#I need to stop looking at the art I hate each time i look again

[gemini-queen42]

Mini Batb: OTH lore dump + doodle :]

So, in Other Than Human Lumiere is both the maitre d' & Princess Eve's ballet teacher- [In-depth explanation/story bit under the cut]. Maestro Forte gets involved via playing the music to be danced to when he can (sometimes there's other people, other instruments- the ballet practices kind of evolved/ get worked out to be these mutually Beneficial practice times)(kinda cool) But Forte is the one who gets most involved with it, and That is the beginning of Lumiere & Forte's.. very strained (questionably) amicable... acquaintanceship...

[I know, I know- Forte's expression isn't giving what it's supposed to... this kind of overall isn't giving what I wanted it to but I'm not. fixing it today so. sorry lads hgjdgk]

[I vaguely refferenced an art piece of ballet dancers from the rococco era for Lumiere's fit and.. mmm . hmm. hrm.]

the way Lumiere became Eve's ballet teacher went something along the lines of this:

little Eve has suddenly become Very Insistent that she MUST learn Ballet ASAP. In fact, she demands she must start lessons Tomorrow at the Latest. Thing is, they don't exactly have a qualified ballet teacher just.. on hand. The princess has expected lessons in ballroom dancing and whatnot but Ballet isn't exactly among that repertoire. And the hiring process is a very thorough one, which especially cannot be properly completed by tomorrow morning starting on short notice this very afternoon (This is the staffing of a Castle, after all- and Cogsworth is a man very dedicated to his job).

Eve doesn't take no, Cogsworth doesn't sacrifice quality- there's a bit of a stalemate. luckily Eve has never learned to be subtle about anything in her entire life and is very, very loud with her displeasure. Usually that's not a postive, but here it's what allows Lumiere to take notice and inquire on what's got their petite Evie so worked up today- and thus learn of the situation.

L: "Well- I could teach her."

C: "...you know ballet?"

L: "Well, I'd sure hope so- I spent my teen years as a professional ballerina."

C: "And what of your duties as Maitre d'?"

L: "Ah, mon ami- you worry too much~ It's only temporary, non? For until you find an actual teacher to hire" (Implied: or until Eve loses interest)

The plan was that Lumiere would serve as Eve's dance teacher temporarily as a perfect solution to satisfy the princess while giving Cogsworth time to be his meticulous self with finding someone who could do it full time- (should this be more than a passing whim of the girls') Of course, that's not how it goes- Time passes, more pressing matters occur for the majordomo, Lumiere has little troubles operating all her duties, Eve & Lumiere work out a good system for them- yippee!

Now lets talk about Forte's Role in all of this:

Forte is our favorite internal Bad Influence. Somewhere on here I've discussed before how a lot of Eve's views were shaped by forces & people that are outside our main servant cast. Forte would be one of those forces and likely the Most consistent.

Forte is the type of guy who thinks "I am more skilled than you, and thus I am Above you." He desires power, and renown, and respect, and not to deal or do things he considers beneath him.

Perhaps the only reason he so easily complies with the whole ballet situation is because the songs are classic, respected things. And often times, he can play what he desires instead- times more focused on the art of creating & matching choreography to the music. That, and it's for the princess.

He is, in a sense, a perfectionist in nature- at the very least, he is one when it comes to criticizing others.

Eve included- although he frames it as something friendlier, as "advice". And Forte's opinions are very much- All the things that feed into all the toxic ideals, behaviors, & issues that ballet has a history of! The pursuit of perfection, perfection down to the bones, perfection that Breaks people.

All the ideas that Lumiere is being SO CAREFUL to keep Eve from falling into- because she's seen what that's done to people. and the princess, with all her flaws, has become like a little sister to her- and even if she wasn't, Still!- but the slope is a subtle one in its beginning seeds, hard to detect if you're unfamiliar- and so Lumiere can't do much to call Forte out on it. Because nothing he says is Blatant enough to do so.

So Lumiere just has to try and counteract it, and hope that either Eve takes her word over Fortes- or Lumiere will notice if things go south.

Except- well, Lumiere is also the maitre d', so she can get busy- and, well, she doesn't really need to be there if Eve is Just Practicing- and.. well, often Forte is there as well, without Lumiere there to respond- and..... Eve can be surprisingly sneaky for certain things.

It is a battle lost and proven to be when the Enchantress makes her entrance, and Eve can hide nothing as The Beast.

There is an undercurrent of guilt, in Eve's mind when she'd blatantly disregard Lumiere's words.

There is an inescapable guilt, in Lumiere's mind when she's realized how she's failed the girl.

[This post feels messy overall so if there's any bits that are hard to read/you don't understand let me know & I'll try to explain/fix them<33]

[purple-st4rz-556]

I keep forgetting to be active here whoops....anyways it's Gorillaz Phase 1 OMG!!!!

OMFG I JSUT RELIZED THAT I DREW THE THUMB FACIND THE WROGN DIRECTION 💀💀💀

[stevens-pastrami-sandwich]

"shoutout to e for being patient zero" no probs matt! any day pal! 😁😁 (help me can somebody hear me please hel

crying screaming throwing up

[salemlunaa]

SURE TIME IS A CONCEPT, BUT THE CLOCK IS TICKING ◔

what more do some of you want?…

A lot of you need to fix up. stop doomscrolling and complaining and actually apply knowledge.

Do you wanna know how to be like those people who enter the void/ induce pure consciousness with ease after struggling, some of them not even struggling at all? All those success stories that you idolise, screenshot, like, reblog and envy all have one thing in common:

They wanted it. Bad. You need to want it

Those people saw all this shit that they didn’t deserve happen to them, they saw how other people were born with the lives they want, and they decided enough was enough. They weren’t taking shit from the world anymore, they were tired of living lives that they dread, tired of looking at people’s lives with envy, tired of the way life was going for them and how the world treated them unprovoked. They were tired of dreading waking up another day in their shitty realities. Tired of hating themselves in the morning because of another unproductive night. They were TIRED and you need to be too, that fuelled their want for their new lives and got them where they are now.

I’m not saying you can’t be in my asks or you can’t be in my dms. But at what point is it enough? at what point does it become pathetic? You go in these bloggers asks and dms and question them on shit that 1: has been said multiple times or 2: is common sense. But fine, keep playing dumb, keep indulging in the assumption that it “just doesn’t work for you” keep pretending that your just this innocent little baby who “doesn’t understand why it’s not working🥺” 🙄anyway…. You can sit here in this community for as many years as you like while people get what they want.

And although time is a malleable concept that can be manipulated, the clock is ticking, it’s almost 2025 and some of you are right where you started. I need to ask you to sit with your self, look at 2025,2026,2027 heck even 2028, do you see yourself still here? be honest, do you genuinely see yourself with your dream life? if not you need to change your mindset, and stop asking how, you know how!!

Locking in and changing your mindset isn’t this big character development that lasts weeks, it can take seconds. So you could’ve had everything yesterday, 15 minutes ago, an hour ago, even a fucking minute ago, but you’re still here choosing to scroll and act stupid, inhaling new information each day like you were born yesterday. YOU KNOW WHAT YOU NEED TO DO!!! Are you not tired of the same routine, you get motivated from some posts, you get this high, this amazing feeling like you’re so ready to do it, then you procrastinate and if you do manage to try you “fail” and run back to tumblr for the 100th time. Are you not tired of the same shit?

Again, do yall wanna make it to 2025,2026,2027, even 2028 without all the shit you want? At what point does it become enough information and enough questions asked? I know it feels validating and comforting to complain about your circumstances knowing others can relate, but at what point do you stop aligning with the loser who “can’t do it”? Stop acting like you actually give a shit when you say you’re going to apply and then you come back whining. Start acting like you actually want it.

You’re the only one who can change your life, if you want to still complain sure go ahead. Keep the tumblr “for you page” some company while everyone else is actually applying and getting their dream lives. A lot of you don’t want to hear it but with the way you’re wavering you’re probably going to be here for a few more years.

That doesn’t mean you cant change that, i’m not the one who writes your story, it’s you, again, it’s not hard work to change. Like the art of inducing pure consciousness, nothing is hard, nothing needs effort, so you can change your mindset within the snap of a finger and be good to go. But wavering brings you right back to square one.

the clock is ticking and you are STILL here…. LOCK TF IN!!!

SOME OF YOU HAVEN’T MADE ANY SIGNIFICANT PROGRESS, THAT CHANGES NOW!! ⏳💋

[tinyfantasminha]

OC introduction

[Thank you @haryuwu, @stestylius-arts and @ai-kan1 for the templates they look so clean and organized and I love them 😋]

Personality:

At first glance, Vic comes across as reserved and ordinary, maintaining cordial relationships without actively seeking friendships. However, once she grows close to someone, her brighter, more playful side shines through—she’s witty, bantering, and a bit tomboyish. She dislikes feeling restricted and tends to rebel against rules she finds unfair or unreasonable. While she firmly denies being a "mom friend," (she repulses the thought even) her actions often tell a different story. She’s fiercely loyal, quietly looking out for her friends and always stepping in to support them when they’re in need, even if she doesn’t admit it outright.

Though Vic sometimes comes across as naive or a bit of an airhead, it’s often by design—she purposefully plays the fool, keeping others guessing about her true thoughts and intentions. Why does she do this? Well… whatever the reason, there’s more to her than meets the eye.

Backstory:

Vic was once a naive, pure-hearted child, eager to please and willing to follow anyone’s whims. That all changed after a traumatic incident during a school trip to the woods. A classmate told her, “Wait right here and don’t move. I’ll be right back.” Obediently, she stayed put, unnoticed by her teachers or classmates. Hours passed as she waited, terrified and alone, until she was finally found by school staff after her mother reported her missing. This event left a deep scar on Vic, and the phrase “I’ll be right back” still triggers a wave of unease in her. Afterward, her submissive tendencies only worsened. She believed that by doing everything people asked, she’d be liked and accepted, avoiding the risk of being abandoned or badmouthed. Throughout middle school, this behavior made her an easy target for manipulation and psychological abuse. By her final years of high school, something within her snapped. The years of mistreatment awakened a rebellious, sharp-edged side. Vic stopped letting people walk all over her, becoming grumpier, colder, and more distrustful. She built a fortress around her true emotions, frequently lying or feigning indifference to protect herself. Though she hated the version of herself her pain had created, she learned to survive in her own way.

After graduating, Vic celebrated the end of that painful chapter in her life and vowed to reinvent herself. But just three days later, her plans were upended when she was hit by a mysterious carriage.

After the events of the prologue and her enrollment at NRC alongside Grim, Vic was struck by the mortifying realization that she’d have to relive high school all over again. Adding insult to injury, she remembered that, at the time she was hit by the mysterious carriage, she had been on her way to celebrate her graduation with an açaí smoothie—a treat she never got to enjoy. To this day, she can’t help but lament the smoothie that never was.

Notable relationships:

Jack Howl 🐺

At first, Vic was intimidated by Jack, fearing he’d be as condescending and judgmental as her classmates from middle school. However, once she got to know him, his caring and loyal nature quickly won her trust. Because of her magicless status and petite stature, Jack’s protective instincts naturally kick in around her. He often escorts her across campus, which leads to them spending more time together and growing closer.

Vic admires Jack’s honesty and strong sense of justice—qualities she found rare during her school days. His loyalty and protective behavior deeply touch her, even when he tries to hide it behind his tsundere demeanor (which she secretly finds adorable). Around Jack, Vic feels safe in a way she hasn’t before.

As their bond deepens, they begin to pine for each other, turning what should be simple interactions into painfully awkward moments. Jack’s straightforward and genuine nature makes Vic’s carefully constructed mask of aloofness crumble in his presence, leaving her vulnerable and overwhelmed by her emotions. Her feelings for him force her to confront her fears and insecurities, often leaving her shaken.

"If only there was someone like you by my side back then… maybe I wouldn’t have…!”

Leona Kingscholar 🦁

Initially, Vic and Leona barely interacted. He seemed indifferent to her presence and quietly appreciated that she didn’t nag him or try to change his lazy ways. However, her frequent visits to Savanaclaw piqued his curiosity, and he couldn’t help but wonder if she was some kind of thrill-seeker. Her seemingly fragile, harmless appearance contrasted sharply with the boldness it took to linger in a dorm full of beastmen, leading him to nickname her “little mouse.”

Vic usually treats Leona with sweetness, but he sees right through her doe-eyed facade. Her true motives remain a mystery to him, and that intrigue makes him determined to unravel her secrets. To that end, Leona enjoys teasing and flustering her, just to watch her carefully constructed mask crack.

Leona is also keenly aware of Vic and Jack’s feelings for each other, which he finds highly entertaining. He takes great pleasure in cockblocking taunting them about it, using his sharp wit to nudge them closer to confronting their emotions. His teasing is particularly merciless with Jack, often warning him with sly remarks like, “You’d better keep a close eye on your prey, or she might just wander into the lion’s den.” What exactly does he mean by that? Who knows…

Ace Trappola ❤️ and Deuce Spade ♠️:

Vic’s first friends at NRC, Ace and Deuce quickly became two of her closest companions. The trio spends much of their time hanging out and bantering, creating a dynamic full of playful teasing. Her provocations often escalate with Ace, leading to occasional spats, though they’re always quick to reconcile.

With Deuce, Vic adopts a softer, almost sisterly demeanor, though she doesn’t hold back from teasing him—just not as intensely as she does with Ace. Around them, Vic maintains her cool, tomboyish exterior but will sometimes show emotional vulnerability when she needs comfort or support. Ace, however, never misses a chance to mercilessly tease her about her crush on Jack, much to her frustration (and embarrassment).

Idia Shroud💀:

Vic and Idia became friends through the Board Game Club, bonding over their shared interests and similarities. During club activities, they often team up to gently? bully and bicker with Azul, much to their mutual amusement. While Vic enjoys their camaraderie, their interactions mostly happen through DMs, as Idia’s shut-in nature makes face-to-face meetings rare—despite her frequent insistence that they hang out more in person.

Idia has developed a crush on her, which makes him even more hesitant to meet up outside of the club. He’s painfully aware (and secretly salty) about her preference for the athletic types in Savanaclaw, which makes his hopes—if he had any—practically nonexistent. For now, he keeps his feelings to himself, hoping to drown them. Vic, ever the supportive friend, often encourages him and occasionally flirts or gets touchy to tease him, delighting in his flustered reactions. Is she aware of his feelings? Who can say...

Azul Ashengrotto 🐙:

Vic initially had a strong dislike for Azul, finding his sweet-talking, calculating nature, and tendency to demand repayment for even the smallest favors uncomfortably reminiscent of her old classmates. She was openly hostile toward him, often meeting his charm with sharp-tongued, vulgar retorts. Yet, Azul remained undeterred.

Over time, as they spent more moments together in the Board Game Club, their constant bickering and competitive banter began to grow on her, almost without her noticing. She realized Azul was more "relaxed" during club activities, which made him easier to talk to. Vic now views him as a sort of rival, someone who challenges her wit and strategies, though neither likes to show vulnerability or weakness around the other.

If asked whether they’re friends, Vic will promptly deny it with a firm “no,” while Azul confidently responds with a smug “yes.” Despite their clashing personalities and opposing morals, they quietly look out for each other in their own way—remembering birthdays, exchanging souvenirs, and occasionally offering subtle gestures of support. Deep down, Vic knows Azul is an important friend, but she’d rather swallow a rock than admit it. Tsuntsun

Jamil Viper 🐍:

Vic harbors a superficial, puppy-like crush on Jamil, idolizing him and finding everything he does impossibly cool or impressive. Jamil, however, doesn’t seem to return her affections—or trust her, for that matter. He usually cuts her off with polite but firm indifference, which only seems to intensify her fascination, much to his exasperation. To Jamil’s dismay, Vic sighs dreamily whenever he’s cold or sharp-tongued with her (masochist much??) but gets utterly confused and flustered when he shows any hint of worry or care for her.

While Jamil would never admit it, he doesn’t entirely dislike her attention. Her admiration strokes his ego, and perhaps—just perhaps—he’s considering how he might use it to his advantage... t this doesn't seem very healthy...

Rook Hunt 🏹:

Like most people, Vic initially felt uneasy around Rook’s overly flamboyant and romantic demeanor. She couldn’t understand his fascination with her or his flowery praise, often responding to his compliments with pragmatic retorts or modest deflections. However, as time passed and she recognized the sincerity behind his words of encouragement, her wariness faded, and she began to trust him more.

Knowing it’s nearly impossible to keep secrets from Rook, Vic sometimes reluctantly vents her frustrations and insecurities to him. In turn, he offers thoughtful advice and unwavering emotional support. He nicknames her “Mademoiselle Fantôme” (ghost) and seems to see right through her composed exterior.

Like Leona, he’s aware there’s more to her than meets the eye and enjoys analyzing her hidden depths. Rook takes particular delight in evoking various reactions from Vic, describing her as a “kitten with hidden claws,” always intrigued by her blend of aloofness and fire.

Trivia:

While Vic appears tomboyish and sisterly with the first years, Jack is the exception. Around him, she’s notably sweeter and more bashful.

The more nervous or flustered she becomes, the higher-pitched (and more pathetic) her voice gets.

Vic used to be close with her older sister, a prosecutor. Her strong sense of justice and argumentative nature were heavily influenced by her sibling.

When heated, Vic becomes highly argumentative, delivering well-constructed, logical points to dismantle her opponent’s stance—a rare display of bold confidence.

Her dream is to become a detective/investigator.

Vic doesn’t get angry often, but when she does, it’s described as a “cold, merciless ire with sharp words that could make a grown man cry” (Ace’s words).

Though she’s a bit of a coward and dislikes confrontation, her quick thinking and improvisation often help her slip out of sticky situations. (Both Leona and Rook take notes on her sharp survival instinct.)

Despite her unassuming appearance, Vic has surprising leg strength and flexibility from self-defense classes she took as a child. She claims she’s rusty and fell out of practice for the most part, but her kicks prove otherwise.

Her birthday (February 4) is the same as Cater’s, so their celebrations are often combined in Heartslabyul. Cater affectionately calls her his “twinsie” and refers to her as “cute lil sis.”

Floyd nicknames her “Axolotl” and teases her relentlessly about her height. He especially enjoys being overly touchy with her in Jack’s presence.

Vic occasionally treats herself to Mostro Lounge visits to gossip with Jade, often about Azul’s defeats in the board game club. Jade uses this intel to tease and blackmail Azul later.

The Light Music Club adores pampering her and repeatedly begs her to join as a singer, but she always flusteredly declines.

Like Ace, Vic can be mischievous and a bit greedy. She shamelessly accepts Kalim’s generous offers of money (though she hopes Jack doesn’t find out...)

Vil intimidates her to no end with his sharp gaze, but she secretly admires him and dreams of having him give her a makeover someday. Rook frequently (and gleefully) tries to push her to approach Vil, much to her horror.

Malleus believes they are closer friends than they actually are, often due to misinterpreting her words and actions. Vic, too kind or maybe scared to correct him, finds herself roped into his gargoyle monologues during their awkward little outings.

[shewrites444]

one time thing [ art donaldson x patrick's sister! reader smut ]

wc - 5.4k

[ summary - patrick and tashi have been together for a few months now, and art's been a bit jealous. he's in need of a distraction, and given that you're getting over a recent breakup while also preparing to transfer to stanford, you do, too. only issue is how patrick is your older brother, but it's not like that's stopped you and art before. ]

[ warnings - brother's best friend trope, little bit of fluff, dirty talk, oral (m&f), unprotected sex ]

❀⋆˚✿˖° 𐙚 ₊ ⊹ ♡𓊆ྀི❤︎𓊇ྀི

"it's nice to see you lit up about something, even if that something is my girlfriend."

art cringed at patrick's words, knowing his best friend was right, but he denied it, even though it was bluntly obvious to anyone and everyone who knew how he felt about tashi duncan.

he shook his head, glancing down at the table. "patrick, you know i would never do anything to jeopardize your relationship, or our friendship. i'm happy for you, i really am."

all patrick could do was laugh, giving art a cheekish grin before taking a sip of his coke. he set it down on the cafeteria table before looking back to his friend. "hmm. you gonna come with us to her parent's fundraiser tonight for the tournament tonight? she's letting us bring guests... so, you could always bring a little someone?"

"patrick." art rolled his blue eyes, shaking his head in disbelief with a half-smile. "as if. the only thing i'm focused on is tennis. but yeah, the plan was to come, as long as you two don't make me the hate my life as the third wheel."

"we would never." patrick leans back into his chair. "why don't you try.. i don't know, you could try talking to [ y/n ]." he shrugs.

art stops for a moment, blinking as he registers his friend's words. he's got to hide the red on his cheeks, which is a bit hard to do with his paler skin. he looks down from the floor back up to patrick. "are you prostituting your own sister to me, patrick?"

you were patrick's younger sister, only by about a year, and also happened to be enrolling in stanford as a transfer student for the upcoming semester. you weren't there for tennis like art and tashi, rather a pretty good academic scholarship for computer science. art liked that about you, the fact that you had more to you than sports (sports wasn't a bad thing, just different), and that you had goals other than the ones he, patrick, and tashi had. but he hadn't talked to you in about a year, so it had been a minute since he had even seen you. yeah, you two had each other on social media, but neither of you were that active.

"what? no." patrick smirks, clearly indicating otherwise. "i mean, she thinks you're cute, i guess. i can tell. and she'll be there since tashi's letting me bring my family, so you could always just flirt with her, i don't know. something to spice up your night? who knows, maybe you could fu-"

"you're - you're gross." art nudged patrick, an awkward laugh leaving with his words. "[ y/n ] and i wouldn't have anything to talk about anyway besides you and stanford, and she's not even going into the same program as me. and she's your sister, for one, so i'd prefer to not talk to her about you the entire time. weird conversation starter, don't you think?"

patrick leaned closer, holding his coke loosely and taking a sip, before tapping it quickly against art's lips. "not like you haven't accidentally kissed your dear friend before, art. wouldn't be weird to kiss anyone else in my bloodline."

"again, gross." art's cheeks tinted a light pink at that memory for a year or so ago of the two of them with tashi, before he stood up, slinging his bookbag across his shoulder. "enough of that. i'll see you tonight."

"m'kay." patrick nudged art with the bottom of his shoe as he stood up. "see you tonight. text me when you get there."

art left the cafeteria, looking down at his white, court-scuffed sneakers as he walked down the sidewalk. he was in trouble. he wasn't even thinking about tashi and patrick now. that jealousy subsided for the moment.

yeah, he hadn't talked to you in awhile, but it's not like you didn't have a history patrick didn't know about. i mean, you fucked like, what, right before he went to stanford?

there was never anything between the two of you. art would give you a simple 'hey' when he went to see patrick at your parents' house, but that was really it. except when patrick went to hook up with some girl in the middle of the night, and art was in the kitchen getting some snacks at 2 am, high off a bong him and patrick had been hitting for way too long, and you walked in there in nothing a but baggy t-shirt, also extremely high on your own accord, thinking no one else was around, and well... one thing led to another. whoops.

he didn't regret it, and neither did you, but there was an unspoken agreement to never tell patrick because regardless of how much he'd give you two shit for it, inside, he'd probably be extremely pissed off. it was a one time thing, but he wouldn't get that, no matter what the present matter was now.

impulsively, in the midst of stress, art dug into his jean pocket to pull his phone out. he pulled up your number, his pink lips pressed together as he debated what to do. should he text you and give you some sort of heads up? he wasn't going to leave you to the wrath of your own brother, so he started to type. he didn't even know what he was saying, but he had to say something, right?

hey, patrick said you'd be at the fundraiser tonight. i don't think he knows about last year, but he was making jokes with me about hitting on you. so i guess just, be cool tonight.

you were in your hotel room unpacking your suitcase when your phone pinged. luckily, given that your only sibling was patrick and he was staying with tashi, you had a room to yourself, as did your parents. you were glad for that too - you'd be able to focus on everything stanford this weekend to prepare for next semester. art didn't even really cross your mind until you saw his name pop up on your screen for the first time in months.

your brows furrow as you lean down to pick your phone up off the side of the bed. you open the text, your eyes widening a bit. there was no way patrick knew. like, actually no way, so you weren't concerned about that. it was just the idea that he was making jokes about you talking to art that kind of threw you off. why would he say that?

hey. i don't know why he'd say that - no way he knows, he's just fucking with you, so what's new lol. i'll see you tonight, i'm sure it'll be fine.

"great." you mutter to yourself, before setting your phone back down once you saw his immediate 'thumbs up' reaction to your message.

you were both high when you fucked, but you still remembered it. it's not like you didn't know what you were doing, both of you knew exactly what was going on. awkward small talk that led into you stepping closer to art, art stepping closer to you, you making the first move to kiss him, and well... yeah. you remembered well.

you thought art was hot too, obviously, and it was fun, but you never thought you'd have to even think about that again. i mean, yeah, you'd see him again probably at patrick's wedding (if he ever got married), or maybe at one of their matches, but that was really it.

you had been with someone for the past few months anyway, and that was your main focus, at least romantically, but he went away to college, and you both agreed it was best to just, move on, and go in different directions. and it was, because you were sad for a little, of course, but you wisely focused your attention towards school and work. never thought you'd be texting art donaldson for the first time in months right now.

"focus." you said to yourself, averting your attention back to the half-unpacked suitcase before you.

a few hours had passed and you were getting out of the uber with your parents to walk into the banquet room that the fundraiser was being held in, until you were directed to go outside for the social portion of the event before dinner. it was evident the duncans were like, insanely rich, probably from the amount of funding they got from their daughter since she committed to stanford, so i guess that was good on your brother.

you looked around for patrick, knowing that he was already there with tashi. you spotted them standing at a pub table talking to none other than art. of course, you looked back for your parents, but they were already off at the bar waiting for alcohol. shocker.

"[ y/n ]!" you could hear patrick yell your name, waving over to you. he gestured for you to come towards them.

you sigh, plastering a fake, obviously anxious smile across your face as you wave in return, walking towards the three of them. tashi smiled at you, and walked towards you first to introduce herself. you could see art in the corner of your eye, hands in his pockets, while he glanced more towards the floor. way to play it cool, art.

"hi! you're [ y/n ] - i'm tashi." she pulled you into a gentle hug. she was way taller than you, about the same height as your brother. you returned her hug, giving her a soft smile, as welcoming as you could be to your brother's only girlfriend that he had been with for more than a month.

"hey. it's nice to meet you, tashi." you nod, looking up to her as you step apart. you glance to patrick, then to art. you give him a short casual, wave. "hey, art."

art takes a sip of his beer. "[ y/n ]. good to see you."

"you too." you say shortly. patrick furrows his brows, looking between the two of you, before shaking his head.

patrick reaches forward to take tashi's hand. "let's go say hi to my parents. they wouldn't shut the hell about meeting you over the phone this morning." tashi nods, before giving you and art both a wave. "yeah, for sure. see you guys in a bit."

patrick and tashi walk off, before it's now art and you standing at the table alone. you can barely even hear the music around you with how much you were thinking about the situation at hand. you hadn't seen art in person in what felt like forever.

you would be lying to yourself if you didn’t think he looked good. better than good, actually. he was much more toned, you could tell with the way his muscles were tight, but not too tight, against his light blue polo. you could see it in his jawline, his legs, his chest... damn, he looked good. you'd never dispute that.

"so, has he said anything to you?" you break the silence, maintaining your distance.

art shook his head. "no. he's been more focused on tashi meeting your parents. you?"

"of course not." you sigh. you reach to the table next to the two of you and take one of the drinks from a serving tray. "he's distracted. i really don't think he's aware of anything, art. plus, that was like a year ago, it's not like either of us think about it either. i mean, i can barely remember it."

art wouldn't say that he was hurt by your remark, but it didn't feel too good. you didn't remember it? yes, you were both under some sort of influence, but he knew he fucked you good, and he didn't remember you not being aware of that.

"you don't remember it?" he asks, tilting his head in confusion.

you blink. you look up to him, the drink in your hands as you stand straight. you clear your throat. "uh, i mean, isn't it best to just.. act like it didn't happen? not like it keeps us up at night, so why would it be relevant? it was a one time thing."

art couldn’t help but frown, gently shrugging his shoulders as he look up at the marble ceiling. "well, i mean, it happened, so it's weirder to act like it didn't, you know."

"…okay." you trail your words, nodding as you notice him looking away. "so.. so you'd rather acknowledge it?"

his eyes went from the ceiling to you. “i can pretend like it didn’t happen if that’s what you want.”

god, he sounded so disappointed. you could hear it in his voice. he got quieter, and his hands would fidget in his pockets, struggling to express the way he felt to you in fear of stirring up any sort of tension, worse than the amount that was already in the room.

you take a sip from the drink in your hands. it was strong. you wince, setting the glass down on the table.

"no, that's... that's not what i mean." you wanted to crawl into a hole and never come out. your goal wasn't to make him feel like shit, just to be more casual about it. "i don't want you to think i didn't have a good time, i just.. just don't want to think about something that wouldn't happen again, you know."

art's brow raised. a smile creaked at the corner of his mouth. he leaned against the pub table, and glanced up to you. "do you want it to happen again, [ y/n ]?"

your eyes go wide, and you can feel the blush crawling onto your skin. you chew on the side of your cheek for a moment, and avoid eye contact by staring at the table.

"that's... that's a big question, art." you laugh to relieve your own inner tension, grabbing the glass that you had previously set down and taking another sip. maybe you need something strong for this conversation. "it's been awhile, and i mean, we weren't even sober when it happened. so, it's hard to answer that, i guess."

art hadn't thought much about it the past year either, if he was being honest with you. he'd been so wrapped up in tashi and patrick, and tennis, and school, that there wasn't even any room to think about you, or any other women, for that matter. but now that you were right in front of him, he wouldn't pretend that he wasn't thinking about it now.

the opportunity could potentially present itself, if you two were careful. he could fuck you in your hotel room tonight if you wanted him to, or, if you were antsy enough, he would gladly let you ride his dick on that table in the separate dining room that the duncan's weren't using tonight he noticed on his way in.

art was an understanding guy though, so it's not like he didn't consider how you felt in this situation. if you didn't want him to even lay a finger on you for whatever reason, that was fine, too. but if you did want that, god, he'd gladly do so.

he doesn't answer your words from beforehand. he got lost in his train of thought, so instead, he figured he'd have to take some sort of initiative. he wasn't the most dominant man out there, but if you were to want this, you seemed to prefer him doing all the work.

"do you want to go inside?" he asked quietly. the indication was there. you felt a pit in your stomach starting to form.

so, you nod. “yeah.” you answer in the same quiet tone of voice. you brush your hair out of your face to rest behind your ears, before turning yourself towards the banquet room.

you looked around for your brother and tashi, noticing they were standing with your parents more towards the front of the large room. you look back to art as he followed behind you.

“fuck it.” you look up to him, and you shrug, attempting to loosen up. “just follow me.”

art bites his bottom lip, and nods. “mhm.” he sighs. “lead the way. fuck it.”

what the fuck were you doing? you’re in a public place. you’re about to fuck your brother’s best friend, again. you thought you were sick - damn, good thing you didn't know what art did behind closed doors with your brother and his girlfriend.

whatever. maybe this would be a good way for you to get over your breakup (even though you were already over it, you just needed an excuse). maybe it would be a good distraction for art, too, god knows he’s been so buried in tennis this past semester he probably couldn’t focus on anything else.

you wouldn’t lie, you were nervous. when you hooked up, all you did was slide your panties to the side, and you kept your shirt on. and he fucked you from the back, so it was a hook up-hook up. no vulnerability there, so it’s not like he saw you for you.

tonight, you felt it in your gut that he'd see all of you. you'd see all of him. and you weren't high, barely even buzzed from your few sips of your drink earlier, so you'd be sober. fuck. you could be sick right now.

"do you know where you're going?" art laughed to himself. were you so nervous that you didn't even know where you were taking him to? he really has to do all the work, even when it comes to location.

art thought about it. you were a sweet girl, really, and he wasn't the type of guy to try and level you down to someone you weren't. yeah, he could gesture the two of you fuck there in somewhere private, despite it being a public event, but he'd like to think you were both above that, at least tonight.

part of him wanted patrick to know he'd be fucking you, but another part of him knew you didn't deserve to be put in the middle of that. he wouldn't do that to you.

"hey." he gently placed his hand on your shoulder, his fingers warm against your cold, exposed skin. "i'm gonna get an uber. we can go back to your hotel. would you prefer that?"

you think for a moment, and nod. "yeah. that.. that sounds good. thanks."

art nods, and with your permission, he takes his phone out of his back pocket and after a few seconds of scrolling and tapping pretty hastily, he orders an uber to the venue. mostly everyone was inside, and everyone was distracted. patrick and tashi were both so focused on your parents, and they were so focused on them, you wouldn't be missed. neither of you.

the ride to your hotel was quiet, both of you sitting in the backseat of the car, both of you refusing to look at each other, looking out the different windows on each side. luckily, it was quick. your hotel was only about a ten minute drive, so you didn't have that much time to think.

"thanks." art broke the silence by opening the car door, handing the driver a $10 bill before gesturing for you to come through his side.

you slide over, and you run your hands down the front of your dress to brush off any light wrinkles that formed on the drive. you clear your throat, looking up to art and then the hotel, before you turn to walk in.

"sorry if my room is a bit of a mess." you mutter, walking through the lobby towards the elevator. "i got here only a few hours before the event."

art smiled down at you as you stepped into the elevator, watching you click your floor's button. he brushed some of his curls off his forehead and shrugged. "as long as you aren't as messy as your brother, it's no problem."

you scoff, rolling your eyes and nudging him. "if there is any rules for whatever the fuck is going on, one of them is to not mention my brother, art."

he snickered, walking through the now opened doors with you towards the hallway. "fine. only because it's a rule now, i guess."

you grinned, the mood shifting from the initial nervousness and awkward atmosphere to a now lightened feeling. you remembered that you and art could joke around, too, and this wasn't some stranger to you. you had known him since you were kids, it wasn't that big of a deal. no need to be so up-tight.

"here." you say, stopping as you fumbled through your purse to grab the room key, holding it against the pad as the door made a short 'click' noise. you push it forward, and set your purse on the little kitchen nook right as you stepped inside. art followed closely behind you.

his hands slowly trailed along your waist, fingertips dancing against your stomach and thumbs pressed against you outer back. you froze, cheeks burning almost in an instinct while he leaned down, gently pressing a kiss on the side of your neck as his noise pushed some of your hair out of the way.

"is this okay?" he asked softly, his hot breath against your neck.

"yes."

art pressed another kiss against your neck, but this time, he let his tongue come forward, too, gently tracing coats of saliva with each kiss. you could feel his cock hardening, pressing against your lower back while he stood behind you.

you closed your eyes, a small moan escaping from your lips. you take one of his hands off your waist and lead it to the bottom of your dress. he takes note of this, and he slides his hand in between your legs, bunching up the middle of the material as he moved his fingers to your thong, pushing it to the side.

you lean forward, gasping as his cold fingers move to your slit, and he could already feel how turned on you were. you could feel him smile against your lips. he pushed two of his fingers against your clit, lightly beginning to rub. your eyes are shut, and you're already so fucking wet. it's almost pathetic.

"oh, fuck." you hiss, one of your hands pressed against the kitchen counter. "you've gotta slow down, art."

he sped his movements up. he felt your body jolt as his touch pressed harder, too. "get on the bed, [ y/n ]." he pulls away.

you gasp softly, and glance to him from behind. you walk towards the bed, where he follows. you stand before him and you glance to the tent in his khakis.

"no." you blush, but a confident grin slowly wrinkles onto the sides of your lips. "you get on the bed."

art chuckles, holding his hands up in the air before he scoots past you to lay on the bed. he sits down, propping his body up by his elbows as he watches you lean down before him.

you begin to unzip his pants, and slide them off him and off his ankles. you reach forward again, gulping while you take the waistband of his boxers into your hands, before you slide those down, too. his cock points up at the ceiling, long and so fucking hard for you. you had felt in before, yes, but you had never seen it until now.

you stand up to take your dress off, where he follows by taking his shirt off. you both strip, and both toss your clothes to the floor. you stand in nothing but your thong, given that your dress had some sort of built in bra. you were so fucking nervous, but you weren't even focusing on that right now.

you lean back down, reaching forward to take his cock into one of your hands, before you lean up, collecting spit into your mouth. before you can suck his cock, art stops you.

"wait."

you look up to him, your eyes wide. "i-is everything okay? did i make you uncomf-"

"no." art shakes his head, his eyebrows raising at your misunderstanding. "no, not at all. i... i wanted you to get on the bed, too.. i.. i want to eat your pussy, [ y/n ]. maybe we can both.. do it at the same time?"

you thought your eyes couldn't get bigger until his suggestion. you take your hand off him, and slowly rise up. "y-yeah. we can do that."

you crawl onto the bed, slowly turning your body to where your pussy is right in front of him, your folds on display before his mouth. his cock was aching, visibly twitching before you with how desperate it was to fill your holes.

you lean down, starting to slowly suck his tip, earning a moan from art before he leaned up, both his hands taking your ass into his hands. he begins to lick your slit, your juices coating his tongue before it latched onto your clit.

your moans were muffled as you filled your mouth with his cock, your eyes while you sucked. art didn't even notice that he began lightly rolling his hips, gently thrusting his cock into your mouth. you could feel him reach further down your throat, making you gag lightly but enjoy the feeling, nevertheless.

one of his hands moved off your ass and to your pussy, lightly, pushing his middle finger into your hole while he still licked at your clit. you gasped, pulling your mouth off his cock.

"f-fuck sorry, i-"

art didn't reply, he instead curled his finger inside of you, making you gasp and your body push closer to his. he pulled his finger out, before grabbing your ass in full again, squeezing your thick flesh before pulling you closer, until you were on his face.

your face was heated, and you slowly leaned down again, sliding his cock into your mouth in one swift movement, before your hips began to gently roll against him. you could feel his nose against your clit, and his tongue dive into your pussy.

you tried to push your mouth and your pussy into two different worlds. you wanted art to feel as good as you did.

you gagged on his cock, and you could feel his moans vibrate onto your pussy while he tongue-fucked you. you didn't know how much more of this you could take before you came all over his face.

"m-mmmhh.." you moaned onto his cock, slowly pulling your face up. you reached forward to stroke him. "art, i-i need to fuck you now, like right now.. you're gonna make me cum all over you if you don't stop.."

art groaned, pulling his face away, which was now coated in your wetness, before his hands found your waist, and lightly pulled you off of him and onto the bed, on your back. you watched him turn his body around, before he got on his knees between your legs.

"wanna see you when i fuck you." he leaned down to peck your lips before he took one of your legs and moved in onto his shoulder. "too pretty to not see when i'm inside you."

you blink, your cheeks a light pink as you take in his words. you smile, despite your nerves, as you look between your legs. you watch his other hand take his cock, and you reach forward, your hand on top of his, as you both guide his cock to slowly fill you.

you both gasp, watching art slide himself fully into your soaked pussy, before he began to find his rhythm. you look up to meet his eyes, both your hands trailing to your hardened tits, as you slowly began to rub your fingers against them.

art looked down, watching you touch yourself as he touched you, and rolled his eyes as the view only turned him on further. he picked up his pace lightly.

"i forgot how good it felt to fuck you." art hummed, his free hand that wasn't holding your leg up moving down to press his thumb against your clit, making you squeak at the added touch. "you are so beautiful, [ y/n ]. and your pussy is so, so good. so fucking sexy."

"yeah?" you giggle, looking between your legs again to watch him slide in and out of your pussy, each thrust sending a jolt through your stomach. "your cock fills me so perfectly, art. makes me so fucking wet. i missed it."

"you did?" he raised his eyebrows, tilting his head in a playful manner. he moved his thumb off your clit, reaching forward to gesture for you to open your mouth, before sliding his thumb inside for you to taste yourself. "you want me to keep fucking this pussy? i'll fuck you whenever you fucking want when you're at stanford. you make me feel so good."

"mhm." you nod, sliding his thumb out of your mouth as you moan at his now increasing speed while your words continued to build off each other's. "you can fuck this pussy anywhere. i don't fucking care, art. you're so fucking hot."

art shakes his head. he leans down to kiss you deeply, before his strokes become more staggered, pulling himself completely out of your hole and drilling himself right back into you. "let me fill you, [ y/n ]. please. wanna see you all stuffed with my cum."

you didn't give a fuck in the moment. you nodded, probably a bit quicker than you wanted to admit. you returned the kiss, but pulled away eagerly. "yeah, fill me up, do it, i don't care. it's so fucking hot. you’re so fucking hot."

art nods, starting to increase his speed, your muscles contracting as he leaned forward, and his cock pierced into you.

you didn’t remember him feeling so good inside you, and you certainly didn’t remember asking him to cum into your pussy, but you were so whipped in the moment you weren’t really focused on anything but what was between your legs and the man who the dick was attached to.

art reached down again to play with your clit, trying to stimulate your own orgasm along with his as both your bodies rocked onto each other, the hotel bed squeaking underneath you and the headboard hitting the wall harshly.

“i’m gonna cum in you, baby, i’m gonna now.. fuck—” art stammered, gasping as he stopped his movements inside you.

you arch your back while his cock filled you whole, your orgasm and his own warming inside you, your own orgasm dripping out from between his cock and your folds onto the bedsheets.

he fills you for a moment, holding you closely as he catches his breath before slowly pulling out of you, lightly rubbing his wet tip against your clit before rolling himself to lay beside you.

art reaches forward, and he cups your cheek. he kisses your lips lightly, some stupid, boyish smirk on his pink lips. you roll your eyes, looking up to the ceiling as you breathe.

“shut up.”

“i’m not talking!” art holds his hands up, chuckling as he glances down at you. “i’m just surprised, is all. this is not how i expected my night to go, but i’m not complaining.”

you roll your eyes, looking up to meet his blue eyes. they’re soft, and they’re gentle, despite the roughness in the way he just fucked you. you knew he meant everything he said to you.

“oh, hush. i’m sure you expected something to happen.”

he shrugs, a cheekish expression still covering his face. “well, maybe. but like, a kiss, or something like that, i don’t know.” he looks down at you, and kisses you again.

you smile into the kiss, before turning the side, grabbing your phone off the nightstand to check the time. “geez. we missed dinner.” you sigh, before looking back at him. “probably a good thing though.” you snicker.

art chuckles, nodding in agreement with you. the last thing he wanted to be around was your brother and tashi, too. “no kidding. you, uh, wanna grab something to eat? and then maybe i can show you around campus. i know it’s kinda late, but all the buildings will still be open. i can show you where some of your classes should be, if you’d want?”

“hm…” you pretend to think for a moment, before nodding, looking up to him and sitting up. “yeah, sure. why not.”

"great." art couldn't help but smile, watching you stand up and grab your clothes off the floor, handing him his own in the process.

he couldn't help but think that you coming to stanford was a good thing, for you and for him. he wasn't even thinking about how patrick would feel about all this. the goal was for him to not know, right?

[bleedinwidow]

hiii guys.. long time no see..

!!! : NSFW/SMUT, art donaldson x reader, fem!reader, fingering, car shit i think idk, 2019/new rochelle art

wc; aprx. 950

an; i’ve never actually posted proper smut before and i’m kinda shameful LOL. is that normal for the first time posting? perhaps i’ll post enough to get used to it. hope this isn’t too crappy. also this isn’t necessarily proofread so my bad

You can’t help it.

Driving home with Art post-date night had your mind running wild. Sat in the passengers seat in your little tight dress, thighs pressed close together and your hands in your lap, fingers intertwined with a grip so harsh your knuckles turned white.

Your eyes were only on one thing — Art’s hands holding that fucking steering wheel. Years of tennis practise, holding the racket with a tight grip, working each and every muscle in his long fingers; it really, really paid off. He must’ve noticed about halfway through the ride, because that’s when he started drumming them against the wheel every now and then or flexing them, but not even a glance your way.

Your bottom lip juts out, your head lolling against the car window, lifting with each small bump. Art glances towards you, then into the road and back to you again. He reaches out a hand and places it on your thigh; you flinch, and he pretends not to notice. “You all good?” He asks, his voice soft.

You want to scoff. You almost do. But you bite your tongue and nod, staring his hand down with both irritation and utmost desire. It’s just not fair. You’re seconds away from behaving like a petulant child, stomping and kicking and crying until Art shoves his fingers in your mouth to shut you up.

Anyway.

The car ride back to yours and Art’s apartment drags on. The low hum of the radio does a little bit of good to distract you from your thoughts, but they linger in the back of your mind nonetheless. What a burden. You plot as you wait to arrive at your destination. Lily’s with Tashi this week — hence your date night — so there’s no need to worry about that, and you’re sure you can somehow convince (cough, seduce) Art into giving you what you want.

Pulling into the apartment lobby’s parking, Art stops the car and turns his attention towards you with a gentle smile. “We’re here,” he states, rather obviously, but it’s something sweet about him you find charming. You don’t smile back though, no; you pout, and his instantly fades into a look of concern. You hate that you can’t tell whether it’s feigned or not.

“What’s wrong? Is something bothering you?” He questions, undoing his seatbelt to face his body more towards you, reaching a hand out to cup the side of your face. His thumb strokes against your cheek in a delicate manner. You half-grumble, half-whine, and a fond smile curls up at the corners of his lips.

You take his hand, the one holding your face, and guide it to your mouth. You kiss the centre of his palm, your own pressed against the back of his hand as you intertwine your fingers with his. You shuffle, climbing over into the backseat and Art watches, until he’s ultimately tugged there with you and seated beside you.

“Baby? What’s—,” before he can finish, he’s interrupted by the surprise that consumes him as his hand’s guided beneath your dress and against the heat between your legs, the fabric of your underwear a lot damper than he had imagined. His lips part slightly, his tongue running over them to hydrate them, watching his hand disappear beneath your clothing.

“Please? You’ve been teasing me,” you beg softly, and your thighs close around his hand, trapping it there. His eyes flicker between yours and his hand, contemplating, and before either of you know it, the pads of his fingers are rubbing firm strokes against you from over your clothing. You squirm, your unoccupied arm wrapping around his, bringing it to your chest as his hand works against you.

Art slides the fabric to the side, and he’s instantly met with the slick of your pussy. You bury your face into his inner elbow with what could be considered a silent whimper, hips bucking faintly. He watches your face closely as his finger glides through your folds, watching for any change of expression, whether it be the scrunching of your nose or the screwing up of your face.

He decides to delay the teasing; you’ve waited enough. His middle finger feels for your clit, pressing down against it once he finds it. He watches as your hips buck, then begins to draw circles against it. Each puff of breath and small sound that escapes from your lips eggs him on further, and he can’t help but rush.

His finger moves quicker as you squirm more and your noises grow louder, legs writhing and grip around his arm tighter. He can’t help but shuffle closer to you to get a better angle, rubbing against the bundle of nerves eagerly, watching your reactions with fascination.

Each twitch of your legs signifies just how worked up you are, and you’re almost embarrassed how quick you’re about to come — you would be, if you weren’t so consumed by pleasure right now.

“Sh—it, Art—,” are the babbles that pass through your lips as you peak, back arching and body writhing. He slows his movements to guide you to come down, keeping his hand idle but still between your legs. He leans in to kiss your cheek, then the underside of your jaw.

“Feel better?”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Checking His List

Warnings: stalker behaviour and other dark elements. Not all kinks or triggers are tagged. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Summary: Your shopping trip turns hectic.

Character: Curtis Everett

Day Twenty-Eight of the December Daze Challenge.

Prompt - the mall is packed and we keep running into each other.

Note: As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

While it’s below zero outside, inside the mall, the air is sweltering. The flurry of maddened shoppers searching for gifts churns the air with body heat and a wall of noise. You want to cover your airs and shrink down to nothing. You hate crowds but you have a list and you made a promise. 

You laid it all out meticulously. You have a strategy but you’re not sure how much that will help given the furor all around. You set off to the first store on your list. The toys will be a lovely surprise at the community lunch. You know the kids won’t be getting much at home. 

You squint at the paper. You made notes of Diana’s every specification. She’s very particular but you imagine that’s why she runs the children’s centre. 

You look up as you approach the east entrance of the department store, just in time to avoid another shopper. You stutter step and back up as you wait for the man to pass. You only realise then that he isn’t moving. He’s standing entirely still amidst the crowds, though it might only be because he saw you about to crash into him. 

“Oh, sorry,” you murmur, not sure he can hear you above the Christmas carols and rowdy shoppers. 

He doesn’t reply, doesn’t react. You hesitate and step around him, issuing another apology as your stress burns even hotter. You’re really no good with the general public, worse in peak hours, and you’ve only just gotten started. 

You don’t come here often. It takes you some time to get situated and find the right aisle. Oh, those are the art sets she wanted, and the Barbies. Hum, they don’t have many within budget. Oh, and the little cars. Those are cute. 

You push your cart, only an inch before you rear back, only then seeing the man standing further down the aisle. You’re not sure you need anything else there, still you might like to check if you can limit how many stores you need to run around to.  

The man doesn’t look at you, he doesn’t even really seem to be looking at the shelves. He’s just sort of there. Then, before you can muster an ‘excuse me’ or anything, he turns and marches off. The way he walks is stiff and straight and staunch. 

As you slowly roll forward and refocus on your list, he sticks in your head. Do you know him? There was something familiar about him? Could he be one of the parents from the children’s centre? Would he be here if he was? 

You peruse and find the selection lacking. You head for the checkout and wait patiently. The line zigzags around shelves of more merchandise, shoppers continuing their spending even as they wait to get their grand total. You peer around dully, unseeingly, until a dark spec catches your eye. 

It’s that man again. The same one from the aisle. His face is unreadable. He wears a beanie and a grey jacket that should help him blend in but for whatever reason, he sticks out. 

He’s look at you? Is he? 

You crane to see behind you. The sign calls out the next available till. It’s your turn. You peek back again but the man is gone. You’re paranoid. That's all. 

You go up and unload your cartful and unfold a reuseable bag. You grabbed only your biggest bags for today. You expect it will be an awkward journey home with all this. You pay with the company card Diana lent you and neatly fold away the receipt. 

You’re certain to leave your cart in the pen meant for them and head out the west exit. It’s closer to your next stop. The bath and body store is fragrant, the air so dense with aroma that it makes your head foggy. 

You buy the cute little bottles for kids; the bubble baths and seasonal candy cane scents. A mini scrubbie for each too. As you put it all in the small basket offered to you by an associate, you look up to the tight corner ahead of you. 

A mother and daughter browse the floral assortment of candles and behind them, a man stands, undistracted by the shelves and tables of product. He watches you. Your eyes meet and you wince. It’s him! That’s so strange.  

It’s one thing to keep running into the same person. It happens in a mall, but you haven’t seen him buy one thing. You haven’t even seen him look at a single purchase. 

You turn and curl around the other side of the table of 3 for $15 candles. The checkout line is twice as long as the previous one. As hike up the bags from the department store. Why did you, the only person without a car, offer to do this? Well, for once, you wanted to feel useful. 

You sense movement. A group of girls flutter up behind you, gabbing about if they should get coffee or just go look at shoes next as they get in line behind you. Then another shadow. Darker. Taller. 

The man passes closely and stops right by you. Your heart is racing. It’s not him, it’s the crowd, the smothering press of people looking for soaps and lotions and candle melts. 

He bends and reaches for something on the floor. He brings up the soap bottle with the reindeer antlers and holds it out. It must have slipped out. You accept it from him with a thanks. These baskets aren’t great for the smaller items. 

He’s already walking away before you can get a look at his face. His grey blue eyes are stamped in your mind but the rest of him remains obscure. You shake away the odd encounter and shuffle forward with the line. 

You tuck the smaller bag of soaps and such into one of your bigger bags and continue on once free of the shop. You don’t expect the dollar store to be an easy task, but a necessary one. You need wrap and few smaller stocking stuffers. It won’t be your last stop but it’s closeby and you don’t want to double back if you can help it. 

You pause to check your list as you sidle out of the way of the dollar store entrance. Alright, that, that, that... You lift your head and push the small cart through the first row. It’s nice to have the weight off your arms, but you’ll have to pick all that up again. And more. 

As you come to end of the first aisle, the foot of the cart rams to a halt. You squeak and look up. That man! His hands clamp onto the end of the cart and you blink. 

“I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t mean to.” 

He just stares and looks past you. He steps around the cart and as he comes along the side, you shrink down, shying away as you expect the worst. Instead, he inserts himself between you and the cart you hear rolling down after you. He stays there, a barrier between you and the unseen shopper. That’s... strange. 

You scurry on frantically. You’re jittering from it all. The man, the hordes, the assault of lights and noise. You need to get out of her soon. 

You get as much gift wrap and bags as you need and use the self-checkout. You’re grateful for that modern convenience. Your social wick is burning short. 

You park your cart, take your bags, and go. As you emerge into the mall, a man walks full force into you, his wife narrowly missing you with her baby stroller. Neither of them apologise as you struggle not to topple. You lift the bags higher with all your strength and forge forward. 

You go to the end of the bench where a few teen boys sit with their skateboards. You turn your back to them and face the mall map. You take a deep breath and hold it in. You’re about to crack. This was a big mistake. You’re barely strong enough to go get groceries on a given week. You just wanted to help! That’s why you volunteer with the kids, even if you mostly hide in the background. 

Your eyes are glassy as you fight back tears. You release your breath slowly. It hurts. The panic attack needles hotly in your forehead and ears. 

“Scram,” the deep voice cuts through the hubbub and the snap of dry fingers adds the punctuation. 

The boys behind you quiet and you turn your head to watch over your shoulder as they grab their boards and hurry away. The man in the beanie sits, knees wide, and leans his elbows on his legs. He curls his shoulders and looks around like a guard dog. 

Your skin tingles as you sit only a few feet from him. You should go too, before you lose all your nerve. Your bags crinkle as you hook the handles around your hands. 

“You don’t gotta go,” he says. 

You wince and turn to him. He keeps his gaze aimed at the closest store. You peer around. 

“Busy,” he comments. 

“Um, yes it is,” you agree. “Thanks, er, I got more to get.” 

You gulp and turn away. Your bags hit the bench as you flee. That was weird too. Or maybe you’re just unbearably clueless. It seems like he was trying to give you space. That he chased away those boys deliberately. But why? 

Flavoured lip glosses, sparkly nail polishes, socks themed for the most popular kids’ shows... you check the marks off your list in your final haul. Just one more thing. A few of the boys like to play knights but the foam swords are all whittling away from play. 

You go down the next aisle, your cart doing little to part the sea of people. You can see what you need. The toy blades and even a few shields. You try to inch forward as an older man turns to the other shelf, but another woman fills the space before you can. 

You wheel back and wait. You just need to get in and out. The woman finally moves and as you go to roll ahead, another cart noses into yours and squeezes into the space. You sniff and pull back again. 

You stare helplessly. That wasn’t very polite but she doesn’t seem to notice. She takes out her phone and ignores you and the shelves. Is she even looking? 

“Hey,” the gritty voice chills you as a large hand rests on the front of your cart. The man in the beanie steps between you and that woman, “you should apologise.” 

“Huh? What?” She keeps her phone up but you can’t see much else. 

“You hit her with your cart. Say sorry.” 

“Who? What are you talking about?” 

“Apologise,” he peels his hand form the cart and jabs his thumb toward you without looking. 

The woman huffs then leans to see you. You give a hapless shrug. Her eyes scan up the man’s dark jacket and she shifts. 

“I-- I didn’t realise,” she clears her throat. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.” 

“Maybe if you cared more about what’s going on than your phone,” the man snarls, looming over her until she backs away. She turns and grabs her cart, nearly hitting another as she rushes away. 

He lets go and turns back, marching past you without a word. You can’t speak either. You’re burnt out. You’re going to get the last of it and go. 

You finally get your turn and grab a couple of swords, each with a different colour handle, and some shields. You put it in your cart and circle the perimeter of the store to avoid the claustrophobic aisles. The checkout line however cannot be avoided. 

You step into the narrow snaking lane where you are to wait your turn. As you lean on your cart, there’s a brush against your back, and another, and another. The garble of voices behind you drone with the rest of the overwhelming noises all around. You sink your head down and cover your ears. You can’t take it anymore. 

You’re jostled again as a man laughs loudly and his elbow jabs your back. You gasp and turn to see what’s going on. A black shape moves decisively from the back of the line, cutting along the edge without falter.  

The man in the beanie steps up and extends his arm between you and the man after you, the one who keeps knocking into you. He pushes him calmly away and inserts himself there, back to you as he crosses his arms and plants his feet wide. 

“Hey, dude, you’re butting--” 

“Pay attention,” the man growls. “You’re being a nuisance.” 

“Dude, I’m waiting--” 

“You’re bothering people. Too loud.” 

“Whatever. You a cop or some shit?” 

The man doesn’t answer. He doesn’t move either. Even as the line ahead of you does. You roll with it and he keeps his barrier in place. You can’t help but be thankful for the unrequested buffer. 

You pay, get your receipt, fill up your last bag, and push your cart into the corral by the door. You’re not going back through the mall.

Before you can back up, another shopper shoulders by and snatches the cart you just disposed. You stagger back and watch, dumbfounded. What is wrong with people? 

Your ears are ringing and your eyes watering, and you didn’t factor in being physically battered by a shopping trip. This time of year is horrid. It’s chaos. People are animals. Just like you always knew. 

Your arms strain as you clutch your bags and make a slow progress through the automatic doors. You just need to get to the bus. You stop just to the left of the doors and try to adjust your grasp. 

Before you can, the weight is lifted and something rough brushes around your fingers. You are too stunned to resist as the bags are unhooked from your hands. You reel around and face the thief. You’re an easy target. 

“Where’s your car?” It’s that man in his beanie, with the grey eyes and the dark stubble. 

“I-- I don’t--- Who are you?” 

“A good samaritan,” he rasps.  

“You don’t have to--” You reach for the bags and he steps out of your reach. “I don’t have a car.” 

He stares at you, “I can walk you.” 

“It’s fine, the bus stop---” you nod towards the street. 

“Bus...” he mutters. “Dangerous. With all this.” 

“It’s fine,” you insist. 

“I have a truck. I’ll drive you.” 

“You don’t-- why?” You sputter. 

He looks around. He’s quiet as his eyes scan the area. “Merry Christmas.” It’s not a very cheery tiding. 

“Oh, but--” 

“Curtis,” he says. 

“What?” 

“So we’re not strangers. I’m Curtis, and you?” 

You heave and give your name. “I really can’t let you do all that--” 

“But I’m going to,” he says and turns away. You have no choice but to follow him. 

“Wait--” 

“I don’t like crowds either,” he intones as you scurry to keep up with him. 

You want to say you don’t think anyone does but you’re still reeling, as much from the hectic experience in the mall as from his sudden act of... kindness? 

He stops behind a slate gray truckbed and slips the bags onto his wrist. He fishes in his pocket and there’s a loud click as it unlocks. He pulls open the back and loads your shopping under the heavy cover. 

“You have a lot of kids?” He wonders. 

You shake your head, “I work at the community centre. Volunteer, actually...” 

He nods and shuts the back of the truck. You wring your hands shakily and stare at the silver lock. You frown and look up at him, finding him staring at you already. 

“You don’t trust me,” he reaches into his jacket and takes out a canister. “Well, if I make a wrong move, press down.” 

He holds out the long black spray can. You shake your head. What is it? 

“Bear mace. You can keep it.” 

You furrow your brow and continue to gape at the inexplicable offer. Why does he have this? 

“Can never be too safe,” he takes your hand and places the can in it. “Make sure those toys get back safe for those kids.” 

You wrap your fingers around the metal and he lets you go. You look down at it then at him again. You’re so confused but too tired to argue. You suppose it is the season for giving, even if he doesn’t seem the festive type. 

“Anywhere else you need to go?” He asks as he takes his keys out. 

You shake your head and back away. He watches you for a moment before he moves himself. He walks up on side of the truck and you the other. The door locks thunk loudly. 

Well, whoever Curtis is, can he be any worse than the general holiday shopper? 

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

We got each other (and that's a lot)

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles, day 18

Prompt: Hurt/Comfort

Rated: M

CW: Violent imagery; aftermath of injury

Tags: Steve got vecna'd (he's okay, though); Angst; Trauma; Fluff

Notes: Continued from day 3. They'll be fine, they just need to kiss some and get a lot of therapy, probably.

Wanna see these soft, broken boys sleeping? Check out the heartwrenching art by @house-of-the-moving-image

Eddie drifts.

Inky blackness surrounds him like cotton, every sound, every thought muffled. His neck and fingers and arms still hurt, but it's the dull kind that comes with exhaustion, the tingle of adrenaline finally rushing from his body. Some distant part of him is still stirring, demanding that they stay alert … but the darkness is warm and soft and alluring as it pulls him under. 

Something cold touches his hand. 

Eddie flinches awake, heart kickstarting in his chest, fear zapping into his limbs like an electric current.

He fell asleep, he realizes, and the terror of it claws its way up his throat like a slimy, rotten tangle of vines. He fell asleep and when he opens his eyes it'll be to find Steve floating under the ceiling again, to find Steve's mangled corpse on the bed, eyes sucked from their sockets, face twisted in an eternal, grotesque scream, it's too late and he fell asleep, he fucking fell asleep while- 

Steve is awake. 

Steve is awake and he's looking at him and he's alive and his hand is lying on top of Eddie’s. It's cold and there's a needle in it from the IV cord and he's ghastly pale against the sheets, but he's smiling softly and he's alive, he's alive and Eddie wants to scream, to cry, to kiss him and never stop, to hold him and never let go-

"Hey," Steve whispers. 

"Hey," Eddie croaks. "You look like shit, man."

"Aw," says Steve, and the corners of his mouth twitch and Eddie thought he'd never see his smile again and shitshitshit don't cry, Munson, don't cry. "Thought I was pulling it off real well." 

He jerks his head in the general direction of the cast on his right leg, the one on his left arm. Eddie thinks he'll hear the sound of the bones breaking in his nightmares for the rest of his life.

"Typical," is what he says. "Half dead and still worried about your looks." 

Steve hums a not-quite-laugh. His fingers caress the back of Eddie’s hand. 

"Is he …?" 

"Dead," Eddie blurts. "For real this time. It's over." 

"The kids?" Steve's fingers twitch.

"Fine," Eddie says, watches how Steve's entire form sags with relief. "Buckley and Wheeler, too. And everyone else. It's over." 

"I- good." Steve screws his eyes shut, gulps. Draws a shuddering breath. "That's good." 

Eddie watches how his shoulders start shaking. Following a sudden impulse, he flips his hand and tangles his hand with Steve's, careful not to upset the needle. Steve blinks down at their entwined fingers. 

Eddie forces himself to smile and rambles on before either of them can question the gesture. 

"El was so fucking metal, you should've seen her. Like, the way she obliterated that douchebag? Remind me to never get on that girl's bad side! Seriously, man, I don't think any of us would be here if she hadn't-" 

"Well, I don't think I would be here …" says Steve. "... if it hadn't been for you." 

Eddie’s words barrel to a stop. Steve’s fingers tighten against his, trace the callouses on his hands. Steve’s smile is small and soft, but his eyes are serious, trained stubbornly on the ugly pattern of his hospital gown. 

"I thought you hated Bon Jovi." 

Eddie huffs. "Fuck, yeah, I do. Forcing me to besmirch my Sweetheart's strings with that mainstream shit? You owe me big time, man. Better start thinking of ways to pay me back."

"Yeah?" Steve raises their tangled hands lightly. "How's this for a start?" 

And then, before Eddie can even wonder what he's about to do, he ducks his head and presses a kiss to his knuckles. His lips are soft and warm. 

Eddie blinks. Waits for the world to stop spinning. 

"For … a start?" he repeats dumbly. 

Steve's eyebrow quirks. 

"Dude, I'd like to do so much more, but I'm glad I managed to lift your hand, to be honest. We should also first talk about stuff, I guess." 

"Oh," Eddie says intelligently. "You mean … like that thing you wanted to tell me?" 

"Yeah, like tha- … that thing." Steve needs to interrupt himself for a huge yawn halfway through. Since one of his arms is in a cast and the other hand is refusing to let go of Eddie’s, it ends up open-mouthed and adorable. "Probably'll have to sleep some more b'fore that, though …"

"Sure thing," Eddie is out of his chair and fussing with the pillow before he realizes what he's doing. Steve's eyes are already drooping as he helps him settle down. "I'll … I'll be outside, tell the others you're-" 

"Eddie?" Steve's grip around his wrist is light as a feather, but he still stops like he's been tethered in place. When he turns, there's fear swimming in those pretty eyes. "Stay? I don't … I'd rather not be alone." 

Eddie is back in his chair before Steve can finish the sentence. 

"Can you…" Steve's eyes are slipping shut again and his words are slurred, so that Eddie must lean closer to catch them. "D’you think you can sing? So I can find my way back, if- … Your voice is like light."

Eddie doesn’t know what to say to that, doesn’t know if there's anything he could possibly say to that. So he says nothing. Just swallows around the lump in his throat and takes Steve's hand and starts singing softly. 

By the time Steve's breath evens out and his fingers go limp, Eddie’s other hand has found its way into his hair. 

Eddie keeps singing for a long while.

For as long as he's here, Steve will always have someone to guide him back.

Part 3

All my holiday drabbles

[semiweirdshipper]

Slashers as fathers with a (teenage) reader.

Notes: 100% NON-ROMANTIC. Platonic love only. Non-binary reader. The reader is a young teenager (you decide the age). Freddy is alive and NOT a pedophile.

Summary: The slasher fathers feeling guilty after hurting their child's feelings. PART TWO. Hurt/comfort addition.

Folks who wanted to be tagged. @hope4rain19, @minaxcarter, @brooke-stinson, @urminebutidontwantyou, @gaipplrhot, @gyarukitti, @raphydude, @thelxapeia, @ant1d3pre55ant5add1ct, @decentsoupperson, @kawaistrawberry21.

Freddy Krueger

Freddy sighed as he stomped to your room in search of his laptop. You had been in such a rush this morning to get to school that you had accidentally left it in there. And while he always respected your wishes for him to never enter your room, he really needed his laptop. Sacrifices need be made some times.

However, as Freddy wandered into your room, he was met with a sight that literally stole his breath. Your bed was completely littered with folders and painted canvas boards. There was a large portfolio bag laying on the ground with its contents scattered everywhere. Painting and drawing utensils alike sat scattered over a table with a still wet painting taped atop.

Eyes ridiculously wide, Freddy looked around and deeply observed the area. He didn't know you owned any of this stuff. Paintings, oil canvases, drawings and sketches, and all of them were yours. And each piece looked really, really good. Freddy couldn't believe what was happening right now.

He thought you gave up on art.

Delicately picking up multiple art pieces, a happiness and sense of pride rushed through Freddy's heart, and he found himself grinning big in a mixture of relief and utter joy. You still loved art, and you were so good at it. He hadn't destroyed your passion after all. That being said though... Why would you hide this from him?

Later that day when you came home, Freddy asked you to go to the kitchen. When you went inside, you froze right on the spot. There, scattered all across the kitchen table, were multiple art projects of yours.

"Dad..." You choked, your heart racing in fear, your words stolen from you, "I..."

"I needed my laptop and uh... Accidentally found these," Freddy explained, a happy smile covering his face as he went to grab your shoulders, "Sweetie, why would you hide this from-"

"I told you not to go in there." You almost shouted, tears blurring your eyes as you pulled away from him.

"Sweetie," Freddy took a step back, hurt by your defensive attitude.

You went to the table and quickly began to gather up your art work. Freddy chased after you to try and get you to stop, "No, stop it. Don't do that- just-just wait a sec, I-"

"I get it, dad, you hate it. You've always hated my art. You-just... J-just leave me alone. Don't touch it, ok," You avoided eye contact while scurrying to protect your work, "I'll put it away."

"No, that's not what I want. (y/n). (y/n), will you please look at me. Hey," Freddy placed a hand on your shoulder and kept you from stomping off, "(y/n), look at me."

With a tense body and watery eyes, you looked at him, art work clutched to your chest and a glare covering your face.

Freddy sighed and said in earnest, "That's not what I want. Your art, I love it. I think it's beautiful an-and amazing! I-I mean, all this time? Really? I thought you gave up on it, I... I thought that I..."

Relaxing, you lowered your arms and looked him straight in the eyes. It felt like your heart had just done a summersault in your chest. "You... You mean it? You... You really like my art?"

"I love it!" Freddy exclaimed almost too quickly, "I love it so much, you have no idea. You have no idea how happy this makes me, (y/n). I thought that I ruined art for you. I... I never stopped feeling guilty about what I did. And I always hoped that one day you would start again, but..."

"Dad," You bit your lip hard in an attempt not to cry. He cared. He actually cared, and he loved your art. He was happy for you.

"Here," Freddy went to grab an old folder off the table.

Suspicious, you set down your art and went to take the folder. When you opened it, you saw dozens of old, un-crumpled papers with very distinct, familiar drawings on them. It took a minute, but you soon realized that these were the very drawings you had thrown away when you were little.

"You... Kept them?" You gaped at your dad, your heart aching in a happy/sad way.

"Of course I did," Freddy's smile wobbled a bit, "I love you and I love everything you do, and I'm so, so sorry for making you feel bad, f-for making you feel like you had to hide this from me."

Lowering the folder, you felt your lips wobble as your heart clenched in great happiness and relief. All this time you believed your dad hated your passion. He had hurt you so badly, but he regretted it. He had always regretted it, and he loved your work.

In a desperate attempt to hide your tears, you rush up to your dad and give him a big hug. Freddy held you as tightly as he could, his arms fierce and protective as he said, "Don't ever give up on your art, (y/n). No matter what, please. I love you so much."

Michael Myers

Michael had wandered out of the garage a few minutes after your friend's dad dropped you off. "Me and (friend's name) are gonna grab a snack real quick, k dad?" You had hollered while rushing into the house.

Rolling his eyes a bit, Michael approached the other man who casually got out of the car. He was grinning big at you and his own kid, seemingly proud and full of joy. "My god, man," He said mindlessly, smiling at Michael, "I tell ya, that was one hell of a game today. Whoo, and (y/n)? My god, they were great."

Puzzled and confused, Michael could only tilt his head in wonder. Game? What game?

The man shook his head and gave Michael an even more puzzled look than he himself sported, "Hey, how come I never see you at any of their games? Rough job or something?"

Michael's silence and confused expression urged the man to explain more.

"You know, the (sport) game? Just had one today- what a show I tell ya. But, I just- I never see you there, you know?"

At that, Michael's eyes went unspeakably wide. (sport)? You were playing (sport)? What? For how long? Why didn't he know about this? He thought you quit playing that when you were little. What was going on?

A week later and Michael was sitting amongst the crowd that was watching your (sport) game. You didn't know he was there. You didn't even know that he knew all your secrets like the fact that you had been playing (sport) for years, how you had won two trophies, the fact that this is where you spent most of your time at, and so on and so forth.

While watching the game, Michael couldn't help but to feel a deep sense of pride, relief and great joy at seeing how passionately you played and how much fun you were having. And you were so talented at it. The other team didn't stand a chance. You had grown so much since you were little. To this day his own actions still haunted him.

He hurt you. He 'scarred' you. And, although you continued doing what you loved, you had still felt the need to hide it from him, for years. He did that. He had made you feel so anxious and insecure that you felt the need to hide your greatest passion from him.

What kind of father does that to their child?

Unsurprisingly, your team won the game, and Michael couldn't be more proud or excited. Once the crowd and commotion calmed down, he patiently waited on you to exit the changing rooms. The way you hid yourself...

Michael gazed around at all the happy families congratulating and/or comforting their kids. It crushed his heart thinking about the sheer loneliness you expressed after the game ended and you had no one to celebrate with aside from your team mates.

When you came out of the changing room, Michael straightened his posture and faced you. It took you a minute, but eventually you looked up, saw him, and froze. A gasp escaped your mouth while your backpack fell from your shoulder to your shaken hand.

Michael's chest ached at the sight of your frightened, horrified face as you frantically looked around as if for an escape. Quickly he approached you and said in sign language, "That was a good game."

"Dad," You stepped away from him, panicked, "I-it's not what you think-I... I-I was just-I'm..."

You were scared, Michael realized, guilt beating on him like a hundred hammers. He waved his hand at you to get your attention, "Why didn't you tell me you were playing (sport)?"

"I..." You stare at him in great panic that melted into sadness and fear. You dropped your backpack and covered your face, saying brokenly, "I'm sorry, dad. I... I didn't mean to. Don't be mad, please, I-I... I'll stop playing it."

What? Micheal rushed to you and went to gently pull your hands away from your flushed face. What had he done? "No, I'm not mad. Please stop panicking. I'm not mad. Not at all."

Confused, you look at him through tear colored vision.

"I just found out you were playing (sport). You even have trophies. (y/n), why did you keep this from me?"

"Because," You winced, "You said I wasn't good at it. You... You hate me for it. I... I just wanted to be happy. I... I didn't mean to..."

He couldn't believe how upset you were, and all because he found out that you were doing what you loved. Marching up to you, Michael pulled you into a big hug that lasted for several minutes. When he noticed you calm down, he moved back a bit and explained.

"I was an idiot back then. I never should have said those things to you, (y/n). I've always felt bad for how I made you feel. You're not bad at (sport) and I never wanted you to stop playing. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I made you feel this way."

You were shocked speechless, so Michael pulled you into another hug. You hugged back, relieved. He wasn't mad at you. He apologized. Everything was going to be alright.

Bo Sinclair

Bo lived in a very, very small town. Everyone knew each other and every piece of information that existed on the surface. Rumors spread and gossip filled the air like pollen. So it didn't take very long for Bo to learn that you had been practicing engineering with the car shop just down the road.

At first Bo had been ecstatic. You were still interested in engineering? He thought you didn't want to do that anymore; you said so yourself. Ever since the incident when you were little, you hadn't helped him with anything physically constructive- not even stuff as simple as hanging a picture on the wall.

Pretty much everyone praised you and said that you were doing a tremendous job. Your skill towards fixing vehicles was a natural, golden talent. You were an impressive, fast learner and everyone loved and appreciated you.

But when Bo tried to approach you about this exciting news, he was confused to hear you deny all of it. You shut his exclamations off and said that the towns people were lying. You claimed to have nothing to do with engineering. Yes, you hung around the car shop, but nothing was going on, you were just bored.

Bo didn't understand it. Why would you lie to him about this? He knew that the towns people weren't making this up- just ask the guy who took a picture of you and your buddies covered in grease while working on a truck engine. You looked so happy. Why was that something to lie about?

For the life of him, Bo could not figure out what was going on with you. Obviously you were lying to him, but he couldn't get you to explain why. It was as if you were completely and utterly avoiding him now, and it was driving him crazy.

So Bo reached out for help.

"Well," Your engineering teacher said in a tense tone, "I talked to em an' they said it's 'cause they don't wanna make ya mad."

"Huh?" Bo shook his head in exaggeration. What did that even mean?

Your teacher gave him a wearisome look, "I think they're afraid you're gonna blow a gasket on em if they do somethin' wrong. I take it that... you got a short temp?"

At that question, Bo was immediately rushed with memories of the past, and he found himself feeling overwhelmed with guilt and dread. That time he got mad at you when you were little, you didn't just give up on engineering. You gave up on everything that had to do with him. Was this why? Because you were afraid that he would get mad at you if you messed up or made a mistake?

You were afraid of his temper.

Coming to realization, Bo spent quite a while trying to figure out how he should approach you. He wasn't the best at emotions or having deep conversations. If he tried to explain himself he feared he would just say something stupid and cause you to be more upset with him.

So he waited for the perfect moment.

A couple weeks later, Bo dragged you to his shop to show you something that caused your mouth to fall open in awe. "Ram 3500, 2018. An' look at'er license plate."

Gasping the name of the state the enormous truck was from, you faced your dad with absolute excitement and disbelief, "Why's it here?"

"Ah, a little transmission trouble on the road," Bo smiled and slung an arm around your shoulder, "Nice huh? She's a beauty. Needs lotta' work, fast, an' I want 'you' to help me."

"What?" Your behavior changed drastically, "Dad-"

"Look, I've already heard all the gossip. I've seen ya work at the shop. I know you know what you're doin', (y/n)," Bo went to stand in front of you. "But what I don't understand is why ya don't wanna work with me."

"It's not... I just..." You sighed and looked at the ground, lost on what to say. A pain filled your chest as you admitted quietly, "I ain't perfect, dad, I... I make mistakes."

"And?" Bo pushed for a better answer.

His impatience and lack of understanding made you snap, "An' you can't handle that. Every time I mess up even the tiniest bit, you get mad at me. What do you expect me to do, huh? I'm only (age)."

Going silent, Bo relaxed upon learning what exactly your insecurity was. You were avoiding him because you were afraid of him getting mad at you for making mistakes. He did this. He put this fear in you, made you this way. And because of that, you were both teetering on the edge of complete life separation.

"(y/n)," Bo reached out and put a hand on your shoulder, "I'm sorry."

Your entire body froze.

"I... never meant to make ya feel this way. I know ya ain't perfect. You're still learnin' an' you've got a long ways to go, but... I wanna be there for you, (y/n). I wanna help you. I wanna watch ya grow, an' I can't do that if ya ain't around... I'm better than I used to be. So if you mess up, I ain't gettin' mad. I'm helping you, because that's what fathers do."

Shot by your dad's moving words, you find yourself staring at him for a long moment before a large smile bloomed across your face. "Right dad," You say, "Let's take a look at her."

With his heart skipping over the moon, Bo grinned and thanked the very stars themselves for this moment, and he lead you to your first shared project since you were a mere, little kid.

Hannibal Lecter

One night Hannibal got bored and lonely and decided to go to Will's house which was where you liked to spend lots of time at. He didn't mind you staying with Will, but some times he himself felt a little bit left out.

When he arrived at Will's house, he quietly made way up the stairs of the porch and temporarily paused just outside of the window. Casually peeking in, Hannibal spotted Will sitting at the dining table reading a newspaper while you stood in front of the stove in the kitchen. Your sleeves were clumsily rolled up and you had a apron on.

The motions of your arms and the state of the kitchen did not lie. You were cooking. You were quite literally cooking food right in front of him. Hannibal couldn't help but to release a small shudder of mixed emotions. It had been years since he last saw you cook- years since he demolished your feelings and forced you away from the passion you both once shared.

To see you cooking now? It made Hannibal erupt with questions and emotions. How long had this been going on? What were you cooking? Why were you cooking? How come he didn't know? Were you happy? Was this why you always spent so much time with Will?

Speaking oh whom, Hannibal watched as you handed out a spoon to which Will stood up to receive. Taking a taste of the spoon, Will made a bright face and reached out for a container of spice. You smiled, laughed and nodded, happily going to add some of the recommended spice to your dish.

Grinning, Hannibal couldn't help but to feel great pride. So, you could handle personal opinions and constructive criticism? What an astounding chef you turned out to be, and you looked so happy too.

Regaining his composure, Hannibal straightened his hair and went to knock on the door.

It took over five minutes for Will to answer.

By that time, things had grown to be rather chaotic. Now only did Will claim that you had gone to bed, but that he also was the one responsible for the late night meal.

Hannibal knew better though.

Whilst you pretended to sleep in the guest bedroom, Will and Hannibal stood in the kitchen gazing around at all your hard work.

"They told me what happened when they were little," Will said, a disappointed look on his face, "How could you say that to them, doc?"

Hannibal stared down at your unfinished dish, his heart clenching in memory of the past. "I spoke out of impulse. I didn't mean to cause them this much insecurity." To think you would go out of your way to lie to him. "How long has this affair been going on?"

"I don't know. Few years?" Will shrugged, "I was cooking macaroni one day, they asked to help and... The ship set sail, I guess."

"You reignited their flame," Hannibal huffed and smiled, "I'm grateful."

"Ever thought about apologizing?" Will asked.

"I have," Hannibal said softly, "However, they refuse to have anything to do with cooking."

"You told them that they were a horrible cook and a waste of time in the kitchen. What did you expect would happen?"

Hannibal bowed his head in shame. He hurt you, more than he had ever imagined. After all these years he believed that you had moved on and found different passions, but instead you clung to cooking and desperately sought hiding it from him because of fear. What kind of father was he to do that to you?

The next morning after the drive home, Hannibal kept you in the car to say, "(y/n). I know it was you who cooked at Wills the other night. I saw."

Having been dreading this exact conversation, you flushed darkly and turned your head away in great shame, sadness and fear. "I'm sorry."

"Please do not apologize," Hannibal cursed at himself for how anxious he made you feel, "I am more grateful than you could ever know."

That stirred a confused reaction from you.

"(y/n), you do not have to accept my apology, but I want you to promise me that you will continue to do what you enjoy, especially if it is cooking." Hannibal looked to you hopefully. "Seeing how happy you were... You have no idea how much joy it brought me. I thought I had destroyed your passion, but..."

Now completely facing your dad, your mouth was agape and your heart pounding furiously with emotions.

"I've always regretted what I said to you that day. It was rude and improper, and most certainly untrue. You are an astounding cook and I'm proud of you. I'm sorry that I hurt you, but, even if you do not wish to forgive me, I hope that you will always continue to do what you love."

Looking at your dad with watery eyes, you blinked and fought for the right words to respond with. All these years you had been terrified of your dad's wrath and disapproval when it came to cooking. He was right, he did hurt you, and the pain was still lingering inside you.

Even though what he said now brought you some form of relief and comfort, you couldn't help but to still feel a little bit of lingering hurt. "I... I need time." You reply quietly.

Hannibal nodded in understanding, "And time you shall have. I will always be here to support you."

-

If I made a part three, it could be about the reader still suffering some anxiety while doing their passion around their dad. And the slasher dads' will be nothing but happy, supportive and proud. You know, just casual comfort and fluff.

[margotw10bis]

Cold Hearted. JJK [m]

hockeyplayer!Jungkook x figureskater!reader

Genre: one-shot; smut; romance; e2l

Words: 13.7k

Synopsis: It's no secret that you absolutely hate Jeon Jungkook, the captain of the hockey team. But you hate him even more when you are forced to share the same ice rink.

Warnings: some violence (pushing during hockey games and one punch is thrown); fingering; unprotected sex; oral sex (m. receiving); use of the words 'slut' and 'whore'; spanking

"But why?!" You loudly whine

Even the holidays season with its merriness, its cinnamon and brown sugar scents and its family gatherings cannot soothe your disgust. You were so happy this morning when you woke up and saw the landscape painted in white with the thin layer of snow. You have been in a good mood all day long — which your big Christmas sweater witnesses since you wanted to share your cheerfulness when you put it on.

And now, Jimin is looking at you with pitiful eyes. You know he is as upset as you are, maybe even more since he is the president of the Figure Skating Club of your college. You might not be the president, but you're the vice-president and every member of the club knows that you'll take Jimin's lead when he graduates. Ever since you stepped foot on campus, you have been truly invested. Your whole life has been dedicated to this sport, it even allowed you to get a scholarship for Seoul University.

"It's just for a couple of months" Jimin tries but it does little to soothe you

"I won't negotiate with those neanderthals" You state, crossing your arms against your chest

"Stop being overdramatic"

"I'm not! All they do is smashing each other against the walls and flow a stupid ball into the goal!" You exclaim

"It's a puck, Y/N" Jimin corrects

"Tomato, tomato" You wave his comment off "They are fucking stupid!"

Jimin stays silent for a few seconds, knowing that there is nothing he could say to ease your anger. It's no secret that you can't stand the hockey team. They are just a bunch of brainless guys trying to hurt each other just to mark a goal. It's barbarian. It's just the exact opposite of the delicacy and art of figure skating.

But what you hate the most about the hockey team, it's its captain: Jeon Jungkook. The guy is simply obnoxious. It's the typical kind of guy that thinks his social popularity allows him to do everything he wants, including mocking others. He is an idiot and his handsome face only makes him more irritable to you.

That is why you refuse, with all you have, to share the ice rink with him. Even if it's just for a few months. Even if it's for shooting a k-drama with your favorite actor. It's just too much to ask and you know that you will end up strangling Jungkook to death by the end of this situation. And you are not risking your future for such a little fucker.

"Please" Jimin begs with his flirty face, immediately making your face redden

Park Jimin knows damn well how good he looks. And he surely knows how to use it. His bleached hair is to die for, his eyes are hypnotizing and his lips... gosh, how can he have such kissable lips? He can be so appealing, knowing exactly what to do to win your heart. You try to look away but Jimin catches your attention again by gently grabbing your hand.

"I need you. You know I can't to do it without you" He purrs with his oh-so-sweet voice

You purse your lips but you both acknowledge that you are losing this battle.

"Please, do it for me" He adds

His eyes shine so brightly that your heart stops a bit. Fuck... He is good.

"Okay..." You sigh, earning a perfect smile from Jimin "But I won't make any efforts with Jungkook and his jerk team. You'll be lucky if I don't murder any of them" You warn

"Thank, Y/N! You're the best!" Jimin exclaims while hugging you, deciding not to care about your threat because he knows that you will, in fact, do everything you can for the club

♡❆~❅~❆♡

It's with a choked throat that you enter the ice rink today. Usually, it's the best time of the day because, when you are skating, you feel free. You feel like nothing matters than your skates and your moves express everything you can't put words on. You have been skating since you were three because your mom was a former Olympian in that very same sport. Of course, she was strict with you but she always gave you the choice to keep going or to stop. But you didn't. When you were happy, upset, or sad, you put your skates on and slit on the ice. After entering Seoul University, it was just natural to join the Ice Skating Club and you haven't regretted it one bit.

Until now.

You are so mad and grumpy at the idea of just seeing Jungkook. And you are even madder when you know that you'll have to act civilized because Jimin is not here and you are the one representing your club.

You are lucky enough to be the first one here. You make sure your skates are well-attached and start your warm-up. You even succeed in slightly relaxing when more members of the Figure Skating Club join you. And since it has been more than fifteen minutes, you even think that the hockey team won't show up.

Well, that's what you thought until you hear some shootings — similar to monkeys when they find food — and you witness the players entering your sacred place. They are wearing their hideous hockey jersey and acting like the stereotyped jocks they are.

You feel your whole body tensed and you stop your track, waiting for Jungkook to be his usual self, that's to say a prick. And you don't have to wait long for it...

He slides gracefully towards you, his helmet under his arm so his stupid face is at full display, and you cross your arms against your chest, clearly notify him that you are not in the mood for bullshit.

"Hello there, sunshine" He greets you with a wild smile, certainly trying to lure you but it doesn't work and you raise a brow "It looks like we have a problem" He continues with the same smile

"Oh really?" You ask

"You see" His voice has become softer and the goosebumps running on your skin is a sign that you won't like his next words "We need to train for the championship so you need to postpone your... thing"

This little bitch.

Jungkook clearly doesn't care about your club, not even taking it seriously. Your fingers tickle with the willing of slapping him.

"How sad, we arrived first" You fakely pout "I guess you have to postpone your thing. Toodles"

You wiggle the tip of your fingers to bit goodbye and turn around. Jungkook stands speechless one second but he is quick to grab your arm.

"Wait!"

You throw a death stare at his hand on you and he immediately takes it away.

"I think you don't understand, we need to win the championship" He explains, a little more stressed

"I think you don't understand. You are on our practice time but we have still welcomed you. You are not the only one training for a championship, Jeon. If you don't respect our club, you are free to train somewhere else" You bite back

"Come on, you can't possibility think that dance skating—"

"Figure skating" You rectify with a frown

"Whatever. You can't possibility think that it's more important than hockey"

Your mouth open in shock and disbelief. You are ready to slap him but, fortunately, Nayeon interferes. She is always sweet and the fact that she is dating one of the hockey players might help. She tries to make Jungkook understand that your club and your activity is as important as hockey — to a personal level for the members but also for Seoul University because you are competing for the Asian Universities Figure Skating Cup. You would like to tell Nayeon that she's wasting her time because Jungkook is too stupid to understand that but you stay silent and throw harsh looks at the captain — which he ignores completely.

You are boiling with anger, so much that your body trembles. You knew that you couldn't act pacifically with those neanderthals and that it would be impossible to share the rink. You knew it but you are still angry, furious that Jungkook despises your club so much. How can he think that he is better than you? That what he does is more important than everyone else? You know exactly how he is, yet you still had some hopes that he would act civilized...

You see red when you notice how he is trying to charm Nayeon and that's enough for you.

"Listen to me, you douche" You bark

Jungkook is shocked by your anger, you can see it on his face — widened doe eyes and opened mouth. Surely, no one must have dared to speak to him like that.

"Rather you accept to play only on the half of the ice rink which, to be honest, is very generous from us, rather you find another place. I'm sure it's simple enough for you to understand that, right?" You notice the captain opening his mouth to protest but you don't give him the time to speak "Right now, you have pissed me off so much that I don't want to see your stupid face. So get out and come tomorrow if you are ready to act like a decent human, with an apology towards us"

Jungkook can see in your eyes that nothing will make you change your mind and leaves, downhearted. His team tries to make him fight but he silences them with a mumbled 'we'll practice tomorrow'.

When the ice rink is free of hockey players, the other figure skaters of the club join you and thank you for defending them. You smile brightly at them and finally you start your training.

♡❆~❅~❆♡

A lot of things have changed the next day. First, the film crew has settled all its equipments. Even during competition, there are not as much lights, camera supports and so on as right now. Someway, it's a little bit impressive and you grow excited at the idea of meeting the main actor.

But the second point drives all your happiness from your body. The hockey team has learnt its lesson and they have arrived early. Shoutings and rough sounds of the puck being stricken fill the usually peaceful ice field. You sigh, already tired by the future conversation you'll have with Jungkook — during which you'll probably loose braincells.

"Sunshine!" Jungkook yells with a bright smile that only seems fake, you can see it even with his helmet on

You wince at the nickname. It feels like he is making fun of you and you surely don't like it.

"As you can see, we arrived first so, following your rules, you have to go"

You are speechless. And Jungkook seems so proud of himself. Is he fucking serious?!

"Are you crazy? You know damn well why I told you to leave yesterday!" You throw at him with anger

"It's just the way you say it works, sunshine" He fakes ignorance

"Stop with the stupid nickname!" You snap

"But it suits you so well" He pouts and you want to slap him in the face 'So I guess you have to go. Toodles"

The captain mocks you by doing what you have said and done yesterday but only this time, Jimin is here. While you are trying to convince yourself that murder is not the solution, Jimin talks with the hockey team. He has always had everything a leader has. He can stay calm, even when you are ready to explode. And his peaceful nature seems to work because after a few minutes of negotiation, he turns around and waves you to come.

It has been decided that you'll share the ice rink, each one of you having one half of the rink. However, on Thursdays, the hockey team will access the whole rink, and on Tuesdays, it will be the Figure Skating Club. You just know that you'll have to do your best to ignore the hockey team, which is not easy when all they do is yelling like four-year old kids.

However, after two whole weeks of this agreement, no murder has been committed — which is a Christmas miracle. Jungkook is still growing on your nerves but not speaking to each other certainly helps. What helps too is that you are trying to do a technical figure and you have spent days concentrating and doing it over and over again. However, your efforts are poorly rewarded because you still can't do it.

You sigh, nod at Jimin's advice and prepare to try again. You clear your mind, concealing all the noise around you and visualize the movements your feet have to do. You are ready, you can feel in your bones that, this time, you will succeed. You open your arms, start sliding to increase your speed and at the exact right time you are willing to jump, a sharp pain in your butt stops you.

It's like someone has pushed you and you fall heavily on the ice. You growl in pain, your eyes watery at the painful spot on your left asscheek. Oddly enough, the pain is precisely located.

"Y/N, are you okay?" Nayeon asks with worried in her voice

You don't have time to answer because someone else arrives next to you. Someone you clearly don't want to see.

"Sunshine, are you okay? I'm so, so sorry!" Jungkook apologizes but it only makes you madder "Where are you hurt?"

He then puts his gloved hand on your ass like it was nothing. Your cheeks burn with wrath — and only wrath that's for sure.

"Get your hands off of me!" You yell

When you turn around, you hiss as you sit down because it's so fucking painful. The hockey puck next you informs you of what has just happened.

"Are you fucking stupid?!" You let your anger spill through your mouth "Can't you see that the goal is on the other side?!"

"I'm sorry, I swear I didn't want to throw it this way" Jungkook explains

"And you think you are ready for the championship" You mumble to yourself but the captain can hear it too

You stand up, Jungkook willing to help you but you wave his hands away, pretty harshly if you have to be honest. However, you welcome Jimin's help. You two slide on the ice until you can take off your skates. It hurts like hell and you can't sit. If you didn't hate Jungkook already, you would surely do by now. You can't believe that someone can be so stupid and dangerous. You are angry, even more when you know that you were about to succeed in a figure you have been trying for days! Tears of frustration — that you present as pain for the club because of your ego — roll down your cheeks.

Jungkook looks at you with a pout and sorry eyes. He really didn't mean to hurt you. He wanted to catch the puck, slide between two players and throw it into the goal with a awkward but technical angle. He hasn't planned on losing balance and throwing the puck while he was fighting not to fall. His heart has stopped when he noticed the puck fly away, and even more when you fell on the ice. He knows that the puck is painful, that is why hockey players wear so much equipment. But you didn't have any. Only your black legging with a light skirt and a thin but warm wood long sleeve t-shirt. He has no doubt that it hurts like hell. And he has no doubt that you are not ready to soothe your hate for him.

♡❆~❅~❆♡

After going back to your dorm, you head to the bathroom. You want one thing: take a hot shower. But the huge bruise on your butt is as painful as it is ridiculous. You mumble all kinds of insults towards Jungkook and the whole night is necessary to soothe your anger.

However, your mood alters when you spot the said captain running to you the next day as you are heading to class. It's too early in the morning to deal with idiocy, but thankfully your wooden beanie and your large scarf hide your face. Maybe Jungkook won't recognize you — but you are not that lucky. The cold weather of December numbs you, that's certainly why you don't directly yell at Jungkook to fuck off when he stops in front of you.

His usual cocky smile is nowhere to be seen — oddly — but a worried eye adores his face.

"How are you?" He asks

You sigh but answer that you are fine nonetheless.

"Y/N, I'm really sorry. I bought you this"

You give him a curious look while Jungkook bowsers through his bag. After a few seconds, he hands you a tube of ointment.

"It's the brand I use for wounds. It works very well, so your bruise will gone in two days" He explains and he seems sincere

"Thanks" You lowly say as you take it

You do appreciate the gesture but you are not ready to show it to him. In fact, it's just showing that he is decent human and knows that he has done something wrong. You give him a quick smile and escape because this civilized conversation with Jungkook is so weird. You are used to roll your eyes at his stupid cocky behavior or snap at him when he does something that makes you mad — which happens a lot. But you are definitely not used to talk to him with a quite pleasant topic. It's so strange that you spend the entire morning with a frown, replaying again and again your interaction and not playing much attention to your professors.

And universe doesn't let you rest because when you step into the ice rink, your heart stops: freaking Kim Taehyung is here. He is way more handsome than on TV and you wonder how it's even possible. His brown fluffy hair, his perfect face and his bright smile... He looks like a prince and you can't help your cheeks from blushing.

You keep your eyes on him but discreetly approach Nayeon and whisper:

"What is Taehyung doing here?"

Even if you are whispering, your excitement is noticeable on your voice — and maybe also in your eyes that are sparkling.

"The crew said he wanted to meet us and apologize for the inconvenience" Nayeon explains

Jesus Christ, you can't believe that Kim Taehyung is right there. Your heart beats so fast, you're not sure how you are not dead yet. But your beating heart stops when the said actor turns around and looks at you. You gulp while he offers you the most beautiful smile that you've ever seen.

You look like a deer caught in the headlights when Taehyung walks toward Nayeon and you. Gosh, he is so handsome...

"Hi"

How can his voice be so attractive? Deep and warm and sexy. Almost like he were singing jazz. And he has said one syllable.

"Hi" you reply with automatism because your brain has ceased functioning

Sadly, Nayeon is required by Jimin, which leads to an one-on-one with Taehyung and you are not sure you can survive it.

"It must be hard to change your practice schedule for us" He says with concern

"I think we have made it work. Actually, it's an honor to have such a big star here" you reassure him with blushed cheeks

"Still, I've been told that you had to share the rink with the hockey team... Those are not ideal conditions to train"

You fight pursing your lips out of disgust at the mention of the team, especially because it reminds you of Jungkook.

"We have found an agreement" you simply declare because there is not much acting you can do to pretend not being mad at this situation

"I'd like to do something to apologize"

You look at Taehyung with a surprised look. You wonder what he means. He is one of the most popular actors, what would he apologize? Especially to you? Once again, your brain flies towards Jungkook, and Taehyung's thoughtful behavior proves that the hockey captain is just a boor. Taehyung would have every rights to simply not care and let success go to his head but he doesn't. However, Jungkook thinks his pitiful popularity in University is enough to allow him everything...

"If you accept, I'd like to invite you for a cup of coffee" Taehyung asks with his sweet voice and you almost faint

"I— It's—" you stutter with so hot cheeks that you wonder how you are not melting yet "I would love to"

"Great!" Taehyung exclaims with his perfect smile, clapping his hands at the same time, and your heart skips a beat at this handsomeness "I'll wait for you at the end of your practice, is that okay?"

You frenetically nod and watch Taehyung leave. What the hell has just happened?! You must be dreaming because oh my god, Kim Taehyung, the actor every girls are in love with, has just asked you for a.... A what exactly? Isn't it a date? Oh lord, you have a date with Taehyung!

It's just perfect that it's Thursday because Jungkook and his ice hockey team aren't there to mess up everything.

♡❆~❅~❆♡

Taehyung has proved himself as a gentleman. Just like he has promised you, he was waiting for you and you went together at one of the hype coffee shops of Seoul — the one you can read about in tabloids because idols go there. It was so perfect and Taehyung was so sweet. Honestly, it felt like a dream.

Unfortunately, all dreams have an end. The very next day, you were back to your usual average life, fighting the urge to murder Jungkook because he was acting like a pretentious dick — nothing out of the ordinary to be true. And for a whole week, you haven't seen Taehyung.

Except that you are now practicing with the Figure Skating Club, still sharing the ice rink with the hockey team and yelling from time to time when they try to cross the line — literally. Everything is like usual, except for one little — huge — detail: Kim Taehyung is leaning against the side of the ice rink and he is fucking looking at you. Your brain stops, pretty much just like your whole body to be honest, causing you to almost fall. But it's not the worst because you are hypnotized by Taehyung. He is even more handsome than the last time, wearing a black leather jacket with a black turtleneck sweater. The simple yet sexy look is to die for.

You take the time to look at him, not caring that you are still sliding on the ice until you bump into someone. And of course, it's Jungkook.

If you didn't hate him this much, you would have thank him for catching you and prevent you from falling and hurting yourself. But you can't feel any thankfulness when you feel so disgusted at the idea of him touching you. You harshly push away his hands.

"Hey, a simple 'thank you' will do" He rebukes you

You roll your eyes and think that this interaction is over but Jungkook has a different take on it. His eyes lift up and he notices a guy he has seen before behind you. He can't quite put the name on him until it hits him: it's the famous actor you can see in all those k-dramas!

When Jungkook realizes that you were lost in deep thoughts because of this actor, a playful smirk paints his face. He makes sure to take off his helmet to fully let you appreciate it. He lightly shakes his head to give some fluffiness to his black locks that were caged. If he weren't so arrogant, you'd say he is cute. You know, at the very first second you see his wry smile, that you won't like what follows.

"You have found yourself a cute little boyfriend, sunshine" He boasts

"This is none of your business, Jungkook" You reply with gritted teeth

"But I should at least greet him, don't you think? Now that we are close friends" He teases you

You just have time to open your mouth in order to threat him, but the hockey captain is already sliding away. You start to panic and slide after him but the conversation between Taehyung and Jungkook has already begun. This is a nightmare! Why won't Jungkook let you live?

You arrive just in time to hear Jungkook says:

"Y/N is quite something, she is a real pain in the ass"

You see red. Okay, it's official, you are going to kill Jeon Jungkook.

Not only he dares to make fun of something he did — throwing a fucking puck right on your butt —, but he also use it to belittle you in front of Taehyung. This is exactly why you hate Jungkook. He is just mean for no reason and he takes pleasure in hurting people. Moreover, he thinks that's cool to do that.

You waste no time and grab him by the collar of his hockey jersey. You give an apologetic smile to Taehyung who seems to be half-amused half-ill-at-ease by Jungkook's stupid acts.

You drag Jungkook to the locker room and throw your skates away with wrath. Jungkook seems unbothered while he mimics you and calmly takes his gloves off.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" You yell at him "Why would you even do that?!"

"Oh come on, it was a simple pun and you know it" He tries to down play

"Maybe I know it, but Taehyung doesn't! But it doesn't change the fact that it was mean"

"You act way meaner with me, sunshine" Jungkook states with a frown, suddenly more serious

"Stop with the nickname!" You say while you don't calm down "And, just for your information, I won't ever try to belittle you in front of someone you're interested in"

"Oh really? You're interested in him?" Jungkook teases you as he steps dangerously closer and pokes his inner cheek with his tongue "Let me tell you that you are delusional if you think that Kim Taehyung cares about you"

You are taken aback his harsh words but even more by his harsh tone. You have always witnessed Jungkook speaking with an obnoxious playful tone, even when he is saying mean things. But it's the first time he is speaking to you like he was mad. Real mad.

"We went on a date..." You manage to say lowly, almost like you were trying to defend yourself because you have done something wrong

"A date?"

Jungkook bursts into laugh, a laugh that clearly states that he is mocking you. Someway, it hurts.

"You are living in a fantasy, Y/N. Taehyung won't ever take you on a date"

"And why not?" You snap back, quite offended

"Because this Taehyung guy doesn't know how to deal with a woman like you. You're too much for him" He replies with a raspy voice that makes you shiver

"I'm too much for you" You play tit-for-tat

"Hum... I don't think so"

Jungkook takes a step closer. You can clearly see the mold on his nose and the one under his lips. And those lips... They suddenly seem so appealing. And the two rings shining catch your eyes, making you stare at his mouth more than you should. Jungkook is surely handsome, even with his little scar on his cheek that you haven't noticed until now. His black doe eyes are harsher than usual but his frown and his clenched jaws are hot. You have never been this close to him and the atmosphere is so dense.

It would only take you to move a few inches further to press your mouth onto his. However, you don't have to do it because Jungkook does.

His kiss is rough, full of the hate and all the despise you feel for each other. You both growl into each other's mouth. Your hands go up to tug on his hair and his hands harshly squeeze your ass. None of your gestures is sweet. A surprising wave of arousal fills your body. Even though you hate Jungkook, his touch on you feels good. So fucking good.

The messy kiss doesn't stop, even when Jungkook pushes you against the door. The hardness of the material makes you moan, especially when Jungkook abandons your swollen lips for your neck. His wet kisses are nothing like gent but you don't want him to be. You didn't know you liked being kiss like that until now and the thought panics you but you easily put it aside because only Jungkook's lips on the thin skin of your throat count.

You tug harder on his black hair, making him growl against you, when his sneaky hand reaches your crotch. You are so deep in the fog of pleasure that you can't think straight. Your pussy grows impossibly wet when Jungkook starts drawing circles on your covered clit. Your usual practice black leggings certainly help to feel his finger on you.

"Oh fuck..." You groan but immediately bite your lower lip because there is no way you'll let Jungkook know that you love what he is doing to you

"I would have kissed you sooner if I knew you'll shut the fuck up" He teases you with his sexy deep voice

You wish you could reply at that but your mouth falls wide open because Jungkook's hand find its way underneath your leggings and panties. You gasp at the coldness of his digits against your burning and wet pussy. His touch is magical and your legs don't support you anymore. You have to grab his shoulders but you can't feel his strong muscles because of the hockey outfit — which you curse against in your mind.

He presses hard against your clit while drawing delightful circles. It's so fucking good but it's not enough, which your clenching pussy makes you know. You start grinding on his hand and you hate yourself for having so little control over your body. You're pathetic, you know it. Yet, you don't want to stop.

Jungkook drifts his tattooed hand lower, which allows his rough palm to press against your sensitive bud. However, it's worth it when his long digits trace the outline of your dripping hole. Fuck, it's so... You don't even have the words. The delicacy of his touch drives you insane and you just want him to fill you with his fingers. Surely, Jungkook must take pleasure at seeing you so desperate.

You whine and buckle up your hips at the faint hope to slide his digits inside you, but Jungkook is having none of it. He lands a kiss on your burning throat and whispers into your ear:

"Tell me what you want, sunshine"

Suddenly, the nickname doesn't irate you. Quite the opposite actually because you feel your walls tightening around nothing — which is driving you insane.

"Fuck me" You answer with a shaky and weak voice

You don't even recognize yourself but you don't have time to realize it because Jungkook takes a fat lap from the base of your neck to your earlobe, at the exact same moment two of his fingers enter you.

"Oh my god!" You moan as your head rolls back and hits the door

Your walls are swallowing and welcoming him. It's perfect. The stretch is just perfect. And the pleasure is the most perfect one. The contrast between your hot pussy and his cold digit only increases your arousal.

Jungkook starts his pumping slowly but deeply. You have no doubt he can feel how you love it. The whole scene is scandalous and you have never been this audacious about sex — you are getting fingered in the fucking locker room for God's sake! Yet, you don't care.

When Jungkook enhances his pace, your poor cunt throbs around his fingers, urging him for more.

"Your pussy is so tight" He growls against your cheek but he pecks you rather sweetly — a strange contrast with his fingers into you

His free hand wraps around your neck and your walls tighten.

"Fuck, you love that, don't you?" He awes at you "You love being fucked like that, uh?"

His dirty mouth... His smirk is as exasperating as sexy. You won't give him the satisfaction to answer — honestly, you don't have to considering the wetness between your legs. You rather grab his black hair and put him into a kiss so he shuts up.

You feel yourself getting there. Jungkook's fingers pumping you and curling to hit your sweet spot are doing wonders. Jeon Jungkook is fucking you with his digits in the locker room. The exact same Jeon Jungkook you hate.

The realization makes you panic and you suddenly push him.

"Stop!" You yell

Jungkook immediately halts his movements and pulls his hand out of your panties. You feel disgusted of yourself at the arousal noticeable on his fingers.

"Did I hurt you?" He asks with worry

You hide your face into your hands with shame but Jungkook starts to panic, really thinking he went too harsh on you and your poor little cunt.

"Shit, I'm sorry" He tries to soothe you with a gentle voice but he actually makes things worse

When you look up at him, he gulps. You're not hurt, you're furious. Against you, against him. The only remaining of your — fucking hot — sexual interaction is your burning cheeks and the wetness between your legs.

"This—" You speak as you mention between you and him "—never happened. If you tell anyone, I'll kill you"

You run to the bathroom and lock up yourself. The cold water you splash on your face definitely helps for your cheeks but not for your dignity. You feel horrible. You can't believe you have let Jungkook finger you.

♡❆~❅~❆♡

Christmas is getting closer and closer. However, you are not in the mood this year. You usually love this season. It reminds you of the very first time you've put some skates on because they were your Christmas gift when you were four. You are usually so excited. Not this year. Because you have let Jungkook touch your most intimate part.

You have done your best to avoid him, even when he has tried to talk to you. You just couldn't stop replaying the scene over and over again in your head, cringing at it every single time. Why did you do it? You hate Jungkook. Then why? Were you so angry that you were ready to ease the tension by all means? Or were you simply attracted to— No way! As you said, you hate Jungkook, you are not attracted to him. Never.

However, it has been getting hard to believe when you were on another date with Taehyung and all you could think about was the stupid hockey captain. And it made you feel so guilty. So many women would kill to talk to Taehyung — fuck, you were one of them don't so long ago. It makes you hate Jungkook even more, because he is changing you and, you're not going to lie, you're scared.

All this thinking is a little too much for you, that's why you have decided to skip practice today, hoping that Jimin won't resent you. Your absence at the ice rink explains why you have absolutely no idea what is going on at the very same time.

For Jungkook, it is quite a usual day — despite his eyes looking for you every two minutes. Ever since your... moment in the locker room, he hasn't been able to put his head in the game. And his teammates have noticed it too. He lied, saying that the upcoming championship was stressing him but the truth is that he just can't stop thinking about you.

He used to find you annoying, a smartass who thinks she is better than anyone else. To be honest, Jungkook knows you're smart but he has to say, you have a shitty temper. He loved making fun of you or pushing your buttons. That's until he saw how serious and rigorous you were with practice — something he can rely to. Until that, Jungkook thought that figure skating was easy, a kind of game. But he saw you and your club. Saw the technic and the art. And he found you so beautiful, even if you were still fucking annoying.

When he kissed you, he wanted to punish you for not looking at him the way he was looking at you. As egoistical as it might sound, he just wanted you to want him. Because he surely wants you — even though he is not really sure about the reason. He understood it when you mentioned Taehyung. Jungkook was used to think no woman deserved him but now, he is afraid he doesn't deserve you.

All the frustration makes him growl and he has no choice but to take a break. He needs to get some air. He doesn't take off his hockey equipment completely but abandons his skates, his gloves and his helmet. The cold hits him when he steps outside. Today is colder than the other days and if Jungkook believed in signs, he would think that it's an echo of how he is feeling inside.

Lost in his deep thoughts, he hasn't noticed the person a few feet away from him, until he hears the mention of your name. His head tilts up and he discovers, with annoyance, Taehyung speaking on the phone. The actor hasn't seen him yet and keeps up with his conversation.

The feeling of jealousy Jungkook is experiencing quietly turns into something else. Anger.

"No, I don't really care about her" Taehyung says, a cocky smile on his handsome face "I'm just having fun. Come on, this girl is completely whipped for me, I could ask her everything. A little scandal is always good for the promotion of new projects. I was thinking about fucking Y/N and making a sextape"

The airy laugh that follows is enough for Jungkook to head toward Taehyung. He doesn't think twice, his steps completely guided by a boiling wrath. The actor doesn't even have time to realize what is happening: he is grabbed by the collar of his coat, turned around and he receives a harsh punch right on his face.

A growl of pain espaces his mouth and his nose instantly starts bleeding, which only adds to the pain.

"What the fuck, man?!" His yell is fainted by the hand he has put on his nose in a vain attempt to stop the blood

Jungkook's eyes are even darker than usual and Taehyung can see a willing of murder in them. The jaws of the hockey player are as clenched as his fists, certainly ready to punch him again.

"You're a fucking asshole" Jungkook replies with gritted teeth "If I see you around Y/N again, I'll make sure no one recognize your face" He threatens

He turns around, leaving Taehyung in pain and flabbergasted by what just happens. If Jungkook doesn't leave, he might keep his new promise just now. It's not until he is back in the locker room that the pain in his hand reaches his brain. He hisses when he notices the bruised knuckles but the anger is deeper than the pain right now.

♡❆~❅~❆♡

Just like every year, Seoul University has organized a small party with all the athletes. The goal is to keep them motivated — but mostly put some pressure on them so they're cost-effective for their scholarship. Until this year, you have managed to escape it but since you're surely take the lead of the Figure Skating Club next year, you have to be there. It's not that horrible: you get to wear a nice dress and have access to free food and drink. You'll just have to smile a little bit to the Head of the University, thank him for his trust and then, you'll be back home.

The 'annual athletes party' is kind of a pride for your college because all the young people attended it are great in their disciple. One of the best of the whole country. And you do feel proud too when you think about that, you are just not so fond of showing and celebrating it like this.

The mansion of the Head of Seoul University — where the party takes place — is beautifully decorated with Christmas colors. Green, red and white are everywhere to see and a huge Christmas tree — that would certainly make Santa Claus jealous — stands in the middle of the reception room. You have to say that you like the Christmas spirit coming from the party. And you are surely not the only one since pretty much everyone is well-dressed, a lot of them covered in green or red even though the majority of men is wearing black suits. You too have shown your Christmas colors with a emerald green turtleneck and ankle long dress. It's truly elegant with the bright red lipstick on your mouth.

You greet some of friends from the Volley Ball Club, appreciating having time to catch up since your schedules are completely different. You congratulate Roseanne for the gold metal her team has won last month and she assures you that you'll have the same soon, after the Asian University Figure Skating Cup. Her kindness warms your heart but you suddenly tense when you spot one particular person.

You gulp and your cheeks take a red shade in no time. To be honest, you've never seen Jungkook wearing a suit before but he looks so damn confident in it — and so damn hot too. His long black hair is slightly pushed back, offering a great view on his perfect face. He looks really good, like a star. You wouldn't be surprised if someone from an agency appeared right now and offered him to join a k-pop group as visual.

When your eyes lock, you feel the usual wave of panic you have been experiencing since the thing — the fingering — in the locker room. However, you feel the need to talk to him. You have to because you won't survive the next weeks at sharing the ice rink if this tension between Jungkook and you doesn't fade away.

Jungkook seems to understand your inner reflection and your unsure steps are thankfully stopped because he comes to you.

"Hi" He says and his neutral tone is not helping

"Hi"

Your voice is raspy because of your stress. You triturate your fingers, which doesn't go unnoticed by Jungkook who sighs.

"Can we talk?" You ask, even though you know the answer

Jungkook nods and you two walk towards a calmer spot, close to the stairs. After a few seconds of silence, Jungkook speaks.

"Look, I'm sorry" He says, more gently "I shouldn't have... done this"

"It takes two people to do this" You reply and your words surprise him

Jungkook honestly thought you'd yell at him, saying he is stupid and annoying and inconsiderate as usual. He didn't think you'd take your fair share of responsibility — even though he doesn't resent you because he was the one who kissed you first.

"I think we let this thing get out of control" He tells you with a faint blush on his cheeks that makes you think he is ashamed of it

"Jungkook" You start and saying his name without annoyance feels weird because, for the first time, you realize that it's a beautiful name "What is done is done. I was there with you, I didn't push you away when..." You feel your cheeks burning and you lower your voice, almost murmuring "you kissed me"

You spot a strange look in Jungkook's black eyes but you are quick to look away. You clear your throat and continue:

"Let's just forget. We both have a lot of things going on and we know that we need to focus, for the sake of our teams"

The silence you are facing is quite embarrassing, especially because you absolutely don't know what Jungkook thinks. You surely have spoken wisely but you also know that the hockey captain is not the definition of wise...

"You're right, we should forget about it"

You lift up your eyes. The tone he used... It was way too light, even for Jungkook. He is surely hiding something. And you know you are right when you notice the tiniest smirk on his pieced lips. He casually puts his hands in his pockets. He looks like the usual idiot he is, except that you now find him hot.

"However..."

Here it comes.

You knew he had something going on. You wonder what idiocy he is going to say. You are feeling a mix of scare and eagerness — the latest one is definitely new when it's about Jungkook.

"There are things we can't forget about. Like tradition"

A playful grin paints his face but you wonder what he means by that, until he lifts his head up and invites you to look at the ceiling and fuck. You cannot believe a fucking mistletoe is hanging right above you. You certainly haven't seen it before, otherwise you would not have chosen this spot — or would have you?

You gulp and send an unsure eye to Jungkook who only stares at you with his stupid smile. Is he serious? He can't be. He must be playing with you. But he slightly scoots closer and lowers his head. You can smell his cologne and gosh, it messes with your brain. Another organ is affected by Jungkook's flirt: your weak and treacherous heart. It begins to do all kinds of funny things in your chest.

You look straight into Jungkook's eyes, trying to see if he is mocking you but he looks dead serious and you can only gulp, again. He gets closer again and your bodies almost touch. He is close enough for you to feel his warmth. Your inner battle continues unabated. It's not a good idea to kiss him, especially after what happened.

Yet, you want it bad. Real fucking bad. You know how his lips feel on you, you know how he kisses, you know you'll like it, love it even. And it's almost Christmas, isn't it the right time to do things you love?

This last thought sells you on your decision. Your hands go up to settle on his large shoulders that you finally get to feel underneath your fingertips. You stand on your tiptoe and you bring him closer to you. His breath is warm on your lips and you just can't wait to kiss him. Who would have thought that you would die to kiss Jeon Jungkook? Certainly not you.

Right before you can fulfill your wish, Jungkook is getting snatched out of you. You stand there, completely speechless as two policemen handcuff him in the back. You don't understand what's going and the hockey captain doesn't seem to know better. Everyone is looking at him and at you but you can't care because it must be a sick joke, or a nightmare.

"Jeon Jungkook, you are arrested for assault" One of the police officers states before reading Jungkook's rights

What the hell?!

They are heading to the front door and you force your feet to move, running after them.

"Wait!" You exclaim "It must be a mistake!"

"It's not ma'm and your friend knows it, right boy?"

You look at Jungkook, full of hope that he'll tell you that you are right and they are wrong. Jungkook is stupid, arrogant, even mean sometimes but he is not violent. You wouldn't have let him kiss you otherwise. However, Jungkook sends you an apologetic eye and he lets the policemen taking him away from you.

♡❆~❅~❆♡

What just happened?

This is what you wonder the entire hour following Jungkook's arrest. Even the word makes you shiver. Obviously, the whole hockey team has driven to the police station, trying to know what happened and how they could help their captain. You wanted to go too — the reason being indeterminate — but Jimin convinced you it was a bad idea. It's just that, with your temper, you would have probably end up insulting a policeman and get arrested too.

A whole day has passed. You have been waiting for practice all day long. You even rushed to the ice rink after your last class, but only to find the place empty. It was impossible for you to concentrate of your routine so you gave up and waited for the hockey team to arrive.

You almost don't notice them because there are no shoutings and cheering announcing their arrival as usual. They are silent and — you can't believe you're saying that but — you hate it. You don't like that they are not in a good mood because it means it's bad for Jungkook.

You run to Mingyu, a hockey player and a great friend of Jungkook. He is the one who must know the most of things. You don't waste time on greetings and directly ask about the captain. The first reaction you earn from Mingyu is a desperate sigh and your heart squeezes.

"It's not good" He starts to explain "He has been accused of punching a guy and breaking his nose. Jungkook said it's true"

"Is he going to get out soon then?" You question with hope

"Yeah, in a hour or so. But he'll have to wait for trial. The other guy wants an apology to find an agreement and drop the charges, and of fucking course Jungkook refused" Mingyu growls with frustration

"Why Jungkook doesn't want to?"

"I don't know, he is stubborn" Mingyu sighs, his annoyance clearly noticeable in his voice

You understand Mingyu. You can't believe Jungkook is refusing to say sorry! It's stupid! He was the one who punched someone, he should apologize no matter what. He is ready to go to trial just not to hurt his pride! It's ridiculous!

"Who is the guy he's punched?" You ask

Mingyu looks at you with eyes widened by surprise.

"You don't know?"

You shake your head to say no. How would you know that?

"Kim Taehyung"

♡❆~❅~❆♡

Furious. It's what you are feeling after your conversation with Mingyu. You knew that Jungkook wasn't fond of Taehyung, that he didn't really appreciate you hanging out with the actor — even though it was none of Jungkook's business. But you didn't think that he would punch him! For what? Jealousy? It must be that because you have never seen them talking. There is nothing else Jungkook could be upset about.

But yeah, even though you are furious towards Jungkook, it doesn't mean you want him to go to prison. You have done a little search last night because you couldn't sleep, way too worried about a certain hockey player. He could go to prison for a year. Even if his sentence is softer, he would still lose all his chances at turning pro. Everywhere he'd apply for a job, it would be noted, clear as day, that he has been convicted.

You don't really know why you are so affected by Jungkook's doom. One month ago, you would have done everything you could to avoid him and now... you are ready to what? Fight for him? It is ridiculous, you hate him. But the more you say that to yourself, the more it feels like a lie.

Maybe that's why you have met with Taehyung, trying to make him drop the charges. Are you ready to drop your ego and apologize to someone for something you didn't do just because of Jungkook? It seems like it. You aren't pleased to do it but it is nothing compared to the way your heart clenches at the thought of him going to prison.

You are a little but shocked when you see Taehyung. He looks... ugly to you. Well, you still can spot his handsome features, even though half of his face is covered by the large white medical patch he has on his nose. It's not even that that makes him ugly to you, it's his eyes. They are harsh and cold, reminding you of a snake.

"How are you?" You ask gently, trying to push away the unpleasant feeling of his coldness

"How do you think I am?!" He snaps back at you "Look at my face! He broke my fucking nose! Do you know how much money I'm loosing right now?"

You tense at that. Is money more important than someone's future? Jungkook is risking it all. Taehyung, on the hand, might be losing money but you know damn well he has enough of it for a few years, a few decades even. And even though you are feeling a dull anger building up inside you, you focus on the reason of this meeting.

"I'm sorry Jungkook punched yo" You say, a little less soft than before

You only earn a scoff from the actor, making you nervous to ask for a favor.

"I know it was wrong, I really do" You start carefully "But could you forgive him and drop the charges? I know Jungkook must feel bad about hurting you, I swear he is not violent"

"Are you serious, Y/N?"

You gulp. Taehyung hisses like a snake.

"I want a fucking apology. On his fucking knees. Don't you think that I at least deserve it?"

You understand that the apology is necessary. You would want one if you were in Taehyung's shoe.

"I'll talk to him. If he apologizes, you'll drop the charges, right?" You ask with a weak but hopeful voice

"Yeah, sure" He answers with a distant tone

Getting arrested and spending twenty-four hours in custody is definitely not an experience Jungkook would recommande. He is tired and he wants to be alone now that he is free. Well, not so free because, as the police officers told him, there is a high chance he is going to prison for a few months.

His parents wanted him to go back home but, to be honest, Jungkook didn't want to face his dad's disappointment and his mom's hopelessness. He rather stays at his dorm and thinks about what he is going to do. Surely, no pro teams would recrute him. What will he do? What kind of jobs accept ex-con? Certainly not the ones he was aiming.

You lift up your head when you hear steps echoing the hallway. Jungkook didn't except to meet you in front of his dorm door. Normally, he would have teased you and would have made a bad joke about you were desperate for his dick if you were ready to wait at his dorm, but he has no energy for that.

"What are you doing here?" He asks with a sigh

It's painful to witness his exhausted face. It's even more painful not to see his usual stupid playfulness in his eyes. You used to hate it but now you miss it.

"Jungkook, you need to apologize to Taehyung" You notice how he tenses at the name "I talked to him, he will drop the charges if you say you're sorry"

Frustration grows in Jungkook while he opens his door. Does he have to repeat himself once again?

"Well, I won't apologize"

"Don't be ridiculous!" You scold him as you follow him inside his room

It's just as you've imagined it: full of trophies and photos with friends. Not so neat but not dirty at all. Just some mess here and there. It's a nice bedroom though: enough place for his desk, closet, bed of course and also a little couch. You easily can imagine Jungkook and the hockey team hanging out here with pizzas. Jungkook's dorm being the most recent one on the campus, he is lucky enough to have his private bathroom with toilets and shower — something you are jealous about.

"Listen, I'm tired and I want to be alone" Jungkook cuts you off, running his hands in his messy hair as he sits on his bed

"Are you seriously willing to give up your life, your future, everything for your pride?!" You yell at him, frustration exploding inside you

"This is not about pride, Y/N!" He yells back "I was right to punch him and I would do it again if I had to. I am not apologizing"

"You are stupid then" You state with your arms crossed on your chest

"Fucking leave then" He snaps back with a harsh tone

You stay silent for a while, quite hurt by his words even though you could understand that he was not the most patient person right now. It was just normal after being arrested.

"Do you really want me to leave?" You ask with a weak and gentle voice

Jungkook looks at you, noticing some hurt in your eyes, and then sighs.

"No, I'm sorry"

"It's okay" You assure him while you are sitting next to him on his bed "I'm sorry too. I just don't want to you to go to prison" You explain and wrap your arm around his large shoulders, which is not easy to do

Jungkook grabs your comforting hand on his shoulder and squeezes it lightly. The coldness of his fingers are somewhat heartbreaking. Was he cold when he was in custody? Was he treated good?

"Why?"

The question is simple, yet the answer isn't. Why are you so worried about him? There is a simple explanation but you are just not ready to confess it. Not to him, not to you.

"You're my friend" You simply answer

You both know it's not true. Jungkook and you are not friends. Ennemis would be more accurate. Or was more accurate. What are you now?

Jungkook scoffs at your words. The proximity between your two bodies is dangerous. His dark eyes are too intense, his face is too close and he is just too appealing. You gulp and scoot away.

"Why are you suddenly nice to me?" Jungkook asks but it sounds like a reproach

"What do you mean?" You frown

"You always treat me like an idiot and now, you care about me? Why?" He presses, suspicion well noticeable in his voice and it takes you aback "Because of Taehyung?"

What?

You are as surprised by assumptions as by your absence of thoughts about Taehyung. The actor hasn't crossed your mind once. How can it be possible when your brain is filled by Jungkook himself?

"Come on! You have been all over him ever since he has stepped foot here! You think I haven't heard you talking about him with your friends during practice?" He says harshly, clearly blaming you as if you had betrayed him

"Taehyung has nothing to do with that!" You defend yourself but for Jungkook, it sounds like you are defending Taehyung

Once again, he scoffs and stands up, which you mimic. Jungkook is mad, that's for sure. For what? That, you don't know. But it irritates you that he is pushing you away while all you want to do is help him.

"Of course!" He chuckles with sarcasm "You just want him to be out of trouble, right? That's why you want this whole story to stay quiet!"

"You are talking non-sense! You are the one acting like a dumb-ass just because you don't want to apologize!"

You are starting to get angry. Jungkook is back to his usual stupid self and it drives you mad, not because he irritates you but because his life is at stake.

"And I won't apologize!" Jungkook points out, crossing his arms against his chest just like he was daring you to make him change his mind

Your growl with frustration.

"Why don't you understand that I'm not doing this for Taehyung?!" You yell

"Because you fucking came all the way here to ask me to fucking apologize! Why would you do that if it's not for Taehyung, uh?"

He won't understand. He won't believe you, not matter what you say. You get that now. You are so furious — at him for not believing you and at you for not finding the right words — that your eyes get watery. There is only one thing you can do to make him understand.

You grab the back of his neck and pull him down to press your lips on his. Jungkook tenses at first but when your tongue asks the access of his mouth, his body relaxes and his hands find their way on your hips. You scoot closer, holding him tight because he was so roughly taken from you yesterday. You are now afraid that someone snatches him again and you won't allow that.

You tug on his hair and Jungkook squeezes your ass as your kiss gets heated. It's messy but full of emotions — which ones being unsure to you. Jungkook guides you towards his bed but you resist a little, just to take off his sweater and t-shirt underneath.

Fuck, he is too hot. As an athlete, you knew he had a great body but seeing it... It brings all kind of butterflies in your belly because Jeon Jungkook is definitely a hottie. His shoulders are large, his biceps are huge and his abs... they look so delicious that you want to lick them. He is even sexier with his tattoos.

However, you don't have time to admire him because Jungkook wants to see your body too. He helps you slide your coat off, and your pullover. Your bra joins the slack of clothes in no time. You moan when Jungkook cups your boobs and you shiver because his hands are cold. You arche your back, inviting him to wrap his mouth around your nipples. He doesn't go softly. He is rough but you like it. You feel like a pool of arousal in your panties, it's almost embarrassing.

Once again, Jungkook's hands find their way to your ass, squeezing it to the point it hurts. You replicate by pulling on his hair and you both growl in each other's mouth. When he tilts his head so he can suck on your neck, your hands travel South, not forgetting to caress his brawn torso, to reach his pants and unbutton his jeans. You know don't when or how he got to change his clothes but it doesn't matter because they will be gone soon.

You pull on his pants, urging Jungkook to get naked. As he is taking care of his clothes, you clumsily throw your UGGs away before ridding off of your leggings. Jungkook and you are only covered by your underwear and fuck, he is a sight... His bulge is clearly noticeable and oh my god, he seems huge.

"Take that off" He says with a raspy and sexy voice and you execute

If you think that Jungkook is a fine piece, the hockey player is completely whipped right now. You are so beautiful, all naked in front of him. He doesn't even know where to look because you are perfect everywhere.

He steps closer, caging you so you have no choice but to step on his bed while he is still standing in front of you. His plump and pinkish lips are great but you want to taste more of him. You get on all fours to be at the same level as his dick. When Jungkook understands what you are willing to do, he curses and bites his lower lip. He watches you sliding your hand in his brief and reach for his hard length. It's your turn to curse when you free his cock and finally witness how big he is. It's intimidating but you are one to accept challenges.

That is why you waste no time and wrap your warm mouth around his tip. A salty dry of pre cum lands on your tongue and you hums in delight. Your right hand rests at his base so you can take more of him easily. You love how your mouth feels wide opened for Jungkook. You love it so much that you quickly push your gag reflex. His tip hits the back of your throat, yet you can't take him entirely in your mouth — that's how huge Jungkook's cock is.

He is looking at you with fire in his eyes. You are so fucking hot like that, especially when you look up at him with those innocent eyes while his cock in your mouth. The saliva coating your lips are a sin and Jungkook's hips move automatically, pushing deeper in your throat.

"Fuck, you are so good" He praises "A good fucking slut, right?"

You nod as you can't speak with his dick stuffing your mouth, completely lost in your pleasure. You have no self-control on your body right now and your juices drop down your inner thighs. You want to touch yourself because of how turned on you are. Jungkook too look at your whole body and his eyes land on your ass. Perfect, tempting — especially when your arche your back to suck him off. A loud slap falls on your asscheek, provoking a long moan from you around Jungkook's dick. His tattooed hand rests on your butt and pats it before harshly grabbing it.

"Please fuck me" You beg when your pool of arousal is too much to take

Jungkook pushes his cock back in your mouth, so deep that you choke on it, and slightly bends to slide one finger in your pussy. It feels so fucking good. His middle finger is pumping you at a fast pace, making you lose your last remains of reason. Your walls tighten around his digit like they want to have more, to be more stretched. And Jungkook might understands because he provides a harsh dick stroke to your mouth — hot and naughty gagging sounds fill his room — and pushes a second finger in your cunt.

Drool escapes your lips, coating your chin and Jungkook's balls, the exact same way your arousal drops from your throbbing pussy.

"You look like a fucking whore" Jungkook says but it looks like a compliment with his raspy voice My good whore, right?"

You don't see his face but you have no difficulty to imagine his cocky smirk. You want to bite back to him, arguing that you're not his whore but actually, you are... You are sucking his cock like a maniac because Jungkook surely and slyly makes you want to please him. You don't know how but despite your — former — hate toward him, you have this need to be close to him and let him access everything of you. Maybe because you also want to access everything of him.

You let go of his wet and large dick to take big cups of oxygen but it doesn't mean that Jungkook slows down his pace into your pussy. He even goes faster. You moan loudly before gripping his sheets with your fists and pressing your face down into the mattress. You strategically keep your ass up for him to finger you as much as he wants. Your cunt tightens, and it's worse when Jungkook uses his free hand to slap your asscheek. You gasp and clench around him.

"Are you going to cum for me?" He teases you, an arrogant pride so noticeable in his voice that you would like to deny your building orgasm just to prove him wrong but you can't

"Faster!" You ask

The hockey player grants your request, shaking your whole body through your poor little pussy. He goes so fast and so hard that you are not sure you'll ever be able to walk again. You can feel in your stomach that you are close. Your fists tighten around the cotton fabric of the sheets and you mutter your groan by burring your face.

"Cum, go on, be a good girl and cum"

Fuck, he is good with his words — and with his fingers. As he is pounding into your pussy, you can feel the knot in your stomach growing bigger and bigger until you explode, moaning something that looks like Jungkook's name. Your whole body shakes and your toes curl because Jungkook doesn't seem to want to stop. He prolongs your orgasm as long as he can, making it last for some long seconds until you can't take it anymore.

Your body jolts forward on its own to escape the overstimulation, earning a laugh from the hockey player. You are panting and trying to reach down to Earth. While you are in the fog of your sexual high, Jungkook takes his brief off completely and lays down on his bed. He gently pats your ass — on which he can notice slight red marks due to his spanking — and smirks. You are used to intense physical efforts and yet, you look completely drained.

"Are you going to survive?" Jungkook mocks and you throw a death stare at him

You have your strength back and you are not willing to let Jungkook makes fun of you. He looks so arrogant, laying on his bed with his arms crossed behind his head — you try to ignore how his posture accentuates his biceps and his abs. We'll see who laughs last laughs longest.

You straddle him, resting your knees on both sides of his hips. Your boldness makes Jungkook's smile lightly shakes. He is so cocky sometimes but he is not the only one who knows how to fuck. It's your turn to smirk and you do what you wanted to earlier: you lean down and take a big lap of his abs. You gloat when you feel his muscles flex under your tongue. When you reach his pecs, you suck on his skin and paint it with a purplish mark. You kiss it to soothe the pain away but you are sure that Jungkook didn't hurt too much because you clearly felt his dick throb between your legs during the hickey process.

"Did you lose your tongue?" You tease but you are answered by slap on your ass

An embarrassing loud moan escapes your mouth. You won't tolerate that. That's why to strongly grab Jungkook's cock at its base, squeezing it a little bit too much which causes a growl from the tattooed man, and sink on it. You breathe deeply and you slowly sit down. He definitely feels big. Both Jungkook and you have lost your smirk because you didn't except so much pleasure.

"Oh my god" You whisper

At the same time, Jungkook curses 'You are so fucking tight'. You support yourself on his torso, not moving yet because fuck, he is so big. It even cuts your breath. You try to regain your senses but you don't have time for that: Jungkook presses his feet on the mattress and uses his strong thighs to push his hips up. He gives you rough dick strokes, at a quick pace. Your moans are covered by the sinful sounds of your clapping skins.

"Fuck, Jungkook" You groan, falling on his torso

Jungkook's arms wrap around your frame, making sure you don't jolt too much because of his poundings, and he fucks you hard and deep. His cock slides perfectly into your cunt, coated with your arousal, and his balls slap your ass. It's perfect, that's for sure and your walls clench.

"Shit, don't do that" He scolds you but it's not like you can control your body's reactions to pleasure so you clenche even more "You little slut"

"You fuck me so good" You confess and you don't know why but your words spur Jungkook to give you a gentle kiss on the top of your head

You are surprised by the tender of his gesture while his cock bumps your pussy so harshly. You lift up your head, look at him. He is cute with his cheeks all blushed because of his efforts. You press your lips on his, wrapping your arms around his neck. You want to melt into him and Jungkook seems to want the same thing because his embrace tightens and he slows down his pace. His dick slides deep inside you, with passion, just like he was making love to you.

At that thought, you panic a little and you straighten up. You place your hands flat on his stomach and jump on his length. You have to take things under control — both the pace of your fucking and your emotions that are going wild. Your ass hits his lap every time you let yourself down until you take all of him inside you. Your head rolls back under the pleasure. You have never felt so full before. You fasten your pace, your tits bounce and your lungs burn due to your insane riding.

"Fuck, you are taking me so good" Jungkook praises and you hate how much your cunt clenches because you like it "You are a good girl for me, right sunshine?"

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

You have never loved the nickname this much. Your eyes fall on his face. His doe eyes are slightly opened, like he was stoned. Your heart beats faster in your chest and you know damn well it's not your physical efforts that cause it. Especially when Jungkook's fingertips softly caress your cheek. You are so glad that he can't say you blush like crazy because your face is already red.

"Kook, I—"

You stop talking when his free filthy and tattooed hand pinches your nipple. You are surprised and so pleased. You whine and alter your riding which gives a great opportunity to Jungkook to take control again.

"You are going to cum"

It's as much a promise as it's an order. You knew he was dominant but you didn't know that you would like it in bed. Your moans leave your lips a little shaken because of the harshness of Jungkook's poundings. Your cunt grabs his dick so tightly.

You don't know how it's possible but he quickens his pace. You don't know if you can survive it. It's just too fucking good. Jungkook grabs and squeezed your asscheeks, spreading them to fuck you deeper. His finger are too deep in your flesh that you'll have bruises for sure.

Your pussy throbs and you know that you are close. You shut your eyes close and whisper how good he feels. The way his length sketches your walls and the way it slides into you to hit that sweet spot, it's perfect. And the fact it's Jungkook among all the other men on Earth...

You can't support yourself anymore and fall on his torso, burying your face in the crook of his neck. The thin layer of sweat coating his skin only adds to the hotness of the scene.

"Make me cum" You urge him and he provides

He uses his remain strength to give you some deep and harsh poundings, spurred by some rough spanks on your ass.

"Fucking cum for me, sunshine"

You do. You cum on his huge cock and your juices drip down your inner thighs and his dick. You are so high, definitely on cloud nine. You bite Jungkook's neck to mutter your moans but it only pushes him to fuck you harder. It's a lot to take, the overstimulation is not far.

"Kook, cum" You weakly ask

"Fuck, baby" He growls and pulls off just in time to release his seeds on your ass

It was something. The best sex of your life. Jungkook can be arrogant because he fucks real nice.

You roll on the side, panting. You want to take a shower to get rid off of your sweat and of both your and Jungkook's cum but the hockey captain has other plans: he presses you against his side to cuddle. The sweet gesture reminds you why you were there in the first place. But your throat is dry — surely because you have screamed a lot, but maybe also because you are afraid to stop this little magic moment.

"Jungkook" You start softly "Please, don't go to prison"

You didn't know that words could be so painful. You feel it by the way your throat tightens.

The tattooed man sighs, not angrily like earlier but with resignation. That's when you get that Jungkook has made up his mind and he won't change it.

"Y/N, I won't apologize. Taehyung deserved this punch, trust me. And I won't forget myself if I apologize for something that is right to me" He tells you with a voice so sweet that you want to cry — or maybe it's because you know you will be separated soon

"But it's so unfair!" You whine, your heart squeezed in your chest

"Maybe, or maybe not. I have no regrets because I know I did the right thing and it was my choice so don't be sad, sunshine" He conforts you, caressing your back and pecking your head as you rest your cheek on his chest

You know that you will cry a lot. You also know that, whatever the sentence is, you will wait for him.

♡❆~❅~❆♡

You are waiting, your heart beating loud and fast in your ears. Today, for the first time in two months, you haven't thought about Jungkook. It's been two months since you last saw him, at the trial. He kept his promise and refused to apologize to Taehyung. You have been feeling like dying ever since he was sentenced to one year imprisonment. It was so unfair. You were ready to punch the actor in the face too. And you were mad at Jungkook because it looked like he was simply accepting his fate. You weren't accepting it.

You cried a lot and poured your soul into work and practice for the competition. And today is the big day. The Asian Universities Figure Skating Cup. You have done your best, you have done a very technical figure which surely brought you a lot of points from the jury. But mostly, you haven't thought about Jungkook. For the first day since the trial, you haven't been totally miserable.

And now, you are waiting for the result, the usual tension and stress of the competitions filling your body and your mind. You accept it with thankfulness today. You close your eyes and pray every gods. You want to win. You really, really want it. You are competitive, that's for sure. But you also want to win for Jimin and the whole Figure Skating Club. And mainly, you want to win for Jungkook because he won't ever be able to participate to a competition.

The loud buzzing in your ears doesn't allow you to hear your name when the first place is announced. You stay still until Jimin hugs you tight and whispers 'You have won!'. You still don't believe it when you look around you and your friends congratulate you. It's like a dream.

Did you really win the first place of an international competition? Yes, you did.

A bright smile paints your face and you join the podium next to the ice rink with weak and shaking legs. The gold medal is being put around your neck. You hear the crowd cheering, which is amazing. It's a very strong and emotional moment, maybe the most important one in your life so far. Your club, your university even, will be celebrated in whole South Korea. It's amazing and perfect and everything you have ever dreamt of. You have spent your whole life working and scarifying many things for that, this moment. You have spent days wondering how it could feel to be the winner of such a prestigious competition.

Never you have imagined that you wouldn't be happy.

You are proud, you feel loved, admired but you are sad. Now that the competition is done, Jungkook fills your brain and you are worrying about him. You feel alone while you are surrounded by so many people. You wonder if he is okay, if he is beaten up by other prisoners. The tears roll down your cheeks, interpreted as happy tears from everyone else. They are not.

A huge bouquet of flowers is brought to you. It's so big that you can't even see the person giving it to you but it's the most beautiful bouquet you have ever seen. When you take it in your hands, ready to automatically and politely thank the person in charge of that mission, your heart stops and the bouquet escapes your fingers.

Jungkook.

Are you dreaming? What is he doing here? Are you officially going insane? Maybe the adrenaline rush is messing with your brain. However, even if it's just a mirage, you jump into his arms. You are not scared to harshly hit the floor if you have imagined him.

But you never hit the floor. Jungkook's strong arms are securely wrapped around your frame and he hugs you tightly yet tenderly. You cry with your face buried in his neck. You missed him, so fucking much. You would have laughed five months ago, if someone told you that you would miss the hockey team captain so much. And here you are.

"Are you okay? What are you doing here? Are you hurt? Were you treated well? What about prison? Are you free? How?" You throw thousands of questions in a few seconds

"I missed you" He simply replies, like it is explaining everything

When Jungkook cups your face, you finally get to see him. He looks tired but he doesn't look wounded. He is beautiful. So, so beautiful that your heart misses a beat.

You waste no time and press your lips on his. They are cold but you don't care because your whole body warms up. Just like you were stuck into an ice cube during the last two months and you are finally free. You circle his waist with your arms, afraid he'll disappear.

"Don't leave me ever again" You order but your voice is weak and your eyes are still watery

"I won't, I promise" He whispers with so much gentleness that you are not sure you're awake "I'm free and I'll explain everything to you later. Now, enjoy your victory, sunshine"

Sunshine. You hated so much this pet name before because you thought Jungkook was making fun of you. Now, looking into his black and shining eyes, you know that he is not. He truly sees you like his sun. You can see he has fallen in love with you and he is not lying when he is saying that he'll wait for you. You don't even care why or how he went out of jail, he is free and it's all that matters.

Jungkook loves you and...

"I love you" You tell him after kissing him one last time before shaking hands with the jury and the organizers of the Asian Universities Figure Skating Cup, a bright and genuine smile on your lips

Taglist @chimmisbae

Guys, I'm so so sorry for the wait. I've got problems with Tumblr but I'm back 🩷

[junichan]

Dirty Monkey (Platonic SWK x Reader)

Summery: A regrettable insult leads Reader to give the Monkey King a bath and a little TLC.  

The Wukong in this story is based on Monkey King Reborn, and heavily inspired by @celestialkiri’s and @sixteenthchapel’s monkey boys. (I love their art and AUs so much, omg!) I also think calling the self-insert character ‘Reader’ is terribly clever, so I used that here.

Warnings / Triggers: None, a brief mention of naked monkey butt.

Reader overhears Wukong and Bajie bickering and throwing insults at each other as per usual. It’s a normal occurrence early in the journey. Most of the time these barbs roll off their backs and the only ones really bothered by their antagonism is Tang Sanzang, who just wants his disciples to get along. But this time Bajie goes a little too far.

“Dirty monkey,” Bajie sneers.

There’s an instant of silence, as if everyone knows he’s crossed a line, even Bajie. He starts to open his mouth to backtrack, even as Wukong’s expression goes frighteningly cold. The monkey’s muscles tense, his lips pulling back from his teeth. He’s ready to maul his fellow disciple.

“THAT’S ENOUGH.” Reader’s voice is rarely so loud. It crashes over them, crushing the tension with the force of a shockwave. There’s even a growl to her voice. The surprise is enough to break Wukong’s momentum; he’s never heard that tone of voice from Reader before.

Wukong will never admit it out loud but he loves these little hints of the steel in Reader’s spine.

“Both of you need to cool it,” Reader continues, fixing Bajie with a glare that makes him shuffle self-consciously before turning it on Wukong. The monkey huffs, refusing to feel reproached. But at least he decides to walk away, rather than continuing to fight or argue.

A few days later the travelers stop for a rest. Wukong has been even more abrasive and distant to the others than usual. While the rest of the little group is making camp, Reader finds the monkey some distance away, glaring at the horizon with his back hunched and the fur on the back of his neck bristled. Wuknong refuses to admit it but clearly Bajie’s crack about his hygiene hurt his pride.

That’s when Reader grabs his arm and pulls him off. Wukong of course tries to shrug her off, snapping at her to leave him alone. (He’s a king after all, he’s not about to be dragged around by his elbow like a child.) But Reader insists that he must come with her somewhere and her persistence gets him curious enough to relent.

She takes him to a secluded natural pool, and that’s when Wukong notices the little wooden bucket Reader brought along. She intends to make him bathe. He clues in really quick and can’t help feeling a little dejected.

“So you think I’m dirty too.”

He’s about to call her an idiot and go back to brooding on his own somewhere when she stops him.

“No. You just stink. You’re covered in dried blood and who knows what else from the last ten demons you fought.”

She’s got a point, as much as he hates to admit it. He tries grabbing the bucket from her, insisting that he wash without her supervision, but she keeps it out of his reach. Once again curiosity - and the not-so-secret fact that Wukong’s going a little soft on Reader - gets the better of him. Even so he grumbles as he allows himself to be ushered into the cool, clear water.

Wukong thinks shucking his clothes will scare the human woman off, and it does embarrass her enough to politely look the other way, but she doesn’t leave. (Don’t worry, Reader doesn’t see anything besides his bare backside for a few seconds. This is a SFW story. Also, LOL, monkey butt.)

To his surprise, Reader wades in after him. He tries not to look too interested in what she’s doing. He even tries objecting again when she takes some soap out of the bucket. But as soon as her gentle hands start working the sweet-smelling soap into his fur the demon monkey practically melts.

Neither of them say anything as Reader slowly and carefully washes Wukong’s back. It reminds him very much of when he was home on Flower Fruit Mountain. All the monkeys in the troop would groom each other, for both hygiene and socialization, and as the highest-ranking monkey of them all he was always given the most attention. There was a reason he was called ‘Handsome Monkey King’ after all. Back home he had been almost meticulous about taking care of his appearance, but since being on the road it had seemed less important.

So Wukong kneels in the water, while Reader stands behind him. The feeling of the human’s fingers gently working the blood and dust off his fur feels really, really good. The cool water is refreshing, and the soap smells a little like jasmine and sandlewood. Having someone groom him makes him feel like a real king again. And more than that it makes him feel a little homesick.

After a while, he can’t help but wonder out loud, “Why are you doing this?”

Reader pauses for a moment. She’s behind him so Wukong can’t see her smile, but he can hear it in her voice as she explains, “A dirty monkey is a monkey that’s unwanted and unloved. You are neither of those things, and I don’t want you to forget that.” Her arms encircle him from behind, and he feels her cheek press against the top of his head while she hugs him.

Wukong can’t remember the last time he was told he was loved and wanted so directly. Or the last time someone dared to embrace him! Certainly, it was long before he was imprisoned under a mountain for 500 years. For a moment he’s stunned into uncharacteristic speechlessness. Then he scoffs to cover the awkward moment of sentimentality. “Tch. Don’t be stupid. I know what I am.” The usual edge to Wukong’s voice isn’t as sharp, and the hand that he places over Reader’s gives the smallest, softest squeeze. Quietly he admits, “…It’s nice to be reminded though.”

The Monkey King won’t say the words, but Reader knows that he means ‘thank you’. And she’s glad to have lifted Wukong’s spirit a little.

Before the moment can get any more awkward, Reader steps back and grabs the bucket to rinse Wukong off - by dumping the bucket of water over his head!

“Hey!!” The demon sputters, shaking water from his eyes as he turns to glare at Reader. But she’s laughing so much it’s hard to stay angry and he starts chuckling too. He gets her back as they’re moving toward the shore by shaking the water off his fur and soaking her in the process.

They stay by the pool for the rest of the afternoon. While they dry off Reader washes Wukong’s clothes too. (And discovers the Monkey King never bothered to learn how to wash them himself. ‘That was what servants are for.’ No wonder they were so gross!) By the time they rejoin the others, Sun Wukong looks like a brand new demon.

Bajie immediately protests that it isn’t fair that Brother Monkey got a glow up, which strokes Wukong’s ego even more. The whole ‘dirty monkey’ slight is well behind him now.

After that, the Monkey King became a lot more mindful about the state of his fur and clothes while on the road. Every so often Wukong would plop himself down in front of Reader with his back to her. He wouldn’t say anything, but they both knew it was a silent request / demand for some grooming. Sometimes Reader found it a little annoying, especially if she was in the middle of something, but she always indulged him, combing her fingers through his fur until it was silky soft.

He never forgot what Reader said. He would make sure that no one ever had the chance to imply he was dirty. Sun Wukong was loved and wanted, and everyone should know it just by looking at him.

[witch128chick]

Hello hi! Well... are we ready?

Thanks to Them

So we left off with the kids being traumatised. Now they're here all helping around the house, and their efforts are all appreciated even if they don't know what a tea filter is

Love the setup here. The two in the background know about each other's secrets and promised to keep them

Said secrets are eating them alive tho and they live in constant fear that their crush/girlfriend will hate them if they were to find out

In conclusion: they're looking at their love interests who don't even suspect what's being hidden from them. And the terrifying fear of being hated by the person you love is haunting them

You see it could be anyone sitting at the table. But it's Amity and Willow specifically just to make Luz and Hunter's guilt sting even more

Idk what this thing is called but Gus, i relate, it's an amazing creation! Sad it's limited

(One time we spent a whole afternoon poking (???) these things bc there was new furniture bought so yea. I never wanted to stop poking haha)

Also look at Hunter's big bro expression! Love their brother dynamic sm

Isn't it called some bubble thingy? Bubble wrap or smth? Ughhh

Nice team work girls you successfully killed an alarm clock! Either way, it's nice to see them work together and being friends again

This little note is adorable 🥺💗

So many tiny Luzs!!! 😭🫶🏼

Love the one on the right where she's measuring her height. The hair counts too!!!

Can i just say 😞 how good it is to see them be friends again 😞 i am... emotional.

Such a sweet moment fr!!!

Camila is best mom

Amity finally has a loving mother figure in her life. Girl needed that a lot 🙏🏼

Also love illusion-Gus coming out of the fridge 😆

Everyone drew their families. And then there's Hunter.

Love their height differences btw

And their different art styles!

I'm coming back soon!

[jaggedamethyst]

circuit breaker 🔬🌌 (part one)

tutor!jayce talis x reader, modern college au

content: reader is forced to take gen ed classes in order to graduate college. this unfortunately includes physics for which you desperately need a tutor for...jayce talis happens to need community service and is available to help. (references to adhd/neurodivergence in this chapter, that’s all)

notes: hiii. as i am on my indefinite break from golden boy, i wanted to start something else bc the yearn for jayce content can only be filled as long as i work to preserve him myself... so here’s my first official series!! double note, while this is modern, i still want to keep hints and references to the show/characters so they’re believable! so if you see viktor talking in a way that seems unnatural with dialogue, its just my smarty pants bf being his smart self with vast vocabulary. 🤍

word count: 1.5k

series masterlist here

。·:*:·ﾟ★,。·:*:·ﾟ☆　　 。·:*:·ﾟ★,。·:*:·ﾟ☆

The absolute worst part of college is being forced to take the general education classes simply to graduate. You were an arts major, there was no reason for you to be cramming your brain with math equations so many years after high school—and yet here you were. Unfortunately, you waited until later in your university career to take on the required course load, and now you were stuck in one of the only classes with availability that worked with your schedule—physics. The thought of the class alone made your head hurt. The only upside was having it with a friend, albeit much more skilled at the subject, Viktor was always welcome company. 

“I hate these weekly quizzes, I genuinely cannot afford to fail another one.” 

Viktor chuckled, “The subject matter isn’t that difficult…” 

“We can’t all be geniuses, Viktor.” 

“Yes, some of us are more skilled than others, I’d say.” He moved to gather his books, the class having ended. 

You mirrored his action, packing your bag as you spoke to him. “Natural skill or not, this shit is actually dumb…makes me feel dumb.” 

“You are not dumb,” he reassured you, “It can be a lot to comprehend.” 

You shuffled through the aisle, following behind Viktor as he moved toward the exit. “It’s these gen ed classes…why do I need to understand physics for liberal arts. Granted, I know the school is more tech based…but I changed my major! I should be free of the shackles of math by now.” You wiped a hand over your face, clearly exasperated. 

You matched Viktor’s steps, picking up a bit to open the door for him. The slight breeze of the outside air brushed over you—cooling the heat that you didn’t realize was there. A breath left you, exhaling the bubbling rage in you. 

Viktor reached a hand toward your shoulder, grasping it with a firm encouragement. “You will conquer physics. Natural skill…or not.” He smiled again, a teasing tone on his voice. 

“Viktor!” You swatted his hand away, “I hate you! Could you at least offer a solution? These quizzes are literally every week. What’s the point of checking my comprehension if I know I’m gonna fail-“ 

“Listen, you will not fail. In fact,” he paused, “I have a solution for this little conflict.” 

“The solution being?” 

He stopped walking, an obvious look on his face, “Get a tutor.” 

A scoff, “Yeah right. I’m not in middle school. I don’t need a tutor, Viktor.” You started walking again, “Besides, why can’t you just help me—you’re all the tutor I need!” 

“I have quite a bit on my plate this term already. I have two labs, recitations, and work-“ 

“Which is just code for find time to see Sky, got it.” 

He didn’t reply to that, not directly. But the way he blushed and looked away was indication enough. Viktor explained before that he and Sky have known each other practically their whole lives. They always saw each other around; the fact that they ended up at the same school was purely by fate, or chance, Viktor would say. That was, despite the relatively high probability with there being so few state schools. 

He changed the subject, leading you across the street. “I know someone who would be willing to help. He mentioned needing community service.” 

“Fine, I guess…” 

“Good, because we’re here.” 

You looked up, the student resource center labeled clearly in front of you. The prospect of walking in was already daunting. You loved independence and it often came at the expense of feeling incompetent when you had to ask for help. You confided in Viktor about that before. He figured the best way was to just show up, not giving you the opportunity to get yourself worked up and find an excuse to not go. 

He opened the door, tilting his head towards the inside. “You got this.” 

You shook your head, the idea making you nauseous. He returned the motion, this time shaking his head. You can do this. 

It took a second, but you finally walked in, Viktor slightly on your trail. “He should be here, he told me he would be.” He continued as you nodded silently, “Oh, there he is.” 

His back was to you, speaking to a woman he seemed to be friendly with. His shoulders were wide, making her barely visible to you from this angle—but she was undoubtedly stunning. You couldn’t help but acknowledge the way they so enthusiastically spoke. You didn’t want to interrupt, that would be embarrassing, torturous, even. Instead, you turned to the desk, eyeing the receptionist. She seemed to be close to your age…which somehow made you even more nervous—gosh. 

“Hi…” You cleared your throat, “Hi, I wanted to ask about tutoring? Like for physics?” 

Viktor nodded behind you, proud of the seemingly small gesture. He knew this was actually an immense step for you. 

The receptionist greeted you back, “We do have physics tutoring available! There are a few student volunteers, but we usually assign according to those with a more free schedule…” She looked to her left, pointing to the QR code that faced toward you. “You can register here, it’s fairly quick and someone…” she locked onto the man across from her, still mid conversation. “Someone should be able to help you get started today actually…Jayce!” 

You turned to see the man pause his conversation, a brow raising at his name being called. Recognition flashed in your direction as well, “Oh hey, Viktor.” 

“Hello, Jayce.” 

The man walked up to the counter, a more annoyed tone and body language accompanied him, then. It wasn’t genuine, but rather one out of familiarity, like he and the receptionist had known each other a while. It was quite jovial, actually. “What do you want, Cait?” 

She rolled her eyes at that, “Someone needs a tutor,” she smiled at you before looking to him with a grimace, “You’re a tutor, correct?” 

He shrugged, “I need community service.” 

“Great, so you two are a match, then.” 

Your phone suddenly became rather interesting—the simple intake form immediately became numerous pages long and excessively tedious. You felt his eyes on you, though, and saw a hand out towards you in your peripheral. “Nice to meet you…Jayce.” 

You looked up finally, reaching to shake his outstretched hand. The only thing that came to you was your name—first and last, simple. 

He half smiled, echoing your reply, “Jayce Talis. I like the formality.” He chuckled, dropping your hand. 

You looked back silently at Viktor, a sort of terror on your face. He spoke then, “I should be going. Shouldn’t these two have their introductory meeting now?” He observed your twisted facial expression, looking towards the desk for a reply. 

She nodded, “Great idea! It’s a short one, just getting to know one another and scheduling for later. You can use that room right there,” she looked at the computer in front of her for confirmation, “It should be empty for a few more minutes!” She motioned her hands for you two to hurry along. The man, Jayce…Jayce Talis…walked over and spoke to the woman he’d been talking to before. You couldn’t hear them, but observed the way he rubbed her arm before reaching for a hug. You tried not to stare, but you weren’t entirely familiar with the resource center and he was supposed to be leading you, you thought. 

You trailed behind Jayce, turning back to see Viktor. He stood with a hand on his cane, the other with a thumbs up to you. You nodded, rubbing your hands awkwardly at your sides. You watched as Jayce opened the door, stepping back to let you in first. That was nice. You held a tight smile, a pleasantry you’d grown accustomed to displaying in uncomfortable situations such as this one. 

Both of you sat down, a brief silence filling the room. Jayce spoke first, “So what brings you to tutoring?” 

You swallowed, “I am not great at physics…I’m pretty bad at it actually…and Viktor said you could help.” 

He nodded, “You two are friends?” 

“Yeah, we met a while back. How do you know each other?” 

“Lab partners, same major, rest is history.” 

“Right…” A huff from you and the shuffle of Jayce reaching in his pocket were the only sounds in the room. 

“So,” he scrolled on his phone, “You noted you have a hard time focusing. Is it just this class?” 

“Not just physics, no. I have a hard time paying attention in general. Bad memory, disorganized brain, the works. Makes retaining the information really hard as you can imagine.”

“I get that, but we can work on that…find things that help you remember a bit better…make it more interesting.” 

You could only blink as a response. This was the first time you could recall, besides with close friends, that someone didn’t make you feel extremely weird for not being able to stay focused. You often skipped from one topic to the next, forgetting your starting point. Conversations would float away from you, or you’d get too emotionally invested. People would call you loud, random, even. You appreciated that Jayce replied simply, concisely, offering a solution. Sure, it was his job…kind of…but it felt pretty good. 

“Thank you.” 

“Sure.” 

He went over a few more questions with you—referring to the intake form you’d filled out on your phone. In no time, you had set a meeting time for the following day. 

Both of you stood, collecting your bags. 

“See you tomorrow?” 

“Tomorrow.” 

part two

[ayyy-pee]

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Pairing: Suguru Geto x Female Reader

Summary: Who knew it only took two seconds of spooning for your fiance to want more?

Story Warning: Smut, Vaginal Sex, Creampie (don't try this at home), Fluff, Smut, Thigh Fucking, Fingering, Suguru in loooooove,

Suguru art by: Ilameys (Twitter, IG, Patreon)

AN: Just a quick lil drabble fluff smut piece idk it was stuck in my head for days and i had to get it out so hope you like it. i literally don't even know what i put here. i'm in love with Suguru with my whole heart i NEED TO MARRY HIM IMMEDIATELY

It’s been a long day. You’re sitting in bed, frantically finishing up a work email after your shower. In the bathroom, you hear the water running, your fiance finishing up his own shower before you both turn in for the night. Your tired eyes skim through the email you’ve drafted for your client to send tomorrow. Everything looks up to par so you hit save, exiting your email app and moving on to check your social media apps. Next to your bed, the door to the bathroom opens, the warm steam of your fiance’s shower filling the room.

“Fuuuuuuucking shit, I’m so tired,” he sighs as he steps into the bedroom. He wraps a small towel around the ends of his long raven hair and squeezes, trying to get every bit of water out of his tresses before lying down. He knows how much you hate him going to sleep with wet hair.

“Satoru pissed off the higher ups at work today and I spent the whole day cleaning up his mess,” he complains as he crosses the room. “So pissed I missed our dinner because of it. I’m sorry again, love.”

You plug your phone into its charger and set it on your bedside table, slipping under the covers in your bed. Your fiance makes his way to your dresser, a towel draped loosely around his waist. It hangs just right, the sexy “V” of his hips holding your attention as he vents about his day. He turns to reach into his drawer, pulling out a pair of boxer briefs and putting them on before tossing his towels into the laundry hamper.

“I’m sorry, babe,” you say, holding out your hand to beckon your fiance to bed. A small smile spreads across his lips as he watches you, eyes full of adoration and he moves towards you. The bed dips with his added weight as he climbs on. He kisses you sweetly just before he lays down. His warm arms wrap around your figure as you snuggle closer to your fiance beneath the blankets, the warmth of his body pressed against your back only adding to your coziness. It’s been a long day for you both and you’re ready to just close your eyes. 

However, it seems your fiance has other plans in mind.

“Suguru…” you murmur as he tightens his hold on you. “I thought you were tired.”

He hums behind you, burying his face in the crook of your neck, planting soft kisses along your skin. “I am, baby, but I haven’t seen you all day. I just missed you.” His voice is a whisper, husky and wanting and you know you won’t be getting any sleep any time soon. Suguru’s hand ghosts along the side of your body, until it rests on the curve of your hips. He squeezes gently as his lips graze the shell of your ear. His warm breath fans across your face and you melt, already feeling your body react to his touch.

Suguru grips your waist before rolling his hips up against your ass and you gasp softly, feeling how hard he already is when he’s barely touched you. 

“Missed you so much today. I had to stop myself from stroking my dick in the shower thinking about you,” Suguru admits. “Wanted to wait until I could get you like this.” His confession stokes a fire in your belly, your arousal already dripping into your panties.

It’s always like this. Takes absolutely nothing for you two to get started, your natural attraction to each other pulling you together like magnets the moment you’re in the same room.

“Suguru,” you sigh, reaching back to snake your fingertips into Suguru’s damp hair as he licks your pulse point, biting gently and earning a soft gasp from you. With a smirk, he rolls his hips forward again, evidence of his arousal pressing into your ass.

“Hmm?” Suguru hums, licking, biting and sucking at your neck until you’re writhing and the sounds of you panting fill the air.

“Suguru, touch me…” You can feel how hot you are through your panties, how your arousal is beginning to soak through the fabric. And Suguru can too because when his fingers slide beneath the waistband of your clothes and to your slick folds, his mouth falls open slightly.

“I’ve barely touched you. You’re soaked, baby,” he marvels. “Shit, take these off or you’re gonna ruin them.” He slips his hand out of your shorts and tugs them down your legs until they’re low enough for you to kick them off. When you’re settled again, Suguru brings his mouth to your ear and runs his tongue along the shell. “I want you so fucking bad right now, you have no idea.”

You let out a whine that quickly turns into a moan when you feel Suguru slip his hand between your legs again. Your eyes sink closed as you breathe deeply, reveling in the feeling of Suguru’s fingertips brushing against your cunt. Suguru kisses his way up your neck, the sharp edges of his teeth grazing your skin until his lips brush against your ear once more.

“Wanna make you feel good tonight, baby,” he whispers to you, his fingers deftly finding your clit and circling the nub.

“Please, ah- Suguru, yes. Make me feel good,” you whimper.

Suguru grunts behind you. “Fuck, baby,” he groans, as he grinds against you again.

You let go of your hold on Suguru’s hair, hand finding his wrist and holding tight.

“You like that, baby?” He asks, voice rough with need.

You nod, another moan rushing past your lips when Suguru rolls his hips against your ass again and again.

“Use your words, baby.”

“Yes, shit, yes, Suguru. I love it,” you mewl, your grip tightening around his wrist.

At the sound of his name on your tongue, Suguru’s fingers slide into you. You moan, back arching on reflex as your walls clench around him. Your ass presses against Suguru’s cock and he rolls his hips forward again, moaning in return. Suguru increases his pace, his finger brushing against your center. You can feel the wetness pool between your legs, spreading between your thighs as Suguru’s hand brings you closer and closer to your peak. 

Then suddenly, he stops.

Your eyes snap open as you feel Suguru pull away, your body shivering at the loss of his warmth. You hear him shuffling around behind you for a few seconds, followed by the sound of a soft thud. In the dim lighting of the room, you can’t tell what just hit the floor. 

And then Suguru is back, body pressed against you again and you know. You feel the heat of his bare skin pressing against you, the thickness and length of his hard cock, sticky with precum sitting against your ass. Your heart races in anticipation of him filling you, stretching you deliciously and then fucking you until you can’t see straight. 

But he doesn’t. 

“Lift your leg a little for me,” he commands. And you do, spreading your legs and shuddering when you hear the smack of your soaked thighs separating. “So fucking wet,” Suguru coos as he adjusts himself to lay back on his side. “Just for me.” You feel him press his cock to your core and you shiver, waiting for him to push into you. Instead, he puts a hand on your lifted leg and pushes your legs closed.

You’re confused. He just wants to put his dick between your thighs? That’s…new.

“Suguru, what are you doing?” You ask, turning to look at him. He gives you a smug grin as he peers down at you, swiping his hand over his forehead to move sweaty strands away.

“Told you I wanted to make you feel good.” He doesn’t elaborate yet, just presses closer and shifts his hips until his length sits right between your folds, hot and heavy against your clit. “I want you to fuck yourself on my cock until you cum.”

Your core throbs with excitement. You’re happy to oblige, but –

“What about you?” You question.

Suguru leans forward, pressing a kiss to your temple. “We’ll worry about me later.”

His large hand finds your hips again and he pushes you forward slowly before he pulls you back into him. Like this, you feel every ridge and vein of Suguru’s cock slide back and forth across your clit and you gasp loudly at this new sensation. It feels incredible.

“Oh–” you breathe.

“Feel good, baby?”

“Yes…so, so good.”

Suguru rolls your hips forward and back again, moaning roughly as he kisses your jaw. The feeling is otherworldly, Suguru’s length stroking your nub just right with every roll of your hips. It’s hard to breathe as your release inches closer and closer with each thrust. The room fills with your moans and Suguru keeps pushing and pulling you into hips until the sound that emits from between your legs is downright sinful. 

“You’re so wet, it’s driving me fucking insane,” he grunts, his hand coming up to grab your breast through the fabric of your shirt. He runs his thumb over the hardened bud, grinning when you gasp.

“I’m gonna…ah- gonna cum, Suguru, I’m so close.”

“Cum baby, cum on my cock. Fuck it until you cream all over it,” Suguru groans as he presses his face into the crook of your neck. He smacks your ass, earning a sharp cry from you, but the pain only adds to the delicious pleasure that shoots through your body as your release crashes over you.

Your thighs clamp down around Suguru’s cock, squeezing and trembling as your orgasm rips through you. Suguru pulls his face from your neck to watch as you lose yourself in the moment and he thinks about how damn beautiful you are when you’re all fucked out like this. So pretty when you’re a good girl and cum all over his cock when he asks you to. This is what he’s held out for. He loves to cum with you, but he loves to watch you come undone more.

Suguru loves the way your eyes close, and your mouth falls open with tiny gasps as you let the sensation wash over you. He loves the way he can feel your pussy throbbing against him as you cum. Loves the way he can feel your hole twitching, clenching around nothing, trying desperately to suck him in and –

Fuck he’s gonna cum.

The feeling shoots up his spine in a rush and it’s by sheer luck that Suguru is able to pull his hips back and push his entire length into you easily, so wet from your release. You moan loudly, the feeling of him filling you, stretching you so deliciously so intense that it rips another orgasm from you before you’ve had time to catch your breath.

And Suguru is right there with you. His mouth falls open, loud groans mixing with your cries as he bottoms out over and over, filling you with thick, hot ropes of his cum. He kisses your temple as he pumps you full, breathing sweet words to you.

“I can never get enough of you…fucking love you…can’t wait to marry you,” he grunts, pushing into you, trying to bury his cock as deep as he can. “Can’t wait to make you my wife. Can’t wait to put a ring on your finger, put a baby in you, make you mine forever.”

He moans into your hair, still fucking into you slowly, draining himself of everything he has to offer. “God, you’re so fucking tight. Greedy little cunt is sucking me in so deep. Such a good girl for me, taking all my cum. Fuck, you’re so good to me, baby.”

You can’t do anything but try to catch your breath, chest rapidly rising and falling as you come down from your release with Suguru. When you’re both able to breathe again, Suguru kisses you sweetly on your cheek as he lays back down. He wraps his arms around your form, pressing himself into your back.

“Ugh, we should shower,” you insist, feeling both your cum mixing between your thighs. It makes you shiver. “I won’t be able to sleep until I get cleaned up.”

Suguru sits up excitedly, a dumb smirk on his face. “Good. We can make a mess one more time, then.”

You laugh as your fiance climbs on top of you, settling between your legs and you can feel he’s already hard again. “Suguru…”

“Didn’t I say I could never get tired of you?” He says, brown eyes full of lust and love. And you love him, your future husband. “So yes or no?”

“Yes, always yes,” you tell him, pulling him down for a deep kiss, tongues tangling together as Suguru pushes into you one more time.

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[lou-struck]

The Hall Of Faces

Diavolo x reader x Barbatos

WC: 2.9k

~ After a trip through the palace’s art gallery, you find that a picture of Diavolo may need to be updated.

Warnings: Mention of eating humans, moments with both Barbatos and Diavolo showing their love of the reader.

No matter how many times you find yourself visiting the castle, you can't help but think it is one of the most beautiful places you have ever seen.

Despite being thousands of years old, its gleaming marble flooring looks brand new, and the historic art and statues line the halls with museum-level prestige. Every time you walk the long, carpeted hallways you always seem to find something new to captivate you. 

On this visit, you find yourself following Barbatos down a grand window-lit hallway. Although he tries to keep his excitement at your visit to himself, you notice there is a joyful spring in his step as he leads you. "Thank you for joining the young master and I for tea this afternoon. I prepared a wonderful selection for us on the west balcony that should be to your liking."

"Of course Barbatos, thank you for the invitation," you say watching as his deep green eyes shimmer under the moonlight. "I don't believe I have been in this wing of the Castle yet."

"Then it is my pleasure to be the first to guide you," he replies with a smile. He slows his pace, allowing you to walk beside him. The two of you walk in content silence, enjoying the comfort of each other's presence, until you notice a strange-looking vase resting on an elegant pedestal. It seems to be composed of two types of clay: one looks like melted pearls that seem to absorb the light of the moon, and the other is a matte ebony material. The contrast between the light and dark is so captivating you stop to look at it.

Barbatos, sensing your distraction, chuckles behind you, "I thought that would catch your eye," he muses. "Would you like to know the significance of this piece?"

"I would," you nod. It takes so much self-restraint to not trace your fingers along the priceless art, but somehow, you manage to resist the urge not to touch it.

"This vase contains two different types of clay, one from the Celestial Realm and one from one of the depths of the Devildom. Usually, these substances repel from one another, but thanks to a bit of water from the human world, they are able to come together and create something beautiful."

"That's amazing," you breathe, looking at this art, this manifestation of what can happen when all three realms work together.

"I knew you'd appreciate its beauty," he smiles. "Shall we continue?"

You nod as he holds out his arm to escort you down the hallway. 

The palace is a labyrinth, and after turning right, then left, and then right again, you find yourself staring down a long hallway littered with portraits on the walls. 

"What is this place?" you ask, passing the painted eyes of regal-looking demons that seem to follow your movements. 

"This is the hall of faces," Barbatos answers. "It is a place to honor those who have made a difference in the Devildom, past royalty, war heroes, and other notable figures."

"I see." your eyes rest on a figure with broad shoulders and familiar-looking eyes. "Is that?"

Barbatos' face falls slightly, "Yes, that is his majesty the King, the young master's father."

"Diavolo's father," you repeat, letting your eyes wander from the darkened painting to the one next to it. One of the Prince himself. But instead of the tender warmth in the Prince's features, you find him looking stern and cold. "That doesn't look like him," you murmur. "I hate that someday people will walk by this portrait and not see him as the ruler he is."

"I agree," Barbatos says. Although it is a subtle shift, you detect a hint of disdain in his voice as he pulls his gaze from the painting. "The artist who painted this portrait, and many others, is well renowned but does not know or care of the true light of the Young Masters' smile."

"He sounds like a jerk," you grumble, stepping away from the painting.

Barbatos laughs; the sound is light but pleasant. "That certainly is one of the many words to describe the Artist. Come, let me escort you to the balcony. I fear the Young Master will become jealous if I steal you for the entirety of your visit today."

You take his outstretched arm and allow the Butler to guide you away from the Hall of Faces and to the eagerly awaited tea party. But as you get farther and farther away from the portrait, you cannot rid yourself of the effect Diavolo's portrait had on you.

~

The balcony air is warm and comforting as you raise a hand-painted teacup to your lips. It's warm, rose-scented steam tickling your nose with it's tantalizing fragrance, 

"Mc, is something troubling you?" The Prince asks gently from his seat next to you. He places his large hand on top of the one you have resting on the table's edge. "You seem troubled today."

You place your teacup back onto its saucer on the table and look at his handsome face fondly. "It's nothing, just lost in thought."

Barbatos lets out an amused chuckle as he comes up behind you to top off your cup. His gloved hand rests gently on your shoulder. "Mc and I walked through the Hall of Faces today, Young Master."

Diavolo's smile falls slightly as he shifts nervously in his seat. "Oh. So you saw my portrait?" There is an embarrassment in his gaze that makes you wonder if looking at royal portraits of the past is the Devildom equivalent of looking through your friends' old middle school yearbooks. 

You nod hesitantly. "I did."

"And what did you think of it?" he asks, his golden gaze coaxing the truth out of you. 

"It didn't look like you," you admit. "I mean, it was you in the picture, but it was weird seeing you look so serious and unhappy.."

"So you think I am unserious?" he smiles amusedly. 

"No. I just really like your smile," you admit, shyly grabbing a lemon cake from the three-tiered stands.

"Well then, I suppose it's about time for me to update my portrait," he says, looking over to his Butler. "Barbatos, can you please fit that into our schedule?"

"Absolutely, young master. How about midday tomorrow?" The Butler hums thoughtfully. He knows the Prince's schedule by heart. 

"Wonderful, and does that work for you Mc?"

"Me?" you ask with a mouthful of cake; a bit of the glaze drips down your chin as you look at the two demons in bewilderment. 

"Of course," the Prince laughs, handing you a handkerchief to wipe your face. "You are the one responsible for this appointment, so It is only fair that you join us for an afternoon."

He says it lightheartedly so you know that if you truly had something going on, or if you did not want to go. You would not have to. But in truth, sitting for a royal portrait probably isn't something that happens very often; your curiosity gets the better of you, and you find yourself happily along with the Prince.

Both demons, seeing your acceptance, look absolutely elated. Diavolo flashes you a sincere grin as he claps his hands together. "Wonderful, then we look forward to spending the afternoon with you."

~

The next day, you find yourself sitting in the Parlor at the castle. Diabolo is finishing up a meeting and Barbatos is greeting the Artist at the doors. Apparently this Demon is older than the Butler himself, having been the one responsible for painting most of the portraits in the Hall of Faces. The idea of meeting such an ancient being makes your stomach bubble up with nerves as you wonder what they are like. 

Looking around the Parlor, you notice that the room looks a bit different than normal; the furniture has been tastefully rearranged to make room for a lavish-looking armchair and an art station across from it. Instead of the typical moonlight streaming in through the large windows, some kind of enchantment on the glass fills the room with something close to sunlight.

When you close your eyes, you can almost feel the warmth on your face. 

You hear a soft chuckle from across the room as Barabtos comes in carrying a large, worn case with little streaks and splatters of color on its surface. "The artist prefers to work in the light." he smiles, setting down what must be painting supplies. 

"Can't say I mind it," you smile as the demon strides across the room, around your chair, and presses a soft kiss to the top of your head. This little act of affection is reserved for the moments when the two of you can be alone. 

"Then I'll make sure to use this spell more often." he smiles, placing his gloved hand on your shoulder. You find yourself getting lost in the warmth of his emerald gaze just as the parlor doors burst open. 

A short demon, swimming in a bright smock, takes quick, impatient steps into the room. His skin is the color of dried dandelion petals, and his tail is tipped like a paintbrush. "Canvazu," Barbatos greets, stepping between you and the Demon politely. "It is a pleasure having you join us today."

"Yes, yes, you said it before; now, where is my subject?" he says with a wave of his hand. 

"the young master will be here momentarily," The Butler says. In the meantime, Lord Diavolo would like to invite you to enjoy some refreshments."

"Diavolo?" The Demon, you now know as Cavazu, questions, "Haven't I painted that one before?"

"Indeed you have," Barbatos answers calmly, but you know him well enough to know that the Artist's disrespectful question irritates him greatly. "But as he plans to take the Devildom into a new era, he wishes to have an updated photo."

"I see." The Artist says shortly as his eyes take on a slightly red hue. Curiously, you lean forward to get a closer look. His pupils look like splatters of paint and seem to change color depending on his mood. Your movement catches his eye, and he notices your presence for the first time since he has arrived. 

"A live one, eh?" he says, wrinkling his nose in disgust. "This Prince of yours has some questionable taste. I prefer my humans slow-cooked."

You shift back in your seat as the hair on the back of your neck stands up straight. Do you know that eating humans has been outlawed and the Devildom for quite some time? Maybe this guy is so old he missed the memo?

Barbatos clears his throat and takes a step toward the Demon, who is looking at you like their next meal. "Clearly, you are mistaken; this is Mc. A distinguished guest and friend of the Devildom."

The Artist opens his mouth to surely make another snarky comment, but he's interrupted by the doors parting and Diablo's timely arrival.

He looks just as handsome as ever as he greeted you with a smile, "Sorry I'm late, Canvazu. Thank you for taking the time to meet us today."

The Demon, who is becoming one of your least favorite beings in the three realms by the second, looks the prints up and down. "oh, I remember you. You look the exact same as the last time I saw you. So why do I have to immortalize your face again?"

Your jaw drops, how could he say this to the ruler of Hell?

You look at the Prince, but to your surprise, he only laughs. The wonderful sound fills the room and calms your nerves. "I suppose I wish for the Devildom to see the true me~"

"Actually, I don't care." the Artist says in an annoyed tone. "Go sit over there so we can begin."

Diavolo is unphased by the Demon's rude behavior but shoots a quick look at you and Barbatos, whose smile is murderous, to not intervene. If this Artist is as well respected as he appears to be, he certainly can get away with this attitude toward nobility. 

"Is there anything else you need before you start?" The Butler asks, clearly wanting to get this whole exchange over with. 

"Yeah, Silence." the Demon sneers, his voice low enough for Diavolo to not hear from his chair across the room. He dips his long- brush-shaped tail onto his palette. And painting the backdrop. 

You see Barbato's jaw clench, and you gently reach out and give his hand a little squeeze to calm him down. He relaxes and looks at you warmly. "I apologize for my rudeness, Mc. You have been here for quite some time, and I haven't given you any refreshments. May I fetch something for you?"

"That would be lovely; thank you," you say, happy to give him a distraction. He nods and goes to make you something in the kitchen, leaving you in the room with the Artist and the Prince.

It kind of sounds like the start of a corny joke, and you smile to yourself, thinking up all the different ways you can set up the punchline.

You watch in amazement as Canvazu works, his tail flicking back and forth; his paintings are so lifelike, so realistic it looks like you can step onto the canvas and still be in the same room.

Diavolo sits perfectly still in his seat, but despite his best efforts to hide it,  he looks extremely bored. He meets your gaze and gives you a little wave.

You stick your tongue out at him teasingly in response, and he beams back at you; at the change in his subject's face, Canvazu's head snaps toward you, and he glares into the very depths of your soul. "You, human. You are distracting my subject; stop that at once! Do you realize how privileged you are to be sitting in on one of my sessions?." Embarrassment boils beneath your skin and you open your mouth to apologize, but Diavolo stops you standing abruptly. 

"There is no need for that; Mc is doing exactly what they're supposed to do, making me smile. 

"As the artist, I will capture your image as I see fit." Cavazu objects. "I cannot immortalize your face looking so undignified with a silly grin."

You sit up from your chair, "there is nothing wrong with his smile," you say defensively, your patience finally running out . "will you really not paint him if he doesn't look miserable in the chair?"

"Absolutely not." The Demon says, throwing his pallet on the floor. Paint splatter everywhere. "Watch your tongue, Human. You are nothing but an insignificant pest. You have no right to speak to me that way."

Immediately, Diavolo is at your side, looking furious. "I believe we are at an impasse then, Cavazu. I tolerated your disrespect as a courtesy for your continued service of the Devildom, but you have crossed the line. As of now, you will no longer be contracted by the crown."

Canvazu looks absolutely frazzled, for once having to actually deal with the consequences of his actions. "You cannot be serious, My lord. I have served the Devildom for years and you choose this, your pet? Over me?"

"A thousand times over." Diavolo declares with certainty; he looks down at you and takes your hand, pressing it to his lips. "And this Human may one day rule the Devildom at my side. They mean more to me than anything. I refuse to let you rob the Devildom of its smile any longer." Diavolo says, his authority clear in his voice. 

"Barbatos, if you please." The Prince says, addressing the Butler, who you haven't noticed come back into the room. 

"At once, young master." The Butler says, and with a snap of his fingers, the Artist disappears from the room, leaving the three of you alone in the Parlor. "I must say, kicking that oaf out has been one of the highlights of my existence, Your Majesty. Thank you for that opportunity."

The Butler sent the two of you into a fit of laughter and, despite his prim and proper nature, lets out a genuine smile in response.

"Are you alright, Mc?" The Prince asks softly, the anger on his features disappearing as he looks at you. 

"I'm alright; I'm sorry your artist was such a jerk, though." You reply. "Is there another artist you can use to paint your portrait?"

He shakes his head, "this situation has made me realize that I do not want to have my portrait painted anymore."

"But I thought you wanted a new painting to replace the one in the Hall of Faces," you say in surprise. 

He smiles, "I do, but I was wondering if you would do me the honor of sitting with me in my portrait."

"Is that really okay?" you ask in bewilderment. 

"Of course it is," Barbatos says simply. "You have done more than enough to earn your place up on the wall."

"I-I don't know what to say."

"How about yes?" The Prince asks, his golden gaze overflowing with hopeful affection. 

You smile and nod eagerly, your heart feeling tender with love. "Yes, I will."

"Wonderful," he replies eagerly, looking like an excited golden retriever. "Barbatos, would you do me the honor of painting our portrait?" 

"I would be delighted to," he replies, striding over to where the Artist once stood. "I have not practiced my oil paintings in quite some time, but I believe I can capture your feelings appropriately."

"So. Shall we begin?" The Prince smiles leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

Tagging: @enchantedforest-network, @starbbyy