thighs apart and positions himself between your legs, guiding his cock up and down your slit a few times until he positions it right at your slick opening.  

“Do you need me to prep you some more or are you good?“ he groans, feeling the warmth of your heat consume him.

“Yea, yea, just put it in,“ you whisper hurriedly, physically and mentally unable to wait any longer.

“Wow, could you be any more romantic?“ Jimin chuckles, a playful pout forming on his lips, mischief shining in his eyes. 

“I don’t want romance. I want you inside of me.“ 

“I’m sensitive, baby, I need to be charmed. Say please?“ He grins childishly, knowing exactly what he's doing.

Oh, he's having so much fun right now, although he knows you're going to make him pay for that one way or another. But he can't help it.

Not only does it turn him on like crazy, but seeing you be so desperate for him is something he knows will never happen again so he needs to enjoy it as much as he can.

“Jimin,“ you whine, partly upset and partly frantic, as he hums in acknowledgment.

The way his cock is sliding with ease through your folds while he waits for you to give in is taking a toll on him too. He is good at restraint and self-control and it would be more than embarrassing to be the first to give in in this game he has started but he might just need to if you don't soon.

You sigh, fists clenching your sheets for all the wrong reasons. Why is this man always like this in such inappropriate situations?

Clenching your jaw you look at him with the deepest scowl while mustering the sweetest voice possible. “Jimin, please please please fuck me. I need you and I can’t wait any longer, please.“

And that's all it takes for him to crumble completely. “Good girl. How could I say no to that.“

Once more, he positions himself right at your entrance and starts moving his hips forward. Anytime but now, you'd be embarrassed by how easily he's able to slide in, but your head is empty, mind numb the moment he's finally fully inside, filling you up.

You don't need time to adapt and that's probably clear to both of you, because the very next moment he starts pumping in and out with such hard and fast movements, you almost see stars. You push your hips up against him, trying to meet his thrusts, your hands clinging tightly to his arms while moan after moan escapes your lips.

There's not a single thought in your head. His rough moans fill your ears as he momentarily slows his strokes to a sensual grind as he leans down to suck on your nipples, causing you to throw your head back, completely overwhelmed with pleasure. 

He talks a lot of pretentious bullshit but when it comes to this, you must admit he has the goods to back it up.

You feel yourself getting closer with every delicious stroke he gives you, the tip of his cock reaching the perfect spot again and again. But you need more.

“Harder,“ you pant, digging your nails deeper into the flesh of his arms. 

Jimin hears you loud and clear, following your instructions almost a bit too eagerly which suggests that he needs it just as much. Still fully inside you, he gently lets his hands brush down to your knees grabs the back of your knees, and pushes your legs upwards. 

The new angle allows his cock to reach even deeper, making the both of you moan when he picks up speed again. One of his hands is gripping your thigh tightly, surely leaving bruises, while he moves the other down to your clit, teasing it while he pounds into you as hard as he can.

“Goddamn,“ he gasps while he watches you squirm under him. There is little in life that Jimin takes so seriously. But even though there are more than enough opportunities to tease you verbally right now, he can't concentrate on anything but eliciting more of those needy moans from you.

He's close as well. Luckily for him, it only takes a few more thrusts and he feels you tighten around him. As a response, he rubs your clit faster which eventually pushes you over the edge as more and more loud, whiny moans just spill out of you.

Your pussy lazily pulsating around his cock while you slowly come down is what it takes for him to let go as well. He feels his balls tighten instantly before his dick finally blows, making him tumble over and groan into the crook of your neck. 

You don't stay like this for long, only waiting for you both to come down from your highs before Jimin lazily rolls off you. 

Pushing some damp strands out of his face, he can't stop himself from grinning contentedly. When he turns his head to see your expression, he notices you staring at the ceiling, nibbling your lip in deep thought. You do look satisfied and there is no trace of regret, thankfully. But there is a trace of concern that emanates from you.

Jimin's expression softens, his hand slowly reaching for yours which makes you look at him as well. 

You both exchange subtle smiles, silently agreeing not to worry about anything until the morning. And you don't. You sleep like a baby.

tagged: @ggukkieland | @ttaeby | @rkvi | @cuteipat | @pjiminslove | @mawwnsterr | @aamalaaa | @spideyxxboi | @lil-sracha | @katsbqbe | @bex-92br | @natalie-rdr | @canarystwin | @wespers-jaan | @bangtanxcoffee | @bri-mal | @so-kou | @lonleycoffee | @rjsmochii | @kiwiaroha | @chimchimmarie | @scoupshawt | @xmochiloverx | @kristinkristinuk | @thejiminshieffect | @yes-fangirl-things | @cuteinjapanese | @leticiaesteveslp | @jkkkkkay | @miss-rainy-days | @bangtan4everr | @i-never-post-but-i-am-here | @dumdaradumdaradum | @thesmeraldogirl | @deliciouslydeliciouspenguin

[concentrateandpush]

We have a tradition.. in our group of friends. Every birthday we have a sleepover, we’ve done this since we were 4, that won’t change, the three of us get along too well. We’ve always told each other secrets, funny stories, our crushes, but there is one secret I’ve kept from my friends.

It’s late, 1AM but we usually try to stay up as late as possible. Carly’s Mom is at work and her dad passed away when she was little. Eloise is a little tipsy, as usual, seeing as Carly’s Mom has a cupboard of Malibu and vodka. I was tempted not to come, I’ve been cramping all day but I know how mad they would be, plus with the snow, what else is a 9 months pregnant single girl going to do on a Saturday.

I didn’t want to tell them that I’m pregnant because they’d talk about how Steve is a bad influence and how I was a virgin until I met him, how he stole me away for one sleepover last year, they’re right but I don’t need it. I just thought keeping it to myself would be a good idea, until now. “I.. I just need to use the bathroom” I mutter under my breath as I get up and run off.

Fumbling for my phone, I text Mom “I’m at Carly’s, come get me” but the service is down.

The pain is building, kind of like a period pain but in my back and my stomach. I find myself rubbing my belly fast and hard as if it’ll help, but I can’t get it to stop.

“Hey, Carly? You okay?” Sarah asks as she knocks the door, Sarah is Carly’s older sister. “Carly??” She asks again. “Uh.. it’s Lena” I admit, trying to control my breathing.

“Oh, Lena, are you okay? You sound like you’re out of breath?” She asks and I quickly get myself together before opening the door. “Sorry” I say quietly. She heads in and I hear her making noises “Lena, did you pee on the floor?” She asks, disgusted and I freeze, realising my waters broke. “I-I’m sorry I can clean it up” I say before heading in and grabbing some paper, kneeling to wipe it. I let out a small groan as I feel a twinge in my left lower abdomen.

“Lena, are you okay?” She asks and I nod “f-fine” as I wipe up. “Lena, I’ve known you since you were practically a baby and something is up” she probes and I shake my head, wishing for the pain to not come as hard as I know it will. I find my hand gripping the toilet seat as I start to contract. “P-please don’t tell them” I mumble, taking deep slow breaths.

“Tell them what?” She asks, lowering herself to me, looking at my face and down to my belly. “I..” I start and she shakes her head “Lena.. you’re not? You’re fucking pregnant?” She exclaims. “I knew you’d gotten chunkier but.. oh sweetheart, you’re-“ she stops and realised “you’re not in labour? Right?” She asks and I plead for help with my eyes.

“Shit, okay.. right” she nods “Lena..” she sighs “what are we going to do with you..” she says softly before taking me into her arms. I lean in and just let her hold me before it gets worse and I start involuntarily panting, gripping her shirt. “Okay, okay Lena, I need you to sit back for me” she says calmly and I shake my head “I’m scared, it hurts, it’s coming” I mutter.

“Right, I know you don’t want them to know but they will, you’re not going to push a baby out quietly and you need comfort, we’re going to get you into the living room and onto the couch” she sighs and I just agree, I need to get it out. “Carly! Eloise?!” She shouts and they come in, seeing the room and cluelessly staring.

“Okay, Lena is in labour, which I know is a big shock for you both, but we need to help her deliver this baby” she explains “can you girls help me bring her to the couch?” She asks and they just do as she says, helping me up. Once I’m on my knees, I get another contraction, one much worse than the last and it doubles me over. “Nnggg” I grunt to myself, clutching my well hidden bump.

“Lena is this a joke?” Carly asks and I just shake my head, blowing breath into the air as I spread my legs under me “pressure” I mumble, looking to Sarah “so much pressure” I cry. “Couch” Sarah demands. Before I know it, they’re carrying me in and getting me on the couch which has been turned into a bed for the night.

“How did you hide this?!” Eloise asks and I just shake my head, gripping my leg and pulling it back, clothes still on. “Wait, wait a minute” Sarah says panicked as she can see I’m about to push with all my mite. “I can’t!” I cry out as I start to bear down in my pants, grunting and shaking like a leaf. “Lena!” She shouts and I stop, reaching down to hold myself, letting her strip me naked.

The second her eyes see my opening, they widen and I see the fear. “That’s a head” Carly says, shocked and Eloise gazes “that’s a head!?” She asks and Carly nods “look, the pink thing inside, a head” she says confidently and I just start to sob. “You were right about Steve, he wanted me to get rid of it but I just couldn’t” I cry. “Okay, okay, we understand, Lena, we do” Carly sighs as she comes next to me, wiping my forehead.

“It’s coming” I grunt as I grip my thigh, ready to experience this whole situation. “Okay, deep breath and push” Sarah tells me and I nod, pulling my chin to my chest as I just scream the baby down. I feel every single centimetre of the head coming down, ripping me, tearing me open. “More” she says quickly and I shake my head, letting go of my legs as I try to catch my breath.

“I can’t do this.. I can’t do it” I cry, rubbing my bump in small circles. “You have no choice Lena, the roads are covered and you have a baby coming out of you, you have to do this, you need to push it out” Sarah says sternly. “You’re so strong, Lena.. your body is meant to do this and you can absolutely push your baby out, just push” Eloise smiles reassuringly and I sigh, already exhausted.

I gulp a deep breath down and try to grab my thighs, pulling my legs up until Eloise grabs one and Carly the other “Push your baby out!” Carly smiles and I try, so fucking hard, to no avail. I’m sweating, I’m crying and my whole body is throbbing but I just can’t get it out.

“Why can’t I do it?!” I wail and Sarah sighs “patience.. you’re getting there” she smiles and I just look to the girls, my eyes begging them to keep my legs up “here it comes” I whisper softly as I start to lean into it. “Gaahhh!” I cry, pushing as hard as I can for as long as my body will allow. “Give.. birth!” I cry out, reaching down and pulling myself open.

“It’s not working” Sarah explains as I hopelessly reach for my Stanley for a sip of water. “I need you to stand..” she sighs and I nod, getting up and standing, opening my legs to make room for baby to come out. “So you’re going to squat a little with the push” she says and I nod, grabbing onto Carly as I swing my hips. “Come on baby, please let me push you out.. it’s just pushing it’s not that hard, I can get you out, I will push you out” I whisper as I pep talk myself.

“Heee heee, hoo hoo, heee heee, hoo HOO” I breathe as I start to feel it coming. My legs part naturally as I begin my pushing attempt, holding onto Carly as I feel my vagina spread. “It’s working!” Eloise smiles and I nod, reaching down to feel my baby’s head.

“Holy fuck!” I cry as I feel burning “fuck, fuck, fuck!” I mutter. “You’re crowning!” Sarah smiles and I just find myself going to my hands and knees, moaning like a cow. “That’s it, vocalise all you want” she smiles as Eloise rubs my back. “Please, please get it out” I moan, shaking as I try to hold myself up.

“Lena, it’s time to push” Carly tells me as I find myself almost falling asleep, exhausted from all the work I’ve put in so far. I just bear down, trying to push through the pain. The noises I’m making are animalistic and in all honesty I’m embarrassed. “Focus, Lena” Sarah demands and I nod, trying to find words to say I need to move.

I fall into a position on my side, holding my leg up and pushing for around an hour, it’s unbearable. Until finally, “the head! It’s here, the head is out” Eloise exclaims. “Push! Push!!” Sarah screams and I do exactly that, groaning, grunting and sweating as I feel my baby escape my body and come into the world.

[qu1cks1lversb1tch]

Aw those best friend hcs were fun! Can you do everyone else at the hotel? Especially Vaggie?

A/N: I absolutely can! I'll make a part 3 or edit this one if I somehow forget someone (it could happen). This is quite the little grouping 🤣 I hope you like it!

Having them as best friend's part two:

Includes: Vaggie, Sir Pentious, Niffty, and Cherri Bomb.

Part One

Vaggie

Her deal is tough love.

As her best friend, you're used to being called an idiot half a dozen times a day.

You'll just be chilling after making some decision or saying something and she'll be like: "Not only are you blind, you're fucking stupid too!" But it wouldn't hold any malice

She's never really been one for gossip, but you can bet that she'll listen to how your day was.

Definitely the friend who would interrogate anyone you show interest in.

If someone says something out of line about you, she's putting them in their place before you can open your mouth to defend yourself.

Vaggie isn't very touchy, but she'll hug you sometimes. Especially if it was something like after the battle and she was just happy you were alive.

She's almost always there to ward off the bad.

Sleepovers! They're never her idea, but she can't say no when you give her those puppy dog eyes.

Really, she's always there for you, but with a sibling dynamic that makes some question if the two of you really tolerate each other at all. You do, but barely lmao.

Sir Pentious

He's a drama king. Sweet, but definitely dramatic.

100% the friend to hold your drink at a party. . . Because he's HOLDING EVERYONE'S DRINK!

If you had to go anywhere, he's sending the Egg Bois with you. They call you 'not master' and it's the cutest thing ever.

Sleepovers would be his idea, no doubt. An offer that couldn't be refused.

He calmly interrogates any potential suitors of yours, and if they seem fine, he might let them go on a date with you.

Will literally cry if you call someone else your best friend. Friend's are okay. But if you called Angel Dust or Charlie your best friend? Immediate tears. "But. . . I thought I wasss your besssst friend." Apologize, right now.

Gives you some new weaponized invention and your favorite Hellish sweet treat every year on your 'death day'. He takes it very seriously.

He's all for the tea, but only if there's 100% truth behind it. Like you witnessed the HOTTEST tea of the month and just went 'Sir P NEEDS to know'.

Everyone mistakes the calmness and caring nature of Sir Pentious as having feelings for you. Common misconception. That's just your slithery best friend.

Y'all take naps together at random because you can. And naps are life.

Niffty

You're almost as chaotic as she is, but you're better at hiding it. Sorry not sorry.

Because of her, everything you own is cleaner than when you got it and you found it disturbing at first, but eventually got used to it.

She climbs you like a tree and uses you to see better in large crowds.

She talks so fast half the time you could barely understand her until it clicked and you could reply.

She's very knife happy. Someone breaks your heart? "STAB! STAB! STAB!" Followed by maniacal giggles and her footsteps down the hall.

She tries new recipes and uses you as the taste tester to see if the others would enjoy it. The answer is usually yes.

Niffty is super blunt. She won't hold back a single thought, even if it could potentially hurt your feelings.

She rarely takes breaks, but when she does, her small frame is usually beside you, watching TV or relaying the latest drama she heard on the streets.

She's a good listener, but once again, she's also blunt.

Every picture of the two of you, she has that same far away look in her eye. Every. Single. One.

Cherri Bomb

She's a bad influence, that much is certain, but no amount of peer pressure could get you to do something you didn't want to do. That's why you're best friends.

She loves partying and dragging you out, but most nights, you stay in, which then in a way, forces her to stay in too.

"[Y/N/N], you bitch, why aren't you dressed? I thought we were going out tonight!" No. No you weren't.

She encourages you to step out of your comfort zone 24/7, because you're in Hell and it could only get so much worse.

She listens, but doesn't really pay attention all that much. There's almost always something else on her mind, but she makes it up to you somehow.

She'd probably push you down the stairs for fun if she felt like it.

Most likely to sing karaoke with you, absolutely plastered in a bar somewhere on the outskirts of the Pride Ring.

If you handed your cup to her to go to the bathroom, she'd probably misunderstand and drink it.

Glares at anyone who looks in your direction, purely because she doesn't trust very many at all.

Would reluctantly agree to a sleepover if you asked, just because you're her main bitch.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Bad Reputation 1

Warnings: dark elements, noncon, abuse, gaslighting, manipulation, cheating, other dark elements. Proceed with caution.

Note: Please let me know what you think as it helps me a lot with ideas and I love interacting with you all.

Part of The Club AU

“I can’t tell you how much I need this,” Maria sighs as you put down the cocktail before her.

“Yeah, me too,” you sit back and twirl the straw in your drink.

“You sure about this place?” She looks around as she lifts the glass filled to the brim with a pink and purple ombre, topped with a wedge of bright lime. “Seems a bit young for us.”

“Uh, well, Google Maps isn’t exactly intuitive, I guess. You said drinks and I didn’t think you’d wanna go down to some dive.”

“Mm, yeah, I might run into my husband,” she scoffs, setting down her drink and rubbing her temples, “I can’t explain to you how intense it’s been. I don’t know what’s going on with him.”

“Sounds like he wants to be your father, not your husband,” you roll your eyes.

“No, no ‘I told you so’s’,” she crosses her arms, “because I know. You were right. He’s controlling. I just… I didn’t think he’d get this bad.”

You nod. You don’t want to be right. You care for your friend. You want her to be okay.

“Where does he think you are right now?”

“With the kids,” she says guiltily, “I told him I was taking them to my parents’ place. Which I did, he just thinks I’m there too.”

“Jeez,” you rub your chin, “so, what do you think? Talking to a therapist or a lawyer?”

She looks at you, a dire spark in her eyes, “I don’t know. I’m trying to figure it out. Either one is going to be like pulling teeth.”

“Yeah, I can only imagine.”

“God, I wish I was you,” she lifts her glass again, “single, childfree, alive.”

“Oh, Mar, don’t say that. You just need to get through this. And you can. The both of you just need to figure it out. You need to adjust. You never did, really. He kept on doing the same things, meanwhile you gave up everything to be with the kids. You deserve to get some of you back.”

“Please,” she wiggles her nose, “you know I get weepy when I drink.”

“And look at me getting sentimental,” you chuckle, “alright, that’s it.” You pick up your cocktail and chug it, trickling a little down the corner of your mouth. You wipe away the excess and slam the glass down, “you’re going to finish that. Then we’re going to get another and we’re going to dance.”

“Dance? College ended a long time ago–”

“We’re still wild, Mar, you’ll see. Down it and lets do a double to get in the mood. I’m not letting you go until your leaning.”

She huffs and shakes her head, hovering her drink before her lips, “you really are a bad influence.”

“Oh, you can be sure to tell Frank he was right about me,” you wink.

🎶

You come out onto the pavement as the buzzing of the music sticks in your ears. You made it to last call but Maria is barely holding on as she clings to your shoulder. You giggle and search for a cab among the rabble of clubbers dispersing in pairs and larger groups. 

You see the Golden Arches just behind the row of buildings across the street, “how about some Mickey D’s, huh? Suck up some of that vodka?”

“No, I gotta get home,” she babbles into a belch.

“You know you want a McChicken? Oh, how about nuggets? You know the sweet and sour sauce is your fave.”

“Stop!” She nearly shouts in your ear.

“I’m not going home till I have a juicy Big Mac in these paws,” you drag her down the sidewalk.

“Ugh, I can’t believe it’s after two,” she manages to bobble beside you, swaying slightly as she keeps a hold of your arm, “I’m a mother! My kids–”

“Are well taken care of,” you assure her, “this is girls’ night and it’s not over yet.”

You turn the corner, a few others ahead of you seem to have the same destination in sight. In the back of your mind, you know you’ll regret it in the morning but right now, your mouth is watering for over processed meat and cheese. Maria hiccups and hums.

“I’m gonna feel like shit,” she voices your inner monologue.

“We can feel like shit together,” you laugh, “just like college–”

Suddenly she slips away from you. At first you think she tripped but then you see the shadow dragging her back down the pavement. You know that gait, that lumbering rhythm, shoulders squared, nostrils puffing like a bull. Really? That jackass.

“Frank,” you shuffle to catch Maria’s other arm as she stumbles senselessly behind him, whimpering, “let her go.”

“Let my wife go,” he marches but you cling to Maria, drawing him back, “stay out of my marriage.”

“This isn’t about you, we’re having fun–”

“You need to grow up,” he keeps one hand on Maria as he rears on you, wagging his thick finger in your face, “mind your fucking business and stay away from my goddamn wife.”

“She’s an adult. She can do what she wants–”

“I know your bullshit. You get her all worked up then talk her into your dumb shit. Because you can’t hold onto a man of your own–”

“Pfft, whatever, I don’t need some asshole like you, Frank Castle–”

You stagger back as his fist cracks across your cheek. You taste blood as you fall backwards onto your ass, crying out at the pain that zips through your hip, ankle thrumming as you manage to unhook your heel from a crack in the sidewalk. You whine and cradle your head.

“Oh my god, are you o–” Maria reaches for you, hanging from Frank’s grasp.

“Come on. Home,” he snarls and jerks her away, “where you belong.”

“Hey,” you get to your knees, head swirling as you try to plant a foot.

“You follow me and I’ll leave you in the gutter,” he stops and points at you again, “fucking trash.”

You spit out blood into your hand, frozen in fear and dizziness. You can barely believe he hit you. He really hit you. You just hope he doesn’t do worse to Maria.

[vigilanteshtagain]

HEADCANONS BECAUSE I'M BORED

GOJO

- Uses Instagram the way Millennials do (the first and seconds year's get second hand embarrassment)

- Drives like a maniac. Yaga has explicitly forbidden him to drive students around

- NEVER washes his blindfold, and if anyone suggests he should wash it he will get offended

- Cooks very well but settles for takes outs and fancy dinners with his students because he HATES to eat alone and has no one to share his food with back home, makes him even lonelier

- HAS to smell good ALL the time, and has a collection of different colognes, each one for specific ocassions

- Enjoyed taking Megumi to the park and playing with him, and wishes he wouldn't have grown up so fast

- Made hand crafted albums of every single little thing Megumi and Tsumiki have done, bad portraits of him and all

- Kissed sucked Geto's toes at some point, I'm not sorry

- Nevers answers the phone, much to Yaga's annoyance

- His heart warms up whenever his students bring him little gifts, like sweet pastries

- Defends his students with his LIFE, but this is canon already

- Is an ugly crier, like really bad. He yells when he cries. Shoko just stays there giving him the foulest glare.

GETO

- Refuses to cut his hair, no matter how many times Mimiko and Nanako have complained about finding long hairs plastered on the shower walls

- Keeps photos of his time in Jujutsu High in a box, and looks at them on lonely nights (specially photos of Gojo and him SHUT UP THIS IS CANON TO ME)

- Is allergic to nuts

- Has considered getting Mimiko and Nanako a pet, maybe a dog or a cat (I see them more as cats people)

- Definitely drew Gojo's eyes in the middle of class, multiple times because he couldn't get the colors "right"

- Is a tea person

- Sleeps like a victorian child on their deathbed, he's way too dramatic

- Tax evader

NANAMI

- Shops EXCLUSIVELY in brand stores. Dior, Channel, Gucci, you name it.

- Owns an air frier, uses it to it's maximum capacity. As soon as he got one, pots, pans and stoves doesn't exist to him anymore (I don't even know why I included this)

- Is in desperate need of a pet, this man needs some love and comfort in his life but his job as a sorcerer makes it difficult to have one

- Doesn't actually hate Gojo, he just gets heavily annoyed by him. After all, Gojo and Shoko are the only "close" classmates he has left.

- Pets stray dogs and cats on the streets and feeds them whenever he has time

- Actually likes that horrendous tie

- Knows how to play an air instrument, not sure which one but definitely knows how to play at least one

NOBARA

- Follows every beauty and fashion influencer, her for you page is flooded with that

- She's a Tini fan no doubt, La Triple T on repeat for days

- Can't dance to save her life

- Shows her affection through quality time

- Certified Barb along with Yuji, Nicki Minaj's biggest fans. Megumi acts like he doesn't care but he is just as Barb as they are.

- Her cf on Instagram is basically her day to day with the idiots she calls classmates (She likes to document them to have memories for the future)

- Actually very good at math, despite her not liking numbers.

- Gets road rage even if she's not the one driving

- Got Megumi into skincare

- The first one to propose a movie night between the first and second year's, she likes when all of them hang out

- She's the type to create a group chat to plan a birthday party for her friends and organizes everything

- Has a free pass to everyone's dorm, like she sees the door open and enters just to hang out, SHE DOESN'T CARE

- She enjoys training with the second years, specially Maki (NOBAMAKI FOR THE WIN)

- She gives practical gifts

- Gets way too much into TikTok drama, it's the only thing she'll talk about for days and it's overwhelming

YUJI

- Had a dog when he was little, probably named it something cheesy

- Likes reggaeton, in love with Karol G (a ver, quién no?), Jennifer Lawrence who

- Sunset pictures fill up his camera roll

- Doesn't like needles, still gets nervous when he get shots or vaccines

- He does this thing where he chews really fast whenever the food it's too hot to eat instead of letting it cool down. I don't know how to explain it but it's painful to watch, Megumi and Nobara smacks him on the head for that

- Definitely the type to bake a cake for his friend's birthdays, he bakes it with so much love I'm crying

- Gets his feelings hurt rather easily but he is quick to forgive

- Knows every single trending celebrity gossip and talks about it with Nobara and Megumi

- A KING at dancing, he can dance pretty much anything

- He gives very well thought gifts, like he really puts effort and pay attention to what his friends like

- He calls Nanami just to see how he is doing, needless to say Nanami is deeply touched by this

- Snores so bad Sukuna thought he was going to choke the first nights after Yuji ate the finger, now it's just background noise for him

MEGUMI

- Cuddles with his shikigamis on cold nights, and takes his demon dogs on walks

- He's very reliable, the first one out of his friends to find solutions to a problem

- SMART, but this is already canon

- Taught his demon dogs to steal and hide Gojo's clothes just to mess with him, he's a MENACE

- CAN'T TAKE A JOKE, he doesn't understand TikTok references it's so annoying.

- He looks like he's mad all the time when he's out, so bad sometimes people glare at him unprovoked

- The type to say no whenever someone asks him to do something but ends up doing it anyway

- Has thought about getting a tattoo related to his shikigamis in the future, but he's not really sure if he's going to get it done (Probably his demon dogs mark or Mahoraga's wheel because God he thinks about summoning it first thing in the morning, "With this treasure I summon" in italics tattooed on his forearm)

- Neat freak, NEEDS to have his room clean and organized at all times (if he doesn't, that will be his last straw and will summon Mahoraga)

- Gives well thought gifts, but plays it off and says it's nothing

- Bad grammar makes him wince, needless to say he has perfect grammar. His essays are perfect.

- He was that annoying child that corrected everyone whenever they said something wrong, like "Um, actually you're wrong because-", UGH. He's still like that but now he just throws a nasty glare and corrects them.

- His love language is acts of service but quality time is also important to him (despite how he pretends to hate hanging out with Yuji and Nobara)

- A very decent driver, Gojo taught him despite how he drives like a beast

___________________________________________

Sorry this was too long, but one thing led to another. Jjk brain rot is consuming me.

[chronically-ghosted]

Have Yourself a Moreno Little Christmas

rating: T

pairing: marcus moreno x f!reader

word count: 6K

summary: when the Morenos' happy Christmas is in jeopardy, you think quick and invite them on a trip to an old family tradition. If he’s grateful, would it be safe to tell him how you feel? But why do you think he might already know? What if he feels the same way?

warnings: heavily influenced by the movie While You Were Sleeping, your typical amount of angst for a romcom, mutual pining, ballet in the park, a moody pre-teen, brief discussions of losing a loved one (parent/partner), bad dad jokes, canoodling in the park, one steamy kiss and a few other softer ones

a/n: Happy Secret Santa @noisynaia! You had Marcus M as your number one Pedro boy of choice, and given that I’d never written for him before, I wanted to do something wholesome and sweet in the world of super heroes. The Nutcracker has always been near and dear to me so I hope you like this take on it! @pedrostories

This will be my last fic of 2023 so - much love, stay warm, and happy holidays! 🤍Masterlist

What do you get a man who has everything for Christmas? A tie? A money clip? Something aggressively manly that smells like woodsmoke, patchouli oil, and the raw sweat of a lumberjack after felling a thousand forests?

What do you get a superhero for Christmas? Indestructible tights? A decorative plaque for his swords? A life-time supply of gauze and iodine? 

What do you get for your boss, superpowered and single, with the ability to turn a paperclip into a rose? A silver ball into a flat pancake? Decorative swords into deadly weapons? What do you get him that is even remotely useful or exciting or heartwarming when he is so busy with being a single father and mentor, a symbol and an icon, all while running the world’s foremost superhero operation? 

Somehow, “world’s best boss” mug feels rather . . . subpar. 

What do you get him if he’s become one of your closest friends? When you try to wiggle some sort of information out of him about a potential gift on one of the many long nights where you’re stuck together doing paperwork for the UN and the NSA – but he is annoyingly vague. 

His daughter – a fiery mix of headstrong and thoughtful, soothed by a loving kindness that clearly runs in the family – is no help. She teases you with promises “oh yeah, definitely get him a new spatula” when you both know the man has never been anywhere near a BBQ grill. You give her the rest of the Reeses that didn’t make it into the community candy bowl anyway. 

You can’t ask for ideas from his mother, or his teammates, the security guards at the headquarter doors, anyone with eyes (who’s not ten years old) because then they’ll know, you sure of it. They’ll see and that’s just not something you can ever, ever, ever bring up because . . . 

What do you get for a man who is your boss, a superhero, a leader, a father, your boss, a very close friend, your boss, someone you very much admire . . . and as a result, have fallen deeply, painfully, achingly in love with?

Your still beating heart on a silver platter seems like the obvious choice. A bowl of your tears for unrequited love is a definitely strong second option. A lock of your hair so the FBI can easily identify you as his certifiably insane stalker – there we go, brilliant idea. 

A kiss under the mistletoe? A promise for more? 

That damned mug is looking better and better every day.

You knock three times, then one more before opening the door. Behind unnecessarily thick glasses, Marcus glances up, life returning to his face when his eyes fall on you.

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry to interrupt, sir, but the president of Belize is on line one for you.” 

The man with sticky, molded blonde hair sitting across from Marcus turns around and smiles. His teeth are freakishly white, all stacked together in tight, proper rows. His suit, freshly pressed and clean of any evidence of interaction with the world, carries a giant button on the lapel: Vote Tine!

“President of Belize, my, my, Mr. Moreno, you are a busy man!”

Marcus stands, his gaze peeling off you to the politician in front of him. “Mr. Tine, I apologize, but I have to cut this meeting short–,”

“Ah, it’s no trouble at all!” He stands, batting his hand through the air. “Just as long as we’ll see you at the next rally, right, Marcus?” 

He holds out a perfectly square hand and with a tight-lipped grin, Marcus shakes Tine’s hand. 

“We’ll see, Senator.”

“Wonderful, wonderful, alright, I’ll get out of your hair. Mr. Moreno . . .” he bows slightly before turning in the direction of the door. You catch a glimpse of him the instant the smarmy smile slides off his face as, with wolf-ish eyes, he evaluates you from your ankles to the candy-cane broach on your chest. You don’t smile as you shut the door after him – as if you’d be bothered by greasy politicians and their wandering eyes. 

Marcus all but slumps back in his chair before taking off his glasses and rubbing his eyes with his palms.

“Every time election season comes around, they all want the Heroics’ vote. Until Miracle Guy chucks Dr. Evil through the Empire State Building and suddenly it’s ‘we need these vigilantes off our streets’ . . .” He shakes his head and slips his glasses back on, watching as you take the vacated seat. “Sorry, none of this is your problem. What does the president of Belize want?”

“Well, if it makes you feel any better,” you say, tapping the corner of your pad with your stylus, “his slogan sucks. Justine Tine – just in time. I’m not unconvinced he didn’t change his name for the sake of a cheesy one-liner.” 

A small smile cracks open the dreary look on Marcus’s face. His eyes flicker to the door. “Seems like the type, doesn’t he? I think you’re onto something.” 

“So that’s item one, for the day.” You stand, curling your pad into your arms, you lean on Marcus’s desk, knee against the edge. 

He stares intently at your face. 

“Number two, I just checked our records and there’s no Dr. Evil anywhere in our data banks. The Empire State building is safe, for now, so you can stop worrying about that.” 

You mime-checking off something on your pad and the grin on Marcus’s face softens. 

“And number three . . .” you pick up the phone on his desk, that suspiciously doesn’t have any blinking red lights. Marcus frowns, noticing this for the first time, when you lift up the receiver and drop it down. His mouth parts.

“Belize has a monarchy. A king, not a president.” 

The frown deepens. You wait. And light parts the sky. 

“Oh. Oh – you didn’t – that’s – really?”

His eyes are round, wide, relieved, and you want nothing more than to run your hands through those curls. To rub those broad shoulders loose of their tension. But rearranging meetings and make up fake world leaders to give him a break is the best you can do. 

“Yes, really. The Heroics are prepared to make a sizable donation to Tine’s cause, and he will thank us at his next rally. So, Mr. Moreno, your next meeting isn’t for another hour, how would you like to spend it?” You smile, tapping your hanging shoe on the ball of your foot. “I suggest using it to eat something. Have you eaten anything today?” 

Marcus sighs, eyes falling shut for just a moment. “What, and I mean this from the bottom of my heart, would I do without you?” 

You avert your eyes before the heat in your cheeks climbs too high, his eyes on you, and you hop off his desk. 

“Would you, hmm,” you clear your throat, your voice cracking in half, “would you like me to order something and have it delivered, Mr. Moreno?” 

He’s chewing on the skin below his lip when you raise your head from the pad in your arms. Being indestructible is one thing; having his face entirely inscrutable is one of Marcus’s most impressive superpowers. He nods, the look of distant contemplation gone. He flips through a few of the notes you’ve left him on his desk – calls to return, items for next week, reports he needs to sign: busy work. 

“Yeah, uh, that’s great. Pick something up for yourself too.” 

The mood has soured and you’re not quite sure how or why it happened. A second ago Marcus looked like he was going to pick you up and twirl you around the room. Now, he doesn’t want anything to do with you. You nervously tap your stylus against your pad. 

“Yes, Mr. Moreno.” 

You turn to go, his head down, his gaze fixated on whatever isn’t you, when he calls out your name again.

“Oh, um, did you manage to get anything out of Missy abour what she wants for Christmas when she was here last Friday?” 

You pause, remembering the uncharacteristically morose girl spinning listlessly in your chair while you watched from the break room as the hot cocoa warmed up in the microwave. You’d never seen so much as a pout on the girl before and no matter what you did, she didn’t crack a single smile.

“No, she didn’t tell me anything, but . . .” Now this is the part of your job that you loathe the most: trying to figure out the line. You saw Marcus as a friend, absolutely, but it’s not like you went and played volleyball on the beach with him, or went bar-hopping, or whatever it is adults with friends do. You love Missy more than you thought you could ever care about a child who isn’t your own, but you wavered how much to press her on her mood, because how did she see you? Nothing more than her father’s employee, most likely. In the end, you ended up getting one word answers from her until Marcus left his office thirty minutes later. 

But here you go, overstepping boundaries . . .

“Mr. Moreno, is she alright? The last time she was here, she seemed . . . I don’t know, sad?”

Marcus’s jaw tightened, his eyes sharpened. You opened your mouth to profusely apologize when –

“Fuck.” Marcus tosses his glasses onto his desk and buries his head in his hands. The instinct to put your arms around him is so strong you take a step forward before you remember exactly who you are. 

How do you comfort the man you love when you shouldn’t love him at all? How do you comfort a superhero, when he’s a father first and human second?

Keeping the desk firmly between you, you drop your pad onto one of the chairs and as slowly as you dare, you touch his forearm. He leans, not away, but towards you. He lowers his arms as you keep your touch on him. You squeeze once, looking down at his hopeless expression. 

“What’s wrong? Did something happen with Missy?”

Marcus shifts his arm beneath your fingers, his fingers twitching, as if he wants to take your hand but instead puts his other hand over yours.

“This Christmas has just been really hard.” 

The words are out of your mouth before you can stop them: “tell me.”

He looks up at you, eyes warm and wide in a way that only his can. Indestructible in the face of evil, inscrutable with his secrets, Marcus’s greatest weakness is Missy, and he knows it. You know you’re crossing a dozen professional lines leaning over him like you are, touching him like you are, asking him to open up. But you don’t care.

He presses his lips together, hesitant. He won’t look you in the eye. “You have to understand something first. Missy’s mom loved Christmas.”

His hand over yours tightens gently as if he thinks you’re going to pull away. You hadn’t considered it but your palm went a little damp at the mention of her. 

Oh God, you’ve so played your hand wrong.

Marcus inhales, his gaze on your knuckles. “Isabel, that was her name, and every year Isabel made Christmas this big event. And every Christmas she bought Missy a little nutcracker. Missy was barely out of diapers at the time, I don’t think she even knew what they were, but she loved them. Thought they were the funniest things with their teeth and stuffy white hair . . . but he other day, going through the decoration box, Missy found them all and I guess she suddenly remembered all those Christmases with her mom and she, uh . . .” 

He taps your wrist with his thumb, a tell he has when he’s nervous. The seat squeaks slightly as he adjusts himself in it.

“I haven’t been putting out the nutcrackers that Isabel gave Missy. The Christmas after she died, I couldn’t bring myself to put out any sort of real decorations, except for the tree. Missy was so young, I don’t think she cared. But as she got older, she never asked about the nutcrackers so I hoped she just . . . forgot about them. And she did, until she found them last Friday.”

“Last Friday?” You feel like you’ve been sucking on cotton. “Before she came to the office?”

Marcus nods. 

“Oh, M-Mar-Mr. Moreno, I’m so sorry. That’s terrible.” 

“She was furious that I tried to hide something of her mother’s from her. And she’s right. I was a coward.” 

This move is an intentional one. You slip your hand out from his and cup his fingers around yours, as if guiding him. He finally looks up at you, guilt and shame and grief streaking his face like blurry rain against a window pane. 

“You are the bravest man I know, Marcus Moreno. You’re a superhero and a single father. Most people can barely handle one. She’ll come around, I promise.” 

You swallow the urge to bring his knuckles to your lips, and instead squeeze both of his hands and let go. You slide away from the desk, your heart tight in your chest when his thumbs pass over the palm of your hand. The look on his face is disappointed, you want to believe.

“Thank you. For listening and, uh, everything else. You’re right. I’ll just . . . well, I don’t know what I’ll do but I’ll figure something out.” He leans back, elbows on the chair’s handles. Marcus Moreno, or what you know of him, doesn’t like to dwell, so you watch some of the heaviness shift from his eyes the moment he decides to change the subject. “What are you doing for Christmas? Are you staying in town? Going to see family – or a boyfriend?”

The warm in your chest, lingering from his hands, suddenly bolts across your face. “No, no, um, no, there’s no one –,” Would it be pathetic if you fanned yourself with your pad? God, how does the man work in here for hours with no fresh air? “No, I’m not going home to anyone but I am . . .”

And suddenly there it is. A solution to your Christmas present debacle and maybe a way to save Christmas for Missy Moreno.

You shake your head, beating back the rising heat in your cheeks. “Actually, are you and Missy doing anything this weekend?”

Marcus seems taken aback from this sudden turn in the conversation.

“Um, no. I don’t think so. Why do you ask?”

“If you’ll let me, I’d like to show you and Missy something really, really special.” 

You swear the tips of his ears go pink. “Uh, okay. Sure. I-I’ll have to clear it with Missy, but yeah, alright. What time?”

“I’ll put it in your calendar.” You smile and slip your stylus back into your pad. “Have a nice lunch, Mr. Moreno.” 

He shakes his head and scratches the back of his neck as you head for the door. 

“How many times do I have to ask you to call me, Marcus? 

You pause with your handle on the door. “At least once more, Mr. Moreno.”

The mug drops to last place.

Good news. 

If you’re ever stranded on a desert island, you’ll survive because you are already intimately familiar with the taste of your own foot in your mouth.

Why did you open with “Hey Missy, your dad tells me you’ve been having a rough Christmas?” to a sullen, grieving pre-teen? 

And can time actually go slower, when the air is so stifled with tension? When you’re absolutely sure you’re breathing too loud?

You’ve been glancing at Missy in the rear view mirror for the dozenth time in twice as many miles. Her face is turned towards the window so you can’t actually see the murderous rage in her eyes, but oh wow do you feel it. Nevermind superpowers, this little girl could char you to a crisp with her eyes alone. Potential step-mom failure award goes to . . . 

“So.” Marcus clears his throat and you tear your eyes back from the back of his daughter’s head. The fraught silence of the car stretches just long enough after Marcus’s statement to grate ever so gently – “um, how do you, uh, know about this place? Wherever, we’re going.” 

You bite the corner of your mouth. Marcus doesn’t appear angry that you’ve soured the mood with Missy before the drive even began. In fact, he looks genuinely curious, the light in his eyes bright. If it weren’t for that single line between his brows, you assume nothing is wrong, but you know that almost frown. Marcus is anxious. 

Great. 

You settle back in your seat, trying to look as relaxed as you can in a pillowy jacket, your hat and gloves in Marcus’s lap, along with his own. The snow outside stopped falling only a few minutes ago, lining the trees and road with a crisp sparkling white. If anything, it ended up being a beautiful day. 

You flex your hand around the steering wheel, trying to summon courage up through your body like your lungs inhale air. 

“It’s an old family tradition, actually. My folks would take us out here every year to watch . . . to watch the show.” You glance at him briefly before checking to see if that piqued anything from the roiling black cloud in the back. It didn’t. You hadn’t told either one of the Morenos your plans for this Christmas day. “But I haven’t been back in a while.”

“Why not? And please don’t say it's because of work.” The lilt in his voice has you looking at him, long enough to watch a small smile uncurl. You really thought it was impossible for Marcus Moreno to get any cuter, but with his woolen floppy cap covering his ears and the little white bob at the end fluttering in the warm heater air, you force yourself to remember you’re driving a 3000 pound metal death machine if you stare, starry-eyed, for too long. 

“No, it’s not because of work,” you grin back and his own crosses completely across his mouth. “It’s not work related . . . but um, after my parents passed away, my brother and sister moved across the country.” Your hands crinkle around the steering wheel. “I’ve spent most of my Christmas’s alone ever since. Coming here without them, i-it felt . . . wrong.”

In the rear view mirror, you think you see her move.

“That’s terrible. I’m sorry.” The weight of Marcus’s gaze, his own planetary gravitational pull, has your nose drawing down then over. He looks genuinely regretful of your situation and you’re suddenly hit with the understanding that not only did Missy lose a mother, but Marcus lost a wife. 

Hell, maybe you can just continue up the bone and eat your whole leg while you’re at it. 

“Mhm hmm.”

The rest of the car right goes on in silence, except for the faint, ghost-like christmas carols playing from the speakers through your phone. 

When you pull off the dirt road and park your car in the cold grass with dozens of other vehicles, you can’t unbuckle fast enough. The patches of icy dead grass snap beneath your boots as you climb out of the car, and you’re struck in the face with a chilly wind. 

The words are on your tongue as you look at him over the hood of the car, the breeze snagging the little puff ball on the end of his cap, his glasses already misting over.

I’m so sorry, Marcus, this was such a bad idea. 

I don’t know how to talk about my grief or anyone else's and it’s been drowning me for years but I don’t want to pull you down with me. 

I’ll drive you anywhere you want I’m so– 

“Is this the Stanley Amphitheater?” Marcus takes off his glasses and rubs the condensation away. “This is where they have that jazz festival every summer, right?”

You’re so surprised by his tone that all you can do is blurt out: “yes.”

“So cool! I’ve actually been dying to check this place out!”

“Y-yeah?”

He smiles at you and you have to grab onto the door frame to keep your knees from buckling. 

“C’mon, Missy.” 

Tugging his hat further over his head, Marcus lopes forward and then he turns and reaches out for his daughter. The moment arcs, Missy’s stone faced glare demanding that he drop his hand, that he turn away from her, an inch away from leaving a mark that aches in a way that only a loving parent can feel from their loved child –

And she takes his hand. 

You watch them follow the crowd, blanket in hand, just a few steps behind them, and you breathe out.

Across the stone amphitheater, a low murmur of dozens of eager voices vibrate in the dugout cup of the earth. Children squirm with anticipation in their parents’ laps, couples share lingering gazes over steaming styrofoam cups of hot chocolate, an air of excitement and delight hovering between chapped lips and knitted gloves as the sun arcs lower in the sky. Just in front of the large stage, a live orchestra prepares, discordant cords breaking and rising like smoke. 

A man in a striped hat sells buttery popcorn and sweet, crunchy kettle corn in a small wooden hut a distance from the theater. A few families wait in line, children teasing one another behind their parents, their laughter light on the breezy air. 

“So, what is this?” Your head whips around at Missy’s first sentence all day. Marcus looks at you equally stunned. The blanket you’ve spread across three laps keeps you intentionally close so you have to lean back slightly to see her face.

“It’s, um–,”

“Missy, do you like ballet?” You ask

Beneath her maroon hat, her eyes lift up, her back straightening from its hunch. You wouldn’t call her look eager, but you cannot deny there’s interest. 

She nods. 

“Well, what we’re about to see is a very special ballet performance. Some people who have powers like your dad, they don’t go into crime fighting. Instead, they use their powers to make art.” 

She blinks, eyes widening. “What do you mean?”

“You’ll have to wait and see.” 

The fringe smile is hidden by a curtain of hair as Missy tilts her head down to her shoes, nodding. Marcus glances at you over the wool of her hat, surprise thinning the lines around his eyes.

“It’s getting kind of cold,” he says slowly, to no one in particular. “Anyone want some hot chocolate?”

“I do,” you wave. Missy nods, grumbling. 

Marcus waves over a woman in a striped hat as she wanders through the crowd. The metal box, hanging around her neck and strapped to her back reads, refreshments. 

He pays for three styrofoam cups just as the lights in the back of the amphitheater flicker and the orchestra winds down to silence. 

Despite the burgeoning chill in the air, and despite the grief dividing yet binding the three of you, and despite the fact that this may be your one chance for Marcus to see you as anything other than his assistant, you’re hopeful. Maybe it’s the music itself, that way that music has to ignite your soul when you need it the most, or maybe it’s the spirit of the season, but for the first time in a long, long time, you don’t feel so lonely. In fact, you can’t remember a time you’ve felt more connected than you do with the people next to you. 

Missy’s eyes are bright, flitting around the stage as if determined to not miss a single thing, the cocoa in her hands leaving a dark rim around her mouth that she is blissfully ignorant of. That already full feeling in your chest expands and you want nothing more than to hug her, hug her till she’s warm and hug her till she’s happy. Behind her, her father moves and it catches your eye.

Marcus has never looked at you before the way he is now. Inscrutable, undefined, but it packs such a punch in your chest it feels like you gulped down your entire cup of hot chocolate in one go. You turn away, fearful of what he might see in your eyes, and realize the enormity of what you feel, how it’s all consuming and tugs at you when you least expect it. 

The music begins to swell just as the sun sets and the lights at the rim of the theater fade. You take a shaky inhale – nerves and excitement and memories good and bad weighing on your shoulders. 

And then it begins to snow. 

But not from the sky and it’s not yet cold enough for the consistent sprinkle. Snowflakes tangle with your eyelashes, in the wool of your cap. Then Missy gasps as a translucent ice crystal the size of her palm trickles down into her lap. Glinting like glass, the intricate design of the crystal flashes once before disappearing – not melting – just gone. Around you, other children hold out, giggling their hands as more beautiful flakes of enormous size flutter down from the inexplicable snow drift. A few adults reach out to grab some that burst like bubbles, a wondrous awe crescendoing across the crowd. 

From the wings of the stage, a man and a woman, dressed in beautiful light blues and silvers, silks glittering with inset shimmering stones, walk across the stage, their arms moving slowly, thoughtfully. 

In sync, they coax the air and the snow follows in a dance of white. Delighted shouts rise up as the snow and ice spin together, arcing and weaving, capturing the essence of a winter wind. The pair on stage bend, their hands flung backwards in a bow and the ball of snow shatters in an icy solar flare, the million white flakes fluttering over the crowd. 

Out of the exhilarated murmur that overtakes the crowd, one noise stands out above the rest. 

Missy laughs. She laughs as she watches a snowflake melt on the end of her nose. 

You wish desperately you could squeeze her to you.

The crowd applauds the snow dancers, bowing again before exiting the stage, as a woman in black steps out. Her short-cropped hair is nearly as white as the snow still melting on the ground and her eyes are crinkled at the edges. When she speaks, her voice booms without the aid of a mic. 

“Thank you and welcome to another annual Stanley Kirby production of The Nutcracker.”

Missy’s smile doesn’t fall from her face. In fact it widens. Your heart is pounding in your chest, as you watch her from the corner of your eye.

“I’ve been directing this play for twenty years now and I can honestly say I find something new and beautiful about it every time. Winter is often seen as the end stage, symbolized through literature and poetry as the time when we humans grow old. But I like to think that doesn’t always have to be true. Spirit, however you like to think of it, is exactly that: an endurance, a bravery, a force greater than ourselves that we can either embrace or let slide through our fingers. We hope you leave today with a little bit more spirit in you. Thank you for coming and we hope you enjoy the show.” 

She bows as two men enter in from the wings, these dressed in brown and green, the crowd clapping for both the director and the new players. 

A little girl, in ballet shoes and a pink dress with ruffles, her hair down to her back and tied out of her face with a bow, joins them on the stage and sits down in the center as the heavy velvet curtains pull back to reveal a backdrop imitating a hallway. With a large door, two round, gilded mirrors and a single chair. 

The orchestra begins, the dancers lifting their hands with a wave of a conductor. 

Shadows flicker at the back of the theater, eliciting shocked, almost horrified gasps from the crowd. But you know what’s coming. You don’t turn around. You smile.

Beside you both Missy and Marcus stare, mouths open, as eleven foot tall wooden nutcrackers amble down the stone steps between the seats, their knees stocky, their weight uneven as they march towards the stage. Their giant mouths creak and groan as the switch on their backs moves without any visible force. The green and red paint shines in the lights from the stage, their silver buttons glowing like stars. The dancers in brown coax them closer with a curl of their fingers and a bend in their arms. They begin to sway and spin across the stage, their legs outstretched and their feet curved into satin shoes, the little girl paying them no mind. Instead, she gets on her knees and waves to the marching soldiers.

More awed gasps as now teddy bears then porcelain dolls, the size of elephants, follow the nutcrackers down the steps, the orchestra keeping time and building a sense of whimsy and joy. The little girl bounds to the edge of the stage as the first wave of soldiers approaches. With a kiss from her hand into the wind, the first nutcracker freezes and then shrinks, the dancer behind the girl flicking his wrist. The crowd hums with delight as the nutcracker, now the size of a toy, floats next to the chair. One by one, the little girl greets the marching toys just before they shrink and find a place next to the chair. 

With the last doll fluttering in the wind as it settles, the little girl spins and twirls until she drops into the chair and seemingly to sleep.

The crowd roars with joy, a thunderous applause swelling in the amphitheater. 

But, best of all, Missy is on her feet, cheering and clapping. Her face glows in the light of the stage, her eyes bright and hopeful, her cheeks pink and chapped. In the shadows that flicker of people moving and applauding, beyond Missy’s curly hair, Marcus stares at you in a way that makes your heart grow bigger with every beat, his own silent music swelling the cage of your ribs. 

He reaches out his hand for you and you take it. 

He keeps holding you long after Missy sits down and the ballet continues.

A nearby park has set up Christmas lights in the trees and on the pathway. Missy, after promising to stay close, has gone and disappeared in the dark, off playing with a few of the other children who stayed after the show was over. 

Families sit on benches under covered awnings, the dark night cold but not encroaching, a food truck selling churros and Mexican hot chocolate mystifying the chilly air into white puffs as they serve eager mouths and cold hands. 

You walk the lighted path with Marcus, your arm tucked up around his. 

The sounds of children laughing fill the comfortable silence between you two. 

“This is going to be embarrassingly underwhelming,” he says quietly, the warmth of his body enough to keep a shiver at bay. “But thank you. That was incredible. I mean, I’ve seen The Nutcracker before, but this . . .”

He trails off, shaking his head, awe curling his mouth open.

“It’s pretty fantastic, right?” You smile up at him and squeeze his arm. 

He closes his mouth just as his eyebrows jump.

“Kinda makes me wonder if I picked the wrong profession, if other people are using their powers like that.” 

You chuckle lowly. “Ha, as if there’s anything you could be except a superhero.” 

“What do you mean?” The tone in his voice makes you pause. Just around the curve of the path, you’re hidden by silver-dripped trees and frost-covered shrubs. No children run here and the lights on the path are muffled by the overgrowth.

His eyes are dark when you look into them, but dark in the way under the covers of your parents bed is dark, or the dark in your friend’s mouths when they’re torn open with laughter. Dark in a way that holds and comforts and sinks deep. White mist puffs from his chapped lips, nose pink and cold. The lint from his scarf has stuck to the base of his neck. 

“You have to save people. It’s who you are. I don’t believe for a second there’s any part of you that could sit by and watch terrible things happen to good people. Your powers don’t change that.” You swallow, fingering the snaps on his coat as you stand face to face, the decision to say the words on your tongue nearly splitting you apart. “You saved me. If that counts for anything. You saved me from being alone on another really shitty Christmas and I–,”

The soft but determined press of his lips against yours brings silence to the grove, your words dissipating into the air like snowflakes. The whole of the world narrows down to the sensation of his mouth on yours; you forget the cold, the chilly burn on your cheeks, the sweat on your hairline where your woolen cap sits. You forget the sound of people in the distance, forget the lights in the darkness. He kisses like he works, methodically, confidently, and with intention.

His well-kept mustache tickles your nose, his lips a little torn from the cold, but the heat of his mouth warms you to your core. He holds you, his scratchy mitten against your cheek, the rest of him staying perfectly still, letting you savor his touch, commit the shape of his mouth, and by the quietest of moans rumbling in his chest, you think he might be doing the same. 

In the split second where you think he’s going to pull back, he cups the back of your head in his glove, sealing the hair around your shoulders to the collar of your jacket. Emboldened by your soft inhale, he turns his head, opening his mouth and more of himself up to you, and you, in turn, run as far as you can with this. You slip your arms around his scarf, trying to get at the heat of his throat, as he gathers as much as he can of you into him. 

You aren’t sure who eases you both back down from the clouds, who lifts hands and pulls apart, but your mouths separate, your noses inches from each other, and great plumes of white mist rise from your heated gasps.

“So I’m not crazy,” he murmurs, his eyes nearly completely hidden behind condensation. “There is something here. You feel it too.”

“Yes, Marcus, God, yes.” You close your eyes and bump your head against his as he sniffs in the cold, his cheeks flaming.

“That’s what it takes to get you to call me Marcus, huh? A kiss that knocks your socks off?”

You shake your head, laughing, your nose seeking out the solace of his warm skin. “‘Knocks your socks off’, you’re such a dad.” 

“Yeah, I am. And you made my daughter happier than I’ve seen her in weeks. I’ll never forget that.” 

The heavy rasp of his voice has your eyes seeking out his. You can’t quite find what you’re looking for behind the glasses, but his relaxed open mouth, the tilt of his head down to you, begs for more.

“W-wait – wait, Marcus.” You fight the sudden spark of images flying across your mind; his bare hands, free of gloves and mittens and wool, lifts your shirt up and those soft lips imprint themselves on the curve of your stomach; scorching water turns his back bright red as he tugs your knees tighter around his waist don’t worry I’ve got you; waking up to him stretched out naked and loose and finally relaxed. Your heart squeezes at the mere fantasy. Everything you’ve ever wanted, inches from your outstretched fingertips. “Are you serious about this?” 

Marcus grins, kisses your nose, and pulls you in by your scarf, as if you could possibly get any closer.

“Yes, I’m sure. Very sure. I haven’t made a choice this easy in years. Wait, I want to look you in the eyes when I say this.” He lets you go only to smear the condensation away from his glasses. Remind him to wear his contacts the next time you go out in the snow. 

Next time next time next time

“There.” He slips those thick-framed glasses back over his nose and then takes your hand. He holds it near his heart. “I like you and my kid adores you. I’ve been slowly going crazy at my desk, hoping that the way you smile at me is only for me, and that you don’t know anyone else’s coffee order by heart.” You huff a laugh, if only to loosen the knot in your throat. “What? I’m serious.” He chuckles with you before taking you into your arms again. His lips are warm against your forehead. “I’ve had it bad for you ever since you started, but I never said anything because I knew you were new to the city and you didn’t need your boss crypt-keeping on you.”

“I think the correct term the kids use is just creeping, but I get your point.” You tilt your head up into his waiting gaze. Warm like chocolate. Warm like the sturdy earth. Warm like . . . “And if my employment is the only thing keeping us apart, then I totally quit.”

“Good, ‘cause you’re totally fired.” 

You both laugh into each other, mist rising from your mouths, the corners of your mouths splitting in the cold. The temperature is steadily dropping, but you can’t seem to care. In fact, one big gust of wind could blow you away, suddenly lighter than air. 

“So does this mean I don’t have to get you a World’s Greatest Boss gift?”

He kisses your cheek and you feel it in your toes. “You’ve already given me exactly what I wanted.” 

“Merry Christmas, Marcus.”

“Merry Christmas, baby.”

[etchina-danjon]

Haunted sex anon here would love to see you write out her pregnancy and birthing

Continued from [X]

Sakura just didn’t know how to explain to anyone about her pregnancy. As far as she knew, she was a virgin! And yet she couldn’t deny the multiple positive pregnancy tests, nor all the morning sickness she’s been having. None of it seemed real. Like she was going to suddenly wake up from this nightmare. She was just so young to be a single mother! Her parents were pretty quick to kick her out after finding out that she was not only pregnant but didn’t know who the father was. It made people think that she just slept around and got pregnant by some random man but it just wasn’t true!

Her friends took pity on her and helped her get a place of her own. It was small but had plenty of room for her and the baby. Sakura just couldn’t believe she was having a baby. It just didn’t feel real, and no matter how hard she dug in her memory, she couldn’t figure out who the father was. All that kept returning to her was that night in the inn and there was just no way that resulted in her carrying a child.

It all didn’t fully set in until she had her first ultrasound when she was one month along. Her eyes were wide as the nurse showed her the screen. Showing her the image of the baby growing inside her. It was then that she felt a rush of motherly love flow through her. It made her feel so warm and happy. Sakura felt proud that this was her baby. No longer did she feel scared and unsure. Now she was looking forward to being a mother. It felt like it was something she was always meant to be. The soul inside the baby was also influencing her feelings. Making sure Sakura would want to be his mother. Making sure she was attached to him and happy in her role as a young mother.

Because of her pregnancy, Sakura could no longer do ninja work, so in the coming months, she took on odd jobs to save up money so her and the baby could live comfortably. 

Sakura’s body changed with each month that went by. Her stomach pushed out more and more. Her small breasts plumping up. Hips widening, and ass becoming more round. She over all became so much more curvier and just glowed with motherhood. With each ultrasound she became all the more excited to become a mother. It was all going according to plan for the spirit that impregnated her. She had completely forgotten about worrying who the father was, accepting her role as a single mother and being completely happy about it. Despite the judgemental looks she got for being pregnant so young.

She was on her ninth and final month of pregnancy. Sakura’s stomach was huge at this point against her small frame. She knew she was ready to pop any day now but was still startled when she awoke to the sharp pains of her first contractions. They made her cringe but weren’t so bad at first. She doesn’t know what possessed her but something inside her demanded she give birth at home. Sakura couldn’t deny the demands of what her body wanted, so she didn’t seek help or go to a hospital to deliver her baby. She bore all the pain on her own.

Each hour that went by, the pain got worse. The contractions got closer together. Sakura could hardly focus on anything besides how tight her stomach was, and the pain she was in. The baby was pushing hard against her hips, it made them ache so bad. The building pressure was so unbelievable. She wasn’t sure what was worse, the contractions or the painful pressure. 

Pushing herself out of bed, Sakura held her stomach, limping towards the bathroom, pausing every so often to breathe through another contraction. She hopes maybe a warm shower would help things progress. Sakura had been checking her cervix on and off while she labored. She was dilating like normal but her water just hasn’t burst yet. Each time she pressed her fingers inside her, she could feel the baby’s head stretching her cervix and the hanging sack ready to burst. She was starting to grow impatient.

Sakura stripped, turned on the warm water and got in. Letting out a pleased sigh as the warm water relaxed her muscles. She leaned against the wall, rubbing her swollen stomach, reminding herself to keep breathing. In and out. The contractions had her legs shaking but it seemed like both the warm water and the gravity of her standing help progress things faster. Sakura wasn’t sure how long she stood there against the wall. Baring through the painful contractions that had very little time in between. Suddenly, she felt a sharp pop inside her as her water burst. Fluid and a bit of blood rolled down her legs, quickly being washed away by the water. Sakura was quick to push fingers inside her to check her dilation. Her heart skipped a beat when she felt she was finally at 10 centimeters. 

The time has finally come.

She can start bringing her baby into the world.

Quickly, she turned off the water, not bothering to even attempt to dry off she tried to get  to the bed. Having to pause to deny the painful urge to push until she was on the bed. Climbing up on the bed, Sakura got on all fours, finding the position more comfortable than laying on her back. She rocked forward and back, focusing her breathing. When the next contraction came, she opened her thighs and pushed. She pushed as hard as she could, letting out a loud cry at the pain. The baby’s head was pushing her hip bones apart as it started to press out of her cervix. Sakura knew giving birth would be painful but she never expected it to be this painful.

“Haa~ Haa~ I-i can do this… D-don’t worry b-baby, you’ll be in mommy’s arms soon.”

Sakura had lifted a trembling hand to rub her swollen stomach in a comforting manner. She just had to remain focused. Keep her mind on the fact that soon her baby would be there and she would officially be a mother.

“A-agh!”

Another cry left her, Sakura’s head hanging. She clenched her teeth as she pushed hard again with the next contraction. She could feel the head squeezing from her tight cervix, entering into her awaiting canal. The stretch made her insides ache but she couldn’t stop now.

“Mm.. Mm… Ngh!”

Sakura cried as she pushed hard again, more of the baby’s head sliding into her canal. The lips of her slit was already starting to bulge outward from the weight of the baby’s head. Twitching open and closed. Tears rolled down Sakura’s flushed cheeks, everything hurt so bad. It was so overwhelming. So many emotions were going through her. There was a thin layer of sweat coating her body at this point.

With the next hard push, her slit started to spread open around the head. The top of the head was starting to appear, showing off tufts of brown hair. Sakura rocked forward and back a bit again, her insides were so full. Stretched wider than she ever thought possible but she knew she was made for this. She was meant to be a mother. Her life has always led up to this, she just didn’t realize until she experienced the joy of carrying a child.

“AGH!! Ngh!! I-it hurts so much!”

Sakura cried as she pushed hard again on the baby, more and more of the head started to spread open the lips of her slit. Her hands were gripping tightly onto the sheets under her. She was so close to crowning, she could feel it. The next hard push forced more of the head out. Her slit was now stretched open into a wide O shape. The aching burn finally hit her, making Sakura sob. The lips of her slit twitched around the wide head, “I-it burns! I-it burns!” Sakura tried rocking again hoping to ease the pain. Unable to stop herself, she reached between her legs to touch the top of the baby’s head, rubbing it. Fresh tears rolled down her face. She felt a sense of pride and excitement. That was her baby. She was feeling her baby! It gave her the boost she needed to continue.

Breathing heavily, she waited for the next contraction and pushed. The head barely inched out a little before sucking back in when she relaxed the push. It left Sakura whining. This continued for a few more pushes. The head inching forward and then back, leaving Sakura in a painful crown. When the next contraction came, Sakura clenched her teeth and pushed as hard as she could. Turning her face red from the strain. The head inched forward more and more before POP the head burst out of her with a gush of fluid. Sakura let out a gasp of utter relief. Panting heavily.

She reached between her legs and cupped the dangling head of her child, “S-so close! A-almost there! Soon you’ll be in my arms!” Sakura rolled over, laying on her back, propped up, so she could hold onto the head and help ease the baby out, “Nnn! Ah!” She cried out as another contraction came, she pushed hard, the shoulders of the baby bulging her out more. The first shoulder popped out, and with the next push the second one popped out too. Sakura’s trembling hands were holding the baby as she gave a final, hard push, sliding the body from her abused insides and into her awaiting hands. She quickly scooped up the baby as it let out a cry of life. Sakura cradled the baby boy against her chest so lovingly. A sense of overwhelming pleasure rolled through her body. She laid back against her pillows admiring her new baby. The baby looked nothing like her with dark brown hair and eyes. The baby looked as he did in his past life. His plans were all a complete success. The young girl was able to carry him to term and birth him back into the world. Thanks to the spirit’s influence, Sakura was completely smitten with the baby. So overwhelmingly happy to be a mother.

With some slight work, Sakura was able to push out the placenta, and found scissors to cut the umbilical cord. Getting up on shaky legs she got a towel to clean the baby, and then wrapped him in a blanket. She settled back down on the bed, relaxing after going through all of that. She let her newborn son nurse from one of her breasts. Feeling so much love for him as she felt his small mouth suckling on her puffy, dark nipple. Pulling out her warm milk.

Because of the first spirit’s success in being reborn using her body, other spirits started circling her. It won’t be long before Sakura finds herself mysteriously pregnant again, now that it’s been proven she had the best body to give spirits new lives….

[darkmasterofcupcakes]

I think Heaven have two very distinct cultures.

Winners, who are at least decent people (at first anyway) who have their own morality from Earth, and Angels, be it the big G's direct creations or later heavenborn.

Things like homophobia would be foreign to the latter, same for marriage honestly I think, as they're just on a different vibe, and in general, heaven seeing genuine goodness being pushed would avoid the worst.

I'm pretty sure faulty interpretations of the Bible get shut down very quickly.

So overall, while the influence of Winners would affect things, it's not like it would be too much, especially when winners too would be influenced, unlike the Sinners who are stuck in Pride Ring but still disliked by the hellborns.

I view the disdain toward Angel Dust as simply a disdain for his actions while not caring of his emotions.

Doing drugs is bad, selling your body is bad, and Angel already is in hell.

That hell part really is important, because I think Lute wouldn't be like that regarding Winners who were prostitutes in life or other unsavory sex related jobs.

Beside, there's a difference in people's mind between sleeping with people and sleeping with a lot at the same time.

Just listen to her argument "crackwhore who fucked up already" and "he blew his shot", the argument specifically is regarding him already being in hell.

TLDR, that's just Lute not caring for Angel's reasons and being hostile because sinner.

Though Vaggie misunderstanding being in relationship with a man instead of being married to your child's father is understandable.

Overall, I think the members of the Sisterhood would be key to getting her to be honest about it.

The discussion between Lute and Vaggie about it is sweet to imagine, and it definitely make Vaggie angsty.

Small headcanon, but I think Vaggie wrote notes for her mom as a child when Lute wasn't able to be there and vaggie couldn't go see her, both so that Lute could see them and so that Vaggie don't forget something, and it was something Lute played along with, especially since before Heaven's phone equivalent, letter would have been the go to, just like for Hell.

And during the 3 year times she has been in Hell, she wrote letters "to her mom" when feeling too emotionally overwhelmed, despite knowing what Lute did to her.

The idea of the "Winners" and Heavenborn having different cultures from each other would make a lot of sense. Though I do think things can be complicated for people like Lute in my AU, who is Heavenborn herself, but was born to two parents who were "Winners", meaning she was raised more with their beliefs, but also learned and later developed a lot of the mindsets of most other Heavenborn.

That being said, I can and do imagine that there is some overlap in the beliefs structure, especially as time has gone on and more Winners would have been around to influence the Heavenborn. So, for example, I do think that while it wouldn't be as big of a scandal as it would be for Winners (especially ones like Lute's parents, who were likely alive sometime in the 1700s at the latest) having a child out of wedlock and choosing to be a single parent would raise some eyebrows among the Heavenborn. Though I also feel like, for them, "marriage" can just be two people being in a relationship and saying they're married; they don't need anything to make it "legal" or official.

Though I do feel like there are also things that Heaven itself considers even more of a big deal than they are on Earth and, honestly, in Hell for the most part. Two of those things being secrets and "rank". In reality, Lute being a single mother itself may not have been that big of a deal to most Heavenborn, but the fact that she kept the baby's father a secret was a bit of a scandal, and she kept the secret because while they could technically get away with having a casual "friends" relationship in public, with Adam being her superior/boss, she really wasn't supposed to be in a romantic or especially sexual relationship with him at all, and while they were mostly able to hide it, the baby did complicate things.

And that would make a lot of sense - Lute has a bias against Sinners and Hell, and the fact that she views herself as having "lost" her daughter to both by the time of the meeting would not improve her views on either. So of course, from her perspective, she wouldn't be willing to accept the idea that someone who was already deemed unworthy to get into Heaven could ever deserve a second chance. She just views demons and Sinners in particular, as flat out horrible people who will ultimately never be able to change.

Lute wasn't often openly vulnerable even to Vaggie when Vaggie was growing up, since she wanted to be "strong" for her daughter, to be the type of person she hoped Vaggie would want to become. But talking to Vaggie about her parents, and especially about her mother, did cause her to show a bit of emotion. Especially when young Vaggie, who was able to make the connection that her mom was sad because her parents weren't around, and the reason her parents weren't around was because they weren't happy about her being born, did ask if Lute ever wished she could still have her parents.

And Lute immediately tells Vaggie that even if she misses her parents, she wouldn't have given her up for anything. And if anything, she really feels sorry for her parents because, thanks to them not being willing to accept Lute's decision to raise her daughter herself, they're just missing out on getting to be part of Vaggie's life and seeing the person she's already becoming, even at that young age.

I could definitely see that happening. Vaggie especially did the "letters" a lot during the days she had to spend with Sera, when Lute had to go to Hell for the Extermination, and Vaggie was still too young to stay home on her own. And yes, she did still write the letters when she was in Hell, probably even up to the events of the series, but obviously she never sent them. Part of her wanted to just burn the letters, just write them to get those emotions and thoughts out on paper, but then destroy them because of the memories just doing that brought back. But she couldn't do that, so she has a little secret place where she just stores all these letters that she's never going to send, that not even Charlie has ever seen.

[claires-mind1]

All Yours

Jake Sully x fem!omatikaya!reader

notes: i don't even know how to properly use this app and I'm not a good writer I'm still learning. so expect grammatical errors and typos. i literally cannot do this i think about him every single second of the day.

neytiri doesn't exist here I'M SORRY i love her sm and i feel so bad but fr tho girl don't know what to do with all that Imao. sorry girl but you HAVE to share. and this is purely just smut so there's no specific background of the characters.

summary: In which Jake reminds you that he only belongs to you.

warnings: alcohol consumption, jealous reader, reader almost beating up some bitch, lack of using y/n cuz that shit turns me off, extremely soft!dom jake, shy reader, reader is drunk, sexual confessions, this is so filthy, oral fem!receiving, face-sitting, squirting, overstimulation, reader cries from pleasure, LOTS of fluff, praise kink, jake finds reader so adorable, extreme size kink, possessive behaviour but it's fluffy, they're just so in love, established relationship.

“If i ever hear you talking about my husband like that again, I'll cut this damn braid off that you're not gon' be able to think about any man ever in that dumb little brain of yours.”

Jake's eyes widen as everyone gasps. it hasn't even been five minutes since you left him with his warriors, saying you were gonna get drinks. he didn't even wanna come to this stupid party in the first place, but seeing you so excited for your friend's birthday and the fact that he can't let you be drunk out here all alone was enough reason for him to get along.

there you were, with your left hand tightly tugged around a girl's queue and your other hand pressing her wrists together on her back. you softly slam her head on the tree as you speak. the people can't do anything but watch since they all knew about your deep hatred for the girl for flirting with jake every chance she gets from the beginning.

normally you wouldn't care since this happens everyday. almost all of the pandora girls had their eyes on him since he arrived, even the mated ones. and you can't really blame them because you've been drooling over him too. but since you knew your feelings were reciprocated, the rest is history.

you, on the other hand, is no different. boys literally fight everyday to get a chance to court you. but then you and jake mated and no man ever dared to touch toruk macto's mate since jake always makes sure the whole clan knows that you're taken, that you belong to him. and now you guess it's your time to express that the olo'eyktan too, is yours and yours alone.

your eyes slightly red under the influence of alcohol as your thoughts go back to how she giggled talking about all the intimate positions she wants jake to put her in. well what she didn't know was that you and your mate had tried each and every single one of them already.

your ears perks up at your mate's voice calling your name and you turn to see jake walking fast towards you. he pulls you from the girl and checks your body for any bruises. your gaze softening as you look at his worried state but quickly turns into a frown when he apologizes to everyone for you and put his hand around your waist, proceeding to walk you home. but you don't say anything because of your lack of energy and the effect of alcohol making your knees weak as you hiss softly.

“are you okay, baby?” jake asks you now that you both are away from the crowd. your knees only getting weaker at his voice almost losing your balance. that goddamn pet name. and the way he says it so casually. his arm tightened around your waist as his other hand comes up to hold your tiny one at his side helping your body up. you feel hot at his touch and barely processed his question.

he hums looking at you who's completely looking down, too flustered to look at him, the pandora ground suddenly being interesting. no matter how much intimate you two have been, you can't help but be shy in these moments. eyes looking at his hand that's holding your tiny one. both of your hands would easily fit in his one palm. looking at those slender fingers reminds you of those nights when he showed you what they were able to do, what places they were able to reach.

your small steps suddenly stops as you remembered his question, “no.” you whisper just enough for him to hear, as you squeeze his hand. you take a deep breath and look up at him, and jake swears, he's never seen such an ethereal being as you and he still couldn't believe that you were his. he patiently waits as you try to speak but kept getting lost in his gaze.

“carry me.” you don't know what got into you as you say your words loud enough for him to hear, suddenly feeling the need to be closer to him. he doesn't hesitate as he proceed to pick you up in bridal style but you stop him and stand in front of him with his hands still around your waist. he gasps when you suddenly jump wrapping your legs around his waist. his hands immediately tighten around your hips to hold you up, afraid you might fall. “like this.” you say near his ear as his breath hitches feeling your own.

“but we're in public sweetheart,”

“and? we're not doing anything?”

you press yourself harder against him and bury your face into his neck. he starts walking and you can't help but notice how strong he is, again, carrying you like you weigh as a feather. you wonder how he felt when he saw your jealous state moments ago. did he find you hot and wanted to kiss you right there just like you did whenever he showed his possessive side? or did he just think that you're an insecure annoying bitch?

him on the other hand though, he sure as hell went with the first one. and he's gonna make sure you know that.

“you do know that I'm all yours right?” and he even dared to press a quick kiss on your shoulder after saying that, like a fucking cherry on top. you almost let a moan out as you unintentionally pressed the specific part of your body between your legs against his pelvic bone, your thighs slightly shaking at the friction. and that alone was enough for jake to know what was up.

he smiles as he gives more kisses on your shoulder and you whine when he starts pressing your body to his. his ears twitching when dick hardening moans of his name fell off your soft lips. “shh, we're here baby,” he walks past the entrance of the tent that you both share. he sits down on the mat and attempts to lift you off his lap before you straddle his thighs again. “no! stay.”

you swipe your thumb against his lips before eagerly kissing him. he returns the same energy, you both only stopping to take breaths. “gotta clean you up baby, aren't you tired?” he asks and you can only shake your head as you're too busy biting and kissing his neck, you smile when you feel his cock right under you. you're sure that your loincloth is soaked as you grind on him.

he feels like he might accidently fuck your brains out right here from the way you're grinding your cunt on his very much hardened dick. he can literally feel how wet you are from the way your slick's transferring through your loincloth to his own. and the way you're marking his body up isn't helping either. especially when he knows why you're doing it all considering usually, he's the one who does it. but he held back, letting you do whatever you want to him.

but when he notices you getting rougher with your ministrations, “are you in heat baby?” he jokes. and you stop momentarily to look him straight in the eyes, making sure to let him see your lust filled ones. “I'm always in heat for you jake,” little smooch to his lips before continuing, “just want you.” you pant against his lips as if you just ran a thousand miles. “want you so bad.” and you're back on his lips. and god it's turning you on even more that he's just under you, taking all that you give.

“you have me, sweet girl.” he says before pressing his lips to yours harshly. and that made you pull away looking at him taking deep breaths. you want him to know how fucking deep he got you in love with him. so you start, “Jake...”

“yeah?” he responds, all ready to hear you out, so ready to take whatever you're willing to give him. your grip on his shoulder tightens at the simple yeah, it's almost embarrassing that he knows the effect he has on you. must he really do this to you? for fuck's sake, you're willing to give him all of you, your heart, your mind, body and soul. hell, you would even die for him without thinking twice if it comes to any certain circumstances.

“you know, you are so beautiful, so so, so—” you emphasize each word, making sure he hears what you're saying. you can barely hear yourself as you struggle to speak. you feel like you're dreaming, and you wish to live in this dream forever. he encourages you, drawing tiny circles on your thigh with his thumb.

you cup his face in your hands and he leans into your touch. he smiles as he watches you adoringly tracing your fingers through each of his freckles. you fight the sudden urge to bite his lips until he bleeds into your mouth when you runs your thumb on his under lip, not that he'd mind.

“I love you, i love you. so, so much. it's too much sometimes I can barely feel myself, you're everywhere, I feel you everywhere, it's overwhelming.” your eyes are completely set on his lips and you know he's watching you, observing your every movement.

you throw yourself even closer to him, pressing your body impossibly hard to his own. “I want you close, always. I just want you to never leave me. I want you to hold me like this forever. I just—” your hands travel down to his chest, to his broad shoulders and to his thick and veiny arms, before coming down to his hands that are placed securely on your hips, thumbs grazing the dip of your waist.

you take one of his hands into your own, bringing it up between the two of your bodies. you wrap your small fingers to his pinky, admiring the difference before you place the large hand above your left breast, right where your heart beats for him.

Jake feels like he's the one who's drunk, he's never seen you this vulnerable before. it's not that he doesn't know about your feelings for him, you're literally the love of his life. your mind is connected to his own. even without making the bond, he can tell how you're feeling just by taking one look at your face. you're like an open book for him, so easy to read.

now looking at his hand, you took a deep breath before continuing, “when you're away and I'm home early, and I'm feeling—” you almost choke on your words and his smile only widen. you're so adorable, “needy? for me?” he coos. you nod shyly, “ye—yes, for you.” you stutter.

he hums, urging you to go on, and you do. “I try to do it like you do.” your voice now coming out slow and quiet. he always found your shy demeanour amusing, “do what? touch yourself?” he teases you even more when he sees that you started grinding down on his thigh, a movement so insignificant that only a person who's watching you as intense as jake can notice.

“hm-mhm, and it doesn't feel good, actually, it's nothing compared to what your fingers can do!” you whine, small fingers tightening their hold on his hand to show him what you mean, “and even if it does, I don't like it. I only want you to do it.” and jake curses internally.

“well it's a good thing you have me then.” with that, his hand slowly crawls out of your tiny palms to make their way between your legs. and your mind slowly goes insane as your arousal takes over your body. his hand disappears inside your loincloth before placing his thumb right on your clit directly, your body stiffening when he does so.

“it's all yours baby, I'm all yours. every part of my body belongs to you.”

“all mine?”

“yes, all yours.”

“all mine?” again. say it again.

“yes, baby. all yours. my fingers, my thighs, my mouth, my tongue, my heart and my cock. it's all yours, doll. I'm all yours.”

not a single sign of hesitation in his voice as he referred to all parts of his body that he let you use and own. he would repeat it all a million times and more if you wanted him to.

you thought you would last at least ten minutes before he makes you snap. “undress me.” you order before smacking your lips to his own. he was taken a back by your sudden demand but obliged nonetheless.

when you're fully naked, you try to lift yourself off of him so that you can submit to him and show him that you belong to him too. excitement rushing through your veins as you can't wait for him to dick you down like you're his personal whore.(you are).

that, was until he gently placed you back down on his lap. “I can't, I'm too tired.” he doesn't reply and instead, he lays himself down before moving you further up. what? and before you knew it, he somehow manhandled you into sitting on his stomach. what's happening? you thought he wanted you to ride him? but the next words that flew from his mouth made your jaw wide open.

“sit on my face.” he didn't have to say it. cocky bastard, you're so damn sure that he just wanted to get a reaction out of you. he can literally make your body move however he wants. he could've just sat you down on his face if he so desperately wants it, but no. he just had to say it, with such a seductive voice that it made your body filled with need.

the mere sound of him saying it was enough to make blood rush into your cheeks. it was just so lewd and tainted, both of your palms come up to cover your face while jake chuckles at the sight. you can lie and say that you don't wanna do it, but your body is already giving in. he can feel your wetness literally dripping down on his abs.

“I can't. I'll crush you.” your voice so small and fragile, full of uncertainty, and it only fuels him to prove you wrong.

“I'd like to see you try.” he says with a smug face. the act wasn't unfamiliar to you, Jake has eaten you out plenty of times before. it's just the position. you don't know how'd he even come up with that, you can only guess it's some sort of sky people stuff.

“c'mon baby, up. want you on my tongue baby, please.” there he is, he knows you'll eventually give in. he knows you'd do anything he asks and now, he's asking—no, more like begging to pleasure you? fuck, one must be fucking mentally insane to not want jake sully's face between their thighs.

you find yourself fantasizing about it even though your mate is literally waiting under you to make your fantasy come true. you both haven't been giving that much time into foreplay lately, though jake always insists on getting you ready for his cock with his fingers stretching you out. so eager to just feel each other, considering you both being busy with your duties all day.

but when you do it though, you both get so into it, especially jake. he makes it feel like it was the actual sex. you would beg for his cock and eventually give up, knowing he wouldn't stop until he's fully satisfied. so many nights, he's fingered you to sleep, keeping them inside your warm walls for the whole night, you'd wake up so guilty that you passed out on him without having him inside you. but he would quickly get you out of your thoughts, curling his calloused fingers inside you, still soaked with your cum, “morning, princess.”

but you can't blame him, you're just too beautiful. it arouses him, to watch you fall apart for him from the simplest touches. going down on you has always been one of his most favourite activities to do. sometimes he feels like he doesn't even need to fuck you. he could easily get off just from eating you out without touching himself.

he loves it. the way you'd desperately grab his hair and rut onto his face as he does everything in his power to get you off the edge. pushing his face into you as deep as he can, your slippery entrance swallowing his tongue inside, nose putting just the right amount of pressure onto your clit. these are moments where he gets the privilege of drowning in you. he can see you, hear you, smell you, taste you.

while you were distracted, he's already moved you up to his face, legs spreading on either side of his head, it's only when you feel him kissing your sticky clit, that you notice everything. your hips moves away almost immediately, it feels so lewd. but you can't go far of course, with the way his hands are gripping your hips, keeping you in place.

and Jake being the best mate he is, realized he's going too fast. so he takes his sweet time teasing you, trailing sloppy kisses closer to your core. his nips and licks at your arousal that are dripping down your thighs. “shh it's okay, i promise.” his eyes drinking up the way you pussy glistens and clenches around nothing as he smirks against your inner thighs. he knows you'll be begging to get his tongue inside you within minutes.

when he feels you getting relaxed, “that's my girl.” that was all he said before he hungrily nudges his nose against your swollen bud, taking a deep sniff of your arousal. his eyes are tightly shut when he smells your sweet scent. he takes the pink muscle out of his mouth before tracing the length of your cunt with it.

he starts to roll your hips on his face causing deep moans to come out from the both of you. the way he eats you is so, slow and sensual, as if you're the most expensive dish in the world. he takes his time with you, and it makes you feel even more frustrated. he rocks you against his face, tongue eagerly lapping up the essence coming out of you. “taste so sweet.” Jake mumbles, pressing a long kiss to your clit earning a loud breathy moan out of you.

his grip on your hips loosens from time to time willing to let you take control. he needs to keep his hands on you to not touch himself, it was supposed to be about you and he's making sure it stays that way. eyes tightly shut as he tries his best to ignore the ache between his own legs and he's not gonna lie, his cock is now so sensitive that he's sure the slightest touch against it would instantly make him cum, you just taste that good for him. but he ignores it, his full concentration only on you as his brows furrowed, focusing on your release.

but you can't. the moment you realize he's not guiding you anymore, you're lost. you're completely lost, your hips losing rhythm as your built-up orgasm is rudely interrupted by no other but you. you know he just wanted to let you know that you have complete control over him, that you can ride and use his face however you want.

it's not the same doing it all on your own. usually, you wouldn't even know anything, mind blank as you just lay on your back, letting him do all the work because you knew he'd take care of you. and he does. but now that you are the one who's doing it, it doesn't feel the same. it doesn't feel good.

so you just can't help but writhe above him not knowing what to do, your dripping cunt hovering above him now, ready to get up. your lover figures you just needed a break so he slowly hums against you leaving trailing kisses on your thighs. you can't even talk because of how frustrated you are, so you use your actions instead.

with shaky hands, you slowly catches his hands that are threatening to crawl away and place them back on your hips, right where they belong. “please...” was all you could mutter before he realised what you wanted. he raised his head enough to reach your pussy and pressed a soft kiss on your clit. he smiles against you, god she's gonna be the death of me. your actions arouse him even more, letting him know that you want him to make you feel good, you want him to do it however he wants and you'll take it without a single complaint.

“I love you.” he mumbles into your pussy, before slowly sinking you down back on his face. you jolt as he kisses your cunt slowly as if he's trying to savour every moment. and the truth is, he is, he doesn't want this to end ever. he knows you wouldn't have agreed to do this if you were sober, too shy. but god he wishes you were drunk all the time so that he can be smothered between your thighs, eating his favourite meal all the fucking time.

he kisses your labia the same exact way he kisses your lips, pulling at it before exploring your folds with his tongue. the wet sounds of him kissing your clit and muttering things to it makes your head spin. “so pretty,” smooch “so good...” smooch “doing so good for me.” followed by his loud moans sending electricity right through your cunt.

when your moans get louder, he uses the tip of his tongue to tease your hole pushing it in slightly before pulling it out, leaving your cunt to clench around nothing. he feels you move above him trying to get his tongue inside you. he chuckles as he looks up at you to see his favourite sight. eyes tightly shut as you grind down on his mouth using the guidance of his hands.

and that's when he suddenly stops. your eyes cracked open, immediately looking down to see if he's hurt. “I-I'm sorry, are you hurt?” your folds hovering his face once again. and you were met with an unreadable expression of your mate before he pushes your knees up, putting you into a squatting position above his face. no way. “keep your eyes on me. I need you to look at me while i pleasure you yeah?”

and with that, he sticked his tongue out and quite literally slammed you down on his face causing the pink wet muscle to slide inside your hole, earning a loud moan from you at the sudden penetration of his tongue. you unconsciously try to pull away, the pleasure being too much for you. but he only pulls you back down making a wet slapping sound.

you obeyed his command and kept your eyes on his that are looking straight at you, half of his face buried under the weight of your cunt. he bounces you on his face and twirls his tongue inside you. at this point you don't even care anymore because it felt unbelievably good. your legs were spread wide for his face to settle in between, it fits so well. jake thinks this is right where he belongs and he wishes to stay like this forever.

you moan his name as he moves you up and down, smearing your arousal that keeps oozing out of you on his face. he sticks his tongue as deep as he could before pressing his face into you, nose nudging against your bud. he works two jobs between fucking you with tongue and sucking the life out of you from your clit.

it doesn't take you long before you are trembling above him, chanting his name like a prayer. you would've lost your balance long ago if it wasn't for his strong hold around your thighs. he focuses on your clit, flicking the sensitive button with the tip of his tongue before taking it into his mouth to suck.

he presses his tongue flat against your sore pussy before he shakes his head side to side, the movement being hard and fast to give you that pleasurable vibrating friction. soon, he feels you lose it, hands coming to his hair to pull at it, hard. hips desperately trying to move away from his unresting mouth, indicating him that you're about to reach your high.

final and the loudest scream of his name fall from your lips before you completely and utterly lose it. you're sure the whole world of pandora heard you, but you both couldn't give a fuck less about that. in fact, jake's proud of it. he feels your cunt dripping into his mouth and he pulls away just for a millisecond.

“yes baby. such a good girl, gushin' into my mouth oh—” he cuts himself off, lapping up the mixture of your slick and his spit that streams out of you. your lover moans into you, dipping his tongue into you once again, to get more of your sticky liquid. his hand coming up to rest on your stomach, thumb lazily drawing circles on your slick coated clit. he knows you're sensitive but he wants more.

he still tries though, fucking into you slow with his tongue, helping you through your orgasm, hands patting your thighs for comfort. you wait for him to stop so you can get off, but he doesn't. his hold on you only getting tighter as he spreads your thighs even wider. his chin comfortably tucked between your ass cheeks from how deep he's pushing his face into your cunt.

he keeps you plugged full with his tongue, letting you ride it as if it were his fat cock, causing your slick to drip down his tongue directly into his mouth as he gulp the sweet essence down his throat.

you feel like you might die, you thought it was gonna be like a one time thing. you hear him hiss for a moment before he's tugging your legs to his arms. hands holding the underside of your thighs, and then he lifts you off of the bed. you can barely feel your toes touching the mat, your whole body weight on him as he finally reaches his goal by making you actually sit on his face.

your ass resting on his chin as he impatiently buries his face into your warm cave. you want to squirm away and just stop everything because never once in your years of living, did you ever think about actually sitting on someone's face, specifically jake sully's. but you knew better than to move, too afraid that you might hurt him. and even if you tried, he would just yank you back down to where he wants, anyway.

even though you are on top, you don't have much control over this. well, he tried to let you, but you both knew that you've always preferred his way of doing things. tears are starting to form in your eyes from the overstimulation, but you love it.

you love the way his face fits between your legs just right, mouth pressed to your pussy like a human on pandora with an oxygen mask. you would laugh if you weren't just as desperate, with the way he's acting like he might die if he stops, groaning loudly when you try to push his face away, even if just for a second.

you look down to see if he's comfortable but when you did, he's not even looking at you anymore. eyes tightly shut in concentration as he drinks up your slick. it's almost like he's enjoying this more than you are. he rocks you hard against his face, using every muscle to stimulate your core to death.

even though you're a little concerned, this was no surprise to you. Jake has always been wild when it comes to sex. you'd known that since the first memorable night you two had shared. he never even let you spend your heats alone. and for that reason, you rarely touched yourself but mostly because you never felt the need to. he always kept you full and satisfied, even had his little inside joke that he's gonna need his wheelchair back, not for him, but for you.

my jake's so mesmerising, you think. it was a sight, seeing such a pretty face coated and smeared with your arousal. it boosts your ego, seeing a powerful man that so many people bow down to, between your thighs with you sitting on his face, worshipping you like a goddess, so desperate to pleasure you.

and just like that, he coaxes three more orgasms out of you in just a tiny amount of time that it's almost embarrassing.

your throat is sore just like your little clit that's still in jake's mouth. you're sure that he must be hurting too, he didn't even do anything or let you do anything to get him off. he just lets himself suffer and you don't know how on earth is he able to be still so collected, acting like he doesn't have a very angry dick to calm.

even though you can barely open your eyes, tears streaming down your face, thin coat of sweat covering your skin, panting like a dog with your tongue rolled out, you love what's happening, though you'd never say it out loud.

before you know it, two thick slender fingers are plunging into you, making you scream. “c-can't 'nymore! too much. too much!” you can't even form proper words because of the tongue, that is now relentlessly working on your sensitive and overstimulated clit. the way he's fingering you isn't what he normally goes for, it's hard and rough, almost like he's chasing for something.

he watches your hole welcomingly sucking his digits in. “I know, i know. just give me one more baby, just one more then we'll be done.” Jake once again gets you to obey. you feel so small above him as you chant, Jake. Jake!

“Jake! something's coming! I—” he hopes it's what he thinks it is. “shh, let it go baby, I'm right here. I'm gonna take care of you.” and you do just that. and it happens. he feels your whole body shake and your thighs pressing together above his face before he splitting them open again, not wanting to miss the sight he's been dying to see.

jake watches in awe as the clear liquid squirts out of you, pushing his fingers out from how powerful it was. eyes widening as you pour on his face and rolling down his neck and chest. some of it even getting into his mouth, letting him taste your immense amount of pleasure.

he traps your sore clit into the gap of his two fingers and he shakes it as the remaining juices sprays onto his face. and jake fucking whimpers into you as if he's the one who's being pleasured. "so good for me, fuck, yeah just like that. so sweet." your small body shaking and writhing above him was such a pleasing sight. and he's still shocked by the fact that it was all because of him.

he keeps you firm on his face, tongue slowly licking your sore pussy still, making sure you fully rode out your orgasm. he looks up at you just to see your pained expression, you're crying. what the fuck. he lifts you gently off his face, sitting you back down on his lap.

you let a whine out from the friction when the bulge from his crotch touches your sensitive button, which he backs off when he realises. he panics when he sees that you still haven't opened your eyes. “hey, hey! baby...” you smile like an idiot when you hear the familiar sweet like honey voice.

“look at me?” he pleads.

your eyes slowly open but you still keep your head down, too embarrassed to look him in the eyes after what you just did as you mumble a few sorrys' and sob through whatever you were saying, still too fucked up to process anything. but jake wasn't having it. so he starts “look at me,” grabbing your chin up to make eye contact. “you did so good, such a good girl for me. I'm so fucking proud of you. I love you baby, you were so fucking hot you know that?”

now, his voice is clear, you're sobering up, as if he'd just sucked all the alcohol out of your cunt. he reaches for the bowl full of water on the side of the bed and brings it near your lips, giving you no other choice but to drink.

your gaze finally lands on his face and Jake almost let a giggle out from how you completely dipped your head back down. well, how can you not when his face was completely soaked with your cum, your arousal dripping down his face like sweat. he spares you, rubbing your slick off his face with his forearm.

you're sobering up. god, what do i do? a million thoughts runs into your head, eywa please. the way he's looking at you as if you're the only woman to exist in the whole universe, it's not fair, please stop. you beg.

shoving your thoughts away, you lean in. your eyes trailing down to his body, landing on his loincloth, fully soaked with his- wow did he just? you catch a glint of shyness on his face. you tug at his bottom, seeing that he's still rock hard. “no, I'm okay. you need to sleep.” so what? that was it?

“I don't wanna sleep.” you glare, continuing to untie the string on his loincloth.

“princess, you don't have to.” he insists. bringing your hands back in front of his face before pressing kisses on each knuckle. he scoops you up as if you're some doll and lays you down. you don't wanna lie, of course you're tired. but you at least need to feel him, so you try. you pull him by the neck so that he falls on top of you.

“you said you're all mine...” you pout and jake's eyes soften.

“I came just from eating your sweet cunt baby,” you slam your eyes shut from his words. god why? he's so shameless with it too.

“completely untouched.” it makes your stomach filled with guilt as much as it fills you with butterflies.

he buries his face into your neck, which had become his comfort place on your body. you notice that he does it often, whenever he's tired, upset or frustrated. he heavily breathes into your skin as if he's holding back, you know he is. his cock is still hard and you are still wet. you need to feel him, feel his body, feel his soul.

so instead of talking, you quickly tug your longest and the thickest braid before grabbing his own. bringing the ends together, you catch how messy his nerves are moving, revealing the state of his mind. they immediately recognise yours as they rush to tug at each other.

jake's eyes widen at the sudden intrusion of you in his head. he can never resist you, not when he can feel you, not when he can feel the way you yearn for him, the way you beg for him, the way your mind is filled with nothing but him. you didn't give him a chance to prepare, your being taking over his head, he needs a moment.

“inside, want you inside.” before giving him a chance to deny your desire, your hands quickly work to untie the strings on his loincloth while he's was still processing all your thoughts in your head through the bond. it's all too much for him, it always is. whenever you both make tsaheylu, the mere need you feel for him amazes him, makes him wonder just how someone could love him this much.

with his head still buried in the crook of your neck, he feels your fingers wrap around his girth, earning a whimper from him. “you said this is mine too...” you softly say with a frown. “yes fuck yes, it is baby.” you align his length with your entrance, “then please.”

who the fuck is he to deny?

wow now THAT was something 😋

tell me if y'all want a part 2

[mileyjassie]

𝗠𝗬!𝗢𝗛!𝗠𝗬!

𝘗𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨: 𝘒𝘪𝘮 𝘏𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘫𝘰𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘹 𝘍!𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝘎𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦: 𝘚𝘮𝘶𝘵 🔞

𝘞𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵: 5.7K

𝘚𝘺𝘯𝘰𝘱𝘴𝘪𝘴: You fall in love with the new student, he's a bad influence for you, but you've never felt better.

𝘈𝘶𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘳'𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘦: He's a jerk y'know, she's a jerk too, let's be honest. Teenagers doing teen drama in a classical high school cliché. Totally inspired by "The Heathers" (not the movies) and all of this JD and Veronica shit. Ah, the Camila Cabello "My OH My" song too...

The car insisted on making me crash into the walls, I wasn't very good at that stuff anymore, despite liking bumper cars I didn't know how to drive them very well.

It didn't take long for everyone to start laughing, it was really embarrassing, I tried not to look around, ignoring the car that hit the back of mine, the guy in it contributing on making me more uncomfortable.

I saw the guy who was taking care of the carts approach and take me out of that situation for the second time, a smile stuck on his face.

"You don't seem to be doing very well...There are people wanting to get in, do you mind if you share the cart with someone...who knows how to drive the toy?"

I pulled the corner of my lips, my face burning with embarrassment, becoming so dispirit that I couldn't give the guy a single smile, not even a nervous one.

"I-I wasn't supposed to be alone, I know I can't drive, but they left me here, sorry to disturb you..."

"Can I do it then?"

I confirmed with a nod, seeing him walk away. Soon a guy entered the lane, his dark eyes finding my cart with a thin, sharp smile, intimidating in a certain way. When he got closer, he lowered his head, looking me in the eyes, I waited for any joke to come out of his mouth, because his smile didn't break with any new expression he could make.

"Thanks, lady, I was getting impatient from waiting in the line. Is it really okay if I drive it?"

I blinked a few times, agreeing almost automatically, standing up so he could sit in my seat.

"I'm terrible at this."

"I watched." He let out a short laugh, turning the cart around. I was glad to see it finally actually moving. "Why did you come then?"

I pursed my lips, looking at the audience on the side of the track.

"I came with some friends, one of them said she would be with me, but after we sat down she abandoned the car and left the track, saying that I could do it by myself." I looked for them around with my eyes, not at all surprised when I didn't find them anywhere. "They were there a minute ago, laughing. But I don't see them anymore."

His smile faded a little, but he didn't say anything about it, letting out an "oops!" and hitting the car near us, making me laugh.

"Are they really friends or is this just some kind of joke?" He commented in a malicious tone, looking at me quickly, letting go of the steering wheel at once to make the car behind us hit our back.

As we leaned forward with the impact, the boy with the black hair slicked back gave me a wide smile, his eyebrows jumping excitedly at what he had just done.

We let out a few laughs, he followed others with the car again, and I watched him do so.

"Colleagues I think... they invited me, I saw no reason to deny it."

The corner of his mouth tugged to the side, an unconvinced expression on his face.

"I hope you've seen it now."

I frowned, feeling good about his empathy, despite his intimidating appearance, he was being the best company for me that night.

I watched him for a while, following his smiles as he played some other joke around, looking at me to check if what he was doing was also amusing me as it amused him.

"What the hell?!" He exclaimed, catching my attention, but I only found more excitement on his face.

"What?" I asked frantically, looking around. "Are they after us?"

"No! They're running away from us!"

I let out a nasal laugh, looking at him almost in disbelief.

"What's your name?" I murmured, he didn't hear me well, so he put his hand to his ear, not taking his eyes off the track.

"I didn't hear you, cutie, louder."

I opened my eyes wide, blushing.

"Your name."

He smirked, tilting his head back a little, turning his face to look at me in a slightly mischievous way, carelessly letting go of the steering wheel, crashing us into the wall.

"Hongjoong."

His eyes were penetrating and his nose was perfectly sharp, he was also full of piercings in his ears, his eyebrow had two cuts across it and a piercing in the middle, he wore some rings and had an undercut too. Really interesting look.

Even so, his personality was a contrast.

And I fell in love.

[ ... ]

I closed my locker after taking out my things, avoiding meeting the girls who had abandoned me at the amusement park. In a way, it wasn't so bad, Hongjoong, who saw me leave the place alone, asked if I wanted to have ice cream, and so we continued the night.

Unfortunately, I was ripped out of my reveries the moment I saw my semester project glued on the wall without my consent. My ideas being stolen again.

"Why are you using my project without telling me? Why didn't you ask?"

I only received a dull look, the colorful makeup sicken my vision.

"I'm only putting it in because I was asked. But whatever, it's the classroom's project anyway, everyone wins."

I furrowed my eyebrows, clenching my fists.

"It's my project! Not the classroom's!"

"Listen, girl, stop being selfish, you think you're big shit." She said disgustedly, leaving me behind.

I hid my fist in my pants pocket, clenching my teeth and continuing on my way with a lowered gaze.

Was I selfish? Really?

My eyes widened in alert when a hand suddenly met the wall in front of me, an arm stopping me from going my way.

I studied the leather jacket for a few seconds before finding the relaxed face of the boy I had met the day before, his same hairstyle and piercings catching my eyes.

His smile grew with my astonishment.

"Scared you?" He tilted his head, moving closer.

"Hongjoong!"

"Surprise!" He laughed weakly, shaking his other hand.

I leaned against the wall, trying to move away from his proximity, feeling my fingers freeze with his sudden presence.

"Why are you here?"

Hongjoong smiled at my comment, clearly mocking my silliness.

"What else could I do in a school? Blow it up?" I was startled by his bad joke, shifting my gaze to the corridor, seeing some students looking at us weirdly. "I've been transferred. New city, new school."

"Ah... You're a new student..." I murmured, trying to move away, he noticed and walked away, putting his hands in his pockets.

"If my company bothers you, I can leave." He said in a despondent tone, already seeming disappointed with my reaction.

"No!" I exclaimed, pushing myself away from the wall. "I was just a little embarrassed."

His eyebrows arched, chin crinkling while taking a lazy look around us, finding nothing interesting.

"Ashamed of me?" He remained with his hands in his pockets, not seeming to understand at first what kind of embarassment I had felt.

I observed him completely, surreptitiously.

I certainly wasn't feeling embarrassed of him.

"I think you got it wrong. Don't be mad." I asked politely. "I need to hurry to class, but we can meet up later if you want."

Hongjoong looked at me slightly, turning and shrugging.

"Sure." He withdrew, strolling down the hall. "I'm not one to feel embarressed..."

I looked at him impressed, choosing not to answer him and go straight to my class, despite having the boy's voice stuck in my thoughts from the beginning of the class until the end.

In the end, I was dying to see him again.

Luckily, I actually did.

When everyone left for break, he was already waiting for me outside, hidden behind the door frame, pulling me by the wrist and finding me with a small smile.

"If no one's watching, you won't feel any embarrassment, will you?" He leaned toward me, softening his grip on my wrist.

"You almost scared me to death, Hongjoong! Is this a hobby of yours?" I adjusted the strap of my backpack, putting my hand on my chest, soon hearing him laugh lightly at my reaction.

"Aren't you going to show me the school?" He pouted, feigning sadness as his earrings swayed from side to side with every movement he made. "I feel so lost...I need your help."

I looked away from his provocative expressions, hiding a smile, I pretended not to notice his warm palm squeeze my wrist from time to time, so that I didn't have to ask him to let go of me.

"Of course I'll show you." I commented as I left little by little, looking at him slightly so he would follow me, this one unfortunately having to let go of my wrist, but remaining close enough.

We sat on a concrete platform, a little distance from the other students. Hongjoong supported his body weight with one arm behind him, holding a can of Coke with the other, watching me eat quietly, I watched random corners, not really knowing what to do.

"Oh!" He said, letting out an amused chuckle. "That's the kind of embarrassment you were talking about." He conclued satisfied, smiling.

I turned my face to look at him, unable to deny it.

"Y-Yeah..." I laughed nervously, noticing some students passing by and looking at us. "Why was it so difficult for you to understand?..."

Hongjoong looked at me disinterestedly, shaking the soda can as if it had become more interesting than the conversation.

"The other type occurred more." He wrinkled his chin, looking away indifferently, leaving the can aside when he took the last sip, now using both arms for support. "Do you always snack like this? Alone?"

The way he asked that certainly didn't make me confident enough to lie, but I felt like I didn't need to keep up appearances with him.

"I prefer it this way."

Hongjoong smiled wide, making his eyebrows jump.

"Took my advice, huh? Dumped them?" He waited for the answer anxiously, his black pupils shining for a moment.

"Not really. I just avoided them today." I watched his reaction in silence, not seeing him do anything other than lay his head on his shoulder and return the look, a gesture that lasted for a few long seconds until my face began to heat up.

"Don't look away." He said quietly, I turned my face again to find him still in the same position, relaxed as always. "I was enjoying."

I pursed my lips, taking another look at the boy, surreptitiously. It wasn't like I was that kind of person, but this boy...damn.

We looked at each other a little more, until the break was over.

Hongjoong rolled his eyes, huffing.

"Don't you want to skip class with me?" He extended his hand, as if the simple gesture could convince me. And he almost convinced.

"One of these days, maybe." I smiled, getting down from the platform and turning to look at his still very comfortable posture above. "You won't come?"

The boy glanced at the sky, a displeased pout on his lips proving his displeasure.

"I will." He crawled to the edge, climbing down from the platform. "But just to accompany you, I don't want to see that face sad." He smiled full of himself, tapping his index finger on my chin, leading the way, but stopping to look at me from the side and wait for me to approach.

"Thank you for your kindness."

His arm rested around my shoulders, staying there. I internally thanked him for the initiative, smiling a little, without peeking if he could see my happy face.

"I can be much kinder if you wish..." he whispered behind my ear, his face burying into my hair. I shivered for a moment, he noted, softening his fingers in his grip.

I remained silent for a few seconds, turning my face to meet his curious eyes.

"Are you free?" I said with all the courage I had, Hongjoong held back his smile, his eyebrows jumping in amusement.

"If that's an invitation then I'm grateful I'm no longer am." He spontaneously squeezed my shoulder, giving me a warm smile.

We slowly separated, waving and heading to different ways.

[ ... ]

It was our fourth date that week, but I didn't know if we were going too fast or this feeling was just a reflection of my lack of experience.

Hongjoong cornered me against the wall outside the small store where we bought our milkshakes, tasting his before wetting his lips and lowering his face, I held mine tighter, ignoring the fact that the cold plastic was starting to irritate my palm.

"You hold back too much... what are you waiting for?"

I frowned, taking time to respond.

"What you mean?" I murmured, letting my eyes roam over his face. "Do you want me to do something?"

His gaze dropped from mine to my mouth, and without leaving from the spot he put the straw back in his mouth, giving me a prominent roll of his eyes, raising his eyebrows.

"We both want something to happen, doesn't matter who does it...but I would appreciate it if it happened to be you." He smiled as he bit the plastic straw, walking away. "But not now." He reached for my hand, pulling me close to him and putting his arm around my shoulders, making us walk along the sidewalk.

"When?..." I asked quietly, hiding my shyness.

"Soon, princess, but not now." He repeated, tilting his head to look at me, using the unoccupied hand on my shoulder to gently scratch my jaw with his fingernail. I smirked, looking away and drinking some of my own milkshake, wrapping my arm around his torso.

In fact, I couldn't control it, his arrival in my life made everything start moving too fast, I was enjoying it and starting to ignore any moralism that forced me to slow it down.

We got into his father's car, parking on a random dark corner near a random place, then I saw Hongjoong lower his seat and lie down after locking the car doors.

He only needed to look at me for a few seconds until I was already sitting on his lap. His relaxed face waited for me calmly, fingers adorned with rings searching for my fallen hair, removing it from his view.

"Why are you holding back so much, my love?..." he murmured, his hands stroking my hair slowly, pleasurably. "Haven't you realized that you're already my girl?..."

"I am?..." I asked with my hands on the sides of his torso, watching a calm and soft smile form on his lips.

"Aren't you?..." he joked, his eyes thinning slightly. When his hands stopped caressing me, I let my lips press together in dissatisfaction. "If not me, who will it be?..."

I grunted low, squeezing his sides and feeling his fingers soften in my scalp again, I lowered myself to his face, brushing our noses before sealing his cheek and jaw, ignoring how loud my heartbeat got each time I got closer to his mouth. When I finally found his lips, his hand grabbed my shoulder, pulling me down, making me lie on top of him, deepening the slow and sticky kiss.

I moved my hand up his chest until I reached his neck, squeezing weakly, then I felt his hot breath hit my face and his hand left my locks to go down and squeeze my hip, moving up to my waist.

"We are perfect for each other." He whispered, pulling half of my shirt out of my pants. "You noticed that, didn't you?" He dragged his fingertips down my ribs, scratching my skin lightly, making me shiver from the caress. I stated, dragging my lips over his, giving in to any gesture he made.

I bit his lip and pulled it weakly, hearing him suck in air between his clenched teeth.

"Do a little more, beautiful..." he asked in a soft sigh, squeezing my skin with his fingers.

"Do you want me to pull your lip into my kisses?" I murmured, giving him a peck.

"I want you to use those teeth on me, love, bite me anywhere, everywhere...please do it, yeah?" He cupped my face, digging his thumb into my cheek, mimicking the up and down of his nails on my back.

I closed my eyes, leaning against his body with his touches down my shirt, his soft fingers sliding down my spine until they stopped at the curve at the end of my spine.

"I'll do whatever you want..." I whispered without looking for his eyes, holding his jaw to turn his face to the opposite side, scratching his jaw with a light bite.

I saw him smiling, eyes already closed to receive the bites he had asked for, sighing heavily as I nibbled on the sensitive area below his ear.

"Treat me like the good girl you are, okay?..." he whispered serenely, still with his eyes closed with his fingers running up and down my spine. "From now on, darling, I will call you mine. So don't think twice before calling me yours."

I raised my lips to his ear, his hand went from my face to the back of my neck, diving into the roots of my hair.

"Are you asking me to be your girlfriend?..."

Hongjoong opened his eyes, pressing his fingers into my locks just a little, still affectionately, removing the fingers that were caressing my back to hold the side of my face, making me look at him closely.

We looked at each other for a while, taking our time.

"I'm just asking for someone that's already mine..."

[ ... ]

I found the girl who caused me so much trouble.

"If you don't take my project off the wall and stop saying it's yours, I'll go to the office and inform the principal about your actions!"

The look of contempt she gave me was disgusting, as if I was a little rat which was just getting in the way.

"Is the crybaby going to go to the office?" She mocked, imitating me with a high-pitched, honeyed voice. "Go fuck yourself, we're already using your project, why don't you let it go?"

"Because it's mine. I'm not going to give a fuck!"

The young lady turned around in surprise, at first she seemed in disbelief, then she seemed amused by my attitude.

"Ah...now are you brave?" She pouted impressedly, moving closer until she was right next to my ear. "Are you going to run and tell the principal? Because if you do, I won't have any problems leaving the entire school knowing that you fucked that punk in his car on a dark, dirty corner, you bitch."

I furrowed my eyebrows in shock, shame and humiliation coursing through my veins.

No one could find out about this, they would spend the rest of their lives calling me a whore. How would they respect me? What would my family think of me?

"Oh!" She exclaimed happily, letting out a laugh. "So it's true? Did you guys have sex?" She laughed loudly, I pushed her into any corner, terrified. She continued smiling, amused by my despair. "You know, I had just guessed, saw the parked car and just assumed it could be the two of you..." she walked away, surrounding me with predatory eyes. "Who would have thought... you, of all people..."

"Shut up!" I growled, pointing my finger in her feline face. "I swear if you-"

"That's your choice. The project or your reputation?" She shrugged, slowly retreating. "Yeah, I think we're sorted."

I watched her walk away with cold fingers, my heart beating like crazy.

I was feeling so dirty.

Because of that, I suppressed myself, made excuses, walked away, and Hongjoong wasn't happy about it.

"Why are you ignoring me? Running away from me?" He followed me down the hallway, holding my shirt for me to stop. He could have been angry, irritated, but he didn't show that side, just confusion. "You said you weren't ashamed of me and now you do this? You want to see me suffer, is that it?

I looked at him with a negative wave, tired, even though I wanted distance, I didn't want to see him sad because of me.

"Just let me go for now..." I turned around, being pulled by his hand close to the wall, his palms cupped my face, staring at me intensely.

"I know you love me, that you haven't given up on me. So tell me what they did to you."

I held his wrists, not wanting to worst things up.

"Forget it." I tried to leave, but he refused.

"No." He emphasized, making me look at him again.

I sighed, holding the back of his head to steal a quick kiss from him, smoothing my thumb across his cheekbone.

"I'll tell you later, okay?"

Hongjoong agreed, staying silent for a bit before taking another quick peck from me, letting me go after a pinch on my waist, making me smile and making him smile too.

It was after that that the following week Hongjoong came looking for me in the library with a small but cocky smile on his lips.

He looked a little different that day, his hair was down and he was wearing a navy blue sweatshirt, almost black. But his essence remained the same, as he had only his hair down because I had done so earlier when we met in the corridor.

He confessed that he didn't like it very much, that it made him shorter. I laughed at that and praised him a little more, that was enough for him to let it go.

I watched him sit down next to me, catching his furtive glance from the corner of my eye.

"How did the tests go?" I started the subject by going back to the notes in my notebook, even though I knew he had something to talk about.

"I did well, of course." He shrugged, closing his eyes and raising his eyebrows smugly. I wasn't surprised, but I grimaced all the same. "And you?" He folded his arms on the table, laying his head down with a soft smile.

I sighed, lowering my head dramatically, I heard him laugh, so I raised my head again, looking at him boredly.

"I failed."

"I'll help you study, don't worry." He reached out, squeezing my hand.

I looked at him suspiciously.

"You? Help me study? Seriously?"

Hongjoong let go of my hand, shaking his in surrender, returning to using the arm to support his head.

"I swear this time I'm going to take it seriously. I don't want you to fail, that would be shit."

"Yeah, it would." I sighed, going back to studying, ignoring the fact that the boy continued to watch me with a smile. He used to do that, but the tension upon me started to bother.

I turned my head slowly, catching his gaze, remaining like that.

"I need to show you something." He commented relaxedly, still waiting for a response from me.

"Show me then."

Hongjoong put his hand in his pocket, taking out his cellphone, unlocking it and looking for something, dragging it on the table to my things.

It was open into a chat, an image more precisely. An intimate and explicit photo of a girl I had no way of knowing who was.

I looked away, pushing the phone back.

"Why are you showing me this? I'm...very intrigued. Really." I avoided turning my face, going back to flipping through my notebook as if I could still study after that, leaving a tasteless expression on my face.

I heard his short laugh.

"Amazing! You reacted exactly the way I imagined you would." He ignored the phone, only blocking it again.

I became discredited.

"You were simply testing me?" I frowned.

Hongjoong raised his eyebrows, looking at me slightly.

"Why? Are you jealous?" He smiled roguishly. I looked at him in disbelief.

"I could if there was any more reasonable motive for that?"

Hongjoong waved his hand, paying little attention to it.

"It's just a nude of the bitch that's been bothering you, love." He lay back down on top of his arms, snuggling.

I was silent.

"You didn't think about-"

"Why not?" He interrupted me, opening his palms. "Give her the same poison back."

I looked away, denying it.

"It's wrong, I would never do the same."

"I didn't say it needed to be you."

I caught his eyes quickly, his smile widened at my reaction.

"Let me carry the burden. It really doesn't hurt." He came near me, sitting closer to touch our shoulders, whispering even though we were alone. "You didn't do anything alone, you did it with me. If you don't have the courage to bargain for her silence in the right way, then I don't see any problem with me doing it for you myself."

I heard him as I closed my fists, feeling his head lay against me.

"I don't care about my reputation, but I want to protect yours. Don't you worry anymore, okay?"

I lowered my head, not having the initiative to say anything.

And it was at that moment that he knew I was saying yes.

[ ... ]

The project was mine again, simply returned to me when they decided to cancel the progress to represent the class.

It was pretty quick.

I was happy, really happy that no more people were taking advantage of me, but I remained nervous.

It was still early, Hongjoong wasn't coming for personal reasons, helping his father with work or something like that.

I sat down and paid attention in class, everything was normal, everything was calm... Out of my sight.

Whispers and gossip everywhere.

The class was definitely hating me, they knew that I was the cause of the work being cancelled, that they would be left without good grade. That they would run out of extra notes.

It was a few hours later that I noticed the murmurs, that I heard part of them.

I looked for her throughout the school and took her to the bathroom, there was no way she could get away from me, and she didn't even try.

"You told them!"

"Told them what?..." she leaned against the edge of the sink, tilting her head. "That you had s-"

"You had no right to do that!"

"But that was our deal, honey!" She exclaimed, showing irritation for the first time. "You made your choice! You! Now the whole school knows, but it's your fault!"

"What would you think if the school also knew about your nu-"

"Do it!" She screamed, startling me for a moment. "Everyone will know that you did this because you hate me! You always have! And on top of that, you're a coward! You didn't have the courage to threaten me to my face! You told your boyfriend to do it."

When the palm of my hand was already against her face, my wrist was grabbed at the same moment, and wanting to return the gesture, she threatened to hit me in the face, but we ended up with both of us holding each other's wrists.

"Nobody will believe it. My face can't be seen in the picture." Even though she murmured arrogantly, I saw fear in her eyes and hated myself for feeling pity.

"You will regret this. For stealing from me, for using me, for pretending to be my friend and defaming me."

"The school now knows nothing but the truth..."

I pushed her away from me when the siren sounded, heading out into the hallway, unfortunately having to go back to class.

I have never felt so ashamed, so humiliated. Even the teachers looked at me with pity.

Why pity? What have I done of so bad to make them look at me with so much pity?

I returned home late in the afternoon after putting up with the teasing, finding nothing but very well-informed parents.

I got my ass beat up.

They prohibited me from leaving my room, from seeing Hongjoong, from using my phone or computer. But that wasn't the problem.

I cried. Of course.

I cried with hate.

I swore my whole life to be a good girl... for this.

I waited until after midnight, to them I was sleeping, I was bored, with nothing to do but lie down. It never crossed their minds that I would do something like that, that I would run away.

But there I was, walking with hard, fast steps, the early morning cold throwing my hair back and drying my lips. I was burning, burning with rage.

This was so wrong and I knew it.

I invaded his room, not expecting to see him sleeping at that hour, he had his phone to his chest, he must have been awake for a while but he ended up falling asleep, perhaps out of tiredness. That's why his window was still open.

Hongjoong's hair was tangled, strands falling over his forehead and others up, without earrings or rings, he was wearing a one-band large shirt and shorts, his sheet was wrapped around his legs.

I calmed down just a little.

Just a little.

I approached, standing next to him in silence, taking the phone from his fingers and placing it on the side desk. His eyelids moved a little, then he woke up lazily, taking time to understand the situation, looking at me dazedly.

"You scared me." He muttered in a choked voice, quickly wiping his eyes. "How did you manage to come here and why? What happened? I have a lot of questions. Why haven't you answered my messages?"

"You won't get any of the answers you want now." I whispered, watching him straighten himself.

"Why?" He supported himself on his arms. I climbed onto the bed, sitting on his lap. "Ok, I see..." I wrapped my arms around his neck, bringing my face closer to his. "My poor girl came to seek comfort..." he murmured bashfully, brushing our lips. "It's okay, I'll take care of you, my love..."

His hands went up my sides, welcoming me with affection, his soft smile hiding a natural perversity. I clutched his shirt in my hands, clenching my jaw.

"I don't want you to take good care of me."

Hongjoong tilted his head, not reacting until he let out a roguish smile.

"Are you upset?"

I pushed his chest so he could lay down again, adjusting myself on his hip.

"I'm more than upset." I took off my hoodie, throwing it on the corner of the bed, ignoring his surprise. "Only you can do this for me, Hongjoong... So help me, love me all night until dawn."

The boy smiled mischievously, sitting again to squeeze my naked torso in his hands.

"How can I say no to you, hm?" He stroked my neck, distributing wet kisses as he moved my hair out of the way, gathering it in his other hand, holding it weakly. "Tell me what else you want me to do to you, alright?" He scratched my skin with his teeth, sliding his tongue in afterward.

I breathed heavily, placing my hands on his shoulders before moving my hips against his, feeling his hand instantly tighten my hair and his breathing quickly stop.

"I want you to hold my hair tight like this." I gasped, tilting my head back. "Hold me tight, kiss me hard, I want you to moan loudly, Hongjoong."

I rubbed myself against his lap more times, enjoying the rotating rhythm that brought relaxation to my body.

"You're so beautiful." I pulled his body close, starting to pant and hear his satisfied grunts. "Don't...you understand how much I want from you yet?"

"I know very well... my angel." He whispered in my ear, squeezing my hips, pulling and thrusting faster, resting his chin on my shoulder.

The next thing I knew, I was hugging the boy, letting him rhythm my hips with more and more force, our moans coming out loose and uninhibited, his trapped hands sinking into my skin while mine grabbed his short, spiky hair.

"So good...So good...give me more." He moaned against my mouth, sucking my lips eagerly. I followed his sly murmurs, laying my head in the crook of his neck before ripping his hands away from me when I was already feeling euphoria dominate my body. "Don't do that..." He hugged me again, thrusting his hips up when I stopped moving on him.

"I'm going to give you a little more, baby, let me go..." I moved away, getting off his lap to take off my lower pieces, watching him do the same until he was only wearing the large shirt, welcoming me again with a kiss on the cheek. "Don't hold back at any point, that's not what I want you to do to me."

"I wouldn't dare go against your wishes in any way." He played with serene eyebrows, panting when I slowly fitted him in, closed my eyes, moving down until I found his hips again. I pressed his lips tightly against mine, unable not to move very quickly, moving up and down, dancing around him. "Ah, fuck..."

I hugged him tightly as his movements increased, taking my hands to his back, sliding my fingers under the hem of his blouse and inside. His hand found my hair, grabbing it tightly, I groaned from the pain, but I liked it enough. "I know you can do more, cutie. Show me." I raised my head, closing my eyes once again and doing what he asked me to do, he let out some weak moans, digging the nails of his other hand into my thigh. I sucked in air between my teeth, clawing his back in an impulse to return the gesture, hearing an "argh" escape from him and a less than happy expression, but consequently a drawn-out moan.

"Don't treat me badly..." He murmured with his lips wandering over my jugular, mouthing the area between the curve of my neck and shoulder, clenching his teeth and letting go of my skin when I let out a loud, tearful gasp, then licking the area. "Your nails gonna leave pretty marks on my back..." he warned quietly, helping me continue the ups and downs when I could no longer do it alone. "I'm returning the favor..."

I continued to feel his bite mark, letting my eyes wander to any corner of the room that wasn't his greedy eyes.

"As you should." I whispered against his face, holding it to take his lips to my lips, he giving in before I even tried to explore his mouth, letting himself fall back on the bed, hugging my torso enough to press my chest against his.

We went into ecstasy, interrupting the clumsy kiss with the last satisfied cries, panting heavily with each lazy thrust that followed until we both no longer needed it.

I came back from the state of euphoria against his neck, being laid down next to him cautiously, his arm around my torso still keeping me close to his body, but far enough away for us to be face to face.

"I'll take care of you. Never doubt that..." He gave me a light smile, resting his hand on the side of my face.

I nodded, holding the soft fabric of his clothe.

"Where is your father?..." I asked, noticing his lack of concern, as he didn't want to lock the bedroom door or hold back for a moment to keep quiet.

"He went drinking, didn't come back 'til now..." he shrugged, calmly. "Nothing new." He combed my hair back, wrapping his finger around the strap of the only piece I hadn't removed. "Why were you upset?"

I explained to him what had happened, letting him take off this last piece of underwear I had left, receiving comforting kisses on the collarbone area. I caressed his hair, taking my time taking off the large shirt that still hid his torso from me.

"I'm sorry, princess." He ran his fingers down my belly, looking at me with some pity in his gaze. I placed my hands on his jaw, making him pay attention.

"Don't feel sorry for me."

Hongjoong stated, resting his arm next to my head, staring at my face above me.

"How can I make up to you then?"

I looked at him for a few seconds and by the thin smile that appeared on his face I knew that he had seen my intentions.

"End that bitch's life, baby. For me, please?" I pulled his face, pecking the corner of his mouth, receiving a weak but evil laugh.

"As you wish, love..." he sealed my lips a little sleepily, holding my thigh next to his hip. "It will be an honour."