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#I might be playing the middle ground a bit too much
i-like-forcefem · 9 days
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You get an random email from someone you don’t know, the headline is open this now
Good Girl!
You are now under my control, whatever happens you will finish reading this email and fulfill its instructions to the best of your ability Your mind may have second thoughts, but you'll notice how your body will only listen to me from now on, try to run, scream or give in, it's all futile, because what you think or want doesn't matter anymore, your body only listens to me
Now, go and buy something appropriate to wear for when we meet, I want something cute, slutty, and easy to fuck you in, my bitches stay dressed during sex so you better get a cute skirt
Then buy yourself a collar that matches the rest of your outfit, good girls look fashionable and all of my girls need to be good
After buying the new outfit put it on instantly, I don’t care if people see you, my bitch is cute, and that means she always dresses like a cute bitch
Next go to a lingerie store and buy yourself a couple cute sets of girly underwear, and a set of sex toys, I want something to plug your ass, fill your mouth and if you’ve got a member I want something to lock it up (make sure to choose wisely for that last one, you’ll be wearing it for a long time)
Then go to your old home and start packing any needed daily necessities and important documents you have, this will be your last time there so don’t forget anything, I’d hate to punish you for forgetting something silly like a toothbrush
Though don’t worry about clothes, we’ll fill out a wardrobe in my tastes when you arrive
Then go to the address attached below, ring the bell, and prostrate yourself in front off the door like a good little girl
When the door opens say “I will be a good girl for my master, I will never look back at the life I had before this, and give my all to fulfilling your every wish like the bitch I am” and I’ll tell you what to from there
If you understood all of that then start already!
It’s a bad idea to keep your master waiting ;)
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hysteria-things · 7 months
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please write a story where either chris or matt is veryyyy dominant and can throw the reader around (might sound weird) but like a size difference 🙏
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CAMPSITE
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𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dom!matt x reader
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you feel sex deprived when you go camping with your boyfriend and his brothers for a few days, and you don’t think you can wait any longer.
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUT, swearing, heavy petting, semi-public (?), marking, p in v, degradation, mentions blood, ROUGH
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1,038
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: combined these two because they both fit the idea when i was brainstorming! hope you guys like it :)
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“is everybody in?” matt asks as he turns the keys into the golf kart ignition. the boys have a campsite on a campground, and you guys have been going camping every few weeks. it’s summertime, so it’s the perfect weather to do things.
the campground is nice. it’s big with other people’s trailers there, dogs and little kids run around from morning to curfew.
doing activities like this is nice to get away from life for a bit, especially social media. having to text people back can be so exhausting.
a seatbelt clicks behind you. “yup. all ready.” chris says.
the sun is setting, and you hear the weekend band playing in the distance. matt’s driving of course, and you’re in the passenger seat. nick and chris are in the back facing outward.
the music starts to get closer as matt drives down the small hill that leads to the main part of the grounds. there’s a dog park, a horseshoe game setup, a lounge, and a playground/basketball court. the stage is just outside of the lounge and the bathrooms are on the other side.
there’s a fire going in the middle of where the picnic tables are. people from around the campgrounds are either sitting or standing by their golf karts, some dogs barking as well.
kids play on the playground and matt finds a spot to park. rainbow beams flood the air from the stage, the band singing whatever country song they’re playing.
fairy lights hang on the trees above. the four of you get up from the kart, heading closer to the stage. not too close, but close enough to get a better view.
the music is loud, people’s voices echoing through your head. cigarette smoke enters your nostrils and the sounds of beer cans opening flood your ears.
you would think this type of scene isn’t for the triplets and you’re not wrong, but something about being in the wilderness is so calming.
matt wraps his arms around your shoulders, pulling you close and swaying to the music. the only downside of this trip is that you can’t have sex.
not to sound like a fiend, but you get sexually frustrated when you go a few days without it. you bite your lip as you start getting dirty thoughts in your mind, squirming in your boyfriend’s grasp.
“you okay?” he asks, a little loud so you can hear him over the music.
“mhm,” you say with a nod.
you put your hands behind your back, reaching towards matt’s crotch. it’s dark enough that people can’t see what you’re doing, but they’re all distracted anyway. however, you’re so close to his body that people definitely can’t see what you’re doing.
you start to palm his dick through his jeans, and he takes an arm off your shoulder and holds your hand still. “stop.”
obviously, you don’t listen, and you move your hand again. he’s starting to grow at your touch, but grips your hand tighter. “stop.”
you look at him innocently over your shoulder, your hand movements becoming faster on his erection. he groans, thrusting his hips slightly into your palm.
“we’ll be right back,” he says out of nowhere, lifting you over his shoulder since he’s so much bigger than you. he walks away before the other two can say anything, and he doesn’t bother taking the golf kart.
nick and chris stare at each other. “they’re going to fuck.” chris says, taking a sip out of the pepsi that he brought with him.
“oh, yeah.” nick agrees.
the walk back to the trailer feels short as you giggle back. matt’s boner hurts like a bitch as he opens the door and goes into the bedroom, throwing you onto the bed. “think you’re funny, huh?” he says lowly, immediately taking his shirt and jeans off.
you don’t say anything. except you look at him with doe eyes. then, he starts taking off your clothes. you’ve been waiting for this.
his dick springs out when he takes his boxers down, and it does look like it hurts.
he starts to crawl on top of you but then flips over causing you to gasp. you’re now straddling his lap.
you don’t have a chance to react when he grabs your hips and slams you down onto his cock. you whine as you feel him stretch you out completely. you start to bounce slowly, putting your head into his neck to leave kisses.
matt hisses when you bite down, sucking and marking his neck. you repeat that action multiple times, still bouncing painfully slowly.
he sighs annoyingly, flipping you over once again and pulling you closer by the legs before slamming into you immediately at an ungodly pace.
“matt!” you scream, your nails digging into his shoulders. “f-fuck!”
“you think you can tease me and get away with it? think again, sweetheart.”
you whimper, your back arching with each thrust. you repeat his name along with moans and cries of pleasure.
“or is this what you wanted?” he asks, grunting at the sudden pain in his back as you drag your nails when he hits your g-spot suddenly. “i should’ve taken you right then and there so people know what a fucking slut you are.”
“i-i’m—” your cut off when your legs start to shake, your eyes rolling back when the knot in your stomach is close to snapping.
the scratches you’re leaving on matt’s back start to bleed the deeper your nails dig, and he moans at the feeling. “you’re going to make me cum if you keep doing that shit.” he says through gritted teeth, getting close to his orgasm because he knows he’s making you feel this good.
a shaky moan leaves your mouth when you start to cum around his dick. he grunts as he thrusts into you two or three more times before pulling out and cumming on your stomach.
you pant and quiver, a smug smile on your lips. matt turns his back to retrieve your guys’ clothes, and your eyes widen. his back is red, scratches of different shades running down his bare skin. “your back… is fucked up.” you say between pants.
he smirks. “wouldn’t be the first time.”
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𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!
@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @mayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @txssvx @sttzee @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @matthewsspecial @idkhowtosleep @sturniolho @suga-daddy-69 @tworosesblackthorn @luckistar-posts
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vilentia · 9 months
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Physical Touch
George Weasley x reader
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Summary: George Weasley discovers his love language of physical touch in his relationship, leading to a deeper understanding and connection.
Just wrote something short to get the idea out of my system.
****
In their sixth year at Hogwarts, George Weasley and you had stumbled into a relationship as unexpectedly as one might stumble upon a hidden room in the castle. It was fresh, exhilarating, and filled with the kind of magic that didn't require a wand.
In the bustling corridors and beneath the ancient trees of the Hogwarts grounds, George had a way of speaking without words. His fingers would absentmindedly play with a strand of your hair during study sessions, his hand would find yours under the table in the Great Hall, and during quiet moments in the common room, his thumb would draw invisible patterns on your skin. These small gestures were his language of affection, his way of saying you mattered in a world that was often too loud and chaotic.
One crisp autumn day, as you both lounged by the Black Lake, watching the giant squid's tentacles occasionally break the surface, Fred Weasley, George's inseparable twin, ambled over with a mischievous grin. "Merlin’s beard, George! Do you need a magical adhesive to keep your hands off her for a second?"
George's smile faltered, and a shadow of doubt crossed his face. You laughed it off, assuming it was just Fred being Fred, but something shifted in George after that.
He became hesitant, his touches fewer and more restrained. The corridors seemed colder, the classes longer, and the common room a bit less welcoming. You felt the change but couldn't understand it. Why had George, always so warm and playful, suddenly turned into a distant echo of himself?
One chilly evening, in a quiet corner of the library, surrounded by ancient tomes and the soft glow of candles, you decided to breach the silence. "George, what's wrong? You've been acting so differently."
He looked up from his book, his eyes meeting yours with a vulnerability you hadn't seen before. "I... Fred made a comment the other day. About me always touching you. I started thinking, maybe it's too much. Maybe I'm making you uncomfortable."
You reached out, your hand covering his. "George, do you know what love languages are?"
He shook his head, confusion written across his face.
"They're the ways we express and feel love. Yours, I think, is physical touch. It's not too much, George. It's just your way of showing you care. I love it. It makes me feel close to you."
A small, relieved smile broke through George's uncertainty. "Really? I never thought about it like that. I just... feel more 'me' when I'm close to you."
Grinning, you nudged his shoulder playfully. "Well, feel free to be 'you'. Hogwarts can be a big, lonely castle, but your touch makes it feel a lot more like home."
From that moment, George's hesitancy melted away. His touches returned, each one a silent word in a language only the two of you understood. And in the middle of a school full of magic and mysteries, you found comfort and warmth in the simplest magic of all - a touch, a look, a connection that needed no spells to be real.
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1uvtae · 6 months
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i think i just saw my ex. | jeon jungkook
★ word count: 10k- yay!
★ genre: classic exes to lovers,,,with slightly suggestive smut,,,and fluff...and the typical mutual pinning that may be a tad (a lot) angst... also TENSION. SOO MUCH TENSION!!!!! and both y/n and jungkook are trying to play hard to get which might be a bit crack up!!!
★ summary/snippet: jeon jungkook is your ex from many years ago, and you think you might've just seen him in a bar…and a part of you is definitely craving him.
★ kae's little chat: playing the typical kae exes to lovers theme, cos all i write about is exes to lovers micro-fics!! (this might be the only thing i'm good at writing) I recently just bought this glazed donut lanolips lip balm and it is what I religiously used while writing this fic for a whole ass week and I hope this fic tastes and smells like glazed donuts to you guys too ;) also a quick tag for @cassies-cookies!!! the fic has arrived!!!
enjoy a little teaser before you start!! can i consider this as an appetizer??
do you want to give me some feedback? request something fun? chit chat with me?!
this is my masterlist and drabble list for more of my works!
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶
you are 99.9% sure you just saw your ex.
you can't add that 0.1% on because 1) it is so darn dark in this bar, the annoying flashing lights poking through your eyes and into your soul, and 2), you are drunkenly intoxicated right now.
but gosh, that side profile looks almost identical to him. you've tried to follow him with your gaze, but all you got to closely view was the back of his head. (the very familiar back of his head, may you add.)
this isn’t something you expected on a nice friday evening. 
when you randomly woke up in the middle of the night, you realised you typed quite some texts and paragraphs to that familiar number of his, but it seemed like you were way too drunk to hit “send”. thank god.
blank-eyed, staring at the unsent texts, you felt a stinging pain in your chest. 
you’re not the type to go back to any of your exes, and all your break-ups have been straightforward and savage. plus, you dumped him first!!!
you sit up on your bed, finger tracing over the floral details of your quilt cover. maybe it was because your partners after him have all been so lame, yes definitely that. additionally, you’ve been very single and lonely for the past few months, that’s exactly why you are missing him.
he wasn’t the perfect boyfriend, you remember how childish he was, and was quite protective over you- which was one of the reasons you two didn’t end well. 
but on the other hand…
he was a really good sex partner. you two mended flawlessly together. not to boost his ego or something, but that boy definitely can fuck.
you sighed loudly, pulling the covers over your head. the night is still so long, but you do not have any of the calmness to fall back into sleep.
oh, the long, dark night.
after a whole day of debating and contemplating, you ended up hanging out with a few of your friends back at that specific bar. tonight, you needed someone to get your mind off your ex that you saw yesterday.
when excusing yourself to the bathrooms, you brushed past someone's shoulder in the hallways while scrolling through your instagram feed; he had a broad and tall frame, and his vividly tattooed hand holding a glass cup, and you felt the urge to jerk your head back to see his face. 
thinking “this is someone to take my mind off him!!”, you turn your head and your wild imagination completely halts. you feel your eyes widen and your pupils might as well fall onto the ground - it’s your ex. 
thank god you just got your hair done a few days back and you were head down, focusing on your phone the whole time, so he didn’t even glance at you. your heart completely dropped and skipped a beat, and you rushed into the bathroom to freshen up. 
after you walked out of the restroom, you carefully scanned every table for his silhouette, after locating the target, you walked a good lap around his booth to eye him out. fairly, he wasn’t hard to look for, judging by his clean undercut under those dark brown locks, and his perfect complexions, everyone seemed to notice him the way you did. you spot two girls walking up to him, offering him drinks in exchange for his number. 
you were now more than certain that this was your ex… and you’re also certain that you’ll never get over how attractive he is. 
once you’ve fallen for jeon jungkook, you’ll never fall out.
on the way home you remembered how hard you worked to get him to date you, it was almost rejection after rejection. and then you dumped him?! gosh, now it will be even more difficult to get his attention.
you feel like giving up instantly at that thought, but you cannot help yourself texting your mutual friend yerin: “did jungkook come back?” 
your friend did not respond, which leads to whatever you’re doing right now - sitting on your couch, stalking through social media accounts. it was not under his old username, which made it difficult to find. but you remembered his dog’s name. 
after typing bam’s name into the search bar, it only took a few scrolls to find a decent amount of photos and videos of the brown doberman. after clicking into his account, you sigh. he never posts himself, just some more dog posts and a few random scenery shots. 
continuing to watch every single video of bam, you see that the newest video of the cute dog was taken in another location that didn’t look like the place from the video from before. clicking on the comments, one from his friend reads “you moved?” he replied: “yeah”
you moved, or did you come back?
just realizing what you’ve been doing stupidly for the last 20 minutes, you lock your screen and toss your phone onto the coffee table. your friend responded right after the phone dropped onto the surface. 
“yeah, he quit his job last month, he probably came back” 
did he quit his job?
although he moved to a different city after the breakup, he still worked for the same company you worked for - that could’ve been a reason to reconnect. but now that he has quit that job, it makes it impossible for you to even have an excuse to hit him up.
yerin double-texted, “what’s up abt jungkook?”
you: i think i saw him recently
you: he’s still so fine 
yerin understood your tone extremely well, responding immediately: do you want me to plan a group dinner or something this week
you: yes please, i’m free every night this week
yerin: y/n, i meant ONLY group dinner…nothing else.
you: of course just dinner…what were you thinking?
yerin: i know you way too well
yerin: you obviously don’t only want dinner
you: hm
yerin was very speedy with her planning skills, the dinner was booked to be this friday night, it wasn’t weird at all since you and jungkook did have the same social circle for years, and considering he just came back, it was just more of a couple of friends and coworkers gathering together to celebrate. but yerin did not hint to him that you were also going to attend this dinner at all.
you stood in front of the mirror, your outfit was carefully picked out, and you spent almost 2 hours doing your makeup- in these years, your style has changed drastically, but you still wore the same fragrance he gifted you.
to create your ‘grand entrance’, you decided to show up late by 20 minutes, just so you can look casual and not too prepared to see jungkook. when you were on the road, you received a speedy text from yerin: be mentally prepared for what’s coming.
huh? be prepared for what?
when you were led to the table of the reservation, you realized what she meant.
you recognised every single face, except one. there was an unfamiliar girl seated right next to jungkook. jungkook wore a casual black hoodie, his hair slightly fluffing out. looking almost too soft to touch. you tried very hard not to lay your eyes on him for too long - since you already got a very personal look from the girl that was seated next to him. 
yerin mutters under her breath when you seat yourself next to her, which is right across him. “he brought that random girl over.” 
you keep that in mind, starting to greet your friends, then shooting a look back at yerin,  then whispering “if you told me this was gonna happen i would’ve turned around on the spot and sprinted back home!!!”
(yerin did tell you after the meal that the second you walked into the room, there were almost no expressions on his face. you don’t know if he was already expecting you, or if he just did not care about you whatsoever.)
you hope it’s not the second option.
the dinner was french cuisine, everyone had already ordered some sort of grilled steak while you decided to order sole fish fillets. sipping your chardonnay, you oversee the girl nudge jungkook’s arm, softly asking, gesturing at your transparent drink: “kook, what did that girl order?” he puts his glass down, responding with a gentle tone: “white wine. you pair white wine with fish. wine with red meats.” “so that's why you ordered red wine for me?” she nods before asking again.
“mhm.” he nods in response, taking a sip of water, with his very charming and endearing smile. 
you almost knock over your wine glass when slamming it back down on the table with aggression, suddenly this chardonnay tastes like fucking ass. 
you listen quietly to everyone talking about careers and how they’ve been doing recently, jungkook occasionally opens his mouth to input or say something. you realize how mature he has grown over these years, he speaks like a logical, grown man, and is completely not the person you were with a while back. you remember the old gatherings when you and he were dating - he barely says a word during the whole meal. not going to lie, this well-spoken jungkook is super attractive.
the main course came very fast after the drinks. you gasp at the fancy plating. the girl in front of you takes her knife and fork, struggling to slice the red meat. she slowly glances over to jungkook, and he notices her stare, speedily finishing up cutting up his plate, and offering her his already perfectly sliced steak, taking her uncut serving for himself.
after that, you put down the knife and fork, containing yourself to not roll your eyes.
that was an eyeful. might as well just not eat this shitty meal.
after that awful meal, they all planned to go for a second round, but jungkook said that he couldn’t go because he had to drive the girl home. after hearing that, you lost every interest you had in going for shots, which caused you to head straight home on a friday evening at 9 pm. how eventful.
taking a thoughtful and steamy shower, you decided to put a face mask on. a notification from no other than yerin broke the night’s silence.
yerin: jungkook’s here
you bounced up from your bed, replying within a millisecond. 
y/n: huh? why is he there?
yerin: he’s sitting on the table next to ours
yerin: u coming?
you close your eyes, every single imagination you had got crushed today when you saw the girl that he brought. it was almost hurtful now that you think about it.
yerin continued to add: he didn't bring the girl, if that’s what you’re wondering
hm…you hesitated for a while, but gave up. you can’t be interested in someone with a girlfriend-
yerin: and!! tae was being nosy so he asked him
yerin: turns out that the girl was just a blind date his mum arranged
yerin: not his gf
yerin: u still have a chance yk!!
you yanked the face mask off, rushing to redo your makeup again. you didn’t even bother to drive there, calling an uber instead. before entering the bar, you ensured yerin grabbed jungkook to sit at the same table. 
just when everything was planned beautifully and you were ready to make your grand entrance pt2, you bumped into a client who was by the bar table. how can you reject a business client? quick answer: you can’t. it’s a business client.
having to sit with a stranger by the bar table, but unable to walk to that table with your friends (and your ex)  might be the biggest struggle you’ve ever gotten yourself into. by the time you and the client had finished chatting and drinking, jungkook had left not only the table but the entire nightclub.
oh my gosh, you are going to lose your mind! a whole full stomach of alcohol and yet you still haven’t gotten to use your flirting tactics on your ex that you’ve been missing. you did not feel like staying at all, dragging yerin to get out of this hellhole. 
but who knew you’d see him again in the parking lot?
every cloud has a silver lining.
and there jungkook stood, leaning against his flashy black mercedes, phone to his ear. the second you saw him, you knew what to do. you were going to fake being drunk. you link arms with yerin, stumbling your steps and attempting to slur your words. yerin has to straighten you up manually when she goes over to jungkook. “hey jungkook! i thought you already left.” jungkook puts the phone back into his pocket. “i was just about to.”
yerin wasn’t hesitant at all, almost shoving you at him, thinking he’d help grab onto you, but he did not move a single muscle. her last resort was to lean you against the car. “perfect! can you drive y/n home? the girls are still waiting for me so…”
he opened his mouth to speak, you figured he was going to reject yerin. before a single sound came out of his mouth, yerin quickly interrupted him, “amazing! thanks so much, dude!! okayimjustgonnago-!” from your peripheral vision, you could see her almost sprint from the parking lot back into the front door of the club.
all that was left was you, who was faking drunk, and jungkook, with his brows, knitted, looking down at you.
judging from how rapidly yerin ran away from you, jungkook knows he can’t do anything else other than drive you home. he sighed and held open the passenger’s door for you. he raised his chin, gesturing you to hop in.“get in yourself.” he heard you chuckle at his words, turning to him and giving him a judging glance, then getting into the seat.
jungkook was extremely confused, and only realized the reason when he got into the driver's seat.
you seemed to not let that joke go, “i’m in, what now?” jungkook keeps a straight face while starting the engine. “seatbelt.”
he drove out of the parking lot, and he immediately hit a left turn, driving towards the direction of your house. after a few moments, he turned his head towards her at a red light. “where do you live?” your eyes were shut, leaning back on the seat, not wanting to respond to him.
jungkook does not want you to know that he still remembers your address off by heart like an idiot, so he turns into a random street on his right and keeps on driving. after feeling the car stopping, you open your eyes, peeking out the window. 
the hotel?? he drove you to a hotel?? you kept your eyes shut, as a silent protest to not get out of the car. you knew jungkook too well, he probably wanted to just leave your ass in the hotel, and you won’t get to ever see him again if you went with that.
jungkook nudges you with a finger hesitantly. you didn’t even budge. after a deep sigh from the man in the driver's seat, you hear the engine start again. 
he always drove at a perfect steady pace. you swear you almost dozed off when you felt the car stop in the underground parking garage. 
jungkook gently held onto you up the elevator, you heard the sound of a door unlocking, and your ears perked up when the sound of the door opening was followed by a loud bark from bam.
he brought you back to his place. that perfectly goes with your plan!!
you behaved the entire way home just for this moment. all that acting led up to this moment. he locked the front door, then squatted in front of you to help you take off your black heels. you were going to be using the moment wisely- when jungkook carried you over to the couch to put you down, you scratched his lower torso aggressively with your right hand. 
it was a strong scratch, causing the person carrying you to let a harsh hiss under his breath. he looked down at your sharply shaped nails, then at the girl in his hands right now, your eyes were shut, lashes slightly fluttering.
he always liked working out and had an almost daily streak of hitting up the gym, resulting in his body being super in shape. he had the perfect model figure- abs, pecs, shoulders, you name it. he has it. you look back on how great he was at using his strength advantage in bed, gosh, he was perfect.
even being able to leave a little scratch on his skin could do something to you right now.
jungkook goes straight into the kitchen to pour you a cup of water. the first thing he did though, was lift up his hoodie and inspect the scratch. and under the hoodie, lay two vivid red scratch marks on his lower abdomen. the bright marks went from his veins into his spank bank, the vivid images of you under his control, he reminisces how you always loved scratching his back, his neck, and his shoulders when he hit your soft spots. jungkook’s skin was always very sensitive, making it effortless to leave marks and bruises for days. he recalls his friends making fun of the scratch marks you left on his back ever so often during the few summers when you and he were dating.
by the time he recollected himself and brought you the glass of water, you were already fast asleep on his leather couch. he watches you for a while and realizes you still look the same after this many years. more mature, but still the appearance he could never forget, even in his dreams. his eyes fall on your delicate ears before he puts a stop to his mind.
he clears his throat. “go sleep in the bedroom.”
your eyelashes flutter as you turn to face the other side of the couch, mumbling something inaudible to yourself before getting back into your dreamland.
jungkook: “y/n?”
his ears catching a delicate airy whine leave your mouth.
jungkook isn’t too fond of whatever game you are playing, but he knows what you want to do to him. he’s matured and grown now, not the loverboy that was wrapped around your pinky finger anymore. he can read expressions off your face very accurately. considering the fact that it has been years since the breakup, and you had never broken the non-contact thing.
and suddenly after he got back into town, a reuniting dinner was planned, you showed up to the clubs, and whatever yerin was trying to do, and now- you are in his house, on his couch. he knows exactly what you’re trying to do.
this is exactly the little tricks you used to play, and he fell head-first into it last time.
he promised himself that he would never fall into the same hole twice!
but of course, he won’t let you sleep on his couch for the whole night. this two-seater leather couch is extremely small for anyone to find comfort in. your figure is curled up in the soft seats, and he notices your legs almost dangling out from the couch. 
he bends down to swoop you up, and by instinct, your arms find his neck. he slowly makes his way towards the bedroom, not wanting to wake up the girl in his arms.
considering this was a brand-new apartment, jungkook doesn’t have a bed yet- it’s just a mattress in the middle of the floor. he lowers his body carefully and places you in the centre of the bed, thinking your arms would instantly unwrap themselves from your neck, he tries to stand back up. but your grip on him was way too tight, jungkook almost lost his balance, but his reaction was fast enough for him to use his arm strength to hold on both sides of the bed, keeping a small dangerous distance from falling on top of you. his warm breath lands on your exposed neck, and you feel the warmth melting on your collarbones. 
you had to keep everything within yourself to not pull him closer, hoping he would find his balance to move away from you, instead, it’s almost as if he bowed his head lower, leaving more burning breath marks on your collarbones. the itchy feeling almost numbing. you couldn’t help but slightly peel your eyes open discreetly- through your lashes, you realise he was already on his feet again, simply pulling the covers up for you. 
the soft quilt falls on top of your lower torso, and his warm hand ‘accidentally’ brushes against your thigh before he completely gets up. he watches your reaction for a short while, but nothing from your side. he knew if it this was two years ago, you would’ve absolutely gone for it right now. he remembers even if his hand slightly rested on your thigh while driving, you would immediately get him to pull up on the side of the road for a heated makeout session. but it looks like, y/n is not the y/n he remembered.
jungkook turned off the big light, leaving a small night lamp on by the bedside table before patting bam to follow him back to the living room, planning to deal with the couch for the night. 
honestly speaking, if he stayed for even one more single second, you wouldn’t be sure what you’re capable of doing to him.
painful, very painful.
it was almost 4 am when you opened your eyes, trying to adjust to the dim lighting of the room. your eyes land on the agape bedroom door. from where you’re resting, you can clearly see most of the living room. there he lay, on the couch. 
jungkook normally sleeps just in his boxers, but considering the fact that you’re in the residence, he had to grab a pair of sweats to cover up. you observe the man on the couch, he is lying on his back, and you end up studying his figure. you could tell he was wearing nothing under those grey sweats- gosh the grey sweats and his shirtless body?! 
you shut your eyes and sigh. contain yourself y/n. 
if you weren’t already, you’re surely hungry for jeon jungkook now.
but you must control yourself now- jungkook knows what game you’re playing, and so do you. he’s such a slippery fish to catch- you can’t just pull the rod as soon as you hook him? 
and, it looks like he wasn’t going to give in tonight that easily too.
this can be a fun game to play.
you watch him for a little longer, he turns his body to sleep on his right side, now his body fully facing you. well- this is awful. it took no time for you to fall asleep for the millionth time, this time- it was a heavy sleep. the scent of his bed surrounding you.
you decide to stay in his bed for a little longer because you know you have to leave the second you wake up. 
jungkook also stayed home today, heading into the bathroom to clean up, then making breakfast, following up with feeding bam, and lastly back to the couch, attending a business call meeting. 
if you didn’t have to use the bathroom so urgently, you could stay in his bed until noon. you crawled out of bed to stretch, then mentally prepared yourself to walk out of his room. well, you can’t fake drunk anymore, can you?
after coming out of the washroom, you slowly walk to jungkook, trying not to interrupt him. “...do you know where my phone went…?” 
his gaze did not leave the laptop screen, his chin raised slightly, directing you to the device on the coffee table- where your phone lay. you hesitantly collect your phone, wanting to thank him about yesterday, but the sight of him so focused stops you. you didn’t have the heart to interrupt him, making way to the entrance. 
you put your heels on while watching bam play with his ball on the side. the doberman notices you, walking over to you while cocking his head which reminds you of how jungkook would always do. you reach a hand out to pat his head but bam back up immediately out of caution. 
feeling a little butthurt, you ask: “don’t remember me?”
not only forgetting about you, but bam also leaves to sit next to the man on the couch. jungkook gives bam an endearing rub, then looks up at you, standing by the door. 
wow, bam. he always preferred jungkook over you, even when you and him were together.
you glance at the black-brown dog….but now you have a reason to contact him again.
although finding his social media account was a hassle, his phone number never changed. the same night after leaving his house, you found the number that you almost accidentally texted.
y/n: can i pick bam up from yours
he replied almost instantly: and you are?
you let out a light laugh in unbelief before texting back: y/n
then it took a good 30 minutes to get a text back. “sure thing, but only if he wants to go home with you.”
you roll your eyes at the obvious fact that: of course bam doesn’t want to go home with you?! considering the cold shoulder he gave you this morning. 
but it’s okay since the cute dog was never the target to go for in the first place.
the day after the text, you went straight to his apartment after work, not bothering to change out of your work outfit- because you knew he was very into this specific set. it was a simple creamy white formal skirt set with black opaque tights.( and he loved this set. so much to the point by the time you normally got back home, he would press you onto the couch immediately. your skirt would usually be wrinkly by the time you two were done.)
jungkook answered the door, his eyes instantaneously landing on the girl in front of him, his eyes slightly widened for a split second. he has to admit, that you recognize his preferences a little too well. 
it's not because he likes the pantyhose with skirt look, but more because it is on you. especially because he would watch you get ready for work all seriously, and you would get home and find his shoulders immediately, draping on top of him all tired and worn out from socializing. and he was a whore for it. 
he’s literally hooked for you.
he opened the door wide open for you, he didn’t have any spare slippers in the house, so before you could take your slip heels off, he stopped you. “no need.” 
after shutting the door, he opened his mouth: “you didn’t bring anything?”
you’re here to pick up bam, and yet you came empty-handed, causing bam to only take one glance at you before jumping on the couch, disinterested. 
jungkook brought bam’s toys and treats over to you, yet bam didn’t even budge, to the point where he had to physically carry him over to you. it seemed like bam wasn't having any of this, not even giving you any sort of attention. jungkook had to give him a big encouraging talk before handing the medium-sized dog over to you. 
you needed a lot of strength to hold the doberman in your arms while jungkook went to get a dog leash. the second bam saw the leash in jungkook’s hands,he started to struggle out of your grasp, struggling to get out of your embrace. 
you weren’t prepared for the dog to be so strong, before you could let go of him, he had already left a faint bite mark on your arm, you winced under your breath while watching bam hop over to jungkook’s feet. jungkook hurried to drop the leash, coming up to you. “are you all good?”
“just a bite.” you brought your arm to his eye level, it wasn’t bleeding or anything, just a clear bite. “i’ve got some antibiotic ointment. you want some?”
you nodded your head. “sure.”
“...do you want to those off then?”
“hm?” you followed his eyes, looking down at your tights, a hole had been scratched open too, and you didn’t realize that maybe bam had also scratched you on the leg while trying to get out of your grasp. “yeah- yeah. i’ll do that.” you answered after excusing yourself to the bathroom. taking off the nylons, you threw them into the laundry basket before checking the scratch.
it was nothing but a pink line, you hurried out of the room, scared that by the time you headed out, it would already have faded. 
jungkook was already seated on the familiar couch by the time you finished taking your tights off. you went over and seated down extremely close to him. pressing your thigh against his knee to show him the faint mark. he kept a very straight face while taking out the otc ointment from the first aid kit. he treated the few marks, you don't know if it was intentional or not, but he applied way too much on the injuries, leaving a big patch of your skin covered in ointment. 
you look at him, who is now putting the cream back into the box. he clears the silence, “it doesn’t seem like he wants to go with you.”
you let out a sigh, looking at the dog resting by jungkook’s side. “it’s a shame that he completely forgot about me.”
“it’s been too long since he last saw you, that’s why.” he gives loving pats to bam, and you find an endearing smile creeping on your face at the scene. you muttered under your breath, “i missed him, i definitely wanted to live with him.” jungkook turned his head from the dog to you, adding “i take great care of him, and he likes me more.” 
you went silent. that’s an unarguable fact. the silence went on for another minute when he spoke again. “gotta rebuild the trust again.” 
your ears perk up at his comment…does this mean you can come to visit more often…to build the relationship again?
but you know it’s petty unlike for bam to like you again, lowering your head slightly, you mention, “i don’t think so,” you look up into his glassy, pure eyes, “i don’t want to force it. he looks way more comfortable with you anyway.” you’re not sure if jungkook wanted to hear that, but his brows slightly knot as he slowly opens his mouth to speak. “you’re giving up? even just being friends?” 
your eyes immediately widen- you’re not sure if he meant being friends with bam…or him. he subconsciously avoids eye contact with you, looking back down at bam. “since i- no, bam, can consider you as a co-owner.”
you like the sound of that.
this is something you could get used to.
jungkook didn’t seem like he minded you staying, so you obviously did not have any intentions of leaving just yet. you’re playing with bam (surprisingly you and bam have gotten quite along within an hour) when his takeout arrives. he hesitantly asked you if you wanted to have dinner together, which you agreed happily to. he walked into the kitchen to cook something extra for the two of you.
you weren’t too hungry, but you had to admit you desperately missed his cooking. it was already 9 pm when you and him had finished dinner. the entire time it was filled with small talk and comfortable silence. you left right after dinner, saying farewell to bam, and received a slight nod from jungkook. 
after getting home, your phone buzzed with a notification from jungkook’s number. it was an image of your tights in his laundry basket. you locked the phone without replying and hopped into the shower. 
after doing your skincare, you casually replied: “chuck it in the trash”
jungkook sent a photo of the tights in the rubbish bin with no other caption.
you decided to tease him a little: or you can keep it if you want
jungkook: ……i’m not that gross
as if he has never touched your tights. you don't even remember how many pairs of your stockings he had ripped during the time when you two were together.
as if he could read your mind, he sent a full 2-minute video of him taking the rubbish bag outside, followed by him throwing the plastic bag into the rubbish bin with no remorse. you watch the video on a loop for a few minutes, chuckling to yourself.
you weren’t sure what got into your mind the next day. after taking a relaxing bubble bath after work, something within you told you to find jungkook. although you were very rough from working, you still felt energized to prepare yourself. after putting on a tank top and a skirt- you made your way out. 
your hair still damp, you decided to pick some snacks on the way to his house. with confident and happy steps, you knocked on his door.
no answer. 
you stood outside the locked door, dialing his number: he picked up within two rings, voice relaxed and soft. “what’s up?”
“are you not at home?” 
he paused for a split second “you’re coming over?”
you hummed in response, “i brought fried chicken too.” 
“i’m out fishing.” jungkook said, then changed to a softer tone. “since…it didn’t look like you were coming over tonight.”
you suppressed your laughter, teasingly asked: “so you were waiting for me then?”
the other side of the phone remained silent, causing you to let out a giggle. “i’ll come find you, share your location.” 
he hung up, sharing his location with you right after- a freshwater lake close by. you made your way to his location with no hesitation.
bro he’s actually fishing on this fine evening.
it was extremely dark by the lakeside, but you could make out the figure of many middle-aged men sitting by the lake. turning your phone flashlight on, you spot your familiar ex-boyfriend in the middle of many men. 
he stood up to borrow a foldable stool from the man next to him. you tidied your skirt before sitting real close to him, your arm pressing against his. he looked at you on his side, “it’s too hot.” he muttered. you didn’t move away at all, instead, you decided to lean your head on his broad shoulder. he didn’t move away either.
you didn’t understand the joy of fishing but still watched him the whole time quietly. it felt peaceful to have him against you by the dark, calming lake. 
instead, jungkook felt slightly heated - how is it possible to focus on his rod when he had you leaning on him? it only took him half an hour to start packing his equipment, he couldn’t stand you next to him! you’re such a distraction! (not that he’s complaining…) 
after leaving the lake, you two stood under the road lights, he glanced at you under the warm streetlights. he noticed your glassy eyes of discomfort. he looked down at the few itchy bites on your arms. oh shit- he forgot to remind you about that. 
the lake was surrounded by grassy areas, he was smart by wearing a long sleeve and sweatpants, but he forgot to warn you about the mosquitoes before sending you his location. it was only around 30 minutes, but he could spot a few reddish marks on your arm, waist, and legs.
you didn’t realise this when you were by the lake, but now that you’re under the light, you can see the spots clear as day. jungkook takes your hand to lead you to his car, occasionally having to stop you from touching the mosquito bites. “don’t scratch them, we’ll be home soon.” he tucked a loose strand of your hair behind your ear, before stopping to caress your earlobe for a slight second.
“but it’s itchy.”
“patient.”
you bite down on your lip. patient. you should’ve been patient when you were taking that damn bath!!! this is what you get when you’re too eager for jeon jungkook.
jungkook took you back to his, immediately using a cold damp towel to caress over the little scattered bites. the mosquitos that were by the lakeside were deadly- the small pink dots had turned into a few red swollen bumps. 
you were in his embrace, feeling nothing but defeated. this is literally his second time treating your injuries within two days. a familiar feeling you feel before tearing up runs up your nose, triggering your eyes to start to build up with tears. oh, you feel so guilty right now. almost weeping in his lap, he comforts you on the back while the other hand applies ointment on the bumps, he pulls out a handheld fan to relieve the itching. 
“there’s more on the legs.” you tugged on his sleeve, speaking through sulking. jungkook moves to search for the rest of the bites, not expecting you to lift up your skirt to reveal the red mark on the inside of your left thigh. jungkook hesitates for a split second before applying some of the white ointment on his fingertip, his heart seems to be beating faster than usual - his head spinning, but he ignores it. 
when his hands move closer to the spot, you close your legs slightly out of discomfort, just enough to cover the mark with your panties. jungkook feels his breathing fasten, he uses his middle finger to push the fabric of the underwear out of the way, rubbing the treatment on the spot. he wasn’t too sure what he touched, but he was sure he saw a slight reaction from your body, causing your hand that was holding the skirt to slightly twitch. feeling a twinge of playfulness creep up, he holds the small fan to the spot, turning it on with the press of a button. 
you immediately close your legs out of sensitivity, giving him an alarming look. the second your legs squeezed against each other, jungkook swore he touched your core with his hand. he felt a numb shoot from his hand, through his veins, then right to his scalp. 
you noticed his reaction on his face, and downwards. half of you wanted to take the rare opportunity- but you listened to the other half that told you to slow this down. you decided to leave after that interaction, not giving the both of you what you two obviously want from each other. 
plus, he has the whole night to deal with that problem. and plenty of time to think about you.
talking about giving him time, you made the cruel decision to not contact him for the next few days. not to remind you, there was a load of work you had to do for this week for your job.
you knew jungkook would never break the ‘no contact’ type of thing either, but through some late-night stalking, you did find him updating his social media a little too frequently. either it was some workout progress pictures or his dinner with bam. weird.
the weekend came by fast, yerin texted you wondering if you wanted to go bowling with her, you hesitated, wanting to use tomorrow getting ready to see jungkook and bam. but she added that jungkook was going to be there- and you were immediately sold.
yerin’s boyfriend was decent friends with jungkook, they always hung out together, but right after you and jungkook ended things roughly, her boyfriend did not seem to like you very much. which is very reasonable since you did break up with him over text and whatever. which is something that has been keeping you awake at night lately.
arriving at the bowling alley, you see someone familiar with jungkook…the blind date girl. she had two bottles of sprite in her hands while sitting on the side benches. you can’t help but notice the pair of matching sneakers they had on.
you watch with widened eyes as jungkook goes over to her to converse, his eyes glistening with a smile that you haven’t seen in a while.
you do not like jeon jungkook very much right now.
yerin drags you to go say hi to her boyfriend and jungkook, you get a hesitant and sly “hey” from yerin’s boyfriend while jungkook on the side spares you a glance, just one single glance, to instantly turn back to the girl, the two chatting away. oh okay, so he’s going to do this now. 
out of annoyance, you decided to cheer and clap for every other guy that is up bowling. you immediately caught the attention of one boy, he walked up to you, asking for your number with redness rising from his ears. naturally, you couldn’t reject him right now, giving your number in a swift motion right in front of jungkook. 
still no acknowledgement from him.
finding a spot next to him on the benches, you intentionally sat closer to him. he gave you one warning look before scooting to the other side.
the girl on his right seemed to notice you, sparing you a cautious look while handing jungkook a pre-opened sprite bottle- he took it easily, raising the bottle to his mouth to take a sip out of it. 
you slightly raised your arm, bumping the bottle with some strength just before his lips touched the bottle's mouth…causing a few drops to splatter out and onto the collar of his t-shirt, and his face.
as this was not expected at all, the other girl lets out a sharp gasp before pulling a pack of tissues out of her purse, and he takes it urgently to wipe the liquid off his face. you feel him turning to look at you, head cocked, his tongue poking around his mouth. you decided to play dumb, “shit, i’m so sorry kook, i didn't mean to do that.”
the girl on the other side kept calling jungkook by kook the whole time, hearing the nickname leave your mouth, he knows exactly what you’re doing. you’re doing this again.
jungkook didn’t make a single sound, while yerin’s boyfriend couldn’t help but let out a chuckle out his mouth at your actions.
when he got the chance to bowl, he took it very seriously, pins knocked after pins. yerin nudges you to capture your attention: “it’s definitely because he wants to show off to someone he’s interested in.” 
you: “can’t be that blind-dating girl, can it?”
yerin: “well it’s not you…not after all that…”
you commented sourly: “she’s not his type.”
yerin gives you a knowing smile. “y/n oh y/n.”
“i know yerin, i’m being very stupid. but i can’t help it.”
you fully understand what “the grass is always greener on the other side” means now. you want what you can’t have.
the loud sound of many pins being knocked down, this is his second strike in a row- a turkey, if you will. your eyes darted towards him after the ‘STRIKE’ was displayed on the screen, but he was looking at the girl sitting on the bench, currently giving him two thumbs-ups.
he responded with a boyish smile.
and that was your cue to leave. you told yerin you felt like leaving early, and she grabbed your arm before you could go. “we’re nearly done then we’re getting dinner, you really wanna leave?” “yeah, i’m going…” you replied, uninterested anymore.
driving home, your phone buzzed many times when you hit a red light. yerin notified you that once you left, it seemed like jungkook also lost his energy to continue playing, hitting only a few pins before leaving with the girl without staying afterwards. 
an idea popped into your head, causing you to spin the wheel and turn back- to his house.
this will be the final time you’ll ever willingly go to his house if this does not work out the way you wanted.
when you arrive at the familiar door, you know he probably hasn’t gotten home just yet. you decided to wait outside. the thought that what if he brought the girl home? races through your mind as you suddenly shoot up, contemplating whether you should just hop into the elevator and go home before you vividly see that image happen in front of your eyes.
you are now facing the closed elevator, a shaky finger hovering over the “↓” button. just before physically pressing it, the ‘ding’ from the elevator pulled you back to reality from your thoughts. you watch the door open at a snail's pace, revealing the figure of one specific person- just one, thank god.
jungkook has his phone in one hand, scrolling through emails when he notices that a person is standing outside of the elevator. and it was you. his girl.
eyes meet. he holds strong eye contact, and you could look right through those brown eyes. no words were needed at this moment. the distance between the two of you closes when he hurries to unlock the door, takes your purse and throws it onto the couch, pushing you against the back of the door. everything just simply felt right. his right hand immediately found itself slightly pinching the soft flesh of your earlobe- as if it was made to rest on top of your lobe.
you seriously missed being this close to him, feeling your knees weaken as he pressed his soft lips on you, he tasted like exactly what you’ve been missing for these years. it feels almost like what you feel when you’re in love. you pulled away when bam nudged your foot, but he was more forceful than ever, lifting your chin to meet your lips with his again. you only needed to focus on jungkook at this moment.
right when your hands were finding their way into his shirt, he pulled away, gazing at you. “i got to shower first.” he said, slightly out of breath. 
jungkook rushed home after dropping that girl off, planning to take a shower before driving to your place. he had nothing to lose at this point- he doesn’t care if you know that he still remembers your address; he doesn’t care if he’s the one outside your door this time. the way he should’ve been two years ago.
but he was taken by surprise when he saw you outside his front door. 
he couldn’t keep lying to himself that he doesn’t think about you, because you’re all he’s been missing about every single day. you, you, and only you.
you couldn’t let go of him at all, scared that he’d just slip away if you didn’t have your hands on him. “we can shower together.” 
…the ‘shower’ took almost a whole hour. the bathroom echoed with your whines. many times, jungkook had to wrap his hand around your mouth, softly reminding you through his own pleasurable groans “the walls are thin in the bathroom, darl.”
carrying you to his bed, you were surprised at how effortlessly the mattress allowed him to move all over you. at first, you did not realize, but he was being way too harsh with you.
he was rough when he wanted to be, but he was never this rough?!! jungkook had no hesitation in marking you, pinching your waist when you moved in his rhythm, every single push inside of you made you feel like he wanted to pin you straight into the bed. not to mention-  your entire body has been scattered with bites and signs of his touch. you’re definitely not complaining about how perfect he felt when he mended into you, and you had to admit, he was so fucking hot when he is rutting himself inside of you out of pure desire and frustration. 
jungkook did not want to hurt you in any way, and you both knew that.
but you did not need him knowing that this was the most passionate, satisfying sex you’ve ever had. so you made the bold decision to start putting your underwear on right after the sensual fuck. not giving him any time for aftercare. 
jungkook was lying comfortably on the bed when he noticed that you wanted to leave, his quick reaction caused him to sit up, large hands holding down your waist as he pressed you back down into the mattress. his bright eyes stared at you, “where are you heading to? hm?”
“back home,” you maintain deep eye contact, it’s hard not to kiss him when his soft, pretty lips are at a reachable distance in front of you. “i obviously can’t stay the night…”
jungkook’s grip on your waist tightened, you swear you saw the light in his eyes die out almost immediately. almost a fog covers his pupils and you figure maybe you were a little too extreme with that answer. 
a delicate emotion runs across his face and he almost looks hurt when he finally gathers his words, “so…you waited outside my house…just to sleep with me?”
in that moment, you felt like the biggest cunt in the world.
you couldn’t find the right answer, if you said yes, you are the biggest cunt in the world confirmed- if you said no, you don’t think that’s a correct answer either way.
after not collecting a response from you, jungkook lets go, plopping back onto the bed, it’s almost like he took that silence from you as a confirmation of his theory. he laughs to himself, “fuck, why do i keep falling for these games you play?”
he moves his eyes away from you, to a random object in the room. “if you could’ve told me you’re real intention to simply just sleep with me ages ago, we wouldn’t be like this at all, y/n.”
you close your eyes, remaining in your position on his bed. 
in the start, you were definitely in it just for a quick fuck. but it looks like you’re now in deep waters. jungkook is irresistible- and you might’ve gone way too far with this one.
“don’t say that.” you move to his side, “i seriously loved you back then.” 
“if you loved me, i don’t think you would’ve sent me off to a different city, y/n.”
“i told you it was an opportunity…i know you’d be better off if you got that job, even if we broke up, i wanted you to be successful, and not- stay in this small city…being stuck with me.” you replied, hoping he would meet eye with you again.
jungkook was tired of arguing about this. he knew the both of you weren’t the best when it came to communicating, he didn’t want to leave your city because you were in it, but he knew it might’ve been the end when he saw his name on the office announcement. he told you he couldn’t accept doing long distance, while you simply replied over text “then let’s just end it all. no matter if you go or not. let’s just end it here.” and that ruined him. 
it was almost like you just desperately wanted to get rid of him.
if only he had the balls to drive to your house to talk this out, but he didn’t.
he absolutely should’ve, but he didn’t. 
“look at this! it’s painful.” he stopped in his thoughts when your head found his chest, you were pointing to the bruises he had left on your thigh. “jungkook! bruises.”
jungkook didn’t want to respond at all, but couldn’t help looking down on your pretty body. many parts of your skin were turning red from his roughness. he knew he didn’t use much strength at all, your skin was just easily sensitive. but he couldn’t help but feel his heart soften slightly when he heard your voice full of sulk. 
he spoke with a gentle tone “sorry,” while circling an arm around your waist, massaging your hips. “does it still hurt?”
“yeah.”
jungkook adjusted his position, hovering over you, he kissed every single mark he made on your body, making sure every single area on your skin was being loved. 
“what now?”
you knew exactly what he was asking about. what now? us? but you played dumb once again. “what?”
looking down at you his tongue ran over his pillow lips, he remained silent. 
“you explain the matching sneakers first.” you raised your eyebrows.
“i bought them on purpose after i saw her wearing them after friday dinner. to piss you off.” jungkook replied.
but he didn’t include the part where he rejected her forwardly and blatantly the first night when he drove her home after dinner. he didn’t include the part where he asked her the night before going bowling if she could help him with a favor. he didn’t include the part where the favor was to ask her if she could come and help him act this way to piss you off. 
you couldn’t help but let a giggle slip when he stared at you with a straight face. “okay, now i like you a whole lot again.”
after receiving a satisfying answer, a smile of relief crept onto his face, feeling his jaw unclench. “so you’re not just in it for one single fuck?” he teased.
“one won’t be enough.”
“give me an amount then.”
“i don’t know…until you’re bored of me? i guess?” you replied, intertwining your hand with his.
i will never get bored of you, he thought to himself. he looked at your soft hand interlocked with his, not only will he never get bored of you, but he’ll also never let go of this hand ever again.
his other hand reached for your earlobe.
after getting back together with jungkook, you’ve realized how different this man has become over this time. 
you remember him sometimes being very unreasonable, overprotective, almost overwhelming- of a boyfriend. and of course, sometimes jealousy is cute! you get that, but he was over the top about it. but now- now this is different. 
it’s the indifferences that make a relationship cute!
occasionally you still pull a cheeky lie, telling him that you’re going home to rest- but bumping into him in a local bar. he wouldn’t be angry at all, unlike before. instead, he would drag you with a teasing smile to come drink at his table. that’s when you know you’re in for a long night back at his house.
but there was something you really wanted to talk out with him. 
one summer night, when the cold wind was blowing through his large window, you turned your body to face him- there was something that was keeping you up tonight. he felt your movement next to him, “what’s up?”
“it’s been like…two months since we got back together, right?”
“right.”
“i think i want to talk some things out.”
thank god the night was dim, and jungkook was grateful because of that, he knows the expression on his face is not very charming. if this was a face-to-face conversation, he doesn’t know how he’ll be able to handle it. 
“yeah?” there was a hint of calmness in his voice, almost like he was forcing it. jungkook doesn’t know what to expect. he thought there would be a different result this time- he’s a different person! he finds himself desperately praying with his aching heart that this will not be another heart-shattering break-up again. 
at least, this time it's in person, right?
right?
he was lost in panic when your hand squeezed him under the quilt. 
“jungkook, do you think i broke up with you because i wanted to get rid of you?”
was it not? the three words were stuck in his throat, but he wanted to hear your voice more than his own right now.
“well, it wasn’t. it was for a more stupid reason- not because you were clingy, and whatever you thought. i wanted you to be successful, of course. but it was all out of my stupidity, i texted that out of anger, i didn’t actually mean it. i just wanted to see if you would come find me. come talk it out. i know we both weren’t good with words.”
you lowered your voice, “stupidly, a selfish part of me- even though i wanted you to get the job- a little bit of me still wished that you would’ve picked me over that.” after your little statement, you felt a heavy rock was lifted from your chest.
the hand that you held slightly twitched under your grip. he fully moved to face you. you turned away out of embarrassment. 
to honestly admit that you love jeon jungkook, is a harder thing than you thought. 
you felt the mattress vibrate, and then you realize he was now laughing at you. “i believe everything you say, even if you lied to my face, i would trust you without a doubt, y/n.” 
“that was all my honest words!!!”
“i know. i know.” he said through chuckles. you turned towards him, embracing your urge to touch your lips with his. with muffled laughter, he moves right on top of you, locking both sides of your body with his strong thighs. 
it’s annoying how he’s still smiling….when he’s peeling your pyjamas off you.
his eyes are glassy and glowy under the reflection of the moonlight, you could get lost in them for days. 
“i don’t care what you say,” he tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear, “i’ve always loved you more than you did me. y/n.”
“okay then.” you replied, not wanting to argue with the man who was currently pressing lovebites on your neck.
jungkook smirks against your neck, 
way, way more. (end)
here is my masterlist if you want to enjoy some more of my writing!
and until next time, kae.
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bokettochild · 1 month
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I cannot BELIEVE no one told me we had an update!!!!!
Anyways, here's my favorite bits as always, because I need to SCREAM about this one!
The rupee acquisition!
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I love how JoJo included that traditional *item acquired* pose that all the Links do, and gave it a reason in the comic (Wind insisting he hold it up is just so fun)
Sky's comment though, "don't spend it all in one place". Isn't that a line you get in Skord when you acquire rupees? The cute little easter eggs here are so fun!
I also really love how Legend is taking an instructional role here, both with Wars and the champion!
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While also letting his veteran show
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and I love that the rest recognize that! Wild calling Legend "an expert" and actually listening to what he has to say, even if he doesn't agree with it.
I also super like the panels of Twilight's interaction with Legend here
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Very eldest and middle sibling discussing the youngest child, and I love it. It reminds us that, even for all the cuteness we got between them in the last arc, Twilight still sees Legend as too rough around the edges, enough that it borders on bullying when it comes to some of the rest, and he's trying to curb that. And Legend is LISTENING, because (as I've said a thousand times) Legend respects Twilight and values his opinion. Twilight is his big brother too now and Legend, while still being himself, genuinely seems to care about his opinion.
Twilight's just tense in general, although why, I think is mostly because of Time's sharp scolding in the last update. Even though he's snapping back at the younger ones, he's not very happy to be snapped at right now, and he's eager to get out from under Time's watchful eye.
Time and Warriors
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Because while he feels e has grounds to correct Legend for telling Wild what to do, Warriors straight up subtly scolding his protege is different. And the difference is that Legend and Wild and Twi had camaraderie (see Dawn p.3), they're brothers, but Wars is approaching this as a commander, a captain, and Twi doesn't appreciate that. Warriors isn't their leader though, but he's taking that role anyways. (Old habits die hard, I'm sure)
I mean, we all knew Wars was going to confront Wild sooner or later, but I'm glad he was so calm about it. Twilight's ruffled feathers (fur) is more from Time being overbearing, I believe, so it aggravates any slight annoyance Warriors might present.
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Even despite some of our suspicions earlier, I like this bit here. Wild was a soldier once, and the captain is very much the image of what he would have worked with before. JoJo mentioned wanting to play with that dynamic, with them bothering having military background, and I think this is that training (hundred years ago though it was) kicking in and making the champion defer to the man who outranks him (as far as they know). Granted, they all call Wars "Captain" but this felt pointed.
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I do love Four acting as the word of wisdom here, advising Time, just like he does Twilight, as to the best way to handle a team. it's a reminder that he's done this before, and he knows how teamwork can be, but also that sometimes you need space and working together means working in different areas.
Anyways, here's a couple bonus things that make me happy!
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Bunny stance!
(shh, I know he's making a point by stepping on Wild's toes, let me have this)
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Wars being so freaking pretty! Dear Hylia help me! (Is it wrong I understand Cia a bit now?)
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Wind being the youngest sibling who is Done With Your Chatter
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A competent boy being competent (and not as experienced as Ledge, but pretty darn close (if you've played both their games you know))
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Showing off items! (I can hear the little ✨da nana na✨)
And of course, I love Time being a tired, overprotective parent (he looks like my mom here, good grief!)
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myouicieloz · 4 months
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Collide
Huh Yunjin x 6th member!reader
Synopsis: you can’t take your eyes off her, specially when she’s dancing. thankfully, yunjin makes sure to put up a show for you.
Warnings: suggestivee. safe for work ma babes ^^
Word count: 1.6k
Notes: I SHALL PERSEVERE. fuckass writers block 😤. i will noooooot proofread this ^^
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“Oh my God. Are you ok?” Yunjin asks, turning her attention away from her choreography as soon as she catches you desperately choking on water.
You throw your phone on the other side of the couch— as well as the bottle you were holding, in hopes of controlling the coughing fit that has you shaking rather violently. Still trying to gasp for air, you manage to nod, thumbs up to let Yunjin know you’ll most likely live.
“Just fine.” Your voice comes in between breaths, still accompanied by weakened coughs. “I drank too much at once.”
She giggles, walking towards the couch so you can sit side by side. You make sure to grab your phone back so your bandmate doesn’t reckon the cause of your coughing fit: scrolling through TikTok, you found a fan cam of the red-haired girl performing at their showcase just days ago.
Her bare waist, tight cropped and low-waisted jeans were enough for you to breathe in deeply, looking anywhere in the empty room but at her; carefully to not be reminded of the sin that was your bandmate’s body. Not only that, but the way she moved, too— sharp and flawless, skilled as she played with her hair and bit her lip while looking at the damn camera. Yunjin is well aware of how hot she is, and she sure as hell makes good use of that when performing.
It’s torture.
“Are you sure?” She frowns, and it’d be adorable if your mind wasn’t clouded by how she’d react if you just pushed her down the small sofa and ruined her relentlessly until someone had to barge in, worried about the screams coming from the room— only to find her whimpering under your touch, begging for more. “Your face is all flushed, and your skin feels hot. Y/n, are you sick?”
You shake your head, doing your best to duck from your bandmate’s attentive touches. It’s comforting to have her hand cupping your cheek, but her touches are electrifying. A single brush of her fingers is and your heart skips a beat, along with a familiar ache that starts growing in your core.
“It’s nothing, unnie. Don’t worry.” Her smile is so pretty. She loves to be loved by you. “You might want to take a small break, though. Come on, you’ve been here for hours already! Don’t push yourself too hard.” You offer, even though it’s obvious she’s going to decline. Yunjin’s too much of a perfectionist, so much so that it’s incredibly common to find her in that same practice room during late hours of the night, rehearsing the group’s choreography so she’ll be nothing but perfect once they go on stage.
The hate train Lesserafim’s been receiving has been getting to her, you know it as much. It’s easy to see in her chapped-off nails, disheveled hair, and how she never stays still, due to the amount of coffee she consumes on a single day. She’s too hard on herself, and you wish she’d open up more. How much better would it be if she just didn’t bottle it up so much, and relied on you instead? You’re bandmates, after all.
Touchy as she’s always been, Yunjin grabs your hand and leads you to the middle of the dance room, in front of the mirror. You’re left standing awkwardly, with a confused face until she rushes back with a chair. “Actually, I needed your help with something.” She gestures for you to sit, which you do. “It’s my turn to record something for TikTok, and manager-im asked it to be a dancing piece. Can you tell me if it’s good?”
You gulp when she launches her jacket lazily onto the ground, setting up her song of choice on her phone. The beat starts slow as the singer’s sweet voice echoes through the room, and Yunjin walks towards you in unhurried, precise steps. There’s not enough air, with all your mind clogged by her, and you can feel the slick dripping from your cunt. Once she finally reaches you… it’s insane. Her fingers brush your collarbone, the shadow of a proper touch has you shivering as she places both of her hands on your elbows and pushes herself down, her hips swirling just as the melody drags on— you can’t do anything but hold her by the hips, adding pressure to her rocking back and forth in your lap.
Her covered cunt brushes against yours and it’s the best feeling you’ve ever experienced; it feels heavenly, to have the friction just right where you need it. Yunjin’s arms go up in an arched movement, leaving her pretty neck all exposed. It’d be so easy to just push her in and suck on her porcelain skin until no makeup could hide such hickeys. Along with the song, she breathes in, which rides her crop top enough that you can see her lack of a bra.
It’s borderline painful: the way her actions lit your body on fire, the desperate need for more, the way she does a hair flip, still so attentive to the music you don’t even hear anymore. The only bang in your head comes from the pleasure building up down in your lower abdomen, waiting. Anticipating.
Yunjin grabs you by the neck just as the chorus hits, brushing her mouth against yours. She makes her way down to your neck, teasing her teeth against your clavicle whilst her other hand toys with the hem of your sweatpants, tapping in the right rhythm. “Do you want it?”
“More than anything.” Your response comes immediately. You’re soaked, and there’s nothing more in the world you want more than for her to touch you. “Please, Jen… Want your fingers inside.”
Yunjin is always eager to please, and you’re so glad for that. Her hand makes her way past your panties, and she smirks once she’s met with the mess you’ve made. “Does my dancing turn you on that much?” Her sultry tone does nothing but entice your moans, “Oh, Y/n… that’s pathetic.”
In any other situation, you’d give her mockery an answer just as filthy. But as her fingers brush your slit, gathering slick as Yunjin uses your juices to press her thumb on your clit, you can only muster a loud whine. Tangling your arms under her neck, you lift your hips a bit further, in hopes of having more.
More. It’s all you want. You need more.
“Jen, f-fuck. Please, I need—“ Two of her fingers enter your cunt unannounced, making you grasp. Yunjin’s movements are just as precise as her choreography, thrusting in and helping with the ache in your pussy right where you need it.
You’re not proud of how lewd you sound, all at your bandmate’s mercy as she fastens her pace on your dripping sex. She’s still in your lap, and the combined pressure feels just perfect.
Yunjin’s mouth leaves a trail of kisses in the valley of your boobs, her wet, cherry lips enticing the fire in your body. “I know what you need, baby. Just let go for me, you can do it.”
One command of hers and the tingling sensation that has been building up in your body explodes, allowing you to feel the wave of pleasure you’ve been so eagerly anticipating from the moment you entered the room. You cum with a high cry, with Yunjin’s fingers going even faster as you ride out from your orgasm. It’s not enough, though — you still need more. You think she’s going to give it to you, but your friend’s fingers retreat completely.
Yunjin’s left you a breathless mess, hot and bothered and just so desperate to have her in any way as you stare at her, hopeless and confused.
“Why’d you stop?” You whine, puting.
Yunjin laughs at the sight of your puppy eyes, so big and watery from frustration.
“Because that was it.” Her answer is resolute as if she didn’t make you cum seconds prior. With a fake frown, she adds, “Should I post it? Is it good enough?”
Taking a deep breath, you bite your lip as your hands find their way to her waist, bringing her to your lap once again. Even the smallest amount of friction _hurts_, from how horny you are, and you wince.
Noticing your struggles, Yunjin giggles as she leaves small, wet kisses on your jaw. You decide to play coy, too, “Not at all. In fact, I think you need a lot more practice. Go again, from the beginning… please?”
Yunjin laughs so hard she drops her head back, pinching your nose. “Sure, baby. I think so too.”
You kiss her again, exploring your way into her pretty mouth as your hands lift her shirt, groping her tits. Yunjin makes an effort to be perfect, and you’re so glad for her hard work.
“Oh, and Y/n?” She calls you, her tone all innocent. Yunjin’s lips are addicting, and she’s such a good kisser… it’s nearly impossible to focus on anything else. You hum in acknowledgment, and that seems to be enough for her, “You should lower your phone’s brightness before watching my thirsty edits, next time.”
You’d for sure choke again, if it weren’t for her devious laugh, silencing your shock with her sultry movements on your lap.
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disneyprincemuke · 11 months
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midnights, 5 * mv1
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max knows how much you hate thunderstorms, and he can't help but think of you when he's home and there's one
pairings: max verstappen x fem!reader
warnings: nothing~
notes: some might say i'm using midnights as a way to cope with my rough breakup from like 7 months ago but i can't be too sure (oversharing is my personality)
(prev) // (next)
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max had been on his driving simulator playing a game when the rain started to pour about 10 minutes ago. he didn't even realise that it had been raining that heavily until jimmy and sassy curled up by his lap.
now he's on the couch, both cats snuggled up into his thigh with the tv on. from the corner of his eye, he notices the crackling bright lights that break up the sky that’s often accompanied by a rumble.
it started off soft, but it’s gradually getting louder.
his mind starts to drift to you. max doesn’t imagine you’re sleeping well in these conditions - or that you're even able to. you’ve always hated thunderstorms in the middle of the night, claiming that all the ruckus is more disruptive than relaxing.
on nights like these, he would typically hold you tight in his arms. he would be sat up against the headboard while you lie on his chest, chatting with you as a distraction from the noise. on rare occasions, he would brush your hair until you’ve fallen asleep on him.
he wonders how well you’re coping with it now that he’s not next to you. he glances at his face-down phone, wondering if he should check in on you just for tonight.
it wouldn’t have to lead to anything — he just wants to make sure.
he just needs to ensure you’re not curled up into a ball in a corner with your hands on your ears. he can still remember it like daylight when it happened the first time.
it was your very first night in his apartment, and you’d both fallen asleep very early in the evening. at some point in the night, it started to rain heavily. a particularly loud thunder had shaken him awake but when he tried to pull you closer to his body, he realised you were no longer in bed with him.
he muttered your name and found you curled in the far corner of his bedroom. your knees were pressed to your chest, chin resting on top with your phone on the ground with a video illuminating your face. even with your airpods in, you still had your hands over your ears.
you weren’t crying, but you were definitely shaken up quite a bit. he managed to get you back into bed but you didn’t fall asleep for another 2 hours. so he stayed up with you in hushed whispers and muted giggles until you drifted off to sleep on his chest.
thunder rumbles, actually surprising him with its intensity as he juggles his phone from falling on sassy. even his cats flinch at the loud sound and snuggle even further into his thigh.
now he’s growing even more concerned about your whereabouts. when there’s a thunderstorm and you’re apart because of his race, he tries to call and talk to you until the storm has passed.
but it seems that he’s lost that privilege to ask if you’ll be okay tonight. he doesn’t even know if you’d answer his message.
the paranoia of your wellbeing never leaves, because he keeps glancing at his phone for a call or message from you. if you called him right now and asked him to come over, he would go to you without a doubt and another thought.
his phone lights up and buzzes, actually making his heart jump in his chest. the excitement immediately disappears when he finds out who the notification is from.
it’s just daniel, asking him if he’s doing fine over the break.
daniel hasn’t left him alone since his confession that night in qatar. though he was able to leave the bar on his own, the older driver was knocking on his hotel room door 10 minutes later.
daniel just hung in his hotel room until he fell asleep. max assumed that he wasn’t trusted to be on his own after a confession that shook daniel, because he was gone by the time he woke up the next morning.
max has tried asking alexandra about you, once after the main race in qatar. but she just shook her head and gave him a weak smile before walking away. charles could only mimic his girlfriend's response with a pat on his shoulder, promptly moving on to talk about other things.
nights like these, max usually sleeps peacefully. unlike you, rain and thunderstorms mixed with the darkness of the night calm him. since your distaste for the combination, he has learned to enjoy it differently.
he loves the late-night conversations he shared with you and having your weight on him. he misses the intimacy of just lying in the dark room with you, talking and mapping out your future together.
your future. your future that suddenly seems like a blurry hallucination, once being the only thing that he would look forward to when he would think about the course of his life. your future that's now obsolete.
max doesn't fall asleep at a reasonable time that night. he waits for the weather to calm and everything to go silent before he does. it's his way, on his own, to feel like you're still here with him. even if you're not.
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taglist: @merchelsea @leclercdream @labelledejourr @laneyspaulding19 @lpab @graciewrote @hollie911 @thatsojasminesworld @mycenterfold
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Text
Babysitting Their Kid-Selves
I threw this together in a haze on Discord uhhhh enjoy thank you to @windalchemist001 for putting the idea In My Brain
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HEARTSLAYBUL
Riddle - struggles between wanting to help his youngerself have positive experiences, but also knows that depending on how old he is, it might just be super stress inducing. Finds a middle ground in giving his younger self an "easy" assignment and then giving him the time of his life, 10/10
Trey - he's burnt out from being the oldest, and from momming Riddle, and from taking care of the dorm. His kid self is being told to go play outside and don't get hurt (which his kid self obeys, and comes in when he's hungry and that's about it) very laissez-faire bc he can't be bothered. He knows the other boys in the dorm wouldn't let his kid self get hurt anyways, especially Riddle, who likely ends up taking the brunt of the responsibility 7/10
Cater - hehe yeah his kid self is Traumatized, he brings him to play video games/teach him to skate board/intro to Not Sweet snacks and ends up getting a kid trauma dumping to him. Or. he sees his kid self and nopes out, immediately asks anyone else to take care of him because he's gonna go :sparkles:cry:sparkles: but you don't need to know that. Either 9/10 or a 2/10
Deuce - Awkward at first, but honestly, just does what his mom did for him, smooth sailing, 10/10
Ace - "hah, I'm the best babysitter in the world, only the coolest kids can handle me. Think you have what it takes?" <- secretly really good with kids but only because he had his big brother as a role model. He also knows now all the tricks his big brother used on kid him so he has some fun being that to himself, as much as a handful as kid self is. 8/10
SAVANNACLAW
Leona - Sees how hopeful his younger self was, knows that Savannaclaw knows better than to fuck with it, leaves his child self in community care and leaves bc he doesn't want to reminded of the love he didn't recieve when he was little 10/10 for looking out for both of their mental health
Ruggie - oh my god he adores younger self, teaches him everything he knows, uses his "adorability" to his advantage, but also uses Leona's cash to buy ingredients for a food his younger self rarely got to try as a treat. Honestly, 10/10
Jack - He's a little awkward around his kid self, asks Leona for advice, gets none, asks Vil for advice, Vil ends up Momming and taking over sorry baby Jack. N/A he didn't give up the child intentionally but he also didn't really get to babysit
OCTAVINELLE
Azul - Oh hell no, like at first its like "look how far of come" but the self loathing immediately takes over again. Kid Azul's only saving "grace" is the tweels who terrify the baby by accident but are actually really soft and caring with him. Azul just makes sure his kid self has something to hide in bc "nobody wants to look at that" 2/10
Jade - Knows What He's Doing, and he's going to treat his kid self as gently as possible because he knows what's coming for him in later years :) 10/10
Floyd - Does fine until the kid cries and then pawns his kid self off to Jade 6/10
SCARABIA
Kalim - He's a big brother, but he's not big brother, you know? He likes to make sure the kid has fun and feels safe but he forgets to take breaks and give him water and oh god now he's on a magic carpet bc child self has to go to the bathroom and they're on the WRONG side of the dorm. Very caring, very loving, a little airheaded. If he takes his attention off him he wanders off. Jamil usually has to step in, but neither of them want him to. 7/10
Jamil - In a similar boat to Leona, but instead of leaving his kid self to someone else, he ends up going off campus with his kid self and lets him beat him in races/video games/ dance offs/ etc. so he can feel like he's the best at something for once. They end up cooking together, and honestly it heals adult Jamil a lot too 10/10
POMEFIORE
Vil - Carries a bit of contempt as well as admiration for his younger self. There is a part of him that wishes things had gone differently. Vil likely ends up keeping his kid self in his room all day, but while they're in there, they do all the things Vil remembers wishing he could do, like throwing a tantrum, finally having his feelings about Neige be validated, making a mess, eating whatever he wants, etc. etc. It's just it takes half the day for him to get to that point, before there's a break through it's almost pure ice on adult Vil's side with his kid self just sitting on the bed. 6/10
Rook - Doesn't want anything to do with his kid self, knows his kid self is self sufficient, tells him to not talk to anyone and leaves him alone. ???/10
Epel - Epel uses his kid self as an excuse to go get messy and dirty and play all day. He WILL blame his kid self for any accidents that may occur inside of Pomefiore. Kid self finds it unfair but funny, but can be bought back with some apple slices with caramel. It's a lot of fun, but a lot of clean up. 8/10
IGNIHYDE
Idia - Blames his younger self for the whole ||Ortho|| thing and uh. Would probably lock him out of his room. Ignores/pretends he doesn't exist. Kid Idia seeing ||Ortho "alive"|| would probably have him breaking down. 0/10
Ortho - .....
DIASOMNIA
Malleus - Can't handle his kid self as much as he insists that he can. Probably does something that accidentally triggers himself (both versions) and Lilia has to take over before there's a major melt down. They do have ice cream together after. 5/10
Lilia + Silver - I'm Waiting, Sorry
Sebek - Doesn't want to take care of his kid self. At first he thinks it's cool but then his kid self is biting everything, asking so many questions, getting close to Malleus without permission, showing off his adorable baby side, and kinda hates big Sebek purely because he has magic "already". (Sebek was canonically a 'late bloomer' with magic). He gets Too Stressed and then also gets more pissed off when Silver seems to do a better job baby sitting, but Lilia runs intervention. uhh. 3/10
hhhhhhhhhh bye Tag list: @fluffle-writes @my-cursed-brain
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night-raven-tattler · 9 months
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Say hi to daddy!
Summary: How would these characters behave as fathers? What does their ideal family look like?
Characters: Heartslabyul dorm (Riddle, Ace, Deuce, Trey, Cater)
Other parts of the series: Savanaclaw, Octavinelle, Scarabia, Pomefiore, Ignihyde, Diasomnia, Royal Sword Academy
By opening the document, you agree to Mx Tattly's terms of source confidentiality.
-ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈
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He has so many shelves filled with parenting books everyone thinks he's preparing for writing his own study on parenting
Riddle is the type to panic whenever his child does things that are not written in the books or they don't pass certain milestones according to the research he's done
On one hand, Riddle is a logical man, who knows not all children all the same
On the other hand, he has no idea what good parenting actually looks like, so he assumes everything that goes "wrong" is his fault
For Riddle, parenting will be a journey full of a lot of growing and healing, healing his inner child especially
While hesitant to interact with his child at the beginning due to not wanting to snap at them unintentionally, once he's eased into it he'll become very attached
Riddle will be a little pushy when it comes to school at some point, but it comes from a place of care, and he will spend as much time as needed to tutor his child for any subject and reqard them when needed
He has scheduled play time, naps, meals and the occasional strawberry tart from uncle Trey when the child reaches an appropriate age
I can see Riddle as a boy dad and having only 1 child (that he, unfortunately, dresses like a small victorian child), 2 kids would be a bit too overwhelming for him
『••✎••』
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Ace is, hands down, the fun parent
Always taking care of the tasks that involve more fun having than care taking, Ace is the go-to parent for when any child is upset and crying
Card tricks, stories with fun voices, playtime that crosses curfew by a few minutes, his personal mission is to make his children have fun and enjoy things
When they get older, they'll have to learn how to deal with Ace's honesty and his roundabout way of telling them he cares about them
Ace is not a person to hold back from saying what he thinks, so both him and his children will have to find a middle ground in order to not hurt each other
For Ace, parenting will become the perfect opportunity to become gentler with his words, and his love for the people he cares about will finally have a good place to go to
Once the kids are old enough, prank wars become a thing in the household
Not even poor uncle Deuce who drops by after work is free of the classic whoopee cushion
Ace definitely has a daughter, and no more than 2-3 kids
『••✎••』
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If the dictionary had a picture next to "girl dad", it would be a picture of Deuce
He is the most gentle, most nervous parent out of his Heartslabyul dormmates
While he is not huge on looking into parenting books, he asks his mother for advice at least once a day
Until one day, when things just start flowing naturally and the parental instinct fully kicks in
When his babies get fussy, he likes to take them out on walks, to feel the calming wind and see the pretty sky
He slowly introduces all of his kids to blastcycles and taking them on small trips, even though he might get scolded himself for that
Deuce goes from being afraid of breaking his precious little babies to being a lover of roughhousing
Who would've thought that Deuce's feisty personality would also go to his kids to some degree? /s
Deuce is very afraid of finding out one of his kids is going down a darker path and becoming less appreciative of the things around them
While it will be a struggle and it will throw Deuce into an identity crisis, he'll do what he knows best: he won't give up on them, and keep loving them until they learn their lesson
If Deuce is capable of change, anyone is
Deuce is a family man, he'd love a few kids, not any more than 4 though
『••✎••』
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Trey is the kind of parent who loves carrying around his children everywhere he goes, even while doing errands
He has baby chairs and carriers all over the house, and a bunch of baby sized kitchen accessories
Trey introduces cooking and baking to his children very early: they have special utensils that they know how to use from the age of 3
Some might think it's extreme, but Trey is determined to build their independence from a young age
He is kind of the picture perfect dad, not gonna lie: he is caring, stern but not strict and is the epitome of gentle parenting
He encourages his children to be creative, inside and outside of the kitchen
And he praises anything his kids show off to him
Yeah, he is the parent who puts drawings up on his fridge and stuff
Trey sometimes brings the kids to the bakery to increase the number of customers through some sweet displays of family time
If you ask him, he'll say it was uncle Cater's idea, but he's lying
Trey would definitely lean towards a bigger family, maybe 6 kids at the most, since he will get the hang of daddy-ing quite fast
Plus, uncle Che'nya is a very eager babysitter
『••✎••』
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I really think Cater is into the new dad aesthetic
Posting pics of him and his new baby on Magicam, with the kid holding onto his finger with their tiny hand, with their first blankie, meeting uncle Trey for the first time
But he always keeps their face out of the picture or blurs it
Cater loves dancing between sharing his joys on social media and maintaining some privacy for his child until they are old enough to tell him if they want their picture to be posted
Cater is a fun dad all around: he loves going on small trips, piggy back rides, rocking his kiddo to sleep
He attends parenting classes before having his first child, and enjoys interacting with the local new mommies committee
Unfortunately, he is a bit reserved when the child becomes fussy or upset
Old habits die hard, and he knows he has to be open with his child for the betterment of their relationship
...yet, he is scared of being hated by his own child
It's terrifying, especially in the moments when his baby calls for their dad, and Cater gives in and starts soothing his little one
It's a struggle, not gonna lie, but Cater is willing to make baby steps
One child is enough for Cater, and he is definitely a boy dad in my eyes
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Drabble Roulette: Matt Murdock - Flowershop AU
Hey hey! This weekend (July 6 -7) I’m going to be playing drabble roulette! I’ve curated a list of characters, tropes, AUs, and kinks and I’m spinning the wheel! Hopefully I can do this once a month as a little writing exercise.
Character: Matt Murdock
Warnings: this drabble includes no blatant triggers. Please mind these warnings and take care.
Explicit, 18+.
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You tend to tune the world out. Literally. Your overear headphones block out the noise of the street, not that there's very much going. It's early.  
You prefer to open. The atmosphere is placid and you can do things at your own pace. The shop owner turns up on time anyhow, often carried away at some thrift shop or estate sale. Zuzana is kind but a bit flighty. Besides, you won't complain for as long as you get a check. 
It isn't until you feel the change beneath your soles that you realise something’s amiss. You look up at the store window, the middle pane gone but for a few shards left in the frame. On the pavement are the remnants. 
You look down, careful as you step off the pile. Any of the jagged pieces could easily slice through your flats.  Your mind goes blank as your usual routine lays in ruin with the shop window. 
You stand and stare. A tapping slowly tapers up behind you. You ignore it, too concerned with the window. What are you going to tell Zuzana?  
Well, what exactly happened? Why did the culprit smash the store front? A robbery? Or vandalism? Are they still inside? 
"You should watch your step," a familiar voice girds as a shard is bounced against the brick.  
You turn to face Matt. He's a regular. He still his cane, holding it straight to the ground as he cranes his head behind his dark glasses, as if he can actually see the shattered window. 
"Someone had quite the night," he says. 
"Um, yeah..." you murmur. 
He's a regular. You suspect he comes in for the conversation more than the flowers. He's always friendly.  
"I should check inside," you utter. 
"No, you should stay out here," he grips his can and swings it back forth, "let me have a look..." he clucks, "you know what I mean." 
You don't know if it's a joke or a misnomer. He grins and it eases the tension.  
"Matt, you can't--" 
"Why? I'm blind, not weak." 
"I didn't--" 
"Give me your keys," he holds his hand out, "I'm good at finding things in the dark. Trust me." 
You sigh and fish in your bag. You hand over the keyring and he moves forward. He's braver than you. The thought of going inside makes you nervous but he doesn't hesitate. 
"Be careful," you call after him. 
He chuckles. He's entirely unbothered. You wait as he unlocks the door and taps inside. You hold your breath, inching closer. You hear more broken glass. 
The tension wraps around your throat. You yelp as Matt appears in the broken window. His head moves back and forth and he holds something up. 
"Do you know what this is?" He asks, extending his arm. 
You step around the glass and take the paper. You turn it one way then the other before you unfold it. There's jagged writing on the inside but the most startling part is your name. 
"Is it a receipt? It was on the counter. With this." 
He holds out a stuffed pink rabbit. You stare at it. You have a collection of rabbit figurines at home. It started as a child, a fan of Peter Rabbit and his friends.  
You look at the letter again. 
"What is it?" He asks. 
"There's no signature in the letter," you say numbly. "But it has my name on it." 
He's silent. He brings the toy back to feel the floppy ears. He hums. 
"Secret admirer?" He wonders.  
"I... don't know," you murmur. 
"Worse, considering," he raises the end of his cane to poke the empty window frame, "I'll stay while you call the cops. Whoever it is, I think they might come back." 
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randombush3 · 7 months
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another snippet while I slave away lol
this one hurt a bit to write x
“My mums are lesbian!” he blurts out, excited enough to attract the attention of his teacher. When she appears, he grins at her sweetly; the kind of smile that has melted many hearts, though Nico is unaware of how many people know he exists. “More paper, please.” 
“Nico, you haven’t even tried with your first one.”
She isn’t harsh at all, but he has slowly learnt to stop asking follow-up questions. Six months of exasperated ‘I don’t know, Nicolau’s has taught him that. 
He shrugs. “Okay.”
He learnt what a shrug was the other day, when Mapi told him off for doing it to her. (“Don’t shrug your shoulders at me, Nicolau Putellas!” she had chided playfully. “All I asked was which of your mamas’ houses we need to go to.”)
“Nico, what’s ‘lesbian’?” 
“Mama says football is lesbian. Basketball might be lesbian! That’s why your sister is lesbian.” 
“My mum says that lesbians kiss girls.”
“Mama kisses girls! And Mami. And they used to kiss each other but now they don’t speak and me and my sister swap houses.” Nico begins drawing it out for Paula when she peers at him, befuddled. “Here is Mama’s.” A big square, a glamorous-looking woman inside of the blue shape; a stick with a circle on the end of it; the notes he sees in his piano music floating in the air. “And…” he says, tongue sticking out as he concentrates on the opposite half of the page, “here is Mami’s.” 
He draws a football. He picks up the red crayon too, and uses both the blau and the grana simultaneously. “Mami plays football for Barça.” He draws two lines on Alexia’s t-shirt. 11. “Mami made me get 11 at football.” Nico had originally worn the 10, but then the affair had come to light and Alexia was suddenly deep in conversation with his coach and apologising to the boy Nico then had to swap shirts with. 
Then, he drops the crayons in his hand and searches for the stack near Paula. He selects the purple one, gripping it tightly, his friend still listening to him with intrigue. 
“This is me and Lela.” Two stick figures are drawn in the middle of the page; the middle ground between each of the squares. 
Nico sometimes feels stuck between it all. 
When Mami got very sad, he and Elena went to stay with Mapi and Ingrid for a few nights. He held his little sister’s hand as much as he could. He always tries to remind her that he is right there with her. 
Mami once told him that it was his turn to protect Elena. Nico hasn’t forgotten that. 
“I keep Lela safe.” He has encouraged her, slightly selfishly, to call him ‘skipper’, which he has picked up from the Lionesses. Luckily, Alexia has not told him off for it because she doesn’t know what it means. “Lela is my little sister. She is a baby. She doesn’t remember what it was like when Mama and Mami loved each other, but I do.” 
The purple crayon scrapes on the page as he presses it into the white, colour rubbing out in the shape of a heart. “Lela and I are together. Mami tries to take me from her sometimes, but I don’t let her.” 
His story – and ability to make Paula pay attention for longer than ten seconds – has already garnered the quiet attention of his teacher, but she moves closer as Nico continues. The four-year-old leaves out how Alexia usually is inviting him to training with her. With Elena yet to show any interest in football, it remains her and Nico’s special thing, and, of course, she misses him when it is not her turn. 
You usually give your permission if you have no other plans. Alexia is upset that the only hindrance is the little boy who once worshipped her like a god. 
“Nico, why did you want two pages?” asks Paula curiously, assuming he is finished now that his whole family is displayed on the piece of paper. 
He frowns. “Because now I have to do this.” And with that, he tears the sheet in half. 
Paula’s mouth drops open in surprise, as does his teacher’s. 
“What’s wrong?” comes a mature voice, a hand placed on his shoulder just like it is when the other children in his class cry. Nico doesn’t cry. He is strong and brave, like a little soldier. “Did you not like your drawing?” 
“No,” he replies neutrally, “half can live with Mama, and half can live with Mami.” 
“But now you are ripped down the middle.” 
He traces the jagged edges of the halves of his life. One leg is on your side, the other on Alexia’s. 
“I know, but it’s okay. I don’t cry.”
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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 7 months
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Pretty like the sun
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Previous chapter / Last chapter
a/n This is pretty like the wind series spin offs. This can be read as standalone all you need to know is that Azriel has two adoptive kids with OC - Zofie and Axel. Future stories related to them might include stories specifically decided to Azriel hence why I am taging it as Azriel story too. Don't come at me please. ✨ Azriel’s pov is in this one. 🤍🫧
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Nyx’s pov:
He felt choked up as he flew over Velaris. They were far away from the crowded halls, yet Nyx still felt as if someone had their hands over his neck. It pressed deeply into his throat. He tried to breathe her in. His Sunny. The only good thing about his miserable existence. She was here. With him. In his arms. Holding onto him. He felt her heart beating. Her warm breath caressing the nape of his neck. It felt like a full-circle moment when he once again landed right in front of the lake cabin.
“You’re still shaking," Zofie muttered as Nyx carefully lowered her to the ground. Even the moon up above played in her favor. Making her skin look like porcelain. Her dark hair resembled the night sky Nyx had forgotten how to love. “I’m fine," he muttered, simply not dropping his eyes away from her.
Zofie stepped out of his reach. It was a logical move. There was no reason to hold onto one another. They weren’t in the sky anymore. She could very well stand on her own. But Nyx pulled her to him almost immediately. His fingers were itching to touch her.
"Nyx," she breathed when her cheek pressed against his chest once more. “Just a bit longer," he muttered, kissing the crown on her head and letting his lips linger there before adding, "Please." Zofie pulled back from him slightly. Just enough for her to look up at him, “You’re making me worried," she breathed. Her golden eyes pierced right through Nyx’s soul. He knew why it was strange. He hated physical touch. Too much smothering from his family had left him skittish of affection. But not with her. Never with her, even if he declined her at times.
“I just..." His words came out strangled, followed by a big gulp of air. “Are you having a panic attack?” Now she was pulling back, her tiny palms pressing against the left side of his chest. “No… I don’t know," Nyx admitted, running a clammy hand over his neck. Zofie looked at him for a heartbeat. A light frown settled permanent lines into her forehead. “You’re deep purple," she breathed, reaching for Nyx’s hands instantly, deep inky wains connecting them. “What?", Nyx managed to crock out before she started pulling him towards the cabin. His eyes lingered on their joined hands. It looked as if she was pulling the darkness out of him, and that didn’t sit right with him. The last thing Nyx wanted was to tarnish her with his demons. Yet he couldn’t seem to pull his hand out of her grasp. "Purple," Zofie muttered under her breath for what felt like a thousand times before she finally turned to face him, “What can I do?”. Her eyes were desperate as she searched through the cracks in Nyx’s mask.
He knew what the logical answer was. They would both benefit if they just sat there. If they didn’t get tangled up, pulling apart would be too painful. He knew that their parents would never approve, and this would just birth false hope that they could, after all, somehow be together. Yet he still mumbled a quiet, “Hold me.”
Zofie nodded as she went into the same room they had spent endless hours in. The bed was neatly made in the middle. The big windows give a clear view of the lake right in front of them. "Lay," she said, pushing Nyx towards the bed before bending to undo her heels. “This seems suggestive," he muttered, feeling pieces of his true self surfacing. "Nyx, you ass, lay down," she snickered, pushing at his chest. But he didn’t budge. He had promised her to appreciate the way she looked, so he let his eyes linger on her body and the way that expensive silk hugged all the right places. “Don’t get fucking ideas, you hear me?”, Zofie pointed a finger at him before hiking up her skirt as she climbed onto the mattress. Nyx couldn’t tear his eyes away from her. Mother above had crafted this girl in front of him. She couldn’t possibly be of the same breed as them all. No. Maybe, just like YN, she was part angel blood. Or maybe she was just an angel. Pure angel. And in that moment, Nyx couldn’t find a single reason why someone like her would want any piece of him. She straddled him with ease, and Nyx’s hands instantly reached for her hips. He was desperate to let his fingers slip beneath the material of her dress, but he held himself back. Especially since Zofie stiffened slightly at his touch, but with one final glance, she plopped her whole body right on top of his. Nyx let out a surprised huff. “What are you doing?” he asked.
“Putting pressure on your chest," she said as if it was the most self-explanatory thing to do. “For?” Nyx questioned, not that he was complaining. Zofie shifted slightly, and so did Nyx, angling his head to look down at her. “What happened to your eye?”, she muttered, her delicate fingers reaching out to touch a faint bruise on his face. It was beyond him how she still saw it because he was convinced that it had almost fully faded. No one had mentioned it when he returned home from the camps.
“Just a fight," Nyx shrugged slightly. “Have you been picking fights?”, Zofie glared at him with a slight shake of her head. “You left me unsupervised," he mused, brushing a strand of hair away from her eyes. “You seem of age to take care of yourself, no?”, her fingers continued to run soothing brushes beneath his eye. And then it dawned on him: “You’re distancing me," he huffed, making her smile ever so slightly. “Is it working?”, she asked innocently. His smart, smart girl. Leave it to her to know exactly what he needed.
“God, you’re pretty," Nyx breathed out after a moment of silence. "Stop," she growled, turning to hide her face in his chest, but Nyx was quick enough to catch her chin. “No, you need to know that." His gaze caught hers, and he was ready to swear that he was never going to look away. “I’m sorry that I said all of that to your father. I had no right, and you need to know how much I've regretted it ever since." The words fell out one after another. He had run over and over again in his head every single day they had been apart. "Nyx," Zofie muttered tenderly.
Nyx simply shook his head and said, “You trusted me, and I just went and spoiled it all." He felt his chest tighten with panic once more. "Nyx shut up," she huffed, cupping his cheek. “I’m not mad at you anymore," she promised. “You should be, and I deserve to be miserable," he reasoned back, but now it was her time to shake her head, “Don’t say that; never say that.”
“I missed you so much, fuck Sunny," Nyx muttered, feeling his eyes filling up with tears. His body was singing now that she was right here with him. “Do you even know how much I missed you?”, he questioned her, leaning in to press his forehead against hers. “Yeah, my heart has been aching ever since we parted," Zofie muttered, biting her lip to prevent her chin from wobbling. “Can I hold you through the night?”, Nyx blurted out, making Zofie let out a surprised gasp. “You’re supposed to hate cuddling, remember?”, she threw his own words back at him with a smirk. Nyx traced his fingers over her bottom lip, “Not with you, never with you." She inhaled shakily before nodding her head and saying, “Then yes, hold me through the night."
Azriel’s pov:
It was his first outing in weeks, and to say that he hated this party would have been an understatement. You always made it better. Filling in all the empty spaces in conversations that Azriel didn’t want to hold. Now you were back home with your daughter, and he was stuck here. How was that fair? His senses were still too sharp. That needs to protect what was only his running thickly through his blood. Until his eyes landed on the young man's, true, strong soldier’s stance. A smile tugged at Azriel’s lips.
“The uniform suits you, son," he breathed, clasping his oldest on the shoulder. Axel’s stance eased as he dropped all formalities, “I must honor our family.” And quite frankly, that’s all Axel has been doing. Azriel had told him many times that he didn’t have to prove himself to him. Azriel didn’t need titles. But Axel had stomped his foot on all that. He had been desperate to go foot-to-foot with Azriel. “You could be out there being a professional singer, and I still would be proud of you," Azriel reassured him. “Now that you mentioned it...", Axel smirked at his father, who too couldn’t help an honest chuckle.
“You’ve seen Zo?”, and it’s like all the blood had left him. His skin growing slightly greenish. “About that...", Axel sighed with a nervous laugh. “She’s with Nyx, isn’t she?", Azriel folded his arms over his chest. “Papa, you know...", Axel cut in, but Azriel shook his head. “I’m not going to say anything. Your mother said I need to get my shit together." And you did. Had sat him down for a long conversation. The thing was that Azriel didn’t hate or dislike Nyx. He was a smart young man. It was the letting go of Zofie that frightened him. The fact that she wouldn’t need him for comfort anymore. That she would find her peace within someone else. And he knew now, well after a couple of smacks on the head from you, that he was selfish in the way he kept dragging her back to him.
“He’s been missable, you know," Axel sighed, looking over the crowd. “Over what?”, Azriel asked. Only a handful of family members got through the walls the young prince had built. Azriel wasn’t a stranger to Rhys’s worried face when he would drift off mid-conversation these days, no doubt troubled by the fact that his blood and flesh was guarded away from him.
“Well, from what I gathered, Zo told him that they couldn’t be friends anymore, and Nyx practically lost all will to live." Old wounds cracked deep with Azriel’s chest. He knew that feeling all too well. You had been his light in the never-ending darkness. He had given up on joy and the future. But then in walked you.
“I think he likes her, like really likes her," Axel mused, turning towards his father. Azriel ran a hand over his stubble. “You probably think that I’m a monster for reacting the way I did." He had seen disapproval in Axel’s eyes as they all listened to her cry. Cry over the things Azriel has done. “No, I thought about bashing his nose in when I first realized that my best friend had feelings for my sister." Axel shrugged, earning a snicker from Azriel.
“So what changed?”, he asked quietly. Axel stayed silent for a heartbeat, “I think they are vital for one another. Zofie never has flare-ups when she’s with him, and Nyx... I think she pulls him out of the depths of his misery." Azriel bit the inside of his cheek, trying to hold a straight face. He had deep conversations with Axel before. On many topics. Love had been the only thing Azriel had held back from discussing. Even after a handful of years in a happy marriage, he did not feel confident enough to share what he knew.
“You’re a good friend, Axel, a good young man." Azriel patted Axel’s cheek before flicking his nose playfully. “I learned from the best now, didn’t I?, Axel said proudly. Azriel’s heart skipped a beat. Like it always did when he saw his kids looking up at him with nothing other than love. “Don’t; if I start tearing up in front of all of the generals, I will personally put you on bathroom duty," Azriel warned playfully as Axel threw him a challenging grin before nudging his father’s shoulder and saying, "I love you, Dad." Azriel put the boy in a headlock, ruffling his hair. “I love you too, Axel. Always will”.
As he pulled back, he saw something different glistening in Axel’s eyes. Not to mention that his attention was somewhere completely different. “How did you know that you were in love?”, Axel muttered. Azriel followed his gaze. A light smile tugged at his lips as he caught a girl in a gray robe hiding behind a pillar. “Nothing made sense without your mom, and for the first time, I felt as if I could show my deepest scars and the person in front of me wouldn’t run." It was the most truthful he had ever been when it came to love. Axel turned his attention back to his father; no doubt the words had stuck him deep. “It felt like coming home, Ax," Azriel muttered, watching the way little puzzle pieces fell into place for his oldest. Axel gave him a strong nod before ushering deeper into the crowd.
Zofie’s pov:
The morning sun filled the room. Warm rays of sunshine tickled the exposed skin on her back. Even with Nyx’s hand wrapped tightly over her back and providing heat to her through the night, Zofie still smiled at the feeling of the sun hitting her skin. They hadn’t talked much last night. Instead, stealing touches in the dark. Both felt the courage the moon had provided.
And now, with an early morning above them, she was watching him sleep. Staying as quiet as the mouse. Not daring to reach out and brush away his messy hair from his face. Not until the urge got too strong. She was careful. Just the moment her fingers touched his forehead, Zofie couldn’t help but frown. It was warm. Way too warm than usual. Had he fallen ill? Was it because she had stayed too close to him through the night?
Turning Zofie sat up, letting the blanket fall from her body. The worry was simmering inside her. She reached out once more. Hoping to carefully wake him up, she let her fingers brush over his warm face. Nyx’s eyes blinked open slowly, and the moment his purple orbs looked straight at her, something deep within her cracked. Cracked so loudly that, for a second, her hearing went out. She had pulled her palm away in hopes of covering her ears, only to freeze at the sight of her palm.
No. There was no way. This had to be a mistake. Maybe she too had fallen ill, considering that it felt like her own body was on fire now. “What is it?”, Nyx’s husky voice filled her senses. She watched as yellow, shimmering dust fell from his cheek. From where her palm had rested only moments ago. "Nothing," Zofie blurted out, trying to smile through the panic within her.
Nyx rolled over, his hands reaching out for her once more. “You’re too far away," he grumbled. “I’m sitting right beside you, Nyx," her voice cracked slightly, but he didn’t catch it as he snuggled deeper into her thigh. “You’re too far away," his fingers dug into her skin, “I want to be under your skin; be a part of you.”
Zofie felt the heat of his skin. A light frown ran down her face as she pulled away. He didn’t usually talk like that. Scrambling to get out of bed, she let her bare feet hit the wooden floor. Nyx let out an annoyed grumble, pulling his head up from the mattress. She caught a glimpse of his eyes then. No longer purple. No. The pupils were so dialed that they looked almost black. Wild eyes. Despite eyes. "Nyx," she breathed. “Get into bed," he muttered, sitting up.
“I don’t want to. We should go back," and it’s like she unleashed something deep within him. The thought of others unsettled something deep within him. He clenched his jaw before the back of his palms dug into his eyes. Something deep within her urged her to run. To hide, at least. She used to think that she heard her mother and dad warning her in her head. It had stopped at a certain age, but now it felt the same. So she slowly itched towards the door.
“Don’t even think about it, Zof," Nyx muttered, his voice raspy. “Don’t run, because I will chase you, and I don’t know what I will do." He let out a painful groan, making Zofie desperately want to reach out to him. “What are you feeling?”, she asked, her voice barely a whisper. Nyx laughed slightly, “You, I feel you." And then his Illyrian wings flustered behind him. Zofie nearly collapsed against the door. He always warned her before he shifted.
“You’ve been away from me for too long," Nyx breathed, moving to get out of bed. Her heart skipped a beat. Run. A voice rang out in her head, crippling her for a second before she turned back, quickly unlocking the door as she broke into a sprint. "Zofie," a warning growl rang out behind her. She could feel him. Feel the mix of emotions bubbling within him. He was practically breathing against her neck. There was no way she could outrun him. He was much faster and stronger. And driven by the force, she would no doubt lose the battle to.
Her panicked mind raced as she ran in zigzags, dodging Nyx’s hands in the shelter of trees. “Zofie, come on," he pleaded, but she didn’t even look back. She needed to get out. Get to her dad. He would know what to do. He would know what was happening. A gasp left her lips when she felt Nyx’s warm fingers lacing against her upper arm. She was screaming for a second before everything suddenly shifted, and she fell back into the pile of something soft. Zofie reached out around her blindly. Leaves. Her heart was hammering in her throat. She waited for Nyx to grab her. Waited to feel the heat from him. But nothing came. Nothing changed.
“What are you doing here?”, a voice startled her, making Zofie’s eyes fly open. Her blood ran cold for the second time that morning. Until a second figure emerged from behind the frame towering over her. “Zofie?”, a confused face glanced down at her no doubt disheveled frame. “Uncle Luci," she muttered right as the male in front of her crouched down to wrap his jacket over her shoulders.
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Taglist: @sirenpearldust @historygeekqueen @hnyclover @i-am-a-lost-girl16 @naturakaashi @stressed-reader @woodland-mist @goldenmagnolias @nocasdatsgay @lees-chaotic-brain @elle4404
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sencrose · 1 month
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-- WHY LET THE OFFAL GO TO WASTE?
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pairing: hoshina soshiro x f!reader
tags: DEAD DOVE, NONCON, noncon groping, choking, dacryphilia, hospitalization, injury, multiple/forced orgasm(s), power imbalance/dynamics, praise, psychological trauma, restraints
wc: 6.3k
a/n: title from butcher vanity. tagging this as dead dove bc it feels darker than the stuff i usually write? might also be bc the choking kinda squicked me out while i was writing this lol. anyways please read the tags and proceed with caution! ao3 link here.
summary: After a harrowing battle and a self-proclaimed failure of a first mission, you land yourself in the hospital. Your vice captain is adamant in playing a starring role in your rehabilitation.
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It’s taking everything to keep your breathing steady. Even though the van sits in a heavy silence, you can feel the emotions radiating from your fellow combatants. Through the nervous shifts, shaking legs, and meditative rituals.
Some are itching to get out on the field to show off how far they’ve come, others are doing their best to calm their nerves. 
You fall somewhere in the middle.
Training module after training module, you’re all too aware of where you fall – last. Dead last. And not by any close margin; the gap between you and the next combatant is astronomical. It’s a miracle you even made it into the force, much less the third division. 
You come into your first mission with something to prove: your competence. Delusions are better left untouched, and you don’t have any expectations of being an overachiever. You don’t need to be number one, nor do you need to set any records. It’s simple: don’t come in last. 
The van slowly comes to a halt as you make it to your destination.
“Third division, rollout!” 
A chorus of ‘yes sirs’ ring throughout the van before you’re deployed into combat. Your team quickly splits off into their assigned positions until you’re alone. The once booming cityscape hangs in an eerie silence. No conversations to eavesdrop in, no cars rushing to get to their next destination, no music from local businesses trying to attract more customers. Just the sound of the occasional gunshot in the distance.
You hear your first Kaiju before seeing it, the sound of cement and plaster crashing into the ground. Thankfully, it’s not as large as you thought it’d be. However, it is more grotesque than you expected — the smell of rotten fish invades your nostrils. It vaguely resembles an octopus, or at least that’s the best guess you can muster with its tentacles thrashing about. 
You steel yourself, the temperature of your suit steadily rising as you focus. You steady your hands, aiming to shoot the core in one shot. In the scope, the creature’s eye swiftly meets yours. You press the trigger, the recoil hitting you harder than you anticipated – the butt of your gun strikes you hard in your chest, you nearly trip over your feet from the impact. Shakily, you find your footing and look out into the distance, waiting for the dust and rubble to clear.
Shit.
Your aim was just slightly off, only hitting the tip of one of its appendages. The creature’s tentacles flail wildly, but with a precision to its movements –  reaching out to nearby structures to pull its body towards, making its way to you. Your fingers shake around the trigger as it approaches.
Deep breaths.
Your heart races as you aim through the scope again, but it’s hard to focus on a moving subject. You shoot again, a bit too hastily still. The bullet hits another one of its appendages, slowing it down for a moment before it starts erratically scurrying towards you again. Your suit starts to heat up a bit more, devouring you in its all enveloping warmth. Sweat pools at your temples, beads sliding down the side of your face as you aim again. Your finger floats carefully in front of the trigger, waiting for the right moment to strike. With each street pole, building, car, the creature takes into its grasp, the more dust and debris clouds your vision.
Your nerves only build on top of each other, an unsteady tower of blocks threatening to fall, heart racing, as the crashes get louder.
There’s a miraculous moment where the dust settles, your reflexes taking over and shooting it right in the core. It falls, crashing into the building next to it.
Your breaths are heavy as you look over to its corpse. A dead kaiju smells even worse than an alive one. How do the cleaners deal with this on a daily basis?
With a soft buzz, your earpiece comes alive with a message from HQ.
”Congrats on your first kill!”
“Thanks,” you answer, trying to hide the shakiness in your voice. That was too close for comfort.
”Are you still in condition to fight?”
”Yeah, should be.” 
”Alright, make your way to N-3, they could use the backup.”
”Roger that.”
Just as you turn around to make your way to the next battle, the hairs on your neck come to a sudden stand, as you sense an overwhelming aura behind you. Chills run down your spine despite the suit running you warm. Dread swells in your chest and lead fills your legs, planting your feet on the ground.
By the time you turn around, it’s too late.
Everything happens too fast. 
Something pierces into your shoulder.
Warm crimson seeps out of the wound, drenching part of your suit. You don’t even register the pain at first, dazed from the scent of copper filling your lungs.
When the searing burn of having your flesh punctured finally hits you, you do your best not to cry in pain because that’s not what a proper combatant does. They produce results. (You do not have any notable ones.) They neutralize kaiju. (You’ve only neutralized one by the skin of your teeth.) But another is right in front of you, a golden opportunity. You can turn the tides.
Intent on revenge, you swiftly change hands with your gun, firing another shot at the kaiju. You step back, shooting another two bullets, the heat in your suit shooting to unbearable temperatures. Then you’re on your feet, and the only thought in your head is run, run, run.
But you’re not fast enough. It lunges towards you, its tentacle stretching and grasping your arm tight, too tight, too much. An unfamiliar and sickening crack rings in your ears, and you can no longer hold back your screams. They’re short lived, not through mercy, but through the kaiju flinging you to the floor like a ragdoll. You’re sure you hear another bloodcurdling crack when your back crashes on to the cement. Air is choked out of your lungs as you try to steady yourself, but your arms are in no shape to lift yourself up. Blinding pain sears through your body, and you start to lose track of where your body ends and the suit begins, engulfed in an all-consuming heat.
Before you even have the chance to recover, the creature’s tendril wraps tightly against your neck, the tight pressure cutting off your ability to breathe. Your mouth drops agape, desperately attempting to suck in air only to let out repulsing coughs and gasps before you’re left with nothing, a fish out of water. How ironic. Willing to take the risk of shooting yourself as collateral, you aim your gun point blank at the appendage, just for it to be smacked out of your hand before you can pull the trigger.
Panic and adrenaline rushes through your body in droves, limbs desperately flailing about to release yourself. It only makes things worse, the grip around your neck tightening. It feels horrid. The way your face numbs, your lungs burning with the desperate need for oxygen. Everything gets just a bit lighter, your vision, your head, your body. The pressure in your head builds and builds, an over pumped balloon just waiting to pop. 
Everyone always says it’s a possibility, but no amount of training could have prepared you for death. Part of you wishes it could’ve happened a bit more heroically, but that’s foolish. At the very least, you can take solace in knowing nobody’s around to see you at your worst, in your final moments.
With a sudden puff of wind grazing your cheek, you drop to the floor, sputtering and gasping for air. You look up to see a miracle in the shape of your vice-captain bestowed upon you.
Soshiro Hoshina arrives in silence, utilizing his blades to take down the monster. You’re barely able to keep up with his movements – he bounces from place to place without delay. In a moment’s time he’s already slayed the creature that put you in such a miserable state. 
He takes a moment to flick his blades, kaiju blood and bodily fluids splattering on the floor in a neat line before he sheathes his swords.
“Can you stand?” Hoshina’s hand reaches out towards yours.
“I think so.” You balance yourself against his body, wincing as you sling your arm around his shoulder, taking it one step at a time. Your body still burns from your injuries and the overheating of your suit.
“I’m sorry.”
“You’ll do better next time.”
The guilt of inadequacy and inexperience come to a breaking point as tears well up in your eyes. You try to hold back your sniffles, but with how close your face is to his ears, you know he can hear them.
“Yes sir.”
Hospitals suck. Unfortunately, you’ll be stuck here for the next few weeks while you heal from your injuries. On the bright side, your squad has been very kind in dropping you ‘get better soon’ cards, small gifts, and catching you up on all the drama happening within the organization. You’re truly thankful for them. And while visits from your fellow peers are expected, visits from your superior officer aren’t.
Hoshina knocks on the doorframe in his civilian clothes, a black t-shirt with a pair of sweats. You can’t help but notice how the fabric of his shirt clings to his body, showing a sliver of his muscles. In his hand, he holds a bento box wrapped in a fabric cover. If you’re being honest, you’re blown away by his kindness. 
“How’re you feeling?”
“I’ve been better,” you joke, “the doctors here have been really nice though.”
Hoshina unwraps the fabric, and uncovers the box, revealing a portion of curry rice with a side of steamed vegetables. 
“You didn’t have to go out of your way for this sir.”
“I’m just looking out for my cute junior.” 
The unexpected descriptor sends heat to your face and butterflies to your stomach. Did you hear him right? You sit in silence, unsure of how to respond back.
Hoshina breaks the silence, taking the reins on the conversation. “Have you eaten anything yet?” 
“Not yet, haven’t had much of an appetite.”
He grabs a spoonful of the curry, bringing it right in front of your mouth.
“Here, open up.” 
“Is this really necessary?” “Just open up. That’s an order.” 
His words aren’t anything you haven’t heard before, but they have you squirming in the bed. 
You hesitantly separate your lips, as the spoon enters your mouth. Hoshina’s hand hovers under your mouth in case any crumbs fall. You swear his fingertips just ever so slightly graze against your chin. Then again, maybe not.
The curry’s a bit hot, you move it around your mouth as you blow out some air to cool it down. It has just enough kick, the pieces of vegetables melting in your mouth with little effort. Salty, savory, with a hint of sweetness. It’s delicious.
“How is it?” Hoshina asks.
Your mouth is still full of food as you rush to finish it in a gulp.
“It’s great.” 
“That’s good to hear.” 
“You’ve got some on your lip.” Hoshina licks the pad of his thumb before using it to wipe the excess off the corner of your mouth. The heat in your face ignites, burning unbearably with embarrassment. 
“Sir, you don’t have to do this.” 
“The doctors said you should rest your arms. I don’t want you straining yourself,” he responds, continuing to wipe the mess off your face.
You’re not sure how to argue with that, nor do you feel like picking a fight with the vice captain.
“Alright.”
You sit in awkward silence as your superior officer continues to feed you. It feels far too intimate for your relationship – you wonder if he does this with the others. He brings the spoon up to your mouth again, gesturing you to open. Before you know it, you’ve gotten used to it, complying as if it’s an order in combat. 
“How long are you out of commission?”
“A few weeks, fingers crossed I’ll be out sooner though!” you say in between bites.
“That eager to be back out, huh?”
“Yeah, I’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”
“Catching up? It’s only been a couple of days.”
“Well…” you hesitate. If you could, you’d be twiddling your thumbs. “I’ve been falling behind everyone else. I mean, I barely did anything before I landed myself in the hospital,” your voice nearly breaks, and you can feel tears forming, threatening to fall if you so much as blink. That all too familiar ugly ball forms and makes itself home in your throat. “Pretty pathetic, don’t you think?” you scoff, voice wavering. 
“Everyone gets injured at some point. Nobody’s immune to that. That includes all your peers and your superiors as well,” he states matter-of-factly.
“I guess so.” Tension gets tighter in your chest as you prepare for a lecture. 
“You come back faster from injuries when you’re younger too, so don’t worry too much about it. You did well.” 
The last thing you were expecting from Hoshina was praise. If anything you expected him to reprimand you more. Your heart beats a bit harder, a bit faster, and you hope Hoshina hasn’t noticed the climb in your heart rate on the medical monitor next to your bed.
It seems like it went unnoticed as he simply brings another spoonful to your mouth only for some of the curry to dribble down your chin.
“You’re a messy eater,” he teases.
“It isn’t intentional. It’s a bit hard to use my arms right now,” you joke back, head gesturing towards your arm sling.
“I’ll get it then.”
He licks the pad of his thumb again, wiping gently against your chin. He licks it again, this time brushing against the swell of your lips. You’re pretty sure there’s nothing there, but you remain silent. His finger scratches against the corner of your mouth, before tracing your lips again agonizingly slow, as if he’s committing every crevice to memory, his eyes half lidded with an expression you don’t recognize.
“Sir?”
“Yes?” His fingers pull away from your face, his head tilting to the side inquisitively, as if his actions a moment ago weren’t anything out of the ordinary.
“Never mind.”
The other day floats through your mind more than you’d like to admit. The warmth of your vice captain’s fingers as he caressed your lips, the way butterflies fluttered in your stomach as a response. 
He called you cute too, right? It probably doesn’t mean anything, you assume he’s like that with everyone. But it plays in your head on repeat like a broken record, and you have to think about kaiju guts to calm yourself down.
While you appreciate his penchant for lunchtime visits, you’re equally perplexed by it. There has to be more important things to do, especially as a high ranking official. Yet here he is again, preparing to feed you lunch by the spoonful as if he isn’t your superior officer with years of killing experience over you. 
“How’s the recovery going?”
“It’s going well. Things aren’t hurting as much anymore.”
“That’s good to hear.”
Hoshina unwraps the bento he’s brought in for you. It’s a bit more extravagant this time, soup, rice, and a variety of side dishes embellish the box.
Hoshina starts with the soup, lowering his spoon until it fills, before bringing it to his mouth. He blows on it with a gentleness that almost feels uncanny of a high ranking military officer.
“Careful, it’s hot.”
You open your mouth expectantly, obediently.
“Ah!” you yelp in surprise as the spoon of soup spills onto your chest, seeping into your gown.
“I got it.” Hoshina grabs a napkin and dabs it across your chest, but there’s something strange to his motions.
His fingers linger a bit too long after each press, as if he’s searching for something. It almost feels like they’re massaging into your skin, which feels excessive just to clean up a small mess. You’re all too aware of the heat surfacing to your face the longer he touches you. 
“Um sir, I think you got it.”
It’s as if he doesn’t hear you, intent on his mission of cleaning up his mess. His fingers dig deeper, kneading your tits over the thin fabric of the gown. Your breathing becomes more jagged the longer his touch lingers. You swear his finger grazes over your nipple, sending a rush down to your core.
“Sir,” you attempt to sound firm, only for your voice to come out in a shaky breath. 
He casually takes the napkin back and crumples it.
“No harm in being thorough,” he responds with an attempt at a reassuring smile.
You nod cautiously, questioning whether that really just happened.
“Yeah… Thorough,”  you quietly repeat to yourself.
It feels like months have passed, though it’s only been a handful of weeks. As time passed, visits from your peers have petered off, and all that’s left is the droning hum of the hospital equipment and your own thoughts. It’s the perfect storm to send anyone spiraling, to have you questioning whether you really deserve to have such a coveted spot in one of the most elite squads in the defense force.
So, you find yourself thinking about Hoshina. It happens more often than you’d like to admit. But it’s a natural progression, isn’t it? When he’s the only one who visits, who packs lunch for you every day. Sometimes you think he’s the only one who cares.
You don’t want to ruminate on it too long. But, you like him – or you think you like him. That’s why he has such an effect on you, right? The reason why your breath hitches, your heart skips a beat when his touch lingers a moment too long, even when his hands are in places where they shouldn’t be. A light bulb flickers on in your head.
Maybe he likes you back.
A knock on the door frame shakes you out of your thoughts, and you greet your regular visitor with a warm smile.
“How are you feeling today?” Hoshina asks, smiling back before taking a seat next to your bed.
“I’m doing great.” You rotate your arms before giving it a performative flex. “I think I’m just about ready to get back out there. The doctor even said I’ll be discharged in a couple of days.”
”That’s great news.”
Hoshina unveils the bento, even more spectacular than the last. There’s at least three tiers and you lose count at how many slots are in each tray. Each slot contains a side dish, many of them resembling fine art pieces rather than something to be consumed.
”Sir.” You pause, contemplating if you should reject his offer, “I can feed myself now.”
“You should take advantage of resting while you can.”
”Sir, it’s ok, seriously-”
”Are you talking back to your superior officer?” he interrupts with a seriousness to his tone you aren’t expecting.
You sit as straight as you can, caught off guard by his sternness.
”No sir.”
”Then open up,” he says with a smile, though it doesn’t reach his eyes. So you do, taking the offering cautiously, chewing thoroughly before swallowing. 
“You look like you have something on your mind,” Hoshina states.
You do, and he’s at the forefront of it – not that you would dare tell him. So you divert over to something normal, safe.
“How’s the squad doing?” you ask.
“That’s new.”
“What’s new?”
“You asking about others.”
Maybe the topic isn’t as safe as you thought it was.
“You calling me selfish?” you snap, a bit more accusatory than you expected. 
“You’re putting words in my mouth,” he says, arms raised by his head in an act of sarcastic surrender, “I said nothing of the sort.”
It’s your turn to say something, but it’s hard to get the words to leave your mouth.
“I haven’t seen a lot of them in a while,” you finally admit, “it’s been a bit lonely here.” 
“Of course, they’re being trained to the bone! Kaiju aren’t getting any weaker you know.”
What he says is true, but you don’t like that gnawing feeling of incompetence rising in your stomach. It’s been a bit rough for you these days, stuck in a never-ending cycle of bitter thoughts of your first battle, hyping yourself up to be better, and the inevitable ‘why bother trying?’ when you recall your hard work has earned you nothing thus far. Rinse and repeat. 
“I’m aware,” you say through gritted teeth, holding your tongue back as if it’s a dam keeping your self-deprecating thoughts at bay.
“You just gonna sit there and wallow in self-pity?” he asks, and his words hit you harder than you would like to admit.
“Self-loathing, actually,” you respond sarcastically.
“It makes no difference to me,” he sighs, placing his hands on the back of his head and leaning back into his chair, “but you want to get stronger, don’t you?”
“Yes. I do, sir.”
“Well I have just the opportunity for you!” Hoshina springs up from the chair with a clap, his sudden motion earning a flinch from you, “my schedule just opened up so I can train you.”
“I don’t want to waste any of your time, sir,” you reply softly, wishing you could just shrivel up in your bed. His offer feels unearned, the attention wasted on a poor performing combatant like yourself. You’re sure he has more promising things to do with his time.
“It’s not a waste of time to me,” he replies, “plus I get to spend more time with my cutest junior.”
There’s that special adjective again, the one that never fails to send heat rushing to your cheeks. It shouldn’t have you so visibly flustered, and you’re sure Hoshina notices your plight.
“A-are you sure?” you ask, nearly mumbling the words.
“As sure as this is goin’ in your mouth,” he says, picking up a piece of fried meat before bringing it towards you, “now open up.”
Once you’ve been dispatched from the hospital, it’s straight back into training. Nothing too intense, just enough to get you back into the swing of things is what the doctors said. Hoshina was ecstatic to look over your rehabilitation personally.
This has led you down an unfamiliar training room – cold, sterile, concrete walls resembling a brutalist dream. Something stands out like a sore thumb, an examination table towards the back of the room, and a medical monitor. Hoshina leads you towards the table, and gestures for you to sit down.
“We’re gonna start with some vitals.”
“Vitals?” you repeat, furrowing your brow. “What, am I in the hospital again?”
“No, not those vitals.” He waves his hand in front of his face as if to shake off the suggestion. “I want to see your unleashed power percentage. We’re going to try and test your endurance and get those numbers up. You were overheating pretty bad in that last battle, remember?”
It’s a sore memory you would rather forget.
“Yeah.”
“Then let’s try and get that number up,” he says while fiddling with the monitor, “you’ll need to strip.”
The last word sends a rush of heat to your face.
“Sir?” you ask, unsure if you heard him correctly.
“I have to attach these to get an accurate reading.” Hoshina smiles innocently and holds up a handful of wires and electrode pads connected to the medical monitor. So you did hear him correctly.
“Oh, right,” you reply with an uneasy chuckle, a rush of warmth to your face.  You take off your clothes, revealing your sports bra and underwear, feeling far too indecent in front of your superior officer. 
Carefully, you lie down on the examination table, the cold vinyl sending a chill throughout your body. Hoshina methodically presses the pads on various parts of your body, one on each arm, one on either side of your chest, two on your lower stomach, and one on each of your inner thighs. His touch lingers as always.
“Place your arms down.”
You obey, and feel the unfamiliar sensation of leather binding your wrists.
“Sir?” Panic rises in your voice as he tightens the restraints.
“Yes?”
“How long is this going to take?” you ask softly, attempting to hide your nerves.
“Shouldn’t be too long,” he answers, indifference in his voice, not acknowledging your very visible discomfort. His hand traces the leather around your hands before gently dragging down your forearm. 
“We’re going to get started now,” he says, his hand now tracing the inside of your thigh before stopping at your clothed slit, “you might feel some… discomfort.”
“S-sir?” Your breath hitches in your chest as you look down at his hand, the hand that wielded the blade that saved your life now looks foreign and distorted, mere millimeters away from your pussy. The hand that fed you warm meals and kept you company during your stay in the hospital, the hand of the captain you admired so much.
“You see that number on the screen?” Hoshina glances in the general direction of the monitor. It buzzes quietly, an ominous zero glowing in red on the screen. “It’ll show your percentage. Let’s get it to thirty today.”
Thirty? Dread swells in your chest, chills dancing on your skin when you do the mental math and realize that’s twice your personal record.
His finger twists around the edge of your underwear, pulling it down slowly, as if he’s savoring the view.
The number on the monitor goes up by one.
“See, this should take no time at all.”
Panic stirs and shakes violently in your chest like a carbonated drink on the verge of bursting as you come to the realization of what your vice captain has in store for you. 
Hoshina’s hand runs up and down your bare slit, sending a chill down your spine and a burst of heat to your face. 
“Don’t look so scared,” he says, his fingers rolling around your clit, “I’m no worse than a kaiju.”
You’re not sure that statement holds water.
His finger draws languid circles around your clit, a sensation that sends a warmth to your core, one you don’t want to indulge. Fear runs through you as you attempt to clench your legs shut, not wanting to give him any more than he’s already taken. 
“Keep these open for me, ok?” Hoshina teases, his hand pushing against your inner thigh to get a better opening. It’s not a fair fight. It was never going to be. His strength outmatches yours, plain and simple. With a carnivorous stare, he watches intently as he slowly pushes a finger inside of you, waiting for your reaction. You don’t want to give him one, but before you know it a high pitched moan escapes your lips as he makes it past the initial resistance of muscle.
Even in your state of undress, his eyes make you feel even more bare, staring hungrily at your figure, akin to a sculptor admiring a pristine slab of marble before the chisel and hammer makes the first chip.
“See? Nothing to be scared of,” he says, not that it does anything to quell the sick churn of terror and betrayal in your chest. In a moment’s time he finds that spot that has you writhing against your restraints, desperate to hide this side of yourself that shouldn’t be for his viewing pleasure. It’s just too much, the way his fingers press against that squishy patch, the way his other hand continues drawing lazy circles around your clit, sending jolts of ecstasy through your body you don’t want to indulge. It takes everything in you to hold back, not that tightening your muscles does anything to help. If anything, it just prepares you for the break to come. 
You knew Hoshina was talented, it’s all anyone ever talks about on base, but you didn’t think his talents would extend to something so lewd. His fingers knew just how to play with you, to keep you on the edge between anticipation and pleasure. 
Hoshina watches with a smile as you attempt to thrash your limbs and fail, only your back arching off the bed as you come undone. Tears prickle at your eyes as you gasp at the tension finally snapping, warm waves of pleasure washing over your core, spreading out to the rest of your body before fizzling out like seafoam.
When he takes his fingers away, you nearly mourn the absence of it. The way your cunt aches to be filled, the way the muscles flutter around nothing. You can barely make out the image of your vice captain in front of your eyes through your tears.
“Look, you’re doing great already,” he gestures to the monitor, glowing at a blurry six. How much more are you going to have to endure?
“Vice captain Hoshina,” you’re barely able to make out in between sniffles, “please let me go.”
“Why would I do that?” he asks, inspecting, admiring the mess you made on his fingers, “you’re making spectacular progress.”
It hits you then with absolute certainty. One, he has no intention of letting you go, and two, you’re going to reach thirty, one way or another. Before you’re able to lose yourself in your thoughts his finger grazes against your sensitive clit, bringing your attention back to him. 
“It wasn’t that bad, was it?” he mewls, fingers tracing your slick heat. You don’t want to admit to anything, don’t want him to stare at you so intensely. The way carmine eyes trace over your curves makes you feel small, a rabbit held up by the scruff of its neck, one bite away from being devoured.
He cuts you off before you can answer, his fingers making another entrance into your wet pussy. He starts building up that warm bubble in your stomach again, and you can’t bear to look at him. It’s embarrassing, lewd, the wet squelches your pussy makes for him, and it’s all out of your control. All you can do is lie there, take what he gives you. Like a good, obedient soldier.
He carefully inserts another finger and you wince at the intrusion. No matter how wet you are, the sensation is uncomfortable, fills you up far more than you’re used to.
“You’re taking it so well,” he croons, and you don’t want to admit the compliment goes straight to your core. After all, praise rarely makes it to your ears. His other hand grazes past your clit and you find your hips rutting into him, searching for the much needed stimulation. Hoshina is ecstatic to indulge you, drawing slow, loose circles around your bundle of nerves. He builds his pace again, fingers hitting deep into your g-spot, tighter shapes around your clit until the heat in your core builds, white hot.
“There, there, let it all out,” he coos, as if he knows you’re right on the edge, as if he knows your body better than you do, and your body submits against your wishes. That familiar warmth engulfs you again, washes over you until it fades as fast as it came. Everything aches –  you’ve never been so sore, muscles unable to relax with how the convulse around his fingers. You can barely register his fingers withdrawing, head too light and fuzzy from the aftermath.
You lie there, panting and drenched in sweat, reminiscent of those physical training modules you were so horrible at. You can only wish it was that.
“Keep that up and we’ll be done in no time.” Hoshina says, bringing you out from your post-bliss daze.
Hoshina hoists himself onto the table, lowering his pants and boxers just enough to show his cock. The sight of it sends a chill up your spine, has fear brewing a storm in your stomach. It’s just too big, there’s no way you’ll be able to take it.
But your superior officer is a man of incredible tenacity and talent. He’ll make it happen, whether you like it or not.
“No, no, no,” you instinctually attempt to bring your arms to your legs, only to be thwarted by the restraints, leather burning a rash into your skin the harder you resist.
He lifts your legs so they lay against his chest, the flushed tip of his cock now prodding against your entrance. The anticipation is worse, you think, your heart beating uncontrollably fast as you lie there, at the mercy of your vice captain. But maybe it isn’t. Hoshina pushes his cock into your cunt, pain piercing through your walls and he forcefully spreads them apart. He takes his time with it, savoring the changes in your expression with every inch pushed into you before letting out a harsh grunt once he’s fully bottomed out.
“Please, please, sir, too much-” You’re cut off by an involuntary noise from your own tongue, unfamiliar and salacious moans as he starts rutting into you harder.
“Show a little restraint, soldier,” he purrs into your ear.
It’s ironic, because you’re sure your he’s unable to hold any restraint as he fucks you, ruts into you like an animal in heat. His fingers press into your hips so hard you’re sure they’re going to leave bruises, and all you can do is accept his mark on you. It’s a side of your vice captain you’ve never seen before. You’re not sure if you recognize the man in front of you anymore.
“Sir, please, stop,” you beg, tears swelling in your eyes, a blink from falling.
“But you’re clenching around me so hard,” he replies, voice low and sultry, “bet you’re getting close.” 
His hand returns to your clit, pinching on it to coax a reaction out of you. And he gets exactly that – a yelp and your walls tighten around him and he groans. Cruel as he is, he draws languid strokes on your clit, and warmth bubbles in your core. His rough thrusts become more bearable, almost pleasurable, with the added stimulation. 
“Soshiro-“ you moan, his name slipping out of your mouth before you can catch it. It’s too late to take it back, a sly smile forming on Hoshina’s face as soon as it hits his ear. 
“Referring to a superior officer without their title?” he asks breathlessly, voice laced with poison.
“No, no, I’m sorry sir, it was an accident,” you plead, beg, hoping the desperation in your voice is enough to placate him. 
“Perhaps I’ve been too easy on you.” Hoshina’s hands wrap around your neck. “I commend your dedication to your training.”
There’s no room for the pressure to ease in. It hits you all at once. 
Adrenaline whirls and rushes right back into you, and your mind bloats with thoughts of running. But you can’t. Your state is close to that of a rabid animal, aggressively struggling against your cuffs, gritted teeth and all. The reflex to scratch at your neck, placated by the damn restraints. It only gets worse the more you struggle, your wrists rubbed raw from the leather. 
When his eyes glimmer at your pained expression, you realize Hoshina sees what that Kaiju saw in you. Weak. A plaything. Something to toy with and toss to the side once they’ve gotten their fill. 
“You can do it. I know you can do it,” he eggs you on with a smirk on his face. As if you’re an athlete and he’s your oh so encouraging coach. 
If the situation were any different, maybe you would be able to take solace in his words. But all you can feel is tension building in your stomach with each thrust, a sensation you don’t want to entertain. As it builds, guilt roars and churns like a storm in your stomach. 
It shouldn’t feel this good. It shouldn’t feel this good when the circulation to your head is cut off. When everything becomes numb except for the heat in your pussy. The longer he chokes you, the less your brain can stand to function and you’re just one step closer to indulging. 
Maybe you really are weak. 
”Is this what it felt like? Tell me if I’m getting it right,” he teases, his hands wrapping around your neck tighter, blood rushing to your head in a dizzying whirl. He thrusts into your pussy harder, striking a spot that only adds to your daze. 
You can’t bring yourself to look at him—not that you’re able to—tears blurring your vision until everything blends into each other.
“Cryin’ just for me? Can I ask for a bit more?” he asks, but you both know that you are in no place to refuse.
All you can let out are sad sputters and coughs, a sad attempt at a “no” that doesn’t reach his ears. 
Even through your tears, you can see the number on the monitor climb to the highest it’s ever been. Something resembling a choked laugh escapes your lips. Was it delusional? To think you had a seed of potential deep inside you, that your superior officer was willing to nurture it out of you?
Your train of thought is ripped from you, tension reaching a breaking point and you cum with choked moans and desperate gasps for air. Your body tenses, your walls clamping around his cock, gripping onto him like a vice.
Hoshina’s pace starts to slacken, his grip tightening harder around you until he slams one last deep thrust into you. Hot ropes of his seed shoot inside you, and you wince at the warmth.
Once his hands finally let go, it’s all wet coughs and desperate deep inhales. Once you have enough air, soft cries, much like the ones you let out on his shoulder just a few weeks prior, but now on a sterile table. 
The monitor hums quietly, a red thirty-two burned onto the screen.
“You’ll catch up in no time.”
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yeyinde · 21 days
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i apologize if you’ve already answered this question before somewhere - but would you ever consider writing something with an explicitly male reader? i’ve been an avid reader of yours since mw2022 came out and after having read most of your works, i can’t say i’m not curious as to how it might change the dynamic
it would change the dynamic a little bit. more so because i think there's more options to explore with a male mc in an m/m relationship. especially with the 141. these are all super rough ideas i dreamed up at lunch lmao so an actual fic might change a lot of them but:
Simon is basically the same but more physical. aggressive but in a condescending way. always seems like he's goading you into a fight (and he is, but that's just so he can throw you to the ground and rest his weight on you until you beg him to get up). but i don't think he interprets gender. it's mostly just people who he can be rough with and those that he can't. the f!mcs i write fall into this weird middle ground of he can't, but he wants to. he has to be softer but he wants to ruin them. i'd probably do the opposite with a m!mc - should be softer, but can't. if only because mean Simon bullying the guy he's down bad for would be so fun to write. it'd be more animalistic because the m!mc wouldn't have an issue with fighting back against his ugly form of love.
you'd meet him in a bar. he's the scary guy in the back who says nothing to you at all but every time you look at him, he's already staring back at you. picking a fight, you'd think. and it'd cow you a little. as much as you can hold your own, as often as you get into tiffs, he's a tank. his size makes your belly twist. makes all those ugly feelings in the back of your head well up, the ones you tried to bury behind a too-bright grin and forged masculinity that fits like clunky armour. you feel sick looking at him. jealous. envy. greed. a noxious cocktail roiling around the generous sips of flat beer. so you don't. you look away. but the glares you send over your shoulder only make him huff, his head angling down toward his chest in a way that oozes a droll, acidic sort of amusement. stay away.
and you do. but he catches you at the mouth of the alley when you try to make your escape for the night, shoving your face into the brick as he grunts into your crown about fuckin' teasin' him all night. don't worry, though. he's gonna give you exactly what you've been craving, pretty boy. just be good for him, yeah?
Price is crass. rougher. but like Simon, gender, sex, and identity are all narrowed down to two categories for him: those that need his help, and those that don't (and then beneath that: those that deserve it and those that don't). if you're in control of your own life, competent, he'll force you into the former. bully you until something breaks. he's a bit more reserved with his advances but only because knocking you up isn't really an option. so, he has to be smart. cunning. it's a waiting game with Price, really.
with Gaz, there's almost a sense of a rivalry in the relationship. he definitely understands his attraction to you, knows what he wants, but he likes to push the people he's interested in and a m!mc would let him test the limits a bit more. he likes to mould the people he likes around him. re-build their entire life until it's tangled up in his. a m!mc would be a harder catch. like Price, it's not like he can just knock you up and keep you forever. he needs to strategise a bit more and i think that would make him more desperate.
Soap is basically the same. rougher, though. crude, too. has a thing for forced feminization. would call you hen and bonnie even as he manhandles you on the bed and rides you until you pass out. he's softer when he pursues a f!mc because he knows he can't play his hand right away or they'll run, but with a m!mc, he's all teeth. always grinning wide but like a shark. a touch scarier as he slides his hand up your thigh and coos in your ear about how badly he wants to fuck you stupid. but he won't let you cum. no, no - you're only allowed to cum inside him so you better not get off when he's fucking you or he'll have to show you some self-restraint. bites a lot. everywhere. always has a bottle of lube stashed away somewhere. it's intense. wrings you dry.
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First Date
Requested: No
Warnings: None that I can think of
Ghost - Dinner
Ghost is very much a man who enjoys the simpler things like a nice hot meal. So of course a first date with him would be that exact thing. I’d say that he doesn’t like fancy restaurants but also that he wouldn’t be comfortable bringing you home for a first date. He’d meet somewhere in the middle with a middling reasutaunt. Not something as casual as IHop but not fancy fancy. He’ll dress nice but not too nice. A good pair of jeans, a clean t-shirt, though he only owns the one pair of muddied and scruffed up military boots.
He’s so nervous throughout it too, but it comes off as him anti-social or uninterested in you. Speaking only in quiet grunts and keeping his eyes away from you. If you’re the more sensitive type then your feelings are bound to get a bit hurt, but he’ll try to show you just how much he enjoyed your company afterwards. Brushing his fingers against yours as you both head out, quietly mumbling, asking you “same time next week?” with a little blush at the tips of his ears.
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Soap - Movie
Soap immediately goes for the very sweet and simple approach of asking you on a date to the movies. He’d prefer an indoor theater but he’s definitely not opposed to a drive in. If you let him pick the movie then he’ll go for something cute, probably a cartoon or something. He seems like he’d like ones like Puss in Boots and Luca. But if you’d like to pick then he’s down to watch almost everything, though he draws the line at war movies. A war documentary might be fine. He dresses completely casual, prioritizing his own comfort over looking nice. Old jeans, old shirt, old boots. Completely honest to who he is, letting you get to know him.
He’s not too nervous throughout the whole time. Maybe a hint of it here and there when you get too quiet or you glance at him between scenes in the movie, your eyes catching his quietly before looking away. He might be a bit bold in asking to hold your hand on the way out, talking to you about your favorite parts of the movie or your favorite characters, his thumb rubbing circles on the back of your hand the whole time he listens to your voice.
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Alejandro - Home Date
A first date with Alejandro will be at a home, either his or yours, doesn’t matter to him. He’d prefer his place just because he plans on cooking for you, and even buys ice cream as a dessert. Between dinner and sweets he’ll set up games for you both to play while getting to know each other better by asking small and simple questions. It’s cozy and he doesn’t even mind if you start accidentally falling asleep, just setting you up in the guest room with a warm and cozy blanket, waking you up the next morning with the smell of a delicious breakfast.
He’s less shy than some of the others, and probably has already existed whether or not he’d like to keep pursuing you. He’ll probably suggest lunch next, that same day of course! You’re already staying for breakfast, what’s one more meal? But of course, now you’ve stayed over half the day with him, why not just have dinner with him again? It’s a vicious cycle, one that will be almost impossible to break, especially when he starts to sweet talk you, already pressing hot and heavy kisses to your cheeks and throat, holding you close between him and a wall when you tell him you have to leave. Come on, just stay five more minutes? You won’t regret it!
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König - Picnic
A picnic in a nice open field is the perfect first date for König. No crowds to overwhelm him and he’s not expected to be paying too much attention to anything but you and the food. He’ll dress nicely for the occasion, a nice shirt and boots but his jeans will be a bit old and worn because he didn’t want to ruin a nice pair since you’d both be sitting on the ground, granted with a nice blanket under you and the food that he packed. He’d probably focused more on the main course over the snack parts, things like sandwiches and side dishes. Maybe a bag of crisps he thought you might like.
Afterwards he’ll be so shy, asking you if you’d like to go on a second date while he holds the blanket and basket close to his chest as he waits for your answer, his face completely red when you agree, a small and cute smile stretching his cheeks for the rest of the week, accompanied by a dreamy look in his eyes.
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pippin-katz · 8 days
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Random Satisfying & Clever Moments Of Audio From Dead Boy Detectives - Part 4
There's a few moments in DBD that utilize audio really well, or use sounds that always stick out to me while watching, and these are some of those moments!
This one is a bit of longer one, and might not make sense to everyone, but I'll do my best to explain it below!
Ep. 4 - The Case of the Lighthouse Leapers: The lack of music when Charles gets up after the trauma nightmare, then the addition of just The Wellerman song as he advances on the Night Nurse.
Using sound is very important, but so is the lack of sound. The lack of music or sound effects as Charles starts winding up the music sphere creates tension. After the overwhelming amount of stimuli in his trauma nightmare, the quiet is unsettling. It is the calm before the storm; that moment when everything is too still, too quiet, and you have a gut feeling that something is wrong.
Watching Charles wind the music sphere, speaking with such conviction, yet also composure, after everything she just put him through, it's unnerving. An explosion of blind rage would be expected, not the calculated way he twists the handle, walking and talking with full clarity and awareness of the situation.
The music sphere being wound up also coincides with Charles' emotions. The Night Nurse practically did exactly that to him by forcing him through all of that pain. Charles even acknowledges that she accomplished her goal: to make him crushed and devastated. But she didn't take into account his resilience, his strength; someone else would be helpless and sobbing on the ground after what she showed him, but Charles?
He knows how it felt. He was fucking there. He knows how much it hurt. He knows how unjust and unfair his life and death were. For the Night Nurse to play it for him like a slideshow presentation, as if he needs to be taught, pisses him the fuck off. Charles is furious that this woman has the audacity to walk into his nightmares and lecture him, as if she has any comprehension or understanding of what it was like to experience it.
I think it's part of why he mentions the memories specifically when he's about to kick her: "Those memories are not why I choose to stay here!"
Charles is fully aware of what he went through, and he's moved on, or is trying to at the very least. He does not want all the horrible things that happened to him while he was alive control and influence every decision he makes. He's not that sixteen-year-old boy trembling in a corner anymore; he does not have to bend in the face of danger and injustice. He can stand up for himself, for others, and he will because he wants to. It's not to make up for some "failure" from his life. It's who Charles wants to be.
SO! Back to the audio specifically, the use of The Wellerman song is obviously fitting since the sphere was used by sailors to "calm the seas", but also because there is something inherently haunting about that tune. It's right after he says that he's angry that he pulls the pin out; after trying so hard to hold back all his anger and pain, Charles is ready to let it loose.
The beats of the scene then follow the music. From the moment the song starts to the end of the first verse, the first "segment" of the fight happens. Charles speaks, she tries to reply, he hits her, and she reacts in that timespan. There are very faint bass notes underneath the song after he's hit her. They get louder as the song progresses, reintroducing the score of the show.
When Charles takes a second swing, it's at the start of the chorus of the song.
(The difference between verse and chorus is the starting note. Verses start low and get higher; choruses start high and stay high until the very end.)
During that chorus, Charles swings and hits her; he very nearly lines up his swings with the notes, but not quite. Then he speaks once she's backed against the wall. He lets go of the music sphere in the middle of the chorus, and completes his lines up to: "I still have a purpose!" as it ends. That's the second "segment" of the fight.
The second verse starts with him making his declaration and kicking her, and it plays out as the Night Nurse falls. The second half of the verse swells into a full score version of the song instead of just the sound of it coming from the sphere. It's the third and final "segment". Charles ends the confrontation, and once Angie disappears, the song fades out.
This sequence is such a good example of knowing when to cut the music, and how to gradually reintroduce it. It enhances the uneasiness you're meant to feel while watching Charles' anger slowly escalate. It's part of what makes the whole scene so effective.
part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4
(ko-fi)
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