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violentdelightsandviolentends · 6 months ago

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Honey Girl. Chapter Ten.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Eleven. Series Masterlist. The Playlist.

Chapter Synopsis - The two of you have some time to yourselves for what feels like the first time in forever.

Pairing - Dadsbestfriend!Bucky Barnes x female reader - soulmate au

Warnings - smut. cursing. mention of a panic attack. initial hospital setting. one alcohol mention.

Word Count - 4k

Authors Note - 10!! 10 whole chapters!! can you believe it!! pancake recipe taken from mr carlos sainz - thanks carlito <3. double date next chapter (with protective/jealous bucky, as requested ;)). and the much awaited conversation… coming very soon. thanks for the love and support and kindness. it means the world, always <3

as always, if you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging!! reblogs are the only way to circulate my writing, which generates more of it. feel free to send me a comment or an inbox, too!! thanks, my loves!! <3

Masterlist. Inbox.

“Before I came down to find you, your Mom raised a question with me.”

“… which was?”

He takes a deep breath. Exhales it shakily.

“She asked me how long you and I have been soulmates.”

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

“We can’t sit out here forever, honey.”

You stretch out your legs from where they’ve been tucked up against your chest, chin resting on your knees. Bucky places a hand on your thigh, thumb rubbing gentle circles.

“We can.”

He chuckles, pressing a kiss into the top of your head.

“I know it’s scary, but we can’t run from this any longer. We’re just going to have to face it head on.”

“I know,” you sigh, taking his hand in yours. “I’m just…”

You trail off, leaving words unspoken in the air like particles of dust in the sunlight.

“What are you so afraid of? Is it that they won’t support us? Honey girl, they aren’t gonna have much of a choice. We are literally soulmates.”

You’re trying to find a way to explain, but none of your thoughts are coherent enough to articulate into something comprehensible.

“I don’t know, Buck. At first, I think it was that. But now? Maybe I just feel guilty that we’ve kept something so huge a secret for so long. I used to tell my parents everything - by choice. That’s how we’ve always been. And suddenly, the biggest event of my life happens, and I… didn’t tell them?”

“You’re letting this guilt eat you alive, baby. Listen, I feel it too. You’re not alone in this. Do you know how many times your parents have asked me about dating in these last eighteen months? How many times we’ve talked about soulmates? And I guess I never lied… but I haven’t exactly told the truth. I’m just as guilty as you think you are.”

“I’m sorry,” you confess, resting your head against his broad shoulder. “I’ve had such tunnel vision with this whole situation. I’ve been selfish. I should have thought about you more.”

“You haven’t had to.”

“Hmm?”

“You’ve got nothing to apologise for, honey baby. You’ve never had to ‘think about me more’, because you’ve known how I felt this whole time. In here.”

He places a hand over your heart. You close your eyes, letting the warmth from his palm bleed into your chest. The weight of it grounds you back down to Earth, tethered to your soulmate in more ways than one.

“That’s the beauty of it,” he continues. “You don’t have to guess how I’m feeling, or when I’m feeling it - because I’m always telling you. And you’re always listening.”

“I don’t deserve you,” you whisper, squeezing his hand where it’s still linked with yours.

“The Universe disagrees,” he whispers back, leaning in to kiss the spot underneath your ear. “I disagree.”

It’s all so tender, so gentle, so real, that a lump in your throat forms instantly. You blink rapidly, fighting back tears as you press your side into his. If you could sew yourself into his ribcage and live there forever, resting your head on his beating heart, you would.

“Come on,” he coaxes carefully, pulling you to your feet and watching to see if you’re steady enough. “Let’s do this thing.”

You stare up at him, lost in those ocean blue irises. For a moment, you swear you see the waves moving in them, crashing against the shore in a motion so comforting, it reminds you of home.

“I love you.”

Bucky smiles at you, pupils dilating and heart beating that little bit faster. He’ll never get sick of hearing those words.

“I love you more than all the stars in the sky, honey girl. More than anything.”

Tangling your fingers with his, you inhale deeply before taking the first step forwards, towards the front doors of the hospital.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

When you reach your Dad’s room, you drop Bucky’s hand as if by instinct. When he links your fingers once more, you panic momentarily, before realising it’s futile.

They already know. There’s no point in hiding it anymore.

You walk through the door hand in hand, pressed into each others sides as if it’ll keep you standing upright. Maybe it will.

Your Mom instantly bolts out of her chair, coming over to assess you. She looks you up and down, cradling your face in her hands as she checks you over.

“You were gone a long time, sweetheart. You okay? Have you been crying?”

Bucky lets go of you to give you some space, but doesn’t go too far. You can still feel his warmth from behind you as you watch your Mom’s eyebrows furrow with worry.

“I had… I think it was, um… like a - a panic attack, or something. I don’t know. I just got overwhelmed.”

Your voice sounds so small again, so fragile. You mentally chastise yourself for not being stronger for her.

“Oh, honey.”

She pulls you into her chest, stroking your hair just like she did when you were a child and had a nightmare. You’d run across the hall and into your parents room - your Mom would always bolt upright when she heard little feet on the wooden floors, waiting for you with open arms.

“Your Dad is gonna be fine. I promise you, the Doctors have said he’ll make a full recovery.”

“It’s true.”

The voice is croaky and rusted from misuse, but it unmistakably belongs to the man lying in the hospital bed.

You make your way over and sit down carefully, cautious and calculated. Your Dad takes your hand, stroking his thumb across your skin.

“I’m gonna be just fine, kid. I know I scared you, and I’m really sorry. But I’m okay. Promise.”

You smile at him, genuinely this time, before leaning in to press a quick kiss to his cheek.

“You guys should go home.”

“What?”

“You heard me. Go home, get some rest. The two of you look almost as exhausted as Lori does.”

Your Mom laughs, shaking her head. You chuckle, watching them. There’s no one funnier than your soulmate.

“I think we should stay a little longer, Jack.”

Bucky’s voice has all three of your heads whipping around to face him.

“Buck, please be on my side here. You’re tired. Go home, sleep it off. All I’m gonna do for the next twenty four hours is sleep anyway. There’s no point in you sitting here watching me like a bunch of creeps.”

You chew your bottom lip, watching your Dad’s face carefully.

“Mom, Dad - we need to talk about-”

“I know, babygirl,” your Dad interrupts. “And we will. But not here, and not now. We’ll do it when I’m home. We can all sit on the couch and drink your Mom’s cherry lemonade and talk about how you and Bucky have been soulmates this entire time.”

“Not this entire time,” you grumble at his attempt at a joke.

“Seriously, you two. I won’t ask again. Go. Home.”

You look at your Dad for a moment, before averting your gaze to your Mom. They’re both wearing the exact same facial expression - the one they used to give you when you’d refuse your bedtime as a six year old on a school night.

“Come on, honey. You heard them. We’re practically dead on our feet.”

You rise from the bed reluctantly, pressing another kiss to your Dad’s cheek before doing the same to your Mom.

“Call me if anything changes, or if you need anything. I mean anything, you guys.”

They both nod as your Dad does a mock salute, laughing at himself.

Bucky extends his hand out for you. This time, you don’t hesitate to take it. You hold it tightly all the way back to his truck, and then all the way back home.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

You and Bucky get ready for bed in silence, both of you flitting around your apartment as quickly as possible. You can’t wait to finally get under your duvet and lose the stress of the last twenty four hours.

The minute your head hits the pillow, you’re wide awake.

The exhaustion has seeped into your bones, making you weary but restless. You can’t settle, physically or mentally.

Bucky, on the other hand, is out like a light.

He looks so peaceful like this. The moonlight soaks through a gap in the curtains, illuminating his face like some sort of angel. His hair is a little longer than usual, stubble growing out across his sharp jawline. He looks rugged, a little rough around the edges. He’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen.

As if he can feel your gaze on him, he cracks an eye open, blinking to adjust to the dimly lit room. He has a pillow crease across his skin, cheek flushed pink with a dusty blush.

“You okay, baby?”

His voice is hoarse and all sleep heavy, rumbling through you like gentle summer thunder.

“Can’t sleep,” you whisper, trying to fight back tears. “I’m so tired, Buck. So fucking tired.”

“But you can’t sleep?”

He pulls you into his chest, tucking your head into the crook of his neck and stroking your hair soothingly.

“It’s like my body is exhausted, but my brain is wide awake,” you mumble into his bare skin. “Doesn’t make sense.”

“Nothing makes sense,” he chuckles lowly. “Nothing in this goddamn world makes sense. Except for me and you.”

Bucky spins you in his arms so your back is to his chest, bodies pressed together without an inch of space between you. Pressing a kiss into your neck, he starts mumbling.

“You just need to turn your brain off, baby. I know it’s easier said than done… so I’m gonna help you. All you need to do is focus on my voice, on my touch. Focus your attention on my hands on you, my lips on your skin. The heat of my body against yours.”

He skims his fingers down your side, gripping at your hips to ground you. He’s still kissing your neck, nipping occasionally to vary the sensation. He slips a hand down your front, cupping you over your underwear as you close your eyes, breathing him in. He smells like salt water and sea air and gasoline and home.

You cant your hips into his touch, trying to get him where you want him. Bucky takes the hint, slipping his hand into your panties and running a finger through your wetness. You groan, throwing your head back into his solid shoulder.

“Just switch off, honey baby. Give in to me.”

Bucky glides a finger into you, crooking it towards him. His palm hits your clit and you keen, whining all high pitched and breathy. His hips buck into your backside at the sound, and he chuckles.

“Fuck, you sound so sweet. Sweetest girl in the world.”

He adds another finger, using his thumb to circle your clit in precise, firm motions. You’re writhing against the mattress like a serpent, unable to stay still as Bucky takes you apart.

“Come for me, baby. Can feel you squeezin’ my fingers. That’s it, atta girl… ride my hand, take what you need. Wanna hear how pretty you sound when you come.”

Your entire body tightens up as you reach your climax, back arching away from Bucky as he continues to curl his fingers. He pulls you close, anchors you to him as you moan and shudder.

Your head is empty, besides the thought of your soulmate. All you can think about is Bucky.

Bucky Bucky Bucky Bucky Bucky.

You take a stuttered inhale as you try to catch your breath, beads of sweat dripping down your back.

“You okay?”

He’s muttering into your shoulder, mouth never leaving your skin. You nod, linking your fingers with his where they rest on your waist.

“You didn’t come,” you whisper, leaning your head back into Bucky.

He kisses your cheek, chuckling lowly.

“This wasn’t about me,” he reassures. “It’s all about you, baby. Always is.”

The two of you breathe together for a little while, allowing you to come down from your high. Eventually, Bucky taps your thigh, nudging you up.

“Come on, honey. Get up and use the bathroom, and then we’ll sleep for the next week.”

You do as he says, crawling back into bed with limbs that feel like jelly.

“How you feelin’?” he asks as he pulls you into his side, resting your head on his chest.

“Fucking fantastic.”

He laughs and you can’t help but laugh too, as if by reflex.

“Yeah? No more racing thoughts in that pretty head of yours?”

“None. All I can think about is how much I want to sleep right now.”

Pressing a kiss onto the top of your head, Bucky tightens his arms around you.

“Then sleep, baby.”

You snuggle into your soulmates side, relaxing into the mattress.

“I love you,” you mumble into his skin.

“I love you,” he murmurs back. “Sweet dreams, honey girl.”

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

When you wake, you can’t tell if you’ve slept for five minutes or five days.

The sheets are crumpled, linen strewn across the bed as the pillows sit completely unmoved at the headboard. Sunlight filters in through the curtains, warming your skin that’s exposed to the sea soaked breeze.

You reach over to the other side of the mattress, seeking Bucky’s warmth. You’re met with empty space, and the sound of a throat clearing on the other side of the room.

The man in question is leaning against the doorframe, shirtless and sun kissed. His boxers are hugging his thighs just right, and you repress the urge to crawl over and sink your teeth into the muscle. Later.

“Morning or afternoon?” You croak out, watching as he softly smiles at your sleep addled voice.

“Morning. Eleven twenty four.”

You stretch your arms above your head, unaware of the way Bucky’s eyes are glued to your bare stomach.

“You want breakfast, or have you eaten?”

“Haven’t eaten yet. Was waiting for you.”

You slide down to the end of the bed where Bucky meets you, leaning down to press a minty kiss to your lips.

“Have you been awake long?”

He shakes his head, stealing another kiss.

“Ten minutes or so.”

“How’d you sleep?”

He moves some hair away from your face gently, the morning affection making you light up inside.

“Like a baby. Don’t think I moved once.”

You laugh, running your fingers over his bare shoulders.

“I can’t remember the last time I slept like that.”

“Me neither. I think we need to start prioritising sleep a little more.”

“It’s just… so hard,” you murmur, rising onto your knees on the bed so you’re face to face. “I don’t ever want to sleep when I have the most handsome man alive in my bed. I can think of many other things I’d rather be doing.”

He groans, chuckling lowly.

“Watch it,” he warns. “Or I’ll keep you in this bed all day. Won’t let you leave.”

“Is that a threat or a promise, Barnes?”

He football tackles you suddenly, both of you falling backwards into the plush sheets. You squeal, caught off guard as his hands squeeze your sides firmly.

“Keep running your mouth and see what happens, angel.”

You card your fingers through his hair, tugging slightly to get a reaction. When his eyes flutter closed, you breathe out a laugh.

“I’m so scared,” you tease, peppering his face with gentle kisses. “Like, quaking in my boots.”

He goes to retort, but is interrupted by the deafening sound of your stomach rumbling.

“If we weren’t about to get noise complaints from the neighbours about that hunger of yours, I would absolutely continue this. But…”

“We need to eat.”

“Yes, we do.”

You peck his cheek before jumping off the bed, stretching as you make your way to the kitchen. Bucky follows you eagerly. Of course he does.

You click the coffee maker on as you spin to face him where he’s leaning against the counter.

“I’m about to make you the best pancakes you’ll eat in your entire life, James.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. Watch and learn, baby.”

When he doesn’t move, you walk him backwards, pulling out the bar stool from underneath the island.

“You just sit there and look pretty.”

He shakes his head with a smirk as you wink, turning on the stove and grabbing your bowls and utensils. He didn’t ask for a cooking lesson, but you’re about to give him one.

“The trick is to separate the egg whites from the yolks, and whip them. When they’re fluffy, you fold them into your mixture, and it makes the pancakes light and airy and gorgeous. Then you add honey, for extra sweetness.”

He watches you flit around the kitchen as if you’re the sun, bright and warm and radiant. He can’t take his eyes off you for a second. He couldn’t if he wanted to.

Bucky’s blinking back tears, suddenly, as you sway your hips while flipping the pancakes at the stove. He wants to drop to his knees, yell out to a higher power and ask what the hell he did to deserve someone like you. He’ll beg, if he has to, for someone, something, to make sure that he finds you in every universe, in every version of this crazy life.

“I love you,” you beam at him, as if you’ve read his mind. “I love you more than anything.”

Your grin is so blinding, so utterly brilliant that the entire room lights up with it. Your own form of electricity.

“I… I-”

“I know, Buck.”

It gets like this, sometimes. Too overwhelming to put into words. To love someone more than anything, anyone - a love that knows no bounds - is completely indescribable.

So he doesn’t even try. He just nods at you, watching as your eyes light up at the sight of him.

“Will you pour us some coffee while I put these on a plate?”

“Anything you need,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your hair as he squeezes past you to grab the mugs. “Always.”

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

You settle down to eat on the balcony, letting the midday sun warm you both up.

“I brought syrup, but, I also brought this.”

You hold out a plastic tub that contains a dark pink mixture, popping the lid off.

“Try it.”

Bucky sticks his little finger in, putting it in his mouth and sighing in contentment at the taste that coats his tongue.

“Good?”

“So good. What is it?”

“My homemade raspberry and lemon coulis. I make it to go on top of pancakes and waffles - it beats maple syrup any day.”

“You’re a genius.”

“So it’s been said,” you laugh, pouring it over your plate. “Now eat before they go cold.”

“Yes ma’am.”

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

“You weren’t lying,” he says when he’s finished. “They were the best pancakes I’ve ever eaten.”

You laugh, sliding across to press your side into his.

“There’s a lot more where that came from. I have so many recipes I want you to try.”

“God, I’m so lucky. I have the most perfect soulmate in the world, and she’s a baker. What did I do to deserve you, hmm?”

You lean in to kiss him gently, licking across his lips. He tastes like raspberries and sugar and eight hours of sleep.

You’re sat in comfortable silence when your phone rings, startling you both.

“Hello?”

“Babe?”

“Lacie?”

“Hey!”

“Hi!”

You smile instantly, and Bucky does too, by default.

“Your Mom called me and told me about your Dad. She’s been keeping me updated over text. How are you guys holding up?”

“We’re good, honestly. It was a little touch and go at first, but now… we’re okay. All of us.”

“Good. I love you guys.”

“Love you too. So much.”

She sighs all deep and wistful, and you can’t help but chuckle.

“What’s up, Lace?”

“Well… I’m calling with a proposition. And I feel like you’re gonna say no, but your Mom already told me that I had to force you to do it, so.”

“Oh, God.”

“Come on a double date with me and Cameron tonight. Come for dinner and drinks with us.”

You take a deep breath, looking over at Bucky. He nods in agreement, encouraging you.

“Okay.”

“Yeah?”

Her surprise is undeniable, the octave of her voice rising ever higher.

“Yeah. I haven’t seen you in too long, and it’ll be good for me to meet Cameron, finally. Plus, we’re visiting my Dad this afternoon, so we have a free evening.”

“Oh my God, I am so excited! Okay, I’ll text you the address of where we’re eating. Cam knows so much about you already, he can’t wait to meet you. And I can’t wait to meet Bucky… again? I mean I’ve met him before, but not as your soulmate.”

“Yeah,” you giggle. “It’ll be good for everyone to get… reacquainted.”

“Exactly!”

“Alright, Lace. We’ve gotta get ready to visit my Dad, but I’ll see you later?”

“See you later, babe. I am so excited. See you then!”

She puts the phone down, and you can almost picture the cloud of perfume and pressed powder that’s about to rain down on her bedroom. You wish you were there to watch it happen, like old times.

“Our first double date, huh?”

“It’ll be our last if you don’t behave,” you tease, leaning in to peck Bucky’s lips.

“Don’t tempt me.”

You laugh into his mouth, running your fingers through the ends of his hair at the back of his neck. It’s the longest you’ve seen it, and it’s starting to curl all cute and soft and wispy.

“Come on. Let’s go see my Dad, and then spend hours mentally preparing ourselves for Storm Lacie.”

“I always liked her. Seemed good for you.”

“She is. She’s the best.”

Bucky wraps a strong arm around your shoulder as you swing your legs over his lap, burying yourself in his bare chest.

“You nervous?” he asks into your temple.

“A little, weirdly. Meeting each others soulmate is the kind of thing we’d talk about when we were kids. And now we’re doing it.”

“We can handle it,” he reassures, his thumb rubbing patterns into your arm. “We can handle anything, you and I.”

“Anything?”

“Anything, honey girl. Anything.”

tag list part one

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revelboo · 1 month ago

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Here’s a little more fanart for you because OHMYGOODNESS I’m on the edge of my seat for the next Everything Is Alright chapter!!! Agh I live for the danger and suspense. Anyway thanks for these amazing stories. Delicious as always 🥹

Aaaaaah! I love it! Thank you so much! 💕💕💕

Everything Is Alright Pt 75

IDW Starscream x Reader, Soundwave x Reader

• “Don’t.” Struggling against the weight of Megatron’s ped pinning him, he twists to look at Soundwave upside down. Pleading with him, but then Soundwave hadn’t lied. His loyalty has always been to Megatron above all others, still believes in him. And doesn’t want to believe that the mech he all but worships will harm you just to make an example. To hurt him for daring to believe he deserves happiness, that he can have this. Injuries screaming, he stretches out an arm, servos straining. Needing to get free, get to you. Protect you from what’s coming.

• There’s a desperation on Starscream’s face that Megatron’s never seen before. Despite the damage, he’s still struggling to get to Soundwave. And Soundwave still has a palm splayed protectively against his chassis, an injured cassette? Rumble is missing he realizes and he hesitates. What exactly is going on here? “Show me,” he growls and Soundwave’s head bows.

• Is this a mistake? Wanting to trust in Megatron, but you’re just so fragile. What if he doesn’t understand? He can’t look at the pinned Seeker, can’t see that pain, but he doesn’t even try to shut it out of his processor. Lets the Seeker’s bitter hate, fear, and worry spill through him, because if he’s wrong he’ll deserve this and so much worse. Venting raggedly, he opens his cassette compartment and reaches in to find you. Unsettled at how still you are as he lifts you free, breathing but out, your temple bleeding where you’d gotten rattled around when he fell. Frame bowing over you as he cups you in his palms, unable to look up to see Megatron’s reaction as he nudges you with a servo. Willing you to open those eyes, move. Anything.

• A human? Of all the things he’d expected, this hadn’t even occurred to him. Shifting his ped off of Starscream and watching his SIC scramble to Soundwave, servos hovering over the small, still form before the two exchange a look. All this secrecy over one little organic? Why risk his temper over this creature? Watching the painstakingly gentle way Starscream takes the human from Soundwave, he knows he’s missing something important. Realizing that the Seeker cares about this human and it’s a shock, because he’s never seen him care about anything but himself. “This is what you were hiding?” Not another coup but a human. One Starscream scents of.

• Cradling you to him, Starscream’s damaged wings lift. Head tipping and denta bared in threat as Soundwave lays a warning hand on his shoulder. Because if he’s going to lose the only thing he has left, he’s going to make it worth it. Drag Megatron to the Pit with him when he goes. “Ours,” Soundwave says, deep tonal voice almost pleading, surprising him. Still standing with him even after betraying you? “Mine,” he counters, wings trembling.

• Ours? This lunacy has Megstron off balance, because why suffer so much drama and pain over this pathetic, little thing? But watching the way Starscream’s head dips when the human makes a pained noise, the expression that flickers across the Seeker’s face snags at him. He really does care as insane as it is. And it’s an opportunity. Because if this little human means something to the Seeker, it’s a way to guarantee his obedience. A leash. No more plotting. Servos curling under into a fist, he vents. “A shared pet.” And Starscream’s face twists as he looks up at him, seething with hatred. “Let me see our pet, then.”

Y’all got me wanting to draw again and I can’t explain how happy I was when the new tablet also didn’t work because I had a dead HDMI port. I was able to return it and buy a $13 adapter instead. (I honestly can’t believe they still make the supplies I used to use)

#transformers x reader #starscream x reader #idw starscream #soundwave x reader #idw soundwave

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blingblong55 · 1 year ago

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The Great War -141, Vladimir Makarov

Based on a request:

with the new mw3, lets do angst, something along the lines of "Somewhere in the haze, got a sense i've been betrayed" coming from us because 141 betrayed us horribly, which ended up in us getting tortured and then we pretennd its fine when it isnt. forget and forgive we lie and when we meet with Makarov, we tell them, 'oops sorry, forgot i was also a enemy at some point, guess its time to betray like real enemies do' and as we set Makarov free, we show that we have been working as his spy ever since they betrayed us. also can this be with a female reader and we also marry makarov behind their backs so thats why we betray so hard? i love u!

A/N: anon knew what they were doing with that ask…anyway, here you go my love…betrayal as a meal <3

--- F!Reader, soldier!reader, enemy!reader, betrayal, mentions of torture and violence

A/N: also, not much of an angst since I don't want to kill Soap in this one...but I hope you like it

[Present day]

File #21712

Name: [Readers Last, First name]

Alias: Grim

Callsign: Bravo 0-5

Gender: F

DOB: [Redacted]

Rank: 2nd Lt.

Affiliations:

-TF 141 (Former)

-Kasper Team (dissolved)

-Konni Group (Current)

Status: Alive. Threat.

Summary:

Deadly, fast and a killing machine. Soldier was trained as a recon sniper and has been trained by allied forces as an insertion specialist. SAS has recognised this soldier as a necessity for most of its joint operations. Decorated with high awards and recognition by all military forces. TF 141 acquired soldier after a mission in Al Mazrah. Capable of killing all those that come between her and the goal, will not hesitate to harm enemies.

----------------------

The file was there, Laswell and all of the men in the team stared at it. What have they done, was all that played in their minds. To betray a soldier that has been wanted by all allied forces, by all teams and now losing you so quickly to a Russian group. To think your hands will be responsible for their demise. One torture room, where you begged as they did vile acts against you. Truth yelled by your gravelly throat, only to have Price ask for more of your blood. "How did he get to her so quickly?" Gaz asked, baffled to have lost you to the man you hated when this all began. "He had her all along," Kate spoke. Nikolai shook his head. "But how? We were her family," a betrayed Ghost said. "We betrayed her first," Price recalls.

[Eight years ago]

There had been suspicion someone within the base was working with KorTac, a double agent. All fake puzzles led to an unsuspecting, then officer cadet, you. Ghost and Soap made sure to tie you nicely to a chair. The same one that watched you bleed the truth as they cut looking for lies. You were always the hunter, never the prey. "Tell us, R/N, why the fuck were you talking to KorTac!" Price made sure to have the young Lieutenant punch you each time you stayed silent. Your blood on the walls of the torture-...interrogation room. "I told you Price, it isn't me!" Your eyes poured the truth they never saw.

"Fucking answer us!" Soap, more than ever hurt, slapped you. You play tough, but this hurts, the people you trusted with your life are now wanting to end it. An oath you hold close to you, now far away, or so they believed. The patch you wore with pride, is now ripped from your uniform. No longer friendly but an enemy. You knew what this meant. Ghost took his knife out, began to approach your neck with the sharp blade and before he took your life, Gaz walked in. A small-figured soldier is being pushed into the room. "Tell them what you told me!" Garrick barked. "I-it's me! I'm the one who is talking to KorTac," voice filled with fear, rightfully so. Ghost let go of the fisted uniform in his hand, and watched as your body fell forward. Soap, look of regret, held you in his arms.

On the way to the medic centre, Ghost was by your side as you kept whispering it wasn't you. The scar he made, is forever to be kept. Days of healing, hours of apologies. Nights when you didn't hear it, but the cold lieutenant apologised with a stream of tears on his face. A blade he cared for, neared your death.

A/N: Makarov's information has been updated for the reboot, so I'm basing myself on that

[Seven years ago]

[Saint Petersburg, Russia]

You visited the country as a civilian and bumped into a man on your way to your hotel. "Sorry, mate," you kept walking and then days later, the same man appeared in the hotel's lobby. Bumped into you and then as an apology for spilling your wine, he offers dinner. 36-year-old Vladimir was still not illustrated, not to any of his future enemies or hunters at least. You learned many things with him that evening, from his young years in the military and how his night had gotten better since meeting you. "It's wonderful, to have such a beauty like you visit such a dull country." He had you blushing and knew how to mess with your young heart.

"You're just saying that, Vlad," a smile on your lips. It was bizarre how he went from Vladimir to Vlad, a short name that meant too much to a man like him. "Well, it's true, my dear," his smile winning you over. He didn't know your real job and you didn't know his. That night, you made a friend, someone you hold dear. That night, he made a lover, a puppet to his future.

[Six years ago]

[middle of nowhere]

"Where are you taking me?" a blindfold on you as your boyfriend, Vlad, took you to yet another date. "You'll see my dearest," he whispers against your soft skin. Warm breeze hit your skin. The ocean, as free as you and him yearned to be. "Suprise my love," his thick accent melting your heart. The blindfold off you, you smile and hug him. This day, all truth was told, no arguments, just two lovers understanding each other's lives. "No no, my love, I would never hurt you," a promise he knows to keep. "And you wouldn't betray me, right love?" His hands cupped your delicate face as you nod. "I would never," you whisper as you feel his lips fall on yours.

From then on, no one knew who he was to you. But to his comrades, friends and family you were the girl who held his heart. The task force all thought you were just like them, stuck to the mission and not to civilian love. Dancing with the devil, making love to him and promising your all. An engagement ring that hangs with your dog tags. Secret love to never be told.

[Five years ago]

"Who is this?" Soap and Gaz looked at the photograph. "Vladimir Makarov, a Russian nationalist, born during the USSR," Laswell responded. "He's the target," her lips said. A knot at your throat, this can't be, you have to warn him. "Y'alright love?" Ghost's hand on your back. You nod. "Yeah, I'm just thinking," you turn to him. He nods, "Right, well, what do you think we should do?" He encouraged you, the new lieutenant of the team, no longer a cadet officer. It was something he pushed you to, to be the best. Proud smile on him when you ran up to him with the news. "I say we start with intel," you look at the photograph once more. It was your Vlad, no doubt. "Right, sergeants with me, Ghost and Grim stay behind for Laswell's next intel ask," Price nodded and left.

Days passed and Operation Golf was established. Ghost taught you how to perfect your ghillie suit. He just liked how you tried to make yours better than his, which always turned into, 'which Lt. wore it better'.

By midnight, as Ghost went to sleep, you left base to meet with Vladimir. Price and the two other men in a different country, looking for him. "What is it, my love?" His gloved hands held your face. "They are now gathering intel on you. They believe you are still in Russia," you spoke in Russian. He chuckles, "Shame that I'm here, isn't it," his lips meet yours. Your nose is cold and now warmed by his kiss. "Don't trust no one, not even Ivan," you warn him. "I only trust my beautiful love," he kisses you again. "Now, let me hold my precious darling before she plays pretend." And that night, was the first of many rendezvous's he took for you whilst you play ally to the task force.

[Four years ago]

You were on an operation with some old teammates from a past squad when Price got a hold of you. "Grim, it's that Captain Price guy!" A teammate calls out. You answer the call. "Prisoner 627 is now in Russia," Price proudly spoke. 627, a number unique to the case the military had opened for Makarov alone. Your wedding ring is hung with the dog tags. "Copy, out." You say over the call. That night, your bedroom was not filled with the call of your dearest lover. It's strange, to play pretend with the family you made as a soldier and to play feign with the man you call home as a wife. All in the name of love and war.

Months pass and you play calmly. No husband, just an enemy in some Russian prison. "Y'okay bonnie?" Soap sat beside you during mess hall. "Yeah, just a bit tired from that training," you lie. The sleepless nights you have thought about your husband. You look around the table, no one knowing you knew what would come next from Konni. In the end, it wouldn't be you who got betrayed again. Not tortured, especially not by the men in your husband's team that guarded your life with theirs.

Mission after mission, you would go to a country near Russia. Have meetings with people on your husband's side, and hear how he would escape prison. Asked you to stay away from his people when the day arrived. Play good, he would remind you. You know the date, time, how and when it would happen. The plan is all memorised in your head. You knew the people that would break him free, you knew it all and yet no one in 141 was aware.

[Three years ago]

On yet another mission, you got news of Vladimir. He isolated himself, prepared for when he would see you again. Sent letters to you occasionally. Details of love no one would see from a man like him. A love for all movie lovers to never witness. You roamed the home he set out to be his and yours, no one, not even his best soldier knew that home existed. It was days like these that you wished to have stayed in bed and kissed his body, all details to be taken in for when you waited to once more kiss him.

The picture of the secret wedding was held between your fingers. A smile he dreams to see as he awaits the prison break. The man who was set to believe evil held your hand and promised an entire lifetime of love. "I'm sorry," you whisper as your gaze focuses on the 141 emblem.

"Never be sorry, never, what they did to you is cruel, you never do that to a woman who was oathed in," fury escaped his lips. It was the night he finally told you all about him. He kissed the scars that the torture room left. In that moment, all else who dared question you, especially the rats of 141 would pay for what they did to his darling. Maybe he did corrupt you, but those scars, the lies they believed and the truths they never heard from you, were way before he met you. He believed in loyalty, good or evil, opposing or not. And the way you told him how you held the oath of being a soldier dear to you, he admired it. He believes that loyalty is essential, and if you are loyal to who you are, he applauds it.

[Two years ago]

A mission gone wrong, a phone call from within the prison. All he sacrificed to just hear you say, "I'm fine, honey." With that oh-so-soft voice of yours. A sigh of relief came from his lips. This was a reminder he would always be around even from within a guarder tower of hell. His men would always guard you, even if they fought 141, you were never the target. KorTac had a target on their backs when Vladimir found out they were the ones responsible for the bullet on your shoulder. "What is it?" He asked the guard. "The girl has been injured, gunfight at some mission." He had people that worked for him within the guards, and when the news arrived to him, that's when for the first time in his life, he feared life and a gun. Vladimir Makarov is a villain in everyone's eyes. In your eyes that hold paradise, he is peace. He is Vlad, your husband.

Whilst waiting for Soap to get cleared from the medics, you played with the ring on your necklace. "Oh, R/N, has some lover?" Gaz was the first to notice. Ghost's stare went to you, eyes wide as he heard the words he never needed to hear. Your blush told the words his heart never wanted to hear.

[One year ago]

[Las Almas, Mexico]

"Are you threatening us?" Ghost asked and in that moment, he made you back away. Guarding you with his body. Betrayal, the first of many he would see with you. That became the night you escaped the shadows of Commander Graves. Soap was somewhere in the city, Ghost and you escaped every chance the shadows had at catching you. Imprisonment is something you got Colonel Vargas out of. Ironic. By the end, you killed him, the man who used his shadows, in some explosion. "You alright, love?" Ghost asked as you went to the aircraft quietly. "Yeah, Mexico just tired me," your head hung as you played with the dog tags. "Who's the lover?" He finally acknowledged the ring. "No one, it's just a silly joke," you lie, something he knew well. "Hmm, yeah...a silly joke," he turned away from you.

[Present day, 21 November 2023 ]

[London, England]

The last time you saw them all as a team, well, now that you were sure you'd be a newfound enemy. With Makarov now out of prison, prisoner 627, your love called for him. As Ghost looked through the CCTV cameras, one of the men in Konni gave you the signal. And as you approached, you caught a glimpse of him. Your heart flutters and then you look at Ghost. He nodded and you pretended to try and fight against Makarov. Czar-9-0 Actual. The callsign of your husband and the name of the man you betrayed them for. Guns blazing, bullets directed at them, not you. Gaz and Ghost, a team, Soap and Price, a team, 141, one unit. You, the wife of the enemy. Two bullets and then, the head hit the ground. Young soldier down. "What are you doing?!" Soap asked as you turned on them. A 20-year-old soldier died within seconds, you knew him from when he joined at 18. James, the man whose blood ran on your gun.

Makarov fired, one of his men held your hand and brought you to your husband. The 141 patch off your uniform as now, you were given the Konni patch. "Welcome back, comrade," a man spoke with an evil grin. Ghost, the eyes that saw the betrayal again. 23 soldiers died, from both sides. 141 on the ground, trying to recover.

"C'mon, Grim, you have to trust me on this, yeah?" the young lieutenant that made Ghost told you. "What if we fall?" you asked. "If you trust me, we won't and if I trust you, we will go home and get a pint or two," He smiles at you. From this day on, you and he became close, a bond no gun could break.

Ghost swore you were taken hostage. And as Makarov was about to kill Captain Price, one of his men tapped him out. "No time, we will get him later!" Ghost's glare never left yours. He shook his head. This can't be, not his R/N. You looked at him, no remorse behind your eyes. It wasn't R/N, it was Grim that stared at him. The soldier he respected the most. You pointed your gun at one of the other soldiers with them.

It turned into something bigger

Somewhere in the haze, got a sense I'd been betrayed

He jumped at you, to not kill you but to bring you back and let Makarov run with Grim. You pushed him, what turned into a fight for his teammate to be back, became a fight against the enemy. You pushed him to the ground. "Ghost!" Gaz yelled as he saw your gun pointed at him. It was never Makarov that would be his demise. It wasn't an enemy. It was you. It was the one he held dear to his civilian self. The woman he would drink poison for. The one he jumped a bullet for when they were young cadets. Stupid, stupid, stupid. His eyes never left yours and for a second, he saw past Grim and noticed the scared R/N that obeyed her husband.

Soldier down on that icy ground

Looked up at me with honor and truth

Broken and blue, so I called off the troops

That was the night I nearly lost you

You put your gun down and turn away, running to Vladimir. His open arms, ready to embrace his darling. Now, all of 141's secrets are with Makarov. It clicked in that instant. How four years ago Makarov knew who Ghost was. How well he knew all their names. It wasn't some file he saw when his hacker got in, no, it was you, the best of all pawns. The train cleaned your tracks. Price and the others stood in fear, all this time, you were part of Konni. Ghost stood in silence.

In every war he was in, you were there. His favourite of all soldiers. From his early days as just Simon to his latest days as Ghost, all witnessed by you. He was the one who asked for you anywhere he went. His life came in a flash, all the Christmas events, the dinners and drinks he had with his friend...no...enemy. The one person who knew Simon liked the palm of her hand, now holding the man Ghost called an enemy.

"How did he get to her so quickly?" Gaz asked, baffled to have lost you to the man you hated when this all began. "He had her all along," Kate spoke. Nikolai shook his head. "But how? We were her family," a betrayed Ghost said. "We betrayed her first," Price recalls. "But that was years ago," Soap comments. "It started years ago," Gaz mentions. "We weren't meant to win this one gentlemen," Kate informs.

"Fuck!" Ghost's blood boiled. He scared them, he knew that well. So when he slammed his fist on the table, he even made the best of soldiers flinch. "Lt," Soap tried to calm him down. "No, Johnny! You don't get it, you don't know her as I do," he approached the sergeant. "She didn't kill you, why?" Kate walks to the betrayed soldier. "What?" His voice is hoarse. "She had the chance to kill you, headshot even, yet she didn't, she ran to him and then when she did, all fire ceased." Kate is after all a mastermind. "She didn't betray Simon, she betrayed Ghost, she betrayed Soap, not Johnny, Gaz, not Kyle and Bravo six, not John." She states.

"She betrayed soldiers, not family," Price came to realisation. Grim did that, Grim killed all that came between the goal. 'Capable of killing all those that come between her and the goal, will not hesitate to harm enemies.' The goal wasn't to kill Task Force 141, it was to get revenge for the betrayal, for torturing you in a room, letting your blood drip. You married a man, something all fools do. But even though Makarov wanted you to pull the trigger on Ghost, you didn't. You ran away and the fire ceased.

There's no morning glory, it was war, it wasn't fair

A/N: see what I did there?...mastermind me y'know

Tags:

@tf141glory @liyanahelena @quaritchscupquake @dilfgestivo @thefragmented @scarletdfox @arialikestea @unicorngirly1 @alhaizen @willowaftxn83-87 @koniglovesme @bbyfimmie @mothcelestial @kit-kats06 @palomesa @dheet @dontfearthereaperazura

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shiviwrites07 · 5 months ago

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Falling

Izuku Midoriya x Fem!Reader

Synopsis : It all takes a turn after the symbol of peace dissapears…

TW: Major Character Death, just pure angst.

Word Count: 1.8k words

Waking up to your beautiful face in the morning was Izuku’s favourite thing. He loved seeing your peaceful face, with a content smile on your face, snuggled into his chest as the sunlight peaked through the curtains and presented a majestic glow on your body. He slowly reached out his hand and tucked the small hairs behind your ears that had fallen out of place. As you slowly stirred awake and looked at him with the most beautiful smile and doe eyes filled with love, he felt the most content. He chuckled as he watched you snuggle closer to him and fall back asleep. He reluctantly got out of bed and headed to the bathroom to clean up.

As you stirred awake from your dream, you reached for the person on your side and frowned when you realised he wasn’t there. But the smell of toast and eggs tingled your senses and you smiled at the fact that Izuku was making your breakfast. As you head towards the kitchen, you sit down on the table and look at the view of the city from the glass wall of your penthouse as Izuku slides you your cup of coffee. You thank him with a kiss and sit down together to eat. You make small talk and Izuku informs you how sad he felt at the fact that he would have to leave you alone on your free day cause he has to work on a new case that has been a mystery the past few days. You reach for his cheek and he melts into your palm as you tell him, “Come back home safe okay Izu?”

As he leaves the house bidding you goodbye and that he would come home soon, you hug him and tell him to stay safe and have a good day. But your gut told you that something bad was going to happen. You where sitting on the couch finishing some paperwork from your last mission as the TV played in the background. “REPORTING LIVE FROM MUSTAFU! PRO HERO DEKU IN A GUT WRENCHING FIGHT WITH MYSTERY VILLAIN VENGEANCE! WHO WILL WIN?” You look up at the screen and gasp when you see what state Izuku was in. You rush towards your bedroom and get changed into your hero gear as you bolt out of your penthouse. You run as fast as you can towards the scene and land a damaging blow on the villain as you stand infront of Izuku. “Ah the wife is here to save his husband huh? Too bad you’ll fail!” Said the villain as he launched his attack. ‘He’s fast’ You think as you barely dodge his attack. You see Shouto and Dynamight reach for Deku, and feel relived when they take him to a safe place. You exchange a blow after blow until the villain lies on the floor and you raise you arm in victory as you hold your bleeding side. You were in the middle of getting patched up when you saw the commotion outside, the villain screamed “You think you’ve won H/N? But you lost! Hahahaha” As he ditches the police. You don’t understand what he’d said until your sidekick rushes into the ambulance and says that Deku is gone.

The next few days went by in a blur as you buried yourself in the task of finding your husband. After 20 days, there was still no sign of Izuku. You slowly started to give up hope as crime rates started increasing as villains started terrorising the civilians in the absence of the symbol of peace. As you sat on the couch looking through papers, the front door slammed open. Your eyes widened as a bloodied form of Deku stumbles in. You rush to hold him as he passes out in your arms.

After a few minutes of cleaning and patching him up, you examine his features, relieved at the fact that he wasn’t too harmed. You set him down on the bed and head to the kitchen to prepare his favourite Katsudon, a recipe you had learned from Inko as you call Katsuki and inform him about Izuku’s reappearance. Katsuki sounds relieved but it is immediately followed by a sense of suspicion which he doesn’t make much out of. (now he thinks he should have)

As you finish frying the meat and cooking the rice, you notice two arms that come and snake around your face. You turn to look back at him and tears well up in your eyes as you look at his beautiful bruised face smiling down at you. “Did you miss me my love?” He says as he hugs you while you turn around and burry your face in his chest, weeping at the thought that you had nearly lost him. He cradles your face and wipes away your tears with his thumbs and says, “It’s okay baby, you don’t have to worry anymore. I’m sorry I disappeared suddenly. I was under Anesthesia when the villain must have kidnapped me. When I woke up I was in a basement, I had no idea where I was but I knew I had to make it back to you. So I somehow managed to escape. I’m so glad I did.” He helps you set the table and you both sit and talk about how the situation has been while he was away as you both eat. As you lay in bed, cradling each other in your arms, you manage to fall asleep after a long time.

You wake up in darkness, surrounded by an abyss. You panic at your situation and fail to notice the light coming from the opposite direction. As the light gets brighter, you notice a figure, bloodied and bruised, tied on a chair as it thrashes around. As you walk towards it, the figure of Vengeance suddenly appears and says “Peek-a-boo!”

You wake up in cold sweat, as you look around yourself and notice you’re back at your apartment as Izuku sleeps peacefully beside you. You calm yourself down and head to the kitchen for a glass of water and think about how it was surprising that Izuku suddenly appeared after a long time. But you brushed the thought aside and headed back to bed.

As the days went by, the crime rate went down as Deku was back at work but you couldn’t help but notice the slight changes about him. He started coming back home later than usual and left before you woke up. Even though you both worked at the same agency, you barely saw him and when you did, he was always buried in paperwork, like he was searching for something. When you decided to confront him about it, he brushed off your concerns and said that he was working twice as hard to pick up where he had left.

Months passed by and you felt yourself drifting apart from him. Others noticed the changes in him too, but they never put much thought into it.

On 26th September, Vengeance made a reappearance in Mustafu. He had brought an army of villains from Tartarus and all of the heroes were confused as to how they managed to break free. He called out, “WHERE ARE YOU H/N? Come out, come out wherever you are~” They were manic, as they started destroying everything around them. Vengeance looked up with a smile when he saw Izuku and you standing on a rooftop and fighting other villains. “My dearest Y/N~” You turned around and received a nasty punch to your abdomen and blew back a few feet. You looked down at your wound, you must’ve broken a few ribs. You looked up to see Izuku fighting the other villains and rushed in to the fight head first.

A few hours later, you looked around you and saw all the destruction that had taken place. Many heroes and villains alike were gravely injured. You weren’t in a good condition either. As you and Vengeance stand face to face, he calls out, “Deku! It’s your turn now!” You’re caught of guard as black whip grabs you and throws you across the roof onto another building. You roll on the floor and when you look up from the ground you see Deku standing there with a look of such hatred, that it rattles you to your core. “You know I never loved you right? You were Almight’s goddaughter and I knew that if I had you, I would have him in the palm of my hands too. I wanted to get rid of you before, but then I realised that I needed to keep you for the future. I cheated on you with my sidekick too, but you were so naive and trusting, you never suspected that did you?” Each word was like a knife being stabbed into your heart and you didn’t even realise that he had backed you up to the edge of the roof. You noticed the helicopters flying above your head, recording all of it. “No! That can’t be true. My Izuku loves me, he respects uncle Toshi and he would do anything to protect anyone he loves!” You shout, trying to grapple the fact that this couldn’t be the guy you fell in love with.

“Well how kind of you! But you never even realised, I’m not him.” He whispers into your ear as he pushes you back. In a state of shock, you freeze and fall off the building.

As you’re falling down, you reminisce about all the moments you spent with everyone you loved and the second before your death, Izuku’s smile flashes before your eyes and you smile at the fact that you were right about Izuku, because that villain was not him.

As your body crashes onto the ground and blood pools around your body, the clone reveals his true from and is taken away by the police who identify him as Vengeance’s brother. They are both arrested and admit in the police custody that they were obsessed with you and since you couldn’t be theirs, you can’t be anyone’s.

Meanwhile, Locked in a dark room as he looks at your falling body on the TV and the events that follow, the real Izuku thrashes and weeps in the chair he’s tied in, hating the fact that he couldn’t protect you, the only one he truly loved and that you must’ve thought that he was the one who killed you and betrayed you. He looks towards the TV with lifeless eyes, regretting that he beer got the chance to make your wear that ring hidden the the lower right corner of your safe. As he sat limp in his chair, it finally realised hit him that you were falling, and he wasn’t there to catch you.

@dearestgojo

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guksvault · 23 days ago

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HOUSE OF BALLOONS | JJK

08- In The Night

synopsis: fleeing the pressure and pretense of your elite life, you stumble into the seductive chaos of the House of Balloons. there, Jungkook waits— ready to make you question everything you thought you knew

w/c: 4.2k

warnings: jk is having a crisis!, too many mentions of the sun and the moon, (no srsly too many), mixed signals!, jk is a bit territorial, smut, hobi mention during foreplay??, oral (f.), unprotected sex (wrap then tap), creampie, reader has a breakdown!, the kims x parents r just soo boooo!!, alcohol consumption!, lots of texting in this chap sorry!!

!minorsdni!

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Jungkook rarely had the chance to witness dawn on weekdays. He reserved those fleeting moments—watching the sun greet the world as the moon quietly bowed out—for weekends.

Though, despite only indulging in the views on weekends, it was always his favourite time of the day. There was something mesmerising about the battle in the sky, the darkness stubbornly clinging on while the sun slowly claimed its place. The muted blues gave way to warmer hues, soft oranges bleeding across the horizon as the light grew stronger.

Jungkook had always felt a stronger connection to the moon than the sun. Like the moon, he was stuck in a phase of emptiness, waiting to feel whole.

Sometimes, he wondered if he would ever find a partner like the sun—someone brighter, someone who could reflect against him, making him shine in a way he couldn’t on his own. He wondered if he’d ever experience a love so powerful that, when they came together, they’d create an eclipse, leaving everyone in awe.

His free hand slipped under the pillow where his head rested, digging for his phone. He pressed his thumb against the screen—half past five on a Thursday.

Too fuckin’ early.

Too fuckin’ early to be watching the sun lay the moon to rest. Too fuckin’ early to be coming up with metaphors about the moon and the sun. Too fuckin’ early to be watching the girl who rested her head on his other arm sleep so peacefully.

He watched as your chest rose and fell softly, noting how your hand was tucked awkwardly beneath your chin, your lips almost in a pout. It made him wonder if you, too, were dreaming of the sun and the moon, and how gut-wrenching their love story was.

Jungkook was used to playing the role of the moon—only available during the night, following the moon’s lead and disappearing when the sun came into view. It was why he had set his strict ‘No sleeping over’ rule in the first place.

The sun made things feel permanent, real, and hopeful. Jungkook was none of those things. He was the moon—something that always felt like it came and went too quickly. A moment in time that people could indulge in to do things they’d never dare in the light.

Jungkook was always honest—he made sure the girls who he bent over his mattress knew he wasn’t here to stay. He’d make it clear that sex was all he was after, no interest in breakfast or exchanging numbers to keep in touch.

But he hadn’t told you that. You’d waltzed in, pretty in pink, and somehow managed to blur all of Jungkook’s lines.

He tries to stay still, your head resting against his arm as you sleep, but he feels jittery. Anxious. His foot taps against nothing, his thumb cracking each of his knuckles. He watches the sun climb higher into the sky, the golden glow streaming through the window, spilling across his bed and over your body. It’s almost starting to piss him off—how well it compliments you. How it kisses your skin and makes you glow. Should’ve shut his fuckin’ blinds last night.

Your eyes slowly fluttered open, your hand instinctively rubbing them as they adjusted to the soft glow pouring through Jungkook’s window.

“What time is it?” you mumbled sleepily.

“Six-thirty.”

“Been awake long?”

“Nah, just woke up now too.” Jungkook lied, unable to tell you that he had spent the last hour watching you sleep, as he romanticised the sun and the moon.

He watches as you grab your phone, scrolling through the endless notifications flooding your home screen. He knows he needs to tell you that this isn’t something serious—that waking up with your bodies entwined and falling asleep together is something that shouldn’t happen again. But right now, he feels a little selfish. He expects the same reactions from you that he’s gotten from other girls:

“You don’t mean that.”

“I think we have something special.”

“Maybe I could change your mind.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

He decides he can push it back a little further, nothing too crazy. Just wants to fuck you raw again—he’s sure that after he says what he needs to say, you won’t let him do it again.

His hand reaches out and presses his finger against the lock button on your phone as you type out a reply to a message.

“Dickhead.”

“Rude. Let you stay over, let you use my arm as a pillow, and all you care about is your phone.”

You roll your eyes and let your phone drop to the mattress, resting your chin on your hands instead. “Happy?”

“No. Arm’s dead from holding up your big-ass fuckin’ head.”

You push gently against his forehead with the tips of your fingers, letting out a small laugh and tell him to go fuck himself.

He watches as you move onto your knees, stretching your arms slightly. The shirt you’re wearing, hanging loosely over your body, lifting slightly.

“Rest of the boys here?”

“It’s 7 in the fuckin’ morning on a Thursday, D.D. Of course they are, you idiot.” Jungkook laughs, shaking his head as he brings his index finger to jab you softly in the ribs. You grab his finger, your body jolting slightly at the unexpected touch.

“Why? Got plans?” he teases, poking you again.

“Obviously,” you reply, a sly grin on your face. “Me and Hoseok, 8 a.m. Finally finishing what you interrupted.”

Jungkook’s eyes narrow slightly as he wraps his finger around the fabric of your shirt and tugs you closer to him.

“Not funny, D.D.”

"Bit funny," you murmur, tilting your head to give him a bit more access.

Jungkook's lips trail across your jaw, ghosting over your lips before moving to the other side of your jaw and down your neck.

"Did he kiss you here? Hm?" he asks, his voice low and teasing.

You're sure this is some kind of trick question, Jungkook trying to provoke a reaction from you. Instead of answering, you tilt your head the other way.

He pulls his lips away from your neck, his gaze meeting yours. “Asked you a question."

You look at Jungkook, letting out a small snort. But Jungkook isn’t laughing; he just looks at you, waiting. You shrug slightly, offering a small nod.

“Use your words. Yes or no. You can do that, right, D.D.?” His lips move back to your neck, pressing gentle kisses against your soft skin. His finger slides to the neckline of his shirt you’re wearing, pulling it back slightly to expose your collarbone. He presses two soft kisses there.

“Here?”

“Yeah.”

He looks up at you, his gaze darkening as his fingers slowly drag down your sides, reaching the bottom of your shirt. He pulls it off carefully, swallowing lightly when his eyes land on your bare chest.

His lips return to your soft skin, pressing a kiss to your sternum. "Here?"

"Yeah."

His head lowers, pressing soft kisses down your chest until his lips reach the curve of your breast, his other hand coming to squeeze the other gently.

"And here? Did he touch you here? Kiss you here?"

Your voice comes out a little breathier, your head tilting back slightly. "Yes."

Jungkook's lips kiss down to your nipple, his eyes looking up at you as your head rolls forward to look down at him, a slow soft lick over your hardening bud. “Here?”

You let a small breath escape your lips, paired with a nod.

He takes your nipple into his mouth fully, sucking gently before pulling away with a soft pop. "Words, D.D. Tell me." His teeth graze ever so slightly over your nipple, sending a shiver through you.

"Fuck- Mhm."

Jungkook feels a flash of annoyance that Hoseok got a taste of you before he did, got to touch and kiss you the way he's doing now. He knows Hoseok's more of an ass guy, wouldn't have fully appreciated just how lucky he was.

His hand moves to your shoulder, gently urging you back onto the bed, his lips trailing down your stomach. Each kiss is followed by the same question.

His lips reach the waistband, pressing a kiss over the fabric. "Here? Did I interrupt before he got to touch you here?"

You shake your head softly, goosebumps rising on your skin as his breath grazes over you.

He takes the waistband between his teeth, pulling back just enough to let it snap against your skin, earning a small moan from your lips.

"Got to touch you here, huh? I was too late?"

He leans back onto his legs, his fingers pulling your panties down your legs, wastes no time to push one of your legs to the side and settle himself between your thighs.

His lips inch closer, pressing a soft kiss to your inner thigh before moving to your clit, a small peck against your bud, his breath as he speaks causing your hips to shift slightly. “How ‘bout here D.D? Did he get to taste you?”

You lean up onto your elbows, looking down at Jungkook between your thighs, his eyes looking up at you through the messy strands of hair that have fallen over his forehead, his lips so incredibly close to your dripping core that it causes you to moan again.

“Fuck, Kook. No.” Your tongue darts out to lick over your lower lip, “Not there.”

Jungkook almost lets out a breath of relief, catches himself before he does, and swallows it. It’s not like it mattered—Hoseok and you, what happened or, clearly, didn’t happen. He tells himself it’s his pride, or his competitive nature. Almost slaps himself right there when he catches himself mentally thanking the cops for showing up, shutting down the party, and leading him to interrupt you both.

He lowers his head, moves his arms under your thighs and flattens his tongue to press a lick over your soaked core. Knows that the moment your pretty moans and whines fill the room, they'll drown out every unnecessary, irrational thought flooding his mind.

He moves his tongue back to your clit, softly flicking his tongue over you repeatedly. His eyes are still on yours, still leaning up on your elbows to enjoy the view. Brows pressing together, lips rested ajar.

His tongue is relentless, not faltering in speed—increasing instead. Soft little hums of satisfaction of his own vibrating against you, sends goosebumps over your skin. His tongue, every now and then, explores lower to drink in your arousal.

His hand, that had been holding the back of your thigh, moves softly across your skin. His head pulling up just slightly, his lips glossy with your slick form into a smirk of satisfaction. He brings two fingers to your center, softly runs them over your folds before pushing them inside you.

It’s almost kind of pathetic, how your body responds to the way Jungkook explores you. Your lips parted, letting out curses that are laced with whines. Fingers curling into the sheets beneath you, hips rolling up to greedily feel as much of Jungkook as you can.

His fingers curl slightly as they continue to push into you, his tongue back to work against your—now throbbing—clit. Your legs growing a little weaker, breaths getting a little more frantic, your walls getting a lot tighter around Jungkook's digits.

“Fuck—you gonna cum for me?” Jungkook’s lips barely pull from your clit, his voice practically echoing right through your body. Your come to tangle into the soft locks of Jungkook’s bed hair, encouraging him back to tasting you.

“Fuck.” Your back arches, one foot pressing into Jungkook’s shoulder, “Fuck, Kook.”

His fingers hook inside you, constantly pressing into the spot that you’ve only been able to find yourself. He lets out a groan of his own as he feels your walls start to pulsate around him. Your hand coming over your mouth to quieten yourself as your orgasm washes over you.

Jungkook pulls his head back, watches his fingers continue to push into you, drowning them in your orgasm. He brings himself to hover over you, fingers slowly exiting from inside you.

His other hand wraps around your wrist, moving it from over your mouth. He brings his other fingers, that are coated in your slick towards your mouth, when he’s met with your lips parting he presses them against your tongue. A hushed string of curses leaving his lips as he watches you taste yourself.

“Gotta fuck you, D.D.” His voice is low, fingers slowly coming out of your mouth and down to his cock, palming himself.

Your hands grab the sides of Jungkook’s face, pulling him into your lips. A silent invitation, fuck me. His lips work against yours as he kicks off his briefs.

His lips pull from yours, positions himself between your legs, his hands wrapped around the base of his cock as he lets the tip rub up and down your folds. Coats himself in you.

He could continue to tease you—likes the way you’re currently begging him to fuck you. But, Jungkooks self control seems to weaken whenever you’re in close proximity. Now, is no different. He’s sliding into you, your still pulsing pussy taking in his full length.

A steady rhythm is set, Jungkook's hips moving back and forth against you. He doesn't think he'll last as long as he wants-too fucking warm. So warm it has his mind drifting to the sun. Starts wonder if this is how the moon feels when it’s covered by the sun, to create an eclipse.

His teeth sink into his lower lip. Not the fuckin' time to be thinking about the moon or the sun or how they merge every now and then. He quickens the pace of his hips, shoving the silly metaphors out of his mind and replacing them with the sound of your moans.

His eyes flicker to your face, drinking you in.

Your eyes shut, lips parted slightly as your breaths grow heavier, brows furrowing with each thrust. Your hand moves to the back of his neck as he lowers his head, bringing his ear closer to your lips. He needs to hear you, needs your sounds to drown out the voices in his head comparing your expression to sunlight. Warm. Bright. Too fuckin' hot.

"Yeah? Feel good, D.D?"

Your nails dig into Jungkook's neck ever so slightly, your hips bucking to feel him even deeper. "Shit— So good, Kook." You want to see him-his brows furrow like he's in pain as he bottoms out into you, the small dimple that appears when he tugs on his lower lip as he cums. But Jungkook doesn't let you. He pushes your hand, the one pressed against his chest, down and traps it under his own.

"Gonna make me cum, fuck." His hips find a new, quickened pace as he feels the pressure building, inching closer to his high. "Tell me where you want it, where do you want me, D.D?"

You turn your head slightly, lips brushing against Jungkook's ear as you whisper, "Inside."

Jungkook’s sure he’s imagining things now. Convinced all the fuckin’ thoughts of the stupid sun have played with his head, giving him sunstroke. He’s got all the symptoms—confusion, rapid pulse, a little dizzy.

“Yeah?” You turn your head as close as you can, lips against his ear, “Cum in me.”

His hips falter for a second, hearing you loud and clear that time. His head pushes into the crook of your neck, sinking his teeth into your shoulder as his hips stutter into you as his orgasm reaches its peak and empties himself into you. His moans muffled against your skin.

The room falls into a quiet stillness, broken only by the sound of labored breaths as you both come down from the high. Jungkook shifts first, moving onto his knees, his body still tense as he pulls away.

He watches as your pussy drips with his cum, fights the urge to plug you with his fingers and make you lick them clean again. Quietly reaches for the wipes, moving his hands over you to clean the mess he left up.

The silence is thick—suffocating. There’s no back and forth banter, no playful teasing, no lingering touches. Silence, that’s only broken by Jungkook standing to pull his underwear back on.

Jungkook doesn’t look at you, doesn’t say a word. He simply stands, collects himself, and walks out of the room, the door clicking shut behind him to go take a shower.

Twenty minutes later, Jungkook steps back to his room. Grey sweatpants hang low on his hips, water droplets down his torso that reflect against the sun that shines against his body.

“Yoongi and Jimin are downstairs, can stay here ‘til they fuck off.” He mutters, his voice flat, eyes looking everywhere else but at you.

You hum softly in response, your fingers tapping against your phone screen. Nothing important—just a message or twelve from your parents reminding you that missing dinner with the Kims tomorrow night would also mean missing your monthly allowance.

Jungkook sinks into his desk chair without a word, swinging it slightly from side to side. His eyes flit around the room before settling on a Rubik’s Cube on his desk. He picks it up, fingers twisting and turning the already-solved puzzle aimlessly.

“Comin’ back tomorrow?” Jungkook mumbles, not looking at you. “To the party, I mean.”

You let your phone drop beside you on the mattress, a small sigh escaping your lips, your eyes focusing on the view from the window instead. “Nah.”

Jungkook’s eyes shift to you, an eyebrow lifting slightly. “Nah?”

“Mhm, dinner with the husband-to-never-be.”

His jaw tightens instantly, frustration creeping into his chest. He doesn’t even understand why this shit bothers him, why he cares that you’re still entertaining some bullshit arranged marriage. You’re here, aren’t you? Out from under their thumb, with friends, a new life practically waiting for you if you’d just grab it. Instead, you’re still running to their dinners, jumping through hoops for their approval.

His tongue presses against the inside of his cheek, gaze dropping to the Rubik’s Cube in his hands. “What does the groom think of it all?”

You shrug slightly. “Not a groom if there’s no bride,” you say flatly. “Wants it, I guess. Dunno. Don’t really care what he thinks.”

“You guys have history?”

Another shrug. You glance at him briefly, unsure why he suddenly cares. “Guess so. Took his virginity. Fucked around here and there—nothing too deep. Doesn’t really matter, does it?”

Jungkook’s jaw tightens, fingers gripping the cube just a little harder. “Right,” he mutters, forcing a shrug of his own. He doesn’t know the guy, but he doesn’t need to. Adds him to his mental list of ‘Shit I Hate with a Burning Passion’ anyway. Not for any particular reason, though; just thinks he sounds like a dick.

“You need me to get you the morning-after pill?”

“Think I can manage,” you reply, your tone clipped but not cold.

Jungkook’s eyes drop to the Rubik’s Cube in his hand, twisting it aimlessly as his leg bounces like it has a mind of its own. He doesn’t know why annoyance seeps into his chest, spreading like a slow burn. You hadn’t done anything wrong. Neither had he.

But his head won’t stop spinning. A thousand thoughts colliding, crashing into each other. Every move he’s made since you showed up feels like a betrayal of himself—like you’ve pulled the strings and unraveled the tight rules he’s clung to for years.

“D.D?”

“Hm?”

Jungkook’s voice is steady, but there’s a tightness to it, like he’s bracing for impact. “Gonna be real honest with you—this ain’t more than sex to me.” His eyes stay locked on the Rubik’s Cube in his hands, fingers fumbling with the colors he’d carefully pieced together.

You blink, unsure if you heard him right. “Okay?” You almost laugh, but it comes out dry, bitter. Wonder if he thinks you’re a fucking idiot.

“I mean, like, I guess we are friends? Friendly? Whatever, I really ain’t here to do more than fuck. A release. A fuck. Not looking to do more than that, be more than that. Don’t need or want you falling in love or some shit, you know?”

You can’t fight the scoff that forces its way out of your mouth, a laugh following after. You tilt your head slightly, staring at him with disbelief, as if trying to figure out why he’s bothering to say it at all.

“And you’re telling me this because?” You quirk an eyebrow, more confused than anything else.

“Why wouldn’t I? I’m down to fuck around with you and all, you’re fun. But, if it feels more to you than that, now or later, I need you to know that it’s on you.”

“I think it’s really confident of you to think that I’d ever want anything more than that from you. Or that I’d ever expect it.”

Jungkook looks up from his Rubik’s Cube, surprise flickering across his face at the unexpected sting in your words. He’d been expecting some kind of reaction—maybe even a fight.

“Anyways, just fucking, right? So going downstairs and getting questioned isn’t really an issue, is it?”

“Right.” Jungkook nodded, his eyes on you as you stood up, slipping your phone into the back pocket of your jeans.

“Really not coming this weekend?”

You roll your eyes, a small laugh escaping. “Gonna cry if I don’t?”

“My dick might,” Jungkook smirked, tossing the Rubik’s Cube onto his desk.

“Have the day you deserve, Jeon Jungkook,” you teased, making your way toward the door.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, D.D.”

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Lately, Friday evenings had been reserved for getting ready to get shitfaced at the House of Balloons. Scanning your closet, trying on too many outfits in front of your full-length mirror, sitting at your vanity, applying makeup while listening to remixes and original instrumentals that Yoongi and Hobi had sent over.

Tonight, however, that wasn’t the case. You stood staring at your reflection in the mirror, wearing a yellow maxi dress adorned with a pink floral pattern. Your face scrunched up in disapproval—not because the dress was ugly (it wasn’t, it was a gorgeous custom piece from a high-end designer)—but because it just felt so… not you.

Florals, pastels, pinks, and frills had long been pushed to the back of your closet. Now, you reached for darker tones, pulling out leather jackets, black tees, and platform boots instead of dainty open-toed heels. You told yourself it was the influence of the House of Balloons, but was it really? Were you just trying to fit in, wearing clothes that made you feel like you belonged, like you were comfortable? Or had the environment simply enhanced who you truly were underneath it all?

The feeling of discomfort only intensified as you sat at the dinner table on the rooftop of Taehyung’s father’s hotel. The sun was setting, casting a warm glow over the city, but nothing about it felt warm to you. Glasses of champagne clinked around the table, the conversations flowing like the drink—mostly about hotels, business deals, upcoming events, and gossip about other elites. Most exhausting of all were the not-so-subtle hints about you and Taehyung being made for each other.

As dinner came to an end, you found yourself standing by the railing, eyes drifting over the sprawling view of Seoul. Skyscrapers jutted into the sky, busy roads weaving through the city, buildings stacked on top of one another in an endless, fast-paced rhythm. Seoul had always felt this way—like a place where everyone was constantly rushing, never pausing to breathe or truly take in what was right in front of them. It made you miss Daegu. More specifically, it made you miss the House of Balloons. Time felt different there. It didn’t race by. Instead, people held onto it, dragging it out, blending one day into the next so that moments felt stretched, lasting longer, unhurried.

“Pretty, right?” Taehyung’s voice slipped up behind you, his presence falling comfortably beside you as he leaned against the railing.

You hum in agreement, casting a quick glance at him. He was effortlessly handsome in his simple white button-down tucked neatly into black slacks, like something out of a picture-perfect magazine.

“Missed you at the last few events. Been busy?” His voice was casual, but the question carried an undertone of concern.

“Guess so. Been figuring some stuff out.” Your voice is soft as you take a glass of champagne from the server’s tray, careful to avoid looking him directly in the eye. It’s not a lie, exactly—just a half-truth.

“Is that so?” Taehyung glanced over at you, taking his own flute of champagne, swirling it casually. “And what are you figuring out?”

You let out a small, noncommittal shrug, sighing softly. There was no point in sharing your thoughts with him—he didn’t actually care. He’d pretend, of course, tell you he’d listen for hours, offer sweet advice, but you knew better. There was an agenda behind every word he said, and you weren’t interested in playing along.

“And you?” You ask, breaking the silence with your own question, a little more biting than you meant.

Taehyung shifted his stance, leaning back against the railing as he faced you, his gaze unwavering. “Been focusing on the business side of things. Working my way up to Dad’s position, you know how it is.”

You nod as you listen to him rant about meetings, brag about the perks, and complain about the workers—all so insincere, every word feeling more rehearsed than the last.

“Was thinking, maybe we could have dinner? Just us? No prying parents, somewhere nice… could even go to Paris if you want?” Taehyung’s suggestion hung in the air, insincere and rehearsed. You could almost hear the ‘how-to’ guide behind his words. Ask her to travel with you, a trip alone to the most romantic city in the world. She’ll love it! It’s where love blooms!

You almost laugh, but stop yourself, already tired of the charade. You open your mouth to reply, but just then, your phone buzzes, the vibration a small relief from the conversation.

“Sorry, give me a minute?” you offer with a forced smile, already walking away.

| 9:36pm

Unknown: rude

| 9:38pm

You: ???

| 9:38pm

Unknown: ???????

| 9:39pm

You: whos this

| 9:40pm

Unknown: are u really not coming

| 9:41pm

You: how did you even get my number you freak.

You roll your eyes, knowing exactly who it was. A small smile tugs at the corner of your lips, you lean into the armchair and sip on your wine thats bubbling in your hand.

| 9:45pm

starboy: definitely didnt steal yoongis phone and send it to myself.

| 9:47pm

You: dont u have coke to snort. get off my phone

| 9:47pm

starboy: sorry am i interrupting dinner with ur husband

| 9:49pm

You: fuck off

| 9:50pm

starboy: does he know i fucked his wifes titties

| 9:51pm

You: im blocking u. hope ur nose collapses.

| 9:52pm

starboy: r u rlly not coming.

| 9:52pm

starboy: asking for a friend.

| 9:53pm

starboy: friend = my dick. lol.

| 9:56pm

You: ur sick in the head. get immediate professional help.

| 9:58pm

starboy: weird way to say u want to roleplay as my therapist

| 9:58pm

You: i would have u put down.

Your father calls from the opposite side of the rooftop, snapping you from your thoughts. “Come on, honey, cars waiting downstairs.”

You stand up, stuffing your phone into the small purse slung over your shoulder. You exchange empty pleasantries with the Kims, hugging them in the most rehearsed way, all while plastering a smile that doesn’t reach your eyes.

The drive home is a muted affair, with your parents gushing about the Kims’ efforts. Their compliments don’t feel real, but they sure sound it, meant only to please themselves.

As you step into the penthouse, you’re immediately enveloped by the silence. It’s almost too much to bear, the quiet echo of the place swallowing you whole. Your parents, immediately reach for the red wine, filling three glasses without a word.

“Isn’t he just a charming young man?” Your mother coos, almost dreamily. “You’d be foolish not to snatch him up, honey. He won’t wait for you forever.”

You take a deliberate sip of the red wine, feeling the tension simmer. Your hand grips the glass a little too tightly, and you bite back the eye roll, stifling the groan that’s already building. “Can we not have this conversation again?”

“Don’t be difficult,” your father chimes in, his voice firm. “Your mother’s right. It’s time to grow up. You’ve been sneaking around, coming home at all hours, dressing like a mess. Stop this nonsense.”

“Really? You’re telling me to grow up when you’re the ones trying to marry me off to a man I have zero interest in, just so you can add more zeros to your bank account?” Your voice is sharper than you intended.

“That’s a little dramatic, don’t you think?” Your mother tilts her head, as if you’ve crossed some invisible line.

“Sometimes, you need to make sacrifices for the greater good.” Your father’s voice hardens, and his gaze sharpens. “Don’t be selfish.”

You glare at him, a deep, burning resentment filling your chest. The sick feeling in your stomach intensifies as your hands clench around the bottle of red wine, the glass rattling slightly. With a sharp shake of your head, you turn toward your parents and storm up the stairs, “Go fuck yourselves.”

You hear your mother’s footsteps follow you, no doubt ready to lecture you, but she’s stopped by your father’s voice, sharp and commanding.

“Leave it. She’ll learn.”

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The empty red wine bottle sits abandoned on your bedside table, its partner, an empty soju bottle, discarded carelessly next to it. You had grabbed three bottles from a nearby convenience store, hoping the walk would help burn off the fire that had ignited inside you.

Another sip of soju, another attempt to numb the growing heat. But it doesn’t help. Every little detail of the room makes your blood simmer. You can’t escape it — the anger, the frustration, the overwhelming sense of being trapped.

Your eyes land on your reflection in the mirror, and your tongue runs along the side of your cheek, a frustrated sigh escaping your lips. “Fuck it.” You mutter under your breath, rising from the bed. You grab the bag from the convenience store and storm into the ensuite.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

You stare at your reflection in the mirror, a small laugh escaping your lips as you rub a damp towel across your forehead, trying to wipe away the black dye staining your skin. Frustrated, you toss the towel aside and pick up the scissors. With a quick swig from the bottle, you tilt your head forward and snip. One snip turns into two, then three, and before you know it, you’ve lost count, mindlessly following a terrible YouTube tutorial.

Buzz.

| 4:30am

starboy: someone (definitely not me) smashed one of joons plant bottles. very unfortunate.

| 4:30am

starboy: if anyone asks it was valerie.

You let out a small laugh as you read the messages. Absolute moron. You glance at yourself in the mirror, fluffing your hair slightly. The haircut wasn’t bad… wasn’t amazing either. Still, it made you feel a tad better. You grab the packet of cigarettes from your bag, head to the small balcony attached to your room, and step outside.

| 4:36am

You: hope valerie kicks ur ass.

| 4:44am

starboy: why the fuck are u awake.

| 4:44am

You: wouldnt u like to know

| 4:45am

starboy: ur weird.

| 4:45am

starboy: r u still with ur husband

| 4:46am

You: home.

| 4:46am

starboy: then why r u awake. suspicious. r u still with him

| 4:47am

You: yes. u caught me :( balls deep in me rn

| 4:47am

starboy: what

| 4:47am

starboy: hahaha what

| 4:48am

starboy: lol r u really

| 4:48am

You: no.

| 4:48am

starboy: D.D ur not funny

| 4:49am

You: lil bit funny.

You flick the ash from your cigarette, the cool air mixing with the heat of the soju down your throat. You look at the messages on your phone, wonder why Jungkook is even texting you. Wonder what he’s doing, who he’s with, why he’s distracting himself on his phone to talk to you. Wonder why you text back, why you enjoy it, why you have to tell yourself his messages aren't that funny when you find yourself laughing.

| 4:50am

starboy: did u actually fuck him

| 4:51am

You: ??? no i didnt fuck the person who wants to marry me for money

| 4:51am

starboy: oh okay. good

| 4:52am

You: good?

| 4:52am

starboy: well. u let me hit raw.

| 4:53am

starboy: cant do that if we are fuckin other people, right?

| 4:54am

You: are you saying that you’re not fucking other people?

| 4:54am

starboy: yea, that

| 4:54am

starboy: so smart. using ur brain.

| 4:55am

You: :/

| 4:55am

starboy: titty pic?

| 4:56am

starboy: to celebrate only fucking 1 pair of tits.

| 4:56am

You: die.

| 4:57am

starboy: so hot when u talk dirty to me

| 4:57am

starboy: say it again.

| 4:58am

You: goodnight.

| 4:58am

starboy: gna cum

| 4:59am

starboy: kidding. lol. goodnight D.D.

You had tucked yourself into bed, the TV softly playing in the background as you fell asleep, the diffuser by your bed refreshing any hints of cigarette smoke that had seeped into your room. Peaceful. Peacefulness has been short-lived lately—now, your eyes snap open to the sound of your phone you forgot to silence.

“It’s half past five in the fucking morning, Jungkook.”

“Hey, D.D.” You can hear the smirk in his voice as he speaks softly into the phone. You should cuss him out, call him an idiot, hang up, and let yourself fall back to sleep, but instead, you push the phone closer to your ear.

“Hey.”

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

#jeon jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fic #jungkook angst #jungkook #jungkook ff #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #bts fanfic #bts

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iwillneverforgiveyousunghanbin · 6 months ago

Text

love lies licky

~masterlist~ wc: 2k reader: afab!reader — reader is supposed to be like kristen stewart in love lies bleeding. you get the picture warnings: smut 18+; MINORS DNI!!! -- specific warnings under the cut; also mentions of crime/drugs/violence but no real specifics, just a backdrop; bad relationships with fathers summary: 80’s crime/city noir AU — reader is the owner of a seedy but successful gym and prettyrichboy!ricky walks in one night inquiring about a membership -- inspired by 2024 film love lies bleeding starring kstew and katy o'brian devastated by how long it too me to post something. truly sorry about that. i literally love you all so much!! enjoy.

EXPLICIT 18+ SMUT WARNINGS: oral (reader receiving), public sex, a little bit of stalking/watching, mentions of crime/drugs/violence, etc. but not overly dark— just a fun backdrop

—

three.

two.

one.

it’s the kid across from you that just finished his set, but somehow you’re the one out of breath. black hair pushed back except for a few strands that have fallen into his eyes. a heart monitor band around his growing bicep as he places the free weights back onto the rack. veins popping from his slender wrists.

it’s at this moment you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror— jaw dropped as you recline back on the leg press. how long had you been sitting there?

you stand up, wondering if he’s noticed you yet. wouldn’t be the first time you’d snuck a glance in the past week. and it’s not like he’d called you out on it before.

and even if he did, you had a pretty good cover. you own the gym. as far as a legal defense, you’re just an extra attentive fitness manager.

keeping an eye out for your most interesting patron.

you make your way over to the front desk, reminded of some new member paperwork you’d been neglecting to file for a few hours. you should probably finish that before closing.

and you have every intention to do just that. but a particular exhale suddenly comes from the other side of the room. and it’s just out of your hands.

you set your stack of papers aside, walking back out onto the gym floor. you spot him instantly: on the leg press you’d previously been watching him from. he’s got a good amount of weight on it.

you’re actually concerned it might be too much.

when he’d first signed up for your gym a couple months ago, you’d actually fought the urge to laugh straight in his face. not to be misunderstood— he was a handsome kid. a tall, thin figure dressed in a designer coat with a pretty face to match. one that didn’t like to get roughed up much. he could be a runway model. or one of those cute teeny bopper boys that your niece likes.

buy your gym had a bit of reputation. it wasn’t really a place for boys like him. it was rough around the edges. maybe even a little seedy. but it’s where every bodybuilder went to get the best winning physique. results guaranteed.

“hi,” he’d said quietly with a polite smile. you frowned, removing your headphones off of only one ear.

“we don’t have a public restroom,” you’d replied, popping a mid-size bubblegum bubble in his face. “sorry.”

“oh no, uh,” he stuttered, hand reaching to scratch the back of his neck. “i wanted to sign up for a membership.”

wide eyes was an understatement. you couldn’t believe what’d just come out of his mouth. this little rich boy thought he could just waltz into your gym and join? did he really think he could survive that?

“get lost, kid,” you said, smacking your blue bubblegum. “you’re in over your head. how ‘bout you try one of those luxury gyms around the corner? probably more your style.”

he shook his head fervently. “no, wait! i—... i wanna join this gym.”

you raised an eyebrow at him. “yeah? and why the hell would you wanna do that?”

“because i want to do this,” he replied, brow furrowed in determination. “i wanna prove that i can do this.”

you stared at him for a long moment. you’d had a lot of people beg to join your gym before. and you’d had no problem showing them all the door. but there was something about this kid. you couldn’t tell if you wanted to watch him fail or succeed.

an exasperated sigh left your lungs as you pulled open your desk drawer and threw a booklet of paperwork at him. “fine. but i am not responsible for any injuries— physical, emotional, spiritual, medical, or financial— that you incur while at the gym.”

“financial?” he repeated warily.

“take a look around,” you said, gesturing to the worse-for-wear gym. “padlock your belongings all you want, but if someone here wants into your locker, they’re getting in. and if you walk around looking like that, you might as well just tattoo a giant target on your back.”

he looked down at the ground, swallowing nervously before meeting your gaze again. “understood.”

you couldn’t help but laugh. maybe he was just some rich shit looking for cheap steroids. he’d find that and more at your gym. you didn’t really care. but as you picked up a pen and handed it to him, his eyes lit up with excitement.

“what’s your name, kid?” you asked, taking a sip of the warm beer you’d left out on the welcome desk.

he looked up from the paperwork he was rapidly filling out, smiling as he answered...

“ricky.”

—

you hadn’t paid much attention to him at first. you figured he’d last a week at your gym at best. and you’d predicted accurately how that week would go. he was mugged three days in a row, approached to buy drugs persistently every half hour, and even took a pretty nasty punch to the gut from one of your best patrons: a heavyweight world champion powerlifter named steve.

but when monday rolled around the next week, you were taken aback to see ricky walking through the doors at 10 p.m. sharp.

he gave you a little wave. you nodded at him confusedly.

and then he went straight to work. just like he did the next night. and the next night. until two months had suddenly gone by.

and wouldn’t you know it— all of that hard work had begun to actually pay off. his arm muscles had grown significantly and his chest had broadened as well. of course, he was never gonna be the size of the regular bodybuilders in your gym. they were all on lethal amounts of steroids anyway.

but he looked... good. and you found his dedication to be kind of admirable. he was tougher than you ever could’ve imagined.

so after a couple months, you’d started moseying over from your welcome desk or whatever machine you were using to offer some help. maybe it was form correction or a spot or just some lackluster encouragement, but he seemed grateful to receive whatever it was you were willing to give him.

“if you don’t keep those fucking knees bent,” you’d corrected, lit cigarette in between your fingers and blue bubblegum twisted around your tongue.

“sorry, sorry,” ricky apologized, correcting his form immediately. “it’s just harder like this.”

“i bet it is, kid,” you’d replied, shaking your head. “thought you’d gotten stronger, but i guess not.”

“i have and you know it,” he protested, rolling his eyes. you smirk at him as he catches your eye in the mirror. “and i’m not a kid. i’m three years younger than you.”

“you’re a kid as long as you’re still living on daddy’s money,” you said, clucking your tongue disapprovingly. “some of us don’t even have a dad.”

the weight dropped from ricky’s hand, crashing onto the floor with a bang. he looked around awkwardly, picking it back up and mumbling, “sorry.”

“what? did that make you uncomfortable?” you asked, taking a drag. “figures. why’d you even sign up for this gym in the first place?”

ricky finished his set, placing the weights down on the ground carefully. “this is the gym you go to if you want the best results.”

“it certainly is,” you agreed with a smile. “but i assume you’d never been to a place on the wrong side of town like this before. like a baby deer in headlights, is what i’d call it.”

he shook his head. “you’re right. i guess i hadn’t. but i wanted to prove i could do this. and i thought this was my only shot.”

“you said that before,” you remarked with a frown. “‘prove i could do this’. why would you of all people have anything to prove to anyone?”

ricky shrugged. “just because i have a father, doesn’t mean he was happy to have me.”

after a moment, you huffed a laugh. “alright, kid. i get it.”

“and i also heard the owner of this gym was a total smokeshow,” he added, walking over to the water fountain and leaving you behind.

you fight a smile. “and?”

“and i wasn’t disappointed.”

—

you sit down on a raised utility bench, straddling it as you observe ricky at the leg press. it might be your fault he’d increased the weight so much— you’d been telling him to put some more emphasis on growing his leg muscles for a few days now. not that he didn’t already have good legs, but it’d be a shame if all the upper body work made him unproportional.

he’s handling it surprisingly well. good enough form to get him through a set. you watch as a bead of sweat drips down the side of his face.

and gasp softly when you unconsciously grind into the bench your straddling.

you’d like to claim you couldn’t help it. that it was a little mistake that you’d never make again. that you cared at all about being professional.

but you can’t. because you’re pressing yourself back into the cushion of the seat in a matter of seconds.

blame hormones. blame the time on the clock. blame the two beers you’d chugged within a half hour of each other or the adrenaline from the fight you broke up earlier in the night.

but the truth is, it’s his fault. it’s all him.

you look up from the cushion beneath you, expecting to see him completing his set, but instead, he’s sitting reclined on the machine— an amused expression on his face as he stares back at you.

“what muscles are you targeting over there?” he asks, one eyebrow raised. “pelvic floor?”

your mouth hangs open, not really sure what you could possibly say to deflect this situation.

ricky stands up, walking over to you carefully with his arms folded across his chest. “you know, that’s why i like this place so much. a lot of gyms are run by some corporate fuck who’s never even touched the equipment. but even the owner of this gym’s dedication to fitness is truly inspiring.”

“it was my dad’s gym,” you admit suddenly. “he willed it to me when he died.”

ricky looks at you thoughtfully before snorting. “i bet he’d be proud to see you using the equipment to its full potential.”

“i don’t care what he’d think,” you replied, shaking your head. “he’s dead.”

ricky smiles at this as he sinks to his knees in front of you. “lucky.”

he raises his brow quickly, asking for permission as his hands hover over your thighs. you nod slowly until his palms sink into your soft skin, kneading then gruffly. you push yourself closer to him, spreading your legs to show him where you really want him.

“a little desperate, hm?” ricky asks with a smirk, pushing his long fingers up the gaps of your short-shorts all the same. “don’t let any of these meatheads ever take you for a spin?”

“s’unprofessional,” you answer as he hooks his fingers around the waistband of your shorts and pulls them down your legs— discarding them onto the gym floor.

you were never wearing any underwear.

“oh yeah? well what would you call what you’re doing right now?” he asks, pushing you gently down until your back is flat against the bench. hands gripping your thighs, he inches in closer until his lips finally connect with your core. “you know there’s still people in here right?”

you look around at the lingering gym members still pushing through their workouts. fuck ‘em, you think as you sigh contentedly. “i’d call it understandable.”

he grins before diving into you, lapping at all the wetness that’s already gathered at your opening for him. he takes it on his tongue, bringing it to your most sensitive area and swirling persistent circles around it.

you’re whimpering and you couldn’t be more surprised. the pretty boy gives good head? you thought guys like him usually used their money as foreplay instead.

your hands reach instinctively for his biceps, admiring up close how much he’s improved his own physique. they look even better wrapped around your legs, though.

you give them a squeeze and ricky’s lips pop off of you with a smack. the corner of his lips upturns cheekily, your juices dripping from his chin.

“not too bad, right?” he asks, eyes shining as he seeks your approval. “for a guy like me, i mean?”

you smile, running a hand through his hair and tugging at the roots. “not too bad at all.”

the reassurance lights up his face as he continues lapping at your heat with renewed passion. your climax approaches rapidly as he switches to sucking— the steady, quick suction on your clit sending you over the edge.

“fuck, oh my god,” you whine, your grip tightening around ricky’s arm as your thighs squeeze him closer to you. “i—… m’cumming.”

“fucking gorgeous,” he moans into your cunt as you ride out your high. a few deep breaths and you sit up, looking at the mess dripping from you and onto the bench. you can guarantee it’s not the first time thay bench has been covered in someone’s cum.

ricky hands you the container of sanitary wipes on the bench next to yours.

“don’t you think we should wait until we’re all done?” you ask with a smirk, eyeing the bulge that’s grown in his shorts.

but to your surprise, ricky shakes his head and stands up from the floor— walking back over to the leg press.

“back to work,” he says with a grin. “these hamstrings aren’t gonna build themselves. maybe you should get some work done, too.”

why that little shit—

you grab your cutoff denim shorts off the ground, grabbing the pack of cigarettes and a lighter from the back pocket.

if this kid wants to play…

you’ll just have to play, too.

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dhampling · 11 months ago

Text

oh, mother fem!reader, 3.3k

A whimper at your feet as you nurse. The way he ebbs at the corner of your maternal tableau. The flit of an incalescent glaze before he nestles into your houseskirt as if a child caught mid-swindle seeking some kind of sanctuary. - It's the mummy fic. cw: lactation, breeding mentions, age regression (?), smut, astarion as a content warning, humping, feeding, afab reader, MUMMY, dadstarion, cockwarming w/c: 3.3k

Astarion looks over his shoulder from the homespun carpet, book limp in hand.

Like the written word could hold any comparable weight whilst you’re there decalescent and milk-swollen above him.

A whimper at your feet as you nurse. The way he ebbs at the corner of your maternal tableau.

The flit of an incalescent glaze before he nestles into your houseskirt as if a child caught mid-swindle seeking some kind of sanctuary. The way he strokes something so very gentle at your swollen shin, head stirring as he searches for purchase atop an aching thigh.

Your eyes leisurely as they cut between the infant latched to your heavy breast and the restless chit by your legs on the ground.

“Hm?”

The youngling gurgles in sleepy succour.

Astarion rolls his head forward with a lazy smile, saccharine in holding his tongue between teeth.

“This. All of this. Dreamy, isn’t it?”

His voice is silken against the low crackle of the fire. The shallow suckling breaths at your chest.

“Mhm.”

Your fatigue is wholly joyous in its maudlin haze, your agreement a free and light hum.

The man at your heel, the child he gave you; the wonder as he watches on - her little face scrunching as she swallows, the hint of a cough as you lightly adjust where she lies in the crook of your arm. A small coo.

There’s a strange look in his eye. Not the reverent fatherly gaze you’d come to expect from your husband in the months since you’d become a mother. Instead he seems fallible.

Round-eyed, gentle;-

Lamblike. The restless sheepling. Marvelling and timid.

“You’re a vision.”

Your eyes meet and you dare him to hold the stare in his yielding state.

You’ve become somewhat of a recluse in spending time with your daughter, and she certainly isn’t begrudging of the tangle of hair atop your head, nor the span of your torso kept so soft and warm on which for her to lie. The heavy swell of your breasts, the intermittent spotting where milk bleeds through your tailored house clothes.

It’s not that you necessarily feel any certain way about your physical attributes at present but you’ve definitely felt cleaner. Been better presented.

Mother.

Astarion’s face is pure butter, muddled and waxen as his brows draw together. Quietly roused in a moment of recondite.

Whatever runs through his head is new.

Lashings of fresh rain hammer the windowpane. The claw of winter, dark streets; seeping stone. The umber flickers of the fire on the wall. Heat licks the side of your face closest.

Glowing.

She groans a gentle burble. Her lips smack together softly as she finishes and you lift her from your chest, tucking your breast back into your slip and bringing her into the crook of your arm.

There’s a moment where his head tilts as if to speak.

“She’s tired.” You whisper whilst running a finger along her cheek. Small eyes of glimmering ruby, lids lulling open and closed. More quiet gurgling as she fidgets.

“I’ll take her. Rest, love.’

Astarion stands from crossed legs, twirling around to lean over the little one; over you. Runs his wiggling fingers over her small frame in little taps.

‘My darling girl! Princess of the Kingdom Sleep.’

Large hands lift her from your chest into his. A gentle rock as he does so.

‘This simply won’t do, will it? Let’s take you upstairs.”

He taps her nose on ‘you’. She sneezes violently.

You watch them both from the lounger as he steps through the arch and round the corner, up the spiral staircase and padding softly to your shared chamber. Balmy quiet. More rain.

Your first Lover’s Day as three feels poignant.

Despite keeping from the sun - and therefore sleeping the actual day away - in the stormy night your home brims sweet with ardour. A bubble of somnolence; a barge at sea.

A year of calm. Stillness. Establishing yourselves in your respective newfound freedoms and figuring out who you are; both alone and together. A conscious effort and one rewarded just months earlier with her.

“You’re so… soft with her.’

You don’t hear him reenter the room as he comes behind you and closes the door to the den with two chalices in hand, a bottle in the other. He doesn’t miss the brow quirk.

‘Dealcholised. Don’t worry’

The top uncorked.

‘I fail to see the fun in it myself, but ‘needs must’ and all that.”

A hint of the player’s tone. You laze back as he returns to his place at your heel, handing you a glass of honey mead.

“I’m her mother. Of course I’m soft with her.”

You take a large sip and recline.

Astarion snakes an arm around your leg, leaning in and planting a gentle kiss to the flushed skin.

“You. Her mother.’

He takes a large gulp and swills the sweet tincture around his teeth.

‘I still can’t quite believe it. The baby part, that is -’

A shake of his head. A brief grimace, puzzled yet pleased. Wholly adorative and you can see the retrospective of recent memories fly through his head.

‘You as a mother on the other hand. As if it were meant -’

Kiss.

‘To’

Kiss.

‘Be.”

His lips close on your shin, habitual breath fanning cool over the hot flesh.

“Mhm?”

He looks up at you with those big round eyes once more, a reticent smile. Head tilting to you coyly.

“You. You’re a vision. An absolute vision.”

“You like it?”

“It’s-’

He falters in that moment of recondite from before. Seeks avail.

‘I watch you care for her and it makes me weak at the knees. Your little love.’

The last words whispered in fond awe. His hands wave around his face in a considered manner.

‘You provide for her, hells. Nurture her. Hold her close to you in this beautiful, unconditional love; no matter the hour.’

Your love for him. He wonders if it will stretch to the words on the tip of his tongue, but he’d be a fool not to try.

‘And I-”

“You think you might want it too?”

He sags. Still round-eyed, but the corners of his mouth noticeably dip.

“Yes. I- I suppose I do.”

You’re not surprised, though you’re impressed that he voices it so plainly. In your mind every instance he’s retreated into you plays in vivid colour. Each time he’s held you close, so innocently; as a child may a parent. Not often. Not boldly. But the want is there.

Maybe it’s the taste of the mead, despite the lack of alcohol. Fizzy and heady.

But no. You want this. You want to show him you care in the most innate way you’re able; unearthed in the way you care for her.

Your darling. The Rogue of the Gate. Brittle-boned and weak following years on years of isolation and hurt but here; eyes aflame, wide open at your heel and healing.

He runs his hand absentmindedly up and down your leg as you ponder.

“What do you want, my love? Tell me.”

Your voice is pure honey as you keen into his touch a little further. Yielding. Relishing the pads of his cool fingers; a salve to your inflamed limbs.

The whine from earlier. You remember it. The bridled snare of his tense coil, watching you mothering his child and aching for you to cosset him too. The soft mindless touches. The way you feed her from your breast as you do him from your neck. His knee-jerk rutting against your leg.

He sits in sullen silence for a moment.

Then, his eyes meet yours once more. A wary hand slips up to your thigh; deft fingers circling the doughy inner skin. You part your legs at his touch.

“It’s okay, darling boy.’

You lean forward from your slouch and hold his head in your hands, legs open; back arched as your thighs remain open. Low and soft as you bring your mouth down.

‘It’s okay. What do you need?’

Astarion shivers. Guttural. Frozen in sheer terror. Lust as you cradle his head close to your aching breasts. Real, unfettered lust. Every sprawling emotion, each moment spent searching for someone to see him with comfort in their eyes in those early hours two hundred years ago.

He sometimes forgets he’s allowed to feel anything remotely desirable when he’s like this. Forgets he’s with you. Forgets he can covet you and still keep you past dawn.

Old habits die hard.

‘Come back to me now, sweetheart.’ You whisper, tongue ghosting over the outer contour of his ear as he continues his ministrations at the inner skin of your thigh. Tips flushed red.

‘Come to mummy.”

The groan spilling from his lips is inhuman. The hesitant hand diving between your legs turns to an iron grasp in record time.

Pliable. Ass pert on the sofa cushions.

“Can I?” He whispers, clutching feverishly at the pillowy skin.

“Use your words, Astarion. Come on.”

His ear is his soft spot. Tender, sensitive; flushed with blood from waking bites.

“Can I?”

Your eyes are featherlight as they roll into your skull. Burning cheek, thighs strong.

“Please.’

His head lifts from the crease of your knee as he braces himself to stand - eyes meeting yours in a sheer devotion that wracks every inch of your scalding frame.

‘Come to me.”

You shuffle so there’s room for him atop the cushions, and he crawls into the space between you legs as you hold his arms. Your angel. Forlorn with a lack of direction akin to that on his face when you first met. His eyes weary; heavy in their low-lidded gaze.

The parting of your legs once more. The way he inhales.

“Mother. Mother.”

“I’m here, love. My darling. I’m here.”

Astarion queries the break in your thighs once more with a desperate hand. Leans in closer with a small choked sob.

“What do you need, my love? What can I give you?”

Your ability to provide for him. Enough to make him hard each time - the fact you offer it freely in his home, atop his embroidered cushions; the primal need to comfort him with your body. He resonates with it. Yearns for it. Freely given and given free.

“Can I touch you, please?”

Thighs part as bullrushes in wading season. You think about his pale prick, standing alert in his trousers.

“Come here.”

You expect his hand to resume the agonising crawl up your thigh, but instead it moves to palm at your wetness quicker than you think. His leaky bride. He searches for evidence of your desire and he finds it in abundance through the cloth of your undergarments, and instead of the typical smarmy response you’d come to anticipate-

He simply gasps.

Mouth heavy with spit. Thick with joy, lust; ripe having seen the proof of your need for him. To take care of his ruined body and learning mind.

Your hands move to your chest as he looms over you, peeling the slip down from your breasts so you can relieve the ache that wracks them. Heavy. Painful in their retention, nipples distended as wholly engorged with milk.

“Fuck.”

“Swearing in front of mummy? Rather unbecoming, no?”

His eyes roll back into his skull, this time from jovial relief. He’s still in there. No disassociation, no hurt as you sigh, as your hands move to relieve the ache from your teats; rolling your nipples in practised tandem and riding the air with the subsequent high.

He groans once more. Straddles your lap as his hips move to hump the air by your soft belly. Desperate thrusts. Wanting. Needing more and more of your validation.

It’s not until your aching nipples do something most unexpected that you moan alongside him. Longing. Your lover - his face now spattered with your drips. Forehead, cheekbones; the space between his nose and lips; all adrip with the sweetest fluid he’s ever been baptised with. Milk dribbles from each of your teats and flows into the one neat pearl hanging from each.

Astarion’s eyes meet yours, and in that moment you feel it deep in your abdomen.

“You want to taste?’

A meek nod. A solemn promise. Those lips of a charlatan.

“Can I do something first? Please?”

You wonder how many silken lies have spilled from that tongue in some desperate sense of bravado over the years. How the performance has no audience here any longer.

“Tell me. What do you want?”

You struggle against the moan desperate to spill from your lips. You want nothing more than to become clay in his capable hands, and yet you know you must remain as you are. Stoic. Liberal with a chiding tongue should he need it.

“Will you warm me while I do?”

“Are you hard, my love?”

“Please, mother.’

He lifts your wrist from your chest to the apex of his thighs, manoeuvring your palm by the back of your hand so it presses deep on his aching cock. Hard. Pulsing. Searching for somewhere to bury deep inside and be warm in comfort.

‘Mummy. Please.”

His use of ‘mummy’ throws you a million miles off course on a wayward comet of pure desire, hurtling through a new sky in hearing it in his downy timbre. A mere whisper. You see for a brief moment the small elven boy he once was as he seeks comfort in you, ears out at a point, eyes folded something crestfallen.

Your tits ache as you reach down to free your cunt, rolling the linen down your legs in a sweat-laden stupor and throwing the piece aside as Astarion strokes his cock.

“Fill me, sweet one. Let me look after you.”

Whatever remaining crumbs of resolve he has dissipate at the sound of your voice, rolling to pull you onto his lap and holding you in a hover above his fat head, slit leaking clear as it rests against his shirt.

There’s a moment where you look at him fondly, as an equal.

Then as you sink onto the pointedly hard length of his weeping cock you see the softening of his face and you want nothing more in all the realms than to baby him like he wants of you. To hold him close, soothe his aching need for your body; for your guidance and wit, for your humour and want. For the way you smell warm, like domestic heaven; so much like someone who cares for him as if he were born directly from you.

A part of him was. The part of him now alive and breathing, asleep upstairs in the cot beside your shared bed.

This part of him however now feels it close. Feels the way your spongy walls yield to him. The way you want to please him and be pleased.

You allow yourself one roll of your hips as you shift to accommodate his sharp length, holding a moan in the back of your throat and wriggling so you sit comfortably above him. This isn’t about the fervent dance to reach a peak. It’s for him.

Leaking teats now at eye level, large droplets of milk freed in your shifting. He pulses inside you as he asks with big round eyes. A taste - and who are you to deny your favourite boy?

With a nod from you, his lids flutter shut and his tongue brushes sharp fangs to lick softly at your nipple. The sweet cloud of nectar dissipates on the surface and his whimper rocks you straight to your core, the brief wince as you feel the kick of his cock inside you.

Hungry. The only way you can describe the sound biting at his throat.

“So good! So good.”

He nods softly at your encouragement, looking to you once more; seeking permission to take a wholly distended nipple into his waiting mouth.

You arch forward in response. A gentle ‘yes’.

The veiny flesh of your breast forms a lightning-visceral halo of blues and greens around his soft curls as you look down. Wet kitten licks, soft suckling; coaxing the warmth from within as you card a steady hand through his hair.

His hips begin to roll a little. Your other hand moves to anchor him.

“Ah-ah. Rest now. My beautiful boy. You’re doing so well. You don’t need to move, do you?”

He shakes his head frantically around your nipple. A furious refute.

“Good. Good boy. Do this for you.”

There’s a moment where he loses himself fully in the taste of you. The sheer mass of your newly-fattened nipples, the way they feel as he pushes against; over them with his cool wet tongue. Soft yet aching. Rubbery. Abundant. Listens to the rain hammering the window.

Then a hand reaches out. Grabs at your clothed waist, palm basking in the body heat; lifting your skirt just a little further up your thighs to gain access to the bud of your swollen clit and smooth the hood up and over. Exposed. Curious as to how far he can go.

When he starts to circle the white-hot flesh you know you have to focus.

This isn’t about you.

And yet he murmurs something under his breath. You aren’t sure if you’ve heard properly at first.

“Want to feel you cum around me.”

Astarion can’t meet your eyes as he says it. All sense of grandiloquence he’s ever shown anyone lost behind flush cheeks. Vulnerability.

“Say it again.”

“I want to give to you.”

“You want to give to me, or you want me to give it to you?”

He stops. Looks at you with a bewildered furrow.

“I want you to stop touching me and focus on yourself. Use me, sweetheart. Take your pleasure.”

The furrow remains for a moment or two as he stews in blank thought.

“Talk to me. I can do it, I’m so close already.” He laughs shyly with an eager pulse of his cock.

“You want to spill in me again? Make mummy round once more, sweet one?’

A brisk nod. Desperation deep set as he looks you over.

“It’s okay! You’re allowed to want this, to take it.’ You lean in to his ear once more and bite calmly at the tip.

His eyes screw shut and his lips purse together.

‘I want you to do this.”

And he cums. Hard.

Tries to bounce you on his lap in order to gain some friction in the waves of brutal frustration biting at his core, grunting and wailing as he grabs at whatever of you he can. Hips, ass, thighs; terse and hot.

And you simply coo.

Refusing to let him move you, nor take solace in the friction you so willingly often provide. His abdomen tenses something staccato as he takes what little purchase he can and tries to push into you further.

And then, he begins to weep.

Your hand moves to his hair once more, bringing him in to your chest as he attempts to hump you through his climax.

“There now. Good boy.”

Tears as he finishes. Cold-heavy sobs. Mouth absentmindedly searching for the soft of your neck in the rolling haze and biting. Gnawing. Looking for the pulse point now permanently marked by two bloody spots.

He feels the nod you so freely give and sinks his fangs deep past the skin.

Ruts up with his now softened cock, suckles like a small lamb. The sluice of his spend pooling on his pelvis.

“Good boy. Take what you need, always. I’ve got you.”

The haze passes with each sip from you, blood puddling under his tongue and down his perfect throat. The frustration melts into sheer joy as he hugs you close in small peals of laughter.

“Gods. That was -’

He pauses for one last sip before tilting his head to look at yours.

‘That was phenomenal, love.’

You take a moment to look him over for any signs of discomfort, anything that might indicate he’s putting on a front for you; and there’s nothing. No veil. His eyes are empty in post-orgasmic bliss and he looks so incredibly beautiful in such joy.

‘I’m wholly spent. I really am.”

You laugh at his breathy shakes.

“Mummy is here whenever the urge should strike, darling. You know this.”

He rolls his eyes and grins.

“Oh mother. How could I forget?”

#my writing #astarion x reader #astarion #astarion ancunin #dadstarion #nsft

252 notes · View notes

sandwhitches · 6 months ago

Note

hi, i am here for your writing event if i may request something. can i have spf 50 w/ sakusa and anything by adrianne lenker? thanks a lot, have a good day

a/n: i literally dashed to my laptop to write this i LOVE adrianne lenker AAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!! thank u for ur request, enjoy! :3 (also!! i was unexpectedly busy this afternoon but i’m totally gonna get to the other requests soon, sorry yall!)

𝐀𝐍𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 | 𝐬. 𝐤𝐢𝐲𝐨𝐨𝐦𝐢

genre: fluff

content: gn. reader, established relationship, one reference to an injury requiring stitches (no graphic detail)

wc: 572

this is a part of my summer writing event!!! please feel free to send some requests my way :3

It’s never been odd for the two of you to sit in your carefully tenderly woven blanket of silence for hours on end. Sakusa, who is without a doubt the quietest person you’ve ever known, still manages to have a myriad of words behind his eyes.

With every lazy blink in your direction and delicate shift of his thumb against your hip, it feels as if everything he’s thinking is practically tangible, sitting on the palm of your hand. What is he saying now when he noses into the skin of your neck?

As you pretend to doze off in his arms, you realize it’s always been this way, that there is never a moment in which you knew Sakusa without knowing him. Long gone are the days of high school in which too much class time was spent pretending not to see the other staring, hearts beating with the thrill of a new crush, wondering who will cross the line you’ve been toeing for months.

You’ve learned, though, that it doesn’t take much to love Kiyoomi, he’s made himself all too easy to read for you. Perhaps this is the result of everything that led you to this moment, swallowed in his arms as the late afternoon sun begins to bleed into inky twilight.

After high school, it was the moments spent biking back and forth from each other’s dormitories too late in the night, that first December in your cramped apartment in which you two got ahead of yourself when sending out invitations for a holiday dinner, or the empathetic kisses placed on your forehead as the doctor stitched up your results of getting too crafty cutting a cucumber.

Somewhere along that line, you’re sure lies the gradual formation of a moment in which words no longer needed to be present for a conversation. Touch substitutes for dozens of different amorous declarations that you both already know, the feeling of his slowing breath on your skin tells you that he doesn’t want to move for a very long time.

To you, the idea of spending the rest of your life with someone who knows you as thoroughly as Sakusa used to be daunting, the terrifyingly constant exposure to someone who is always watching. In spite of this, there’s nothing that brings you more comfort now than knowing that Kiyoomi will always know exactly what’s on your mind without the need to ask, and there’s nothing that brings him more comfort than giving you exactly what you need before you know you need it.

There’s one thing Sakusa has learned about love: it is perfectly simple to do when it is spent on the right person. You, in his mind, are without a doubt always going to be the right person, the only person he doesn’t mind watching him in return.

Sakusa knows that you haven’t actually been asleep, he can’t be fooled by the delicate display of your eyes so lightly shut. His face comes closer to yours, pressing a featherlight kiss on each of your eyelids, I know you’re awake, his kisses say. Just as he expected, your eyes flutter open, and he’s rendered speechless sometimes when it hits him that it is his arms you sleep in every night.

Maybe things like luck and fate are real, maybe they’re not, but just this once Kiyoomi wants to believe that this is how things were always going to be.

#sakusa x reader #sakusa kiyoomi #hq sakusa #haikyuu sakusa #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa fluff #sakusa imagines #🥝.sakusa #☀️.summer event 2k24

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phoenixeclipse-lmkau · 2 months ago

Note

ISAT is In Stars And Time, if you have the time, watch "So, You're Stuck in a Time Loop!" by youtuber JelloApocalypse, its goes deep enough that you should have gotten the gist of the game without getting spoiled on the ending.

also very sorry that i haven't been crumbing, its crunchtime for me irl and i am ALMOST FREE, so i cant write my crumbs right now :(

also who cares if what you write isn't canon, its great to read all the same. off shoots and what-ifs are always interesting to read.

also, before i send, one last angst crumb:

what if reader was too late in the forest? if the wolf got to landing an injury on one or both of the cubs? knocking one out or perhaps fatally injuring them? imagine how the conscious/surviving cub would react to seeing reader running in to fend off the wolf too late? and imagine them seeing reader attempting to patch up injuries, not knowing if its too late or not.

if they return to their original forms in diyu, well, i guess that would be an easy way to break the curse? sun wukong already escaped once, he could probably do it again. so easy curse break, unless it reapplies itself the moment he leave diyu. would be terrible luck tho, to be a monkey cub all alone far away from the group, unless he was lucky to pop out near them.

i like my angst as much as i like my timeloops, haha.

also feel free to slice my asks if it makes your life easier, i don't mind if you jump back and forth or only answer some, or take longer to answer some than others.

Okay so the ideas of “In Stars and Time” are so cool! I really like what I have seen, personally I don’t care about spoilers so you don’t have to worry about spoiling anything for me! The video was a really fun watch, though with how much it jumped around it was rather confusing, but didn’t really give too many spoilers. Had some fun laughs during it.

OKIE!! I love angst so onto it!!

If one of the cubs get hurt to the point Reader has to worriedly patch them up, she would do so when they get to the village. Carefully wrapping them in cloth as she applies pressure to make sure the bleeding stops.

Throughout their lives neither Wukong nor Macaque have ever had to have someone take care of them like this. Someone frantically taking care of them, and fussing over their injuries and making sure that they are getting better.

For them to wake up or see Reader take care of their mate would send them spiraling in instincts for better or for worse- Their VERY selfish nature would more than likely to go almost full Yandere pretty quickly after that. Of course that would mean they’d have to break the curse (Not that they aren’t going to go Yandere they definitely will be going Yandere in this au, it is a Yandere au after all. They don’t like it when- Ah spoilers hehe~)

Now if one of the cubs are sent to Diyu. If one of the cubs is sent to Diyu then they would undoubtedly return to their regular forms, not only one but both would actually.

The curse that holds the two of them actually breaks if they are separated as is was a curse set to the both of them at the same time with the same spell. So if this were to happen there would be no more curse. (Whoever was sent to the Diyu would cause absolute devastation there though as they break out)

In this AU the DIYU had only captured Wukong the first time, however I know that in JTTW both of them end up in the DIYU during their fight. So we know that they can both end up there, personally in my au Macaque and Wukong are relatively equal in power. Each having their own skills that they are better in of course.

But basically if one were to die, then they would revert back to their Warlord Form, which would definitely freak Reader out. And she would get captured A LOT faster, at this point they wouldn’t kill her, they don’t see her as wife material quite yet but since they won’t kill her it would still happen.

Reader would end up on Flower Fruit Mountain starting off as a servant, one who the cubs of the mountain really like.

And it wouldn’t take too long for the warlords to fall in love with her when she’s always by them, as afraid as she is of them.

If this were to happen they’d find her fear cute at first, so it wouldn’t be as soft of a love story at first (I use soft because it’s the only word I can think of, Wukong and Macaque try to be soft but we all know court-napping isn’t actually soft)

Ba: “What is this woman doing here my king?”

Wukong: “She is going to be a servant.”

Ba: “You both seem to like this new servant you brought in.”

Wukong and Macaque: *both with bruises from getting into a fight with each other and finally admitting they like Reader to each other* “… Yeah, we do.”

Ma: “Go on dear, you wished to see the flowers didn’t you.”

Reader: “No-No I need to get my work done. I don’t want the Kings to be mad at me.”

Ma: *Thinking* ‘You don’t see how they will NEVER be mad at you, do you.’

I loved this ask!! Thank you for sending it, and I hope that you love this!

Comments, reblogs and likes always welcome!

#dead dove do not eat #sun wukong x macaque #yandere sun wukong #yandere macaque #shadowpeach x reader #macaque x reader #sun wukong x reader #Cursed Warlords Au #Cursed Warlords Lmk au #asks

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eggroll-sama · 7 months ago

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THINGS THAT REMIND ME OF THE LI

This is purely self-indulgent and just based on stuff that makes me go, “it’s them!” when it’s unrelated to them. But here you go and hope you like it. To make it sound more accurate, I replaced the nouns to fit Touchstarved cast.

AIS

Tyler Durban and Edward Norton from the FIGHT CLUB— “How much can you know about yourself if you’ve never been in a fight?” “Maybe self-improvement isn’t the answer, maybe self-destruction is the answer,” “Only after you’ve lost everything you’re free to do anything.” “We are the same person.”

The song, ‘I Remember You’ from ADVENTURE TIME— “I can feel myself slipping away, I can’t remember what it made me say, but I remember that I saw you frown, I swear it wasn’t me…And I need to save you, but who's going to save me? Please forgive me for whatever I do, when I don’t remember you.”

The punk from FERRIS BUELLER’S DAY OFF. I can just see Ais at a police station, giving advice to a pretty stranger, and end up making out with them.

This scene (warning: graphic violence and gore) from ONCE UPON A TIME IN HOLLYWOOD. It’s just so Ais and Princess-coded

VENOM, enough said.

KURAS

The murder-mystery film, THE DA VINCI CODE. I feel like Kuras would love the movie if it existed in his world since it’s canon that he likes trashy murder mysteries.

The song, ‘No Good Deed Goes Unpunished’ from WICKED— “[MC] where are you? Already dead, or bleeding? One more disaster I can add to my Generous supply…No good deed goes unpunished. No act of charity goes unresented. No good deed goes unpunished. That’s my new creed.”

GONE WITH THE WIND— “Frankly my dear, I don’t give a damn.” This line was controversial when released in 1939 because swear words weren’t normalized. I feel like Kuras, like this movie, rarely swears but when he does, the whole room goes silent and you know shit’s about to go down. Also according to the RSS radial chart, Kuras has low empathy plus maxed out strength high wisdom, damn at some point that man might legit not give a damn-

MAQUIA: WHEN THE PROMISED FLOWER BLOOMS— “you smell weird, you smell like the sun;” “If you fall in love, you will truly become alone.” Contextually the line is about how an immortal should never get too close with mortals because they'll one day they’ll die, and it fits Kuras a lot.

HUNTER X HUNTER 2011—“[MC] you are light. Sometimes, you shine so brightly, I must look away. But even so, is it still ok to stay by your side?” I love the idea of an angel heavily associated with the sun (Prometheus, likes sunny days, radiates heat), finds someone that is the light of their life.

ONE PIECE— “I have seen the future of this country. And it is destruction. As long as [the Senobium] remains here, this country can never be cured, because even if medical technology progresses, even if [alchemical] research continues… there is no cure for stupidity.”

OPPENHEIMER. After I watched the movie all I could think about was Kuras doing the blank eye stare at the end of the movie.

LEANDER

Goob from MEET THE ROBINSONS (he’s literally just child Leander in the modern world ;o;)

Michael Scott from THE OFFICE— “I wanna be married and have 100 kids so I can have 100 friends and no one can say no to being my friend,” “it’s not about the horniness, it’s about the loneliness”

The painting, Death of Sardanapalus, by Eugene Delacroix. King Sardanapalus palace is besieged by enemies and he decides to commit suicide after he learns of the army’s defeat, but not before ordering his men to destroy all his favorite possessions- wives, horses, pages, and dogs. He’d rather his valuables all be destroyed than his enemies own them. King Sardanapulus selfishness is humane, but the extremity’s he would go to keep what is his is monstrous.

GASTON from BEAUTY AND THE BEAST— Gaston and Leander both have similar vibes. They’re both trusted and well-liked by most people, viewed as heroes, are human but are monsters on the inside, overconfident, attractive, has a possessive streak, hangs out in bars, nice singing voice. The main difference is that Gaston doesn’t try to act like a nice guy like Leander Fake ahhh

The song ‘Burn’ from HAMILTON— “Do you know what [Vere] said when we saw your first letter arrive? [He] said, be careful with that one, love, he will do what it takes to survive…Do you know what [Kuras] said when [he] read what you’d done? [He] said, you’ve married an Icarus, he has flown too close to the sun.”

Michael Corleone from the GODFATHER.

Sampo from HONKAI STAR RAIL— I barely know anything about Honkai Starrail, but I was going to an anime goods store with my friend and one look at him made me think of Leander. My friend gave me a run down that he betrays you for money and runs away and unironically I could see Leander throwing us under the bus.

VERE

This scene from the movie, MALENA. Vere is heavily desired by men and women alike, but his flirty and fickle personality is just a front to protect himself. And he hates how people see him as a pretty face or someone who needs saving from the Senobium. Tbh Malena herself just reminds me of Vere’s problem of how being pretty is a double edged sword. People see you’re pretty, so they feel threatened or idealize you. You feel extremely lonely bc people are distracted by your beauty and won’t try to understand you intimately. So you either own it and be alone OR assimilate and have friends. Vere is the former.

Madonna-Whore Complex. This article explains it pretty well, “The Madonna Whore Complex (MWC) is a psychological complex often perpetuated by heterosexual, cisgender males which places women into two categories the “Madonna, a woman who is pure, virtuous, and nurturing, or a “Whore,” a woman who is deemed as overly sexual, manipulating, and promiscuous. The dichotomy of MWC creates a rigidity that limits women’s sexual expression, agency, and freedom by defining their sexuality into one of two categories.” Vere is the latter.

Ymir from ATTACK ON TITAN. Both of them were self-proclaimed deity, was caught lying (presumably), and paid for it. Their personalities are similar too except Vere masks himself through innuendos.

The song, ‘The Red Means I Love You’ by Madds Buckley— “The red on my face is matching you. And goodness, you're bleeding, what a wonderful feeling. You're down and you're pleading, my head is just reeling. The red means I love you. Tasting your blood means I love you.” (I can’t see Vere becoming a yandere because he’s already deranged)

MHIN

Another line from ONE PIECE —“Someday I will become too much of a burden. Someday you’ll betray me and cast me aside.”

SHUTTER ISLAND— “What would be worse, to live as a monster or die as a good [person]?” Mhin hates monsters ironically since they are one, and I could see them nearing the time limit where their curse becomes permanent and decides that maybe it’s better to die with their humanity than live forever as a monster.

The Beast from BEAUTY AND THE BEAST. I already said this in another post but like IMAGINE THE AU. AHHHHHH

Felix from LAST LEGACY but more depressed.

Disclaimer: we don’t know much about Sen or Elyon yet so I don’t have much.

ELYON

THE GREAT GATSBY— “…can't you see who this guy is, with his house and his parties and his fancy clothes? He is just a front, a gangster, to get his claws into respectable folk…(to Elyon) We're all different from you. You see, we were born different. It's in our blood. And nothing that you do or say or steal... or dream up can ever change that.”

SEN

Unfortunately I don’t have any for Sen. Her design reminds me of Frankenstein’s creature tho.

BONUS:

This scene from SHAPE OF WATER. MC falls in love with a monster and trying to save them from danger. MC knows that they are also an outsider, a monster. Being with the LI’s feels like they were finally accepted for who they are, regardless of their curse, so they can’t abandon them— “When they looks at me…the way they looks at me, they don’t know what I lack. How I am incomplete...and now I can either save them or let them die.” I think this quote can also be interpreted as the players choosing a route, essentially dooming the other players if we don’t choose them.

Famous line from 10 THINGS I HATE ABOUT YOU— “but mostly I hate how I don’t hate you, not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all.” The fact that us as players will keep coming back to them, replaying their routes even though they killed us, and obsessing over them. Yes they suck but we still love them.

This quote from Green Mile— “ I’m tired…I'm tired of bein' on the road, lonely as a sparrow in the rain. Tired of not ever having me a buddy to be with.” I think this quote really emphasizes how touch-starved MC is, and how alone they feel from being betrayed by people they cared about in the past (also sparrow name drop ^-^)

#this took me very long #two months HAHA #well here you go #ik I’m inactive on here I promise I’m not dead #I’ve been in a twist brain rot #Touchstarved Leander #touchstarved game #touchstarved kuras #touchstarved vere #touchstarved ais #touchstarved elyon #touchstarved mhin #Vere #Mhin #Ais #Leander #Kuras

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jessiexcorner · 2 years ago

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Heartbreak highs pt. 2

Description: Amerie, Harper, and (Y/n). The three were the best of friends until the incest map. A heartbreak high x reader.

Pt.1; https://www.tumblr.com/jessiexcorner/715964588411256832/heartbreak-highs?source=share

Amerie now free from the principal’s office catches up with Harper who is heading to the gym while talking to (Y/n), the (h/c) haired girl noticing Amerie turns quiet “I’m going to catch up with Darren and Quinni, see ya?” (Y/n) ignore Amerie specifically looking at Harper and squeezes her hand, the blond girl smiles slightly and nods holding on for a second, squeezing back and then letting (Y/n) walk off, to the side of the gym where Darren and Quinni stand talking.

“Why haven't you answered my texts? Oi! Harp! Where have you been?” Amerie says playfully not noticing Harper’s uninterested expression. “When did you start talking to (y/n) again? Never mind, Firstly, your hair. Extreme, but I love. Secondly, Woodsy knows. I didn't tell her about you, don't worry.” She assures the blond.

“I’m not worried,” Harper responds, not really caring.

“Thirdly, Dusty spoke to me so we're pretty much dating…” Amerie gasps out ruffling Harper’s head.

Harper annoyed, pushes Amerie off of her, walking away. “I don't give a shit.”

“What's up with you? Hello. Didn't you hear me? I took the fall for you.” Amerie says now noticing her friend’s weird behaviour.

“I didn't ask you to do that,” Harper states.

“Shut up. You're my best mate—” Amerie walks closer, only to be cut off.

“Not anymore.”

“Dude, what are you talking about?” Amerie’s hand reaches out and tries to grab onto Harper’s, only for it to be slapped away.

“Fuck off.” Harper tries to walk away.

“Okay, Harper, I don't get it—“ Amerie tries to talk only to be cut off once again

“Of course, you don’t.”

“Well, then tell me.” Amerie comes closer. They become more heated gaining the attention of some students, (Y/n) watches the alteration in the corner quietly.

“I said get off me. I'm fucking done with you!” Harper shouts and punches Amerie pushing her away, now catching the attention of all the students, who run and crowd them.

“Fight, fight, fight!” students start yelling, while some record, (Y/n) worried comes closer, with her friends as they watch the fight.

“What the fuck, Harper? Stop! Why are you doing this? What's wrong with you?!” Amerie yells, pushing Harper against the wall, (Y/n) is about to step in before Harper pushes Amerie away and head-butts the brown girl knocking her down. The students gasp while some laugh still recording. Amerie lies on the floor dazed as Harper walks away.

“Could you maybe check on her, please?” (Y/n) asks her friends as she follows Harper out of the gym. Darren who now stops recording as Quinni nods and immediately kneels beside Amerie to check on her, Amerie sneezes while her nose is bleeding getting blood on Quinni, who only wipes it off with a worried smile.

“Yuck. Yuck, yuck, yuck.” Darren comments dragging the redhead away.

(Y/n) catches up with Harper who’s now alone and rubbing her knuckles a little. “Nice punch.” (Y/n) comments as she walks beside Harper, who smiles a little looking at her hand. (Y/n) hands her the gel ice pack she takes from her backpack. “Thought you might need this,” Harper raises a brow.

“Why do you have an ice pack in your bag?”

(Y/n) shrugs. “I felt like you might have needed it today, if not you then I would be needing it.” She smiles standing next to the blond who ices her hands. ”Though I don’t think my punches would have been as satisfying as the one you threw.” Harper huffs smiling. They both stand there for a little while enjoying the quiet.

Quinni and Darren get some fruit from a shop, two boys walk up to buy some snacks when Quinni asks them, “Oh. Excuse me. Do you know what a ‘Lazy Kebab’ is?”

“Uh-uh-uh. No. Stop asking people that.” Darren immediately stops Quinni.

“Okay. I still don't understand what it is though.” She says as they walk, (Y/n) now joining them.

“Hey, what’re you two lovely people talking about” (Y/n) asks with a smile linking arms, with the two.

“(Y/n) What’s ‘Lazy Kebab’?” Quinni questions.

“What,” (Y/n) scrunches her brows.

Darren sighs, “It means giant flaps.”

“Flaps?” Quinni questions. Darren pointed looks down at Quinni’s skirt.

“Oh! Like those sorts of flaps.” They all walk together Darren eating their fruit.

“Spider hasn't seen them. I mean nobody has.” Quinni comments eating her apple.

“Who knows what that incel was thinking? Straight men are a mystery to me.” Darren assures as (Y/n) hums agreeing with them.

“Oh! You guys can look at them for me.”

“What?” Both Darren and (Y/n) question.

“My...flaps.”

“Uh,” (Y/n) looks at Darren.

“Deeply, no,” Darren responds instantly.

“Okay, but what if they are huge?” Quinni asks.

“There’s nothing wrong with that,” (Y/n) assures.

“Who cares? More room to put things in it.” Darren huffs. Before they can finish their conversation a voice on the speaker cuts them off.

“Will the following students please meet at Classroom 5D; Amerie Wadia, Harper McLean, Sasha So, Missy Beckett, Dustin Reid, Spencer White, and Anthony Vaughn.”

“Sounds like a bunch of dickheads.” Darren comments as they eat their banana, and (Y/n) hums in agreement.

“Darren Rivers.” The announcer states.

“Damn it,” Darren responds making (Y/n) chuckle.

“(Y/n) (L/n)” The announcer continues making the girl sigh and groan. “Quinn Gallagher-Jones.”

“What?” Quinni notices her name.

“Douglas Piggott, Malakai Mitchell.”

“Welcome, welcome.” The principal and a teacher greet the students at the entrance of the class, as they trickle in. (Y/n), Darren, and Quinni, claim the table at the back next to the door. Amerie sits in one corner in the front with the new kid, as Spider and his friends call out to the girl. “Map Bitch,” they whistle and tease. Amerie ignores them which makes them stop. She notices the new kid looking at her and annoyed snaps.

“What cunt?”

The new kid just smiles finding her amusing. “Nice to meet you too.”

“So cemetery tomorrow?” Dusty asks the group at his table

“Yeah, boy.”

“It's gonna be a rager.”

“Oi, uh, what's the cemetery?” Darren asks curious.

“None ya biz, bong water.” Spider insults.

“Shut up, fucking gronk.” (Y/n) retorts to the white male, making him scoff.

“Okay. Settle down. Thank you.” The principal announces forcing the kids to sit still quietly.

“Hi, everyone. I'm Miss Josephine Obah, but you can call me Jojo Kind of like, 'Yo-yo,’ but J.” The teacher standing in the front, chuckles awkwardly. She clears her throat. “I’m an English teacher, so I know some of you. But I'm sure you're all wondering why you're here. Well, your names were on the map in the stairwell. The one that's out of bounds.”

“Um, what map?” Malakai the new kid, raises his hand confused.

Miss Jo-jo chuckles “Okay, very funny. Look, peeps, we're not dumb. We know a lot of you are sexually active, but we're concerned this map demonstrates a real lack of respect for one another when it comes to sexual relationships. So we want to address it head-on. This is a special class that aims to give you clear and accessible information about sex and intimacy—”

“A sexual literacy tutorial.” Miss Stacy the principal announces.

“S.L.T. So we're sluts?” Darren comments making the students snicker and laugh, as they begin chanting,

“Sluts! Sluts! Sluts!” Spider stands on the table cheering.

“That's enough. Come on, everyone. This class will go back to the basics on sex and—“ Miss Jo-jo attempts to calm the students down but is cut off by Miss Stacy.

“Because clearly, you all have a lot to learn in that department.” Miss Stacy comments before letting Miss Jo-jo continue.

“It'll happen twice a week, in your own time.” The students groan and whine in protest “Until—No, until we judge that you started to respect each other and yourselves. You have to attend every class or it'll go on your permanent record.”

“Wait, we have permanent records?” Ant chimes in.

“This is sex jail!” Missy complains.

“Thanks a lot, Map Bitch.” Ant mutters as Spider throws a paper ball at Amerie.

“Sorry. Um, it's actually my first day. I don't think I'm supposed to be in here.” Malakai raises his hand again,

“Legend! Made it to the map before you even started!” Spider cheers for the new kid.

“I think we should do the handshake game.” Miss Stacy whispers to the English teacher.

“I don't think that's not the best one to start with…” Miss Jo-jo whispers back.

“All right, everybody up! Up, up, up, up!” Miss Stacy instructs the students. “Okay, now clear these tables to the side, please. And lift them, don't scrape them along the floor—” The students drag and push the tables to the side of the classroom. “Thank you. Now, I want you all to start walking around the room. Come on. Walking. Good, you know how to walk.” The students walk around circling around each other. “Now, I want you to choose three other people to start shaking hands with. Shaking, shake...Good, you know how to shake.” The students start shaking hands and walking around aimlessly, Darren and Quinni stay in one place shaking each other's hands in the background. (Y/n) shakes Harper’s hand giving it a small squeeze which is returned by Harper with a small smile. (Y/n) ducks and stays with her friends all linking hands in a three-way handshake. Almost all students avoid Amerie. “Shaking. And...stop. Spencer, you have genital crabs.” Miss Stacy says. The students laugh and giggle.

“Checks out,” Darren comments snickering.

“Not in real life, thank you, Darren, for the purposes of this game. Put your hand up, Spencer.” Miss Stacy explains. Spencer huffs. “Hand up, Spencer. Now. Hands up, who shook hands with Spencer.” Some students raise their hands. “And who shook hands with them?” More students raise their hands. “And who shook hands with them?” Quinni looks over at Darren and (Y/n) who have their hands up and raises her hand. “You all have genital warts.” Spider snickers and some kids cheer.

“Uh, I thought it was crabs?” Malakai asks.

“Right. Crabs. Thank you, um…”

“Malakai.”

“Malakai. Thank you. You all have genital crabs. Except for you, Amerie. Well done.” Amerie stands on the side looking like a sad puppy. “Now. What does this highlight the need for?”

“Oh to stay away from Spider, 'cause he's chat.” Cash's comment makes students laugh.

“Fuck off, guys!” Spider retorts.

“No! Condoms.” Miss Stacy states exasperated. The school bell rings letting the kids know that they can leave. Darren and Quinni head out.

“Text me when you reach?” (Y/n) asks Harper as they walk out of the class, she nods. (Y/n) smiles and waves bye heading towards her friends. She finds Darren standing outside the girl's bathroom, “Quinni in there?”

“Yes, she’s checking her kebab. I think.”

“Ah,” (Y/n) nods. “Oh! Shoot I almost forgot,” (Y/n) digs threw her bag taking out a gummy bear chain bracelet. “I fixed it, good as new.” She hands him the jewelry

“Ah! Lifesaver. Oh did you add a new chain?”

“Yea, it was getting rusty.”

Amerie runs out of the bathroom clutching her bag Quinni following, “I mean, it is your fault in a way, so if you could just look at it and tell me if I have a normal kebab or not. Amerie!”

Darren chuckles “I love it when toxic bitches enter their flop era.”

“You can't say that, that's really mean.” Quinni defends her.

“She put you on the map…” (Y/n) comments as they walk to class.

“Yeah, I know. But Spider told everyone. So he's the asshole, not her.”

“I love you, but that girl has literally never acknowledged our existence.” Darren comments.

“So? Haven't you ever felt like a complete reject? Come on, we've got maths.” Quinni states, Darren and (Y/n) look at each other one looking a little guilty and the other blank. They sigh and head to class.

Amerie stands in front of Harper’s place. She knocks on the door and waits. “Hello, Am.” A blond man opens the door,

“Hey, Justin.” Amerie greets Harper’s dad.

“How are ya?”

“Ah. Yeah, I'm good. Um, just wondering if Harper's home.”

“Uh... No, didn't you see her at school today?” He asks.

“Yes. But, um, we sort of... beat the shit out of each other.” Amerie explains, he chuckles,

“Again? Well makes sense. Mercury is in retrograde, so…” He jokes, “Don't worry. You'll work it out. Always do.” He assures the girl.

“Yeah, totally. Um... So, is she here?”

“I don't know where she is, maybe check (Y/n)’s place? She mentioned something about that.”

“Oh?” Amerie pauses hearing her old friend’s name. “Okay, um, well, thanks anyway, J-Dog.”

“Okay. See ya around.”

“See ya. Take it ease.” He says.

“I’ll try.” She says walking off.

(Y/n) sits in her room eating some junk food, while texting Harper, and watching a movie at the same time. She gets a call from Darren. “Hey, what’s up?” She responds wiping her hands off of any crumbs.

“Can I stay the night?”

“Uh, lemme ask my parents, give me sec yea?” (Y/n) walks to her parents room for permission only to remember they aren’t home this week. She texts them, ‘Can I invite my friend for a sleepover?’ ‘Which friend?’ ‘Darren, I’ll sleep in my room, the guest room is free.’ A pause before a thumbs-up emoji is sent. “yea sure, want me to pick you up?” (Y/n) replies to Darren.

“No— wait, actually yes, can you?”

“Sure, we can pick some snacks too, have a movie night. Oh! Invite Quinni too!” (Y/n) says excitedly as she grabs her car keys and slippers heading out.

@inkpot-winters

#heartbreakhigh #heartbreakhighamerie #amerie #harpermclean #malakai #malakai x reader #harper x reader #heartbreakhigh2022 #darren #quinni #heartbreakhighdarren #heartbreakhighquinni #heartbreak high x reader

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revelboo · 20 days ago

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ngl my only exposure to vortex is secondhand stuff of him with first-aid (and even that im spotty on, cuz im not sure thats even him or if its someone else) but DAMN. HELL OF A FIRST IMPRESSION GHDSJKGMGKDSM-

He’s a sadistic interrogator for the Cons, a Combaticon, a tad bit masochistic and a lot of freak from what I know about him- I’d imagine none of the combiners are exactly okay in the head, though, Autobot or Decepticon. That the modifications necessary, the nature of the gestalt and losing your sense of self probably does some mental damage. And that Vortex may have been a bit manic and sadistic even before volunteering. Wanted to get this one done before I hit the road since it was in my head.

I Can’t Decide Pt 2

IDW Vortex x Reader

•Oh, that lovely sound of pure terror. Catching your tiny hand between two servos and pressing as you desperately try to pull free. Feels little bones shift. “Wait! I can get you more!” More? Crying out until he eases up and you yank your hand to your chest and point down at the other human. What’s left of him. “Like him. That’s what you want, right?” Such a devious little thing, offering to find him toys? To play with him?

• Still can’t look at the mess he’d made, but deep down? A part of you is glad. Knowing what he’d planned to do to you, that he’d likely have killed you after he was done, you can’t summon any sympathy for the guy. And there’s more like him, aren’t there? Aware that you’re making a deal with the devil to survive even as you look up into that luminous visor. “You’d bring me playthings knowing what I’ll do to them?” He asks, baring his denta in a grin. You’ll hate yourself for it later, but you nod. “Oh, we’re going to be such friends.” Tapping a servo against you hard enough to hurt as he laughs.

• Such a fierce little expression. You’re going to be such fun to break. Offering you his blade, he tucks the edge of his glossa against the corner of his mouth. Watches you squirm, trying to guess what he wants you to do and then reaching out and grabbing that sharp edge, wincing and hissing through your teeth as you pull your bleeding hand away. Those eyes narrowing as he lifts the blade and runs his glossa along it, shuddering slightly because you taste so much sweeter than the other human had. “Just a small taste and I can find you no matter where you try to hide,” he lies, feeling you stiffen in his hand. “But you wouldn’t do that, would you?”

• “Of course not,” you say, fear threading through you. Not sure if this is a game you can play. Can you really bring him victims? Even if you only find the worst of humanity, the truly evil? Flinching as he leans down and drags his wet glossa from your cheek, down you neck, along your arm all the way to your bleeding palm with a noise of almost euphoric pleasure, you decide you can. Anything to not get played with like a cat with a mouse until he accidentally kills you.

• Lifting his head instead of giving in to the urge to bite, he rubs his servo against that soft, delicate throat. “Name’s Vortex. To a lovely and mutually beneficial partnership,” he coos. Because you? He’s going to enjoy you, he can tell. None of the other Combaticons share his proclivities. Knows he makes them uncomfortable with his games, that they don’t understand. But you’re so desperate he can shape you as he likes. Make you play along until he gets bored.

#transformers x reader #vortex x reader #idw vortex

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flaggermuser · 8 months ago

Text

The Crimson Tide

Homelander x Luna (Supe OC)

Prompt: "You're bleeding."/Making tea/coffee for a loved one

1,185 words || Periods, Severe Cramps, Movies, Bonding, Pre-established Frienship ||

This takes place in the year between S2 & 3. Luna is a moon-powered supe whose powers are tied to the lunar cycle. This is a pre-established friendship.

Special thanks to @devilander for being my beta

A New Moon

Luna’s powers are at their weakest.

And it doesn’t help that she’s always on her period at this point in the lunar cycle, and combined with her weakened powers, she’s in the worst pain imaginable. So she lies in bed, unable to do anything other than spend the entire day there. It’s the closest she ever gets to feeling human.

A hot water bottle lies on her abdomen, helping to ease the overwhelming cramps but not by much. It’s challenging for her to move in this situation, and she is considerably more irritable. She lets out a grunt, the pain in her abdomen slowly becoming worse. It’s as if someone is scraping the inside of her womb with a rusted knife, and her inability to heal herself only amplifies the feeling.

She doesn’t have to open her eyes when she hears the familiar footsteps sauntering in her direction. There's been a change in the atmosphere between them. Things have been more cordial on Luna’s part - they weren’t exactly friends but they weren’t exactly hostile either, it was a weird bond.

The bed shifts under his weight, his hands brushing stray strands of hair from her face. It’s a very soft interaction, one prompting her eyes to slowly open and look at him.

“I’m not in the mood for visitors but I get the feeling that if I tell you to go away, you won’t.”

Homelander chuckles, holding the mug of steaming hot tea in his hands, offering it to her. “You’re completely right. Anyway, I read somewhere that ginger tea helps with, well, you know, the crimson tide.”

“The crimson tide?” It takes a few minutes until it finally dawns on her. “Ohh, because I’m moon-powered, the moon controls the tides. Clever, did you come up with that one all by yourself?”

He chuckles, the smug grin she knows all too well spreading across his lips, “I did actually and I’m proud of myself for it.”

She considers something for a moment, wondering if she should ask the next question or if she’d like the answer. “You know that I’m on my period?”

“Yep,” he responds, almost cheerfully. “Could smell you from the hallway.”

She squints at him, “You know that’s incredibly creepy, right?”

He laughs, shaking his head slightly, “I have a sensitive nose, I can’t help what I pick up. Like I can also smell the Luna’s Moonflower Body Lotion and the Moonflower Face Cream with SPF 15 you’re wearing. A little narcissistic to wear something from your cosmetic collection, isn’t it?”

“Fuck you.”

There’s no malice behind it. She’s almost grateful he’s here, it takes her mind off the searing pain in her womb. She tries to sit up, letting out soft noises of discomfort and arranging her pillows to support herself.

“Thank you,” she takes the mug and sips the tea. The warmth blooms in her chest, the taste of ginger luckily offset by honey. As much as she hates ginger, she doesn’t have the heart to tell him.

After all, he’s gone to all this effort to help her.

“I guess you didn’t just come here to bring me tea.”

“No,” he admits, taking off his gloves and placing them on the bedside table. He takes her free hand in his, playing with her fingers. “I’m bored and can only guess that being confined to a bed all day because of that and weak powers means you’re bored too, so I thought you might want some company.”

“As nice as that sounds, I’m not exactly in the mood for sparkling conversation.”

“We don’t have to talk,” he answers. “We could always just watch a movie. I have several recommendations that I think you’d enjoy.”

What he’s suggesting does sound nice. However, the very idea of her getting out of bed and walking into the living room makes her wince. She’s not in the best condition to do anything.

“Only one small issue, I can’t exactly move and I don’t have a TV in here.”

He smirks, the kind he has when he’s up to something. He leaves her bedside for a few minutes, only to return with two Vought lackeys wheeling in a flat-screen TV on a stand. She gives him a knowing look, one he returns with pure smug satisfaction. He’s thought of everything.

“Oh, how convenient,” she says sarcastically. “You just so happened to have that stashed somewhere for this exact scenario.”

Once it’s set up, the lackeys nearly bolt out the door. There’s something sweet about the lengths he’s going to just to spend time with her. She moves over a little and places her mug on the other bedside table, ensuring he has enough room to join her on the bed.

There’s a slightly awkward pause between them that goes on for much longer than it should. She knows he’s probably waiting for her to ask him to sit beside her.

“Take your boots off, I’m not having them dirty my clean sheets.”

He tries to hide his excitement, kicking off his boots and settling beside her, remote control in hand. “Don’t worry, it’s already signed into your Vought account.”

That forces her to raise an eyebrow suspiciously. “Do I want to know how you managed to get my login details?”

“No,” he replies. “The same way I don’t want to know why you’re watching The Deep’s documentary.”

She laughs a little, he’s caught her red-handed. She wasn’t one hundred percent sure why she was watching it. It was The Deep, after all, a disgraced former member of the Seven. His hand slowly slides over hers, their fingers interlocking again.

“So, what do you want to watch? We’ve got the entire Vought+ catalogue at our disposal, I got you upgraded for free after I had a little chat with the right person.”

“Huh, and what tone did you use for this little chat?”

She’s been around him long enough to know how ‘persuasive’ he can be. He chuckles, obviously pleased with himself and this seemingly selfless act, continuing to flick through the channels rather than answer her question.

“Any preferences? I mean, we have all the Seven movies, including some of my blockbusters.”

She looks at him with a raised eyebrow, “Really? You’re sitting right next to me and I still have to watch you? You are so full of yourself.”

His jaw tightens - it’s clear she’s only teasing, but it’s clear she’s hit a raw nerve. A squeeze of his hand is her apology, making him look down at their entwined fingers. A faint smile appears on his lips, one she’s never seen before. It’s a lot softer, almost as if he’s content.

“Why don’t you pick one of your favourites? Give me a little insight into who Homelander is underneath the suit and matching eagle socks.”

He scoffs, glancing at her. “That’s rich coming from Moon Girl.”

“You know, up until now, I was starting to like you. So you can still get out, even if I can’t make you.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he responds with his notoriously smug tone.

#cozy corner domaystic #homelander x oc #homelander x supe oc #homelander x luna #homelander x reader

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