#Praising Him (among other things) that I'm feeling better from a cold and that I can sleep in tomorrow morning

[flickeringflame216]

🥢

[velvetures]

Hello loves💕 I still can't get over your writing I'm obsessed!!

I would love to request Roommate König x fem reader. König hears you fucking some guy on the other side of the wall and he can tell you faked it so once the dude is gone he's got you over his shoulder and is walking you to his bedroom to fuck you right. I love the idea of her trying to get him to confess to her and trying anything after months or years of mutual pining, her last resort is to make him jealous.

Overheard

a/n: I'm so sorry for being so slow my love... I always have the worst self-confidence with nsfw reqs. I constantly write them, delete them, and start all over... (this is like... the 8th full-draft retry) So I hope you'll forgive me if this isn't up to standard. Also, I know this trope has been covered by some really talented writers and I hoped to do it justice, and not feel like a carbon copy of something better. (ps. This shit is too long... but I knew if I deleted anything, I'd delete the whole thing over again.)

tw's: 18+ ONLY, nameless hookup, alluded unprotected sex w/side character, unintentional orgasm denial, the reader is mentally not in the best place for sex (disconnected), voyeurism, jealously, fem-oral receiving, fem-fingering receiving, dirty talk, König being a bit of a loser, König omitting his lack of experience, aftercare.

His mom kept saying it was about time to settle down. That the biological clock, normally pushed on women, was ever-present and ticking against his favor. But his sweet, innocent, mother didn’t know the depth of his awkwardness. Not even the slightest idea that her well-mannered boy, turned praise-worthy Colonel was nothing but a bumbling fucking idiot when it came to speaking with women. In the field, sure. He could give orders, discuss tactics, and even bullshit with the best of the best… but if a woman was among those? Oh hell. It was like trying to talk to a brick wall with a randomly developed stuttering issue.

He didn’t understand where it came from either.

It wasn’t like his mother was one of the overbearing types that made dating impossible, and nor did he exactly have the worst time when he was younger with women being interested. It was just… after they showed interest, that became the struggle. Relaxing wasn’t possible. Not when he knew that a woman’s perception of him was far higher than that of any man. Believing that even the smallest of gestures and phrases could earn him an immediate dismissal, and his name or photo being sent in some group-chat to be berated after a first date. He didn’t blame any of the women though… he knew what he looked like. What he sounded like… and God, how miserable his personality was compared to what his career and position would lead others to assume.

A shred of truth could always be found in his mother’s warning though.

He’d gone years without any meaningful relationship where the softer, side of a woman could be found. He found bastardized ways of getting a taste, but he could only allocate so much money a month to porn sites and camgirls without feeling like a total sleaze. The Colonel felt much more confident mapping out a prospective warzone than the contours of a woman’s body, and fuck… it made him more than a little embarrassed to admit. Enough so, that when you mentioned that your rental agreement was coming to an end, and you were trying to find somewhere new to stay, he offered for you to just move in with him.

He owned. Which made the idea of ‘rent’ or you paying it almost unquestionably stupid. It made the deal a little sweeter -in his mind- for you to agree, and then he wouldn’t have to be quite so personally diligent on logging onto online portals to pay utilities. That is, if he could get you to move in. And while in his own mind and body, every synapse screamed that he was being unrealistic, you hadn’t caught on. He’d looked just as stoic and cold as ever when he propositioned that you just start moving over your things into his house. Save money… it’ll be easier for you; He’d said, hard eyes glancing over your face. You thought saying ‘yes’ was anxiety-inducing? König nearly passed out in his office after walking there on numb feet and weak knees.

In the week following, he brought you a small ring of keys, and you started moving your life into his, one cardboard box at a time. And every night after returning from his on-base duties, he would have to physically restrain himself from opening up the taped flaps and getting a peek at the unattended items sitting by the front door. At the time, he thought it was nothing more than unchecked curiosity and instinct to feel-out a new situation. Just simply wanting to learn more about you before you started sleeping over. Merely the soldier in him. But box, by box, that curiosity didn’t dampen down. Even when your items began making their way out of their containers and enmeshing with his around the house.

Tea cups in the kitchen cabinet next to his thicker, coffee mugs. Throw blankets rolled and stacked in the far corning of the couch he rarely sat on. A little rug you’d tossed down in the kitchen in front of the stove with a little floral print that he’d been utterly possessed to not get any stains on while cooking, or by taking off his boots before walking inside. And while never claiming to be a ‘minimalist’ man, he learned right away that his house was nothing short of a hotel when it came to personality.

You’d brought at least five full walls worth of decor. Little trinkets and cute things from all over the world you’d been sneaky enough to stuff into the pockets of your gear. And all of it, had initially been shoved into an empty linen closet he’d been perfect happy with you claiming as your own since it was ‘on your side of the house’. That was, until he found himself noticing that you’d put more than “storage” things away, and had silently refused to put them where they belonged.

On the damn walls.

“I don’t decorate well anyways..” It’d been his excuse… or at least something along those lines. Maybe a little bit more gruff. Guarded. Because even in his own home, he had the tendency of walking around like someone was going to sneak up behind him.

So one week, while he was away, you took the permission and ran with it. Buying the picture hanging kits, and everything else needed to begin covering the Colonel’s walls with your amassed collection of utterly unnecessary, but brain-scratching decorations, art, and collectable junk. Spending a good half hour walking around the halls and rooms with a little smile of accomplishment on your face seeing the colonel’s house feeling more like a home. Totally unaware that he’d been checking the security cameras dotted around, watching you scale a shitty stepladder, climb the kitchen cabinets, and struggle to lift the more heavy items. All the while, growing more and more intrigued with this new arrangement. Debating whether he liked it or not. Rapt attention making the instinctive suggestion that you’d make a good wife far less perverse than he should’ve felt it to be.

Missions took precedence though. And it kept both of you busy more than not. Fully living adjacent instead of in a more dependent role. But there were decidedly small decisions that needed to be made. Like who was in charge of buying groceries, and getting essentials that you both used. König ended up just leaving cash on the counter once a week so you could take care of his end for him. Saving the trouble of a second loaf of bread being bought, or doubling up on paper towels after a miscommunication lead to fifty rolls of the shit needing to be stored somewhere. You did the job more than credibly, and it got you out of the house too.

Which was good, because you rarely left.

Not unlike him, you preferred your time spent in calm situations. Either reading reports, answering emails, and other related tasks before just closing that tab on your laptop and opening up an new one to watch a show or scroll on your phone. You appeared to thrive in his house when you could curl up like some little bird in a nest and just rest. Developing almost permanently sleepy eyes when you came through the door, and a softer tone of voice that took some getting used to. König didn’t exactly understand it. Why your demeanor changed so much within the house, and how it got substantially much more noticeable when your schedules aligned for both of you to be there at the same time.

A solid seven months or more passed before he got his answer. And from your late-night scrolling nonetheless.

Some woman, blabbering on about her husband, and all of the ways that he effected her life once she moved in with him. And, honestly, König wasn’t listening all that much. Having just begun sitting on the other end of the couch with you, since it was where you spent your evenings after dinner. And, it’d become a little bit of a new experience. Just being halfway close to you. Interacting, but not. A safe way to enjoy your presence without any expectations. But that woman on your phone caught his attention when she made the joke about being tired all the time. Tired. Sleepy. All the fucking time. He had to stare down at the TV to keep his head from snapping in your direction.

Apparently it was chemical. Some little thing in the back of a woman’s mind that men didn’t have the complexity to experience the same way. That this woman -and you- were so mentally focused for such a long time, that when the right person was around you, and created a safe space, it acted like a the strongest sleeping pill in existence. Flooding you with dopamine and melatonin to the point that your pretty face got even sweeter with those deep, sleepy looks and constant yawns at all times of the day. Getting a glimpse of you tapping the screen twice, and then tapping at your keyboard to leave a comment only reinforced his inquisitiveness. From the moving boxes, to watching you on cameras while away… and now realizing that you acted so sweet and docile around the house because of him..? He didn’t know how to control himself, and still find a way to keep figuring you out.

Wanting more…

Needing a chance to find out if things could go further than just living in his house.

Dating wasn’t a walk in the park for you either. Call it a hazard of military work. Computers and filing paperwork was more your speed than the guns and blood that König was accustomed to, but it still limited the amount of men who were interested. Especially in the long-term.

It really came down to the uniform and lack of free time that could be allotted to the guys that you did have the fortune to meet. They wanted to take you on dates, and your superiors preferred you stay late to take minutes for a meeting. They always suggested you take a vacation, since it was clear just how tired you were on a daily basis. But vacations were practically a laughable dream you knew wouldn’t come to fruition until you finally were sent the retirement packet everyone in the service dreamed of. But.. on the rare occasion, you did have the energy to entertain a man for a night. Just. One. Night.

Thankfully König was out.

Such good timing considering you’d spent nearly a week, taking your sweet time to wring orgasms out of yourself just for the sheer frustration of getting them, and still not feeling satisfied. Instinctively missing the warmth of skin on skin and the dynamic of having someone else provide and take pleasure from you. Even getting on the app had felt more like a shopping trip than a chance to go on a date. Looking through photos and bios with nothing more on your mind than someone big enough, and pretty enough to make the ordeal worth it. The guy who answered back to your painfully blatant request for a good fuck, didn’t ask any questions either. Just asked politely asked if you wanted to go to him, or vice versa and gave you ample time to get yourself ready before the knock on the front door.

Your mental ruined any chance of having a good time though.

The poor guy sucking at your neck and grunting soft praises was nice… but you couldn’t get into it. Feeling tense. Going through the motions. Foreplay becoming an act of forced moans to reassure the guy genuinely trying to make you feel good, and unable to even make eye contact for a slightly guilty feeling that pervaded your thoughts. Hell, you even refused to have missionary, just to make sure that your facial expressions didn’t have to constantly match the fake whimpers and whines.

John… Joe… Jacob… whatever his name was, he was honestly a sweet guy. Giving your clit attention, no just shoving his cock in you without prep, and actively checking in without making it overbearing. On another day, you’d have really been trying harder to impress him. Give the impression that you were interested in him for more than the sex you couldn’t surrender to. Hope that he liked you enough to stick around. But deep down, you thought better of it. Withholding your feelings to ensure that when he left you alone for the night, that you wouldn’t hate yourself.

König, on the other hand, came home a bit earlier than expected. Walking in the door quietly to expect a silent house, and you sleeping in your bed or on the couch after waiting up for him. Only to be stunned with wet, skin slapping and familiar, pathetic, whimpers getting overrun by deep grunts and low, almost whispered sounds from a man.

God… you were getting fucked.

His whole chest tightened in embarrassment and his face felt hot. You’d never been quite this comfortable… at least to his knowledge. Plenty of nights he had overheard the faint sounds of you getting off alone… soft little moans and gentle hums of a vibrator filtering down the hallway to him. But he’d never heard anything quite that… loud. Even when you fucked yourself on a dildo -he’d always been too curious not to listen intently- the slick sounds of your cunt always made louder noise than your voice. As mortified as he was hearing it… part of him knew something was wrong. Like his whole body was stiff, realizing that you weren’t enjoying it. Faking it… for some unknown reason.

Why couldn’t you say something? Surely you could ask him to… to do something different right? To let you use a toy? Or… or touch your clit? Whatever it took to help you enjoy yourself. But those pinched, almost broken moans starting grating on him within seconds. Stalking towards your bedroom door quietly, and leaning against the wall. Eyes closed and his breath getting heavier with each imagined scene in his head that developed. Picturing him doing all the wrong things… Touching you… tasting you… and living out his own pleasure without the slightest idea that every sound out of your mouth was a fucking lie.

König’s jaw clenched. Resisting a sudden desire to bang on the door or make some other loud noise that would bring this all to an end. Even his fist clenched at his side flinched towards the bedroom door, as if he was insane enough to actually bust in.

What would he even do?

The question rang out a bit too harshly in his mind.

He didn’t have the first idea how to… do better. To make you feel good, or any woman really. Plenty of jealousy rose in his throat at the thought of that bastard fucking you, but he hadn’t even touched a pussy in years. And the last time he did it, he was, pathetically inexperienced. Using his huge fingers to try and prep his partner, but not hitting any of the right spots. Accidentally taking a clinical approach, and it left him feeling like a damn gynecologist instead of a good fuck.

He couldn’t please you, no matter how much he wanted to…

The sobering thought forced him to back away from your bedroom door. But pride alone forced him into the kitchen, leaning against the counter with a glass of scotch in his hand. The last -and unavoidable- line of defense before the front door. No doubt in his mind that if nothing else, he’d get a good look at the man you’d brought home for a disappointing night of sex. Wanting to at least humiliate the bastard for a few seconds. Because while he knew himself to not be an acceptable partner, the guy currently riding out his high in your bedroom wasn’t going to know it. And seeing him -in his daily fatigues- and his hood, would give any man a moment of pause.

You felt sticky. Hot. And more than a little achy in all the wrong ways as Jeff… Josh… whoever the fuck he was, removed himself form your bed and began pulling on his jeans. Watching cautiously as he excused himself into your bathroom -sweetly- offering you a wet washcloth and a too-shy smile for a man who’d just come all over your stomach.

You didn’t bother putting on pants to walk him out to the front door. Too disappointed and stuck in your own head to see König standing in the corner of the kitchen. His dark eyes glaring daggers at your… ‘guest’ who was much more observant, and stood stock still. Shirt in his hands, and forced to raise his gaze more than normal to get the best look at the terrifying man looming in the shadows. It took you far longer than it should’ve. To trace Jonah… Josiah’s… gaze, and recognize your roommate. And even longer to remember that you weren’t wearing pants.

“Hey man…”

You had to give what’s-his-name credit for being as casual as he sounded. Because in all honesty, you were just as taken aback. Shuffling to stand behind the guy just enough that your bare pussy and ass weren’t totally out for him to see.

“Evening…” König sounded… bored? Not his normal tone. “Heading out already?” The guy you were using as a shield, just nodded his head. Looking a bit apologetic, but still anxious.

“Yeah, man…” He pulled his head over his shirt, patting his pockets for the jingle of car keys before glancing back at you with an truly apologetic smile, and a clear unpreparedness for the situation. “I… uh…. thanks for… letting me come over…”

You can’t manage more than a nod. No smile, no reassuring touch to him… nothing. Just a silent acknowledgment and the subsequent scamper over to the couch to grab a blanket to cover yourself up.

Shit… König fucking waved bye…

He didn’t expect you to come out. Nor to get his first-ever look at your pussy. And god it’d taken a lot of restraint not to just stare at you and memorize what he could get get a look at. You just looked soft. So fucking small and soft… A slight sheen of sweat on your face and the roots of your hair damp from the erotic affair.

Too bad it was all an act.

“Thanks for letting him come, huh?” He can’t resist… the guy just hadn’t been cautious enough to not fuel the fire of jealously in him.

Seeing you wrap that blanket around you tighter, avoiding all eye contact, and even turning your side to him a bit… it makes him smile under his hood. An amused one. A sickeningly happy sort of feeling rising in his gut where you appear vulnerable under his gaze. You’re already much more expressive just talking to him than you’d sounded with that bastards cock inside you.

“Didn’t think you’d be back for a while…” Your valid excuse falls a bit flat, especially when those dark brown eyes scan your entire body. He lifts his tumbler of scotch under his hood, nodding before taking a long drink. Feeling a secondary burn that soothes the heat building everywhere else in him.

“I can see that…” He chuckles lowly. To him, it sounds unsure… and maybe tinged with anger, jealously. But on your face, he’s clear that you don’t recognize it. Far too embarrassed to see that there’s just as much uncertainty flooding him as well. “Could hear it too…”

He literally sees your shoulders sink. The wave of embarrassment. Part of him loves it. Knowing you’re experiencing some of the same things he is. That you to, know what it’s like to leave a bed feeling like things didn’t go right, and there’s a guilt that hardens like sediment in your gut. Yet the other half, resists pushing harder. Using this same, defensive, and chastising tone. To give you just a bit of respite, because, he’s not really mad… he’s just fuming with jealously.

“If I knew… I wouldn’t have…” You can’t manage much more. Both of you knowing damn well this wouldn’t have happened if you knew what his arrival was going to be. You always kept so good to his schedules… and not just because this was his house. But because you were so genuinely sweet around him.

“Been so loud?” He suggests, downing the last gulp of his scotch and pushing away from the counter. “Speaking of that…” His gaze lingers on your throat… those faked moans echoing in his mind.

“I didn’t know it was common practice for women to walk their fucktoys to the door… especially when he doesn’t make you come.”

If your stomach was twisting before, there wasn’t a doubt now. And god… you couldn’t tell if it was that he was home, or his voice, or just the edged-feeling of your aching pussy; but König was making you squirm. More than he’d ever done before… and you’d gotten yourself off to the thought of him plenty of times before when no other fantasy had done the trick.

“I finished.” You defend, tightening the blanket around your waist and tucking your bare feet under the excess material pooling on the floor.

König’s eyes blacken, and he laughs lowly. It’s the closest you’ve seen to his behavior when he’s interrogating someone. His power of knowing all the right answers and just dangling the freedom to lie right in front of your face. Maddening, to say the least. And enough to make your thighs flex together.

“I’d like to believe you…” he begins, making leisurely steps closer. “Yet, I’ve spent more nights than I care to admit hearing you come… and what I just hear… is nothing close to the real thing.”

“It’s different with—when it’s not just me.” You gape at him, trying to find anger at the audacity.

Searching for something other than a feeling of arousal knowing that despite your muffled cries into pillows, he’d still heard you at night. Still listened, and if nothing else, knew what your true pleasure sounded like to call you on bullshit. He shrugs, massive hands resting on his hips. Watching them sway a little as he keeps getting closer. Testing the boundary lines you no doubt had. Pushing and prodding at weak spots, and wondering if he can set foot on the living room rug you stood at the center of.

“Different, huh?” The fake acceptance doesn’t last long. “So if I asked for proof… you’d have it?”

“Proof?” You choke out. “What kind of proof could I even give you?” There are plenty running around in your head, all of them raunchier than the previous. But you’re almost desperate to hear him say it.

“Sweetheart, you’ve got the wettest fucking cunt I’ve ever heard,” He growls softly. “You never finish yourself off without making the slickest goddamn noises. Can hear it from down the hallway like it’s playing off my phone.” He adds, voice getting gritty, eyes lowering towards your hips and back up.

“Show me, that is… if he really did make you come.”

Air in your lungs evaporates. God it’s criminal how fucking lewd anything could sound coming from his mouth. And your dry pussy is pathetically getting wetter by the second. Fluttering muscles twitching with each filthy admission he makes. You’re already resorting to putting pressure against your clit by flexing your legs, trying to deny the feelings. Excusing it all by the still-lingering desire for release and not König. Not moving, and a miserable lack of a response forces him to approach faster. Stepping onto the rug serving as a mental barrier for you.

“Embarrassed?” He asks, head tilting a little and stretching the hood to pull away from his chest a little. Putting a bit more of his chest on display in that tight t-shirt.

You shake your head defiantly.

“Oh? Okay then… you should be able to show me then, right? Pretty girl like you, wanting to get fucked… Should be more than willing to brag that you got satisfied. That he left you satiated…”

Your face burns. Debating how to answer. If it’s even smart to try and test your voice in the first place.

“Nothing to see… got-got cleaned up…” God the miserable truth that your no-name partner’s cum was the only thing needing cleaned off of you hits like a punch to the gut.

A massive hand grabs at the blanket in your grip stops all possibility of lying anymore. A warning. Gentle, for sure and meant to be just a small test of consent. However, you too far into this to not want more. He’s just hitting all the right buttons, whether he means to or not.

“How about I… check for myself?” He asks lowly, free hand -covered in a glove- sliding up under his hood and returning into sight with the achingly sexy sight of a huge, scarred hand. His meaning isn’t lost on you, and it’s almost like your cunt floods in anticipation.

“Slide my hand between your pretty thighs, and see just how good he treated you…” He murmurs, trailing fingers down the two sides of the blanket pulled together. “Let me see if that pussy is fucking drenched like she deserves to be.”

“König.” You warn softly, eyes darting down to his hand and back to his eyes.

Not the slightest bit worried about him touching you. Not at all. But about what would happen after all the tension faded. What would come of your relationship if you fucked… or, just made things complicated in general.And he pauses, looking to you a bit cooler. His breathing still heavy, and laden with emotion.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

You’re desperate to think of a way to explain yourself, but the most basic, stupid, comment comes out of your mouth.

“I don’t want this to end badly.”

He straightens just a bit. But his hands don’t move. And while from your perspective, it seems he’s hesitating on whether or not to continue, that’s not what’s got him stuck mere inches away from slipping his fingers between your folds.

He’s worried you know. That you’ve caught on to his inexperience, and are merely defending yourself from a second bad experience in one night. And god it makes this throat burn. Desperate to defend himself and prove that while -yes- he’s more than a little bit lost when it comes to the manual process, he’s still going to be the most teachable fucking man you’ve ever met.

“I’ll listen so well…” He eventually mutters, stepping just a bit closer. Voice lowering and a hint of desperation entering it. “Can—can give you everything you want… Just need to tell me…” he adds, unable to look you in the eyes.

It’s not exactly what you were expecting to hear, but it still strokes that burn between your thighs. Especially when his hands grip your hips through the blanket wrapped around you. Groping softly, massaging at the fat over your muscles and feeling hungry just to touch you.

“I… I don’t want things to be awkward afterwards.” You try to reexplain. Hoping the clarification will help him see why you hadn’t already leaned into his commanding touch.

“Awkward,” he repeats, as if it’s a foreign idea. Like it’d never crossed his mind. “Don’t plan on ignoring you anymore… Not—Not after hearing that… and knowing… fuck…”

“He couldn’t have listened… please tell me you tried to tell him what to do… what you wanted,” His rambles get more panicked. Like every thought in his head is equally important and he can’t take the time to pick one and let me even answer. “Should’ve asked what your pussy needed… how to make you feel good… make those pretty sounds..”

You’re half dazed just watching his breathy words fan the material of his hood to react to his boot kicking your feet apart. Wide hand sliding between your thighs and groaning. A deep, guttural sound that reminds of him being winded. And really… he probably should be. Because your inner thighs are dry to the touch. The wetness he’d been creating still not enough to make much fuss over. But he’s not satisfied with that alone. Immediately curling a finger to spread your lips, feeling the thick, slick of new arousal that had been nothing, if not his doing.

“Ohh, you poor baby…” He sighs lowly, head rolling back at the mere sensation of your pussy under his fingertips. Feeling you a bit anxiously, yet getting a buzz in the back of his skull when your hole pulses against his prodding touch. “Left you so fucking hot…”

It’s a fast movement but he’s got you off your feet and dropped down onto the couch in one swift move. Your back arched in the slumped position and the blanket that’d been covering your -pathetic- modesty, fluttered open on both sides of your hips. Leaving your core exposed to his hungry and heavy-lidded eyes. Letting out a little whine of a sound when he slowly drops to a knee; tracing his hands down your inner thighs like he was scared of touching you too harshly.

“König, please…” You gasp out, watching his thumb run over your swollen labias. Pinching your fat lips together softly and inadvertently putting delicious pressure on your swollen clit. He curses under his breath, free hand grabbing your thigh with bruising strength.

“Tell me how to please you,” He commands, eyes flashing dangerously wide in the icy moonlight streaming through the living room windows. “I need to make you come.”

His desperate, and knows you can see it. His whole body shakes seeing your flushed pussy a mere foot away from his face, and nothing but opportunity and his hood preventing him from burying his face in it. Watching as you shyly reach for his wrist, guiding his hand where you want it. Extending his fingers and whimpering when your motion for him to rub small circles over your clit sends those to-intense waves of pleasure through your pussy.

“Like that… just like that…” You’re able to praise with a shaky nod of your head.

Rocking your hips in tandem with his movements and nearly crying out in relief when he diligently keeps the same pressure to you despite your little twitches and grinds. Allowing you the freedom to plant your feet on the edge of the couch and simply feel. König’s lost in it. Lost in the sight of you. Your pretty mouth gaping open and your hips chasing the touch he’s providing. His breath catching when you cry out or give a weak praise for his work. Like you’re enjoyingwhat he’s doing.

But god he’s happy to stay right where you want him, how you want him. Feeling his knee dig into the harsh floorboards, and ignoring it with a refreshed feeling of duty he’d long lost as a soldier. Never had he been given such a pretty fucking prize to work for. Nothing as sweet as seeing your cunt drip from his rough fingers rubbing soft, almost too-soft circles over it. Not even realizing that he’d spent almost fifteen minutes just rubbing your clit lazily when your hand reaches back down. Happy to direct him yet again, especially when he doesn’t even need a verbal direction to do exactly what you want.

“Fingers,” You whisper through panting exhales. “Give me your fingers…”

Your little hand grabs his pointer and middle fingers, spreading your own slick over them like a goddamn professional before guiding him down to your aching hole. Letting go just long enough to feel the thick digits press though that first little ring of tightened muscle. Forcing your eyes open to witness his mostly-hidden expression as he sinks knuckle deep inside of you.

“So fucking pretty,” His head shakes a little, lost in the creamy slick gathering at the base of his fingers as he curls him up towards your pelvis just a little. Subconsciously scared to do the wrong thing, but desperate to keep your cunt flex and mold to his touch. “Tell me, sweetheart… show me what she needs.”

You’re too possessed to chase your high to not listen. Readjusting your bent legs on the couch to gently lift your hips and sink them back down. Slowly getting used to the feeling of his thick fingers, already deeper than your no-name partner. Groaning when they bump into your g-spot just hard enough to make your clit burn. Grinding against his hand and keeping one hand wrapped around his wrist just to try and ground yourself to the present situation. Lost in the rhythm of fucking yourself -quite literally- stupid within mere minutes. Beginning to hear that vulgar, sucking sound of your pussy gripping his fingers and utterly drooling over his palms.

König’s helpless to so more than sing your praise. “That’s a good girl… so good for me. Using me like a fucking toy.”

It’s the best he’s felt in a long time. Watching you take from him. Too absorbed to even think about anything other than yourself. Not in enough control to even worry about the true moans and yelps escaping you. Real pleasure wracking your body and burning every nerve ending.

“More… please more…” You cry softly, hips slowing to a painfully sexy grind as you squeeze the tendons in his wrist with your thumb.

König takes a little more initiative than he’s normally comfortably using, but adds a third finger. Slowly pumping them in and out, little by little, to help you adjust. Watching as your eyebrows pinch together in focus. A low growl rumbles in his chest, his mouth practically watering as your cunt sucks him in.

“Let me taste it, baby…” He huffs, head flinching forwards before backing off, repeating the action a couple more times. “Wanna help… just—just let me taste you…”

You clench around his fingers when he rests his cheek against your inner thigh. Big, wide eyes pleading with you so innocently like he isn’t stretching your hole wider than the biggest of your toys can with nothing but a few fingers. Forcing you to slow the roll of your hips, a shaky hand reaching out to cup his face through the mask. Rubbing a thumb over his hidden cheekbone with a little whimpered hum. Pulling his head closer to you, hissing when the hem of his hood merely grazes your clit.

“How’d you want it?” He asks, head down and pulling his mask up so you’re stuck. Forced to merely feel his mouth so close to you, and not see the shape of his mouth.

“Lick-lick my clit… s-soft…” You whine, eye shutting when the hot fan of his exhale his your fevered skin.

Holding his head steady with one hand, you almost coming up off the couch when his tongue makes one, long, lazy, lap between your folds. Gripping at the material of his hood just tight enough that he ends up ripping the whole thing off. Tossing it to the floor with an aggressive snarl that rumbles against your clit. Sparks of pleasure forcing your thighs apart and jerking your hips back up. Chasing his mouth. The rough texture of his tongue, and the slight graze of his teeth against your slicked folds.

Your orgasm approaches fast from there. Between his fingertips stroking you deep, and the new rhythm of his tongue lapping your slick up to massage your clit, it’s hard to even warn König that he can’t stop for risk of ruining your long-awaited release.

“König… K… oh… fuucckk…”

Your back arches tightly, both hands grabbing harshly at his hair with an unintelligible shout as you come. Jerking wildly and one of your feet losing it’s hold on the edge of the couch. Trying to fight through the shocks of pleasure, and groaning curses with a hoarse throat. Feeling König’s free hand latch onto your thigh to keep you from running away too far from his still-working lips and tongue. Sucking up the wet drips of release trying to drip down his hand.

“Slow, slow down.” You whimper, pushing at his forehead just a little. The pressure too much. The stretch of his fingers still satisfying but overstimulating.

Your so fucking grateful that he doesn’t fight you on it, or force you to try for another. And maybe it’s just the mere sight of you. abdominal muscles twitching, forcing your upper body to do baby-curls with each flex of your pulsing cunt. Toes curled and an all-over buzzing sensation making it hard to even make sense of where your limbs are in relation to the rest of your body, much less König or the couch your hardly laying on.

“You okay, sweetheart?” His softened voice almost gives you emotional whiplash, especially when he bends over you forehead resting against yours softly.

Gently removing his fingers with murmured apologies when your little winces mar your pretty features. Both hands sliding up your sides to help lift you back onto the couch, moving to sit himself next to you just long enough to reposition your body on his lap. Pulling that blanket back over your bottom half and maneuvering your cold, tingling feet between his thighs like he can tell they’re freezing. He presses soft kisses all over your forehead and nose. Rocking you softly and squeezing at the muscles in the back of your neck reassuringly.

“You needed that… needed to feel good…” he murmurs almost lovingly.

You nod dumbly, laying your head against his shoulder. Letting out soft nearly unconscious whimpers and a soft repetition of his name in cum-drunk appreciation.

“Told you I could listen… could be good for you,” He adds, almost like he’s reassuring himself of the idea. “Wanted to be better than him. Needed to prove it.”

He holds up your weighty head, stabilizing it with care and a sickeningly sweet look of devotion in his eyes.

“You’re never going to fake it again, sweetheart.”

reblogs & comments are always appreciated <3

[cannibalsrider]

Ill betray you like a man

wc. 2,705

pairings: post timeskip! atsumu x mangaka!fem reader

warnings: mentions of alcohol,mentions of sex and hookups, unhealthy relationships, hurt/no comfort, actual pure pain, wtv else for tags I'm not sure

an: i rlly liked writing this i might make a part 2 for this if you guys like this but send requests if u have any characters and prompts you want written for!

Tokyo had seemed colder that night. The two of them sat on the curb in front of the bar where they and their friends had always seemed to be regulars. But tonight was different. It was just the two of them—no Bokuto, Meian, Hinata, or anyone else to steer the conversation. It was unusually quiet for them. The only light flickering between them was the click of her lighter as she let the cigarette hang from her lips. Atsumu moved his hands as if it were second nature to help her light it after she struggled and grumbled strings of incoherent curses at the wind.

“Thank you,” Y/N mumbled as she took a long drag from the cigarette. The smell seemed to relax them both after the long day they had. Atsumu gave a small nod as he watched her for a moment. Something in him felt the memories of high school returning—the late nights they would sit outside after a long day, or after losing to Karasuno in their second year when they sat in the cold night watching the stars just to comfort each other. It seemed like a recurring thing, them sitting outside together like this throughout their relationship and their friendship afterward. It might seem cliché to think about it, even after so many partners they’ve both had since high school, but something always seemed to keep them tied together as if it was fate for them to hurt this much.

“Thanks for the drinks,” he told her with a soft smile, earning him a nod.

“You always buy mine, so I just thought to return the favor,” she responded, flicking the ash from her cigarette. “Plus, you deserved it after today’s game. You did good,” she told him, the praise making him grin. Oh god, that grin always had her in a chokehold. How could he sit there and look so pretty after spending so long on the court? Why did she always want him the moment she was finally fine? It was like she had always known she was meant to be hurt but still be with him, to grow old together with her working on her manga and him in volleyball. It was supposed to be fate, right?

“It only went so well because you were in the stands watching us,” he blurted out, his voice devoid of the usual cocky tone he always wore but instead sincere, like the night he had first asked her out. She almost wanted to laugh at the thought that he believed she made him play better. She always felt like he was miles ahead of everyone in sports and some aspects of their former school life. He had always been the sun, and she was the moon. She always circled him, never able to catch up to his pace.

“You don’t need me to make you play better, Atsu. We both know you’re the star on that court every time you get on it,” she murmured, her voice soft and soothing to his ears like a lullaby in a drunken haze.

“You always made me play better ever since we were little,” he returned. At that moment, Atsumu just seemed to want to stare into her eyes for as long as he could, just to see the beauty he could always find in her no matter how drunk or sad she was. She had been the brightness in the night sky leading him back home. No matter who broke his heart, she would always be there to mend whatever the person broke.

“Because you’re my favorite player I’ve ever seen,” she hummed with a small smile. The cigarette lifted with the curve of her shiny lips, a small ring of red pigment visible if you looked as hard as Atsumu always had at her lips. To him, she was a goddess living among mortal humans, but to her, he was the mortal she always returned to, so that she could feel something away from the gods’ wrath reigning down on the mortals who had dared to anger them.

It was stupid, in a way, how Atsumu and Y/N had always sought out the other in the partners they had since their breakup on graduation day. It was like they yearned for a memory to stick with them of the other, even if it was forbidden for them to keep each other as they once had. The secret nights on the roof of the abandoned building near her house, or how his mother and grandma treated her as if she was more family than just a friend or their son and grandson's girlfriend—it was like she had wiggled her way into the hearts of everyone, even the lives of their upperclassmen and juniors. She was always there for them all but always seemed to stay Atsumu's number one fan.

It probably seemed so dumb to still hold onto the hope that he would ask her to stay with him, and they would become those grumpy old people who liked to yell at teenagers running all over their garden when they were with friends. Or how she always described her grandma and grandpa to be like—an arranged marriage still blossoming into love until their last breaths, out of pure devotion for one another. Maybe in another universe, he would have asked her to stay, and she would have stayed with him, and they lived out their dreams together instead of a loop of, "This is a one-time thing, Atsu. We can't get attached. We aren't seventeen anymore." He knew she wasn't lying; he was her favorite player, even with the wins and losses he had in high school. She was always his biggest supporter, but now it was a rare sight to see her at his games. She always found a way to make it up to him.

It was like he was the guard dog, and she was the sacrificial lamb who was always meant to be hurt from birth. He wanted to protect her from the fate she believed she was doomed to stay with till death. "That's a lot coming from someone who only remembers volleyball players if we went to school with them or if you met them while we went out drinking after games," he responded after a lick of silence. God, he must have looked like an idiot staring at her for so long.

"I was always more into art instead of sports, like you and 'Samu, but look at us now. We're all doing something that makes us happy," she said in response as she stared back at him. The air felt so stale, even with them sitting outside. For her, it felt like the lump in her throat she couldn't make go away just at the sight of him and that dopey smile he had since they were young. It all hurt too much to even bear, but she still did. She always would if it meant making him happy, no matter the cost. She had to, didn't she?

"Remember that poster you made for the volleyball club in our second year?" he asked her with a small chuckle. He remembered it so well for some reason—the look of her so excited to have helped her best friend get more popular in the sport he had grown in so much.

"Oh god, I remember it. I think it was one of my first pieces of digital art. I had mixed in with the yearbook club president's help. I still have some of the photos at my apartment, I think," she responded, exhaling the smoke she held in her cheeks. He had always thought they were so soft, even when she had little blemishes. It was always his favorite thing to touch, never in a wrong way, just in the idea that he always wanted to be close to her when she was near. Whether it was simple contact between them or just the knowledge she was there watching him at a game, even though she didn't understand anything happening, all that mattered was that it was them together. That's all it was. It had to have been; it couldn't have been more than it was.

"I'll have to come over and see them sometime. I'd think the social media manager would love to use some of my old pics for a throwback post or something," he huffed with a small grin. She perked up.

"There's a beautiful park not far from here if you wanna go for a walk. Since I'm pretty sure we both are probably too drunk to drive currently, Atsu," she said with a laugh that made his stomach churn with regret of the past. A smile turned up at the corner of his lip.

He stood up, brushing his dusty hands off on his jeans. “C’mon then, we’re not getting any older here sitting on the curb like we’re waiting for something to happen,” he told her with a smile, holding out his hand. She smashed the lipstick-stained cigarette on the concrete before taking his hand.

“I’ll show you the way. I found it when I was researching for a good location in this last chapter,” she told him, dropping the bud into a little cigarette can so they didn’t stay on the pavement.

“How did the readers like it, anyway? You never told me?” Atsumu asked, his tone curious. He was always eager to learn about how her manga was doing since she had always drawn stuff you’d think would be shoujo, not a story about a schoolgirl managing the troubles of normal life, like falling in love and meeting her soulmate, Kasai, from childhood. Even with all the pain and suffering they had caused each other since childhood, mixed with the looming threat of a man who could control much of Japan’s population as he searched for the power the girl held deep inside her—a secret not even revealed to Kasai.

“A lot of them got upset since I’d been on a break for like a week after spraining my hand when I got really drunk with Saeko and Yachi,” she answered with a soft smile. She always knew her fans could be a bit crazy. She was just glad she had always remained under a pen name, so her friends wouldn’t get harassed by people who didn’t like it or who did and would pester her siblings or parents about it. “But they’ll be fine. They always will be since I released a lot of new sketches for them to see. My editor says the fans really like them so far in this current arc,” she added, her smile never wavering as she led him down the blinding Tokyo streets lit up with different signs and billboards.

They walked towards what Atsumu knew was a constantly bustling area of Tokyo's back streets, full of natives and tourists alike. But who cared about everyone else? All that mattered to them was each other. Her footsteps made a soft crunch with each step as they got closer to the park. He could make out a swing set and a set of slides in the distance. The park seemed full to the brim with little toys left by children who must have visited before them.

“It’s really pretty, Y/N,” he told her with a kind smile. She ran over to one of the swings and sat down, as if she were a little girl once again with the same chubby cheeks, wanting to get to the swings first so she could make one of the Miya brothers push her. But now, she had grown into her body, those chubby cheeks transforming into the soft pillows of flesh that had scratched an itch in his brain he never knew he had the first time he cradled her face.

It was weird. The first time he remembered the two kissing was at a park eerily similar to this, when they had gone for a practice match with Nekoma. He remembered the cherry blossom tree right behind the set of swings, hanging over it like a shield to protect the life of a soldier who had fought through God knows what horrors. Instead, it was a tree soaked in the memories of its viewers.

Atsumu seemed to have wanted to be around her forever—the smell of cigarettes, alcohol, and her perfume strangling his nose. It felt comforting, knowing she was with him, even though it wasn't like how it was when they were younger. It was still something he would never take for granted again, as long as he breathed. He moved behind her, watching each movement he could spot as she waited for him to push her. “Do you think you would have stayed when I asked, Y/N?” he said, loud enough for her to hear. Her movements stilled, as if she was holding her breath as tight as she could, trying to wake herself up. Maybe God was just trying to torture her for the sins of her current and past lives, wanting to take vengeance for whatever she must have done. Maybe she had killed one of his angels in some form they had taken, or he just wished for her to atone for her sins in this form, having to face this question she always dreaded.

“You never asked, so I don’t think we’ll ever find out, Atsu,” she responded. Her voice seemed so lost, as if she was unsure if it was the right thing to say, but she had to respond. She couldn’t leave him like that.

Y/N shot up from her spot on the bed. Her body felt ice-cold, like it was all just a cruel joke her mind wanted to play on her. That night, she couldn’t remember anything except the vague memory of going out drinking with the twins and some of their friends from high school and the team after a match between EJP and MSBY—a seemingly nice reunion for them all, except for the drunk hookups that always happened between Atsumu and her. Every time, she would say how she hated him for what he did to her and that she didn’t want him getting attached again because it wouldn’t work in any universe. Y/N and Miya Atsumu would never be a couple. It would always fail, and they would never be happy with each other, no matter the blissful times they might share. It was all over. They couldn’t cling to the hope that the connection would be there just like it was in high school. She looked over and saw Atsumu passed out, half-naked, and noticed some of her clothes scattered on the floor beside his bed. God, this felt like she was back in college again, doing the walk of shame back to her apartment after a drunken hookup. But instead, it was like a human torture machine was her heart, always dragging the deep feelings of resentment from her heart she hoped would never surface again.

She grabbed her loose pieces of clothing from the night prior. Should she feel guilty leaving him like this? She had to have felt something deep down inside as she left his bedroom without saying a single word to wake him, but something in her knew he was probably wide awake. He always was. It was like clockwork—he would get up before her and watch her every morning after, like a love-stricken dog, just like how she used to be for him for God knows how many years, like a loyal dog following its master to its grave. Instead, she was just a girl who fell too hard and allowed herself to get hurt over something so stupid.

In the end, Y/N and Miya Atsumu would always be meant to fail—the sun and the moon never being able to meet as close as they needed to but always hoping and yearning to be with one another at a point in time. But it would never happen. It couldn’t. She had to hate him for tearing her soul in two and putting it on display for everyone.

[satohqbanana]

Here's another attempt on how I will tackle AV2 characters in my story, "The Prince and the Witch", which is a slight AU sequel to the events of Ean's Quest. While the story focuses on Nicolas and an OC, but this post details the way I will handle the main party!

IMPORTANT NOTE: I'm aware that the AV universe is supposed to have a feminist and matriarchal flavor to it. However, there are still integral parts of it that make me feel like it wasn't able to completely discard some male-dominant views. Since certain gimmicks and characterizations do rely on it, here I chose to still consider that side of AV.

Ean

He's just a Regular Guy TM in the Vale. He's had a pretty average life with the simple dream of carrying on everyday with his loved ones and watching them succeed with their own things.

Sometimes, he cares too much, and that's a problem.

He's not afraid to speak his mind, call people out, and demand responsibility from others. He also regularly establishes boundaries when he can. He's willing to back off in the face of a perceived bigger threat, but tries to find loopholes to get his desired outcome.

On that note, Ean could bottle up his rage and frustrations pretty well. He can summon them again in battle and can be scary when he needs to be.

As an elf from the Vale, he probably gets Problem Sense Tingles a la Spidey Sense whenever something in the Land of Man doesn't feel right.

He's a little shy with his romantic feelings for Iya.

He is very nurturing. He tries so hard to understand his party members, but majority of his focus is on Iya.

Among the party members, Rye is his best buddy and also serves as his teacher in battle.

He lets Ava take lead sometimes, and he is very accommodating to everyone else who offers to join them in his quest.

Iya

As someone who was born with potential and raised with praises, all she wants is validation, acceptance, and assurance. She likes doing things for others, if it will make them like her.

Her memories as old Iya are still fuzzy, partly from having her soul ripped apart, partly from being treated poorly by her family.

Song magic does rely on her voice, so she developed the habit of not saying much, until her anxiety gets the better of her.

She often sticks to Ean's side and opinions since she feels the safest next to him. She acts cutesy with him to win his affections and attention. She's always had a crush on him, though prior to her kidnapping she was too focused on pleasing her family to ever act on her feelings.

Thanks to her time in Shaenlir, she has quickly mastered the diplomatic smile. She is also very mindful of rules and would not like to break them or even go around them.

She's not as fond of anyone else in the party, but she's willing to be civil since that's what Ean wants. Emma and Gavin in particular make her a bit uncomfortable.

Rye

There's a specific type of girl he hates and it's the ones who dream of rose-colored lives with rich men saving them from a life of cold, hard manual labor. (He's good with women who he considers are rough and tough, like Emma and Ava.) This is heavily influenced by local girls, especially his older sisters.

He knows he's not as smart and he's insecure about it.

He likes to talk. A lot. He needs to spend energy talking or he'll end up very annoyed and unwilling to cooperate.

As a hunter and a farmer, he is the brawn of the party. He also serves as their cook and initially carried most of their stuff.

He utterly hates Iya and her perceived vulnerability and dependence on Ean.

He thinks what he feels for Emma is something akin to romance, because he genuinely wants to support a hardworking person like her (and Ean).

He respects Ava and Gavin as established people in their respective fields, but hates and envies Nicolas for being so privileged.

Though initially wary of Jack, they vibe together so Rye is willing to overlook the whole criminal thing.

Emma

Having grown in a kingdom obsessed with romantic love, she swore to stand out and be not like other girls for real. She delights in gross and ugly things mostly to make people leave her alone.

That said, she hates being bossed around. She will use the volume of her voice and change her posture to appear bigger.

Whatever she puts her mind to, she is good at it. The only things she would avoid delving in are romantic relationships and kids.

She wasn't too fortunate as a young girl, so as an adult, she promised to always get what she wants.

She isn't romantically interested in Rye, but she thinks he's twice as better as the other available candidates for a spouse since he has similar views on romance and wouldn't be a nuisance about it.

To deal with Nicolas, she plays dumb about his requests so he'd think she's too incompetent to be bossed around.

She likes having Ean as a leader since he allows her to do whatever as long as she's done with her part of the thing. She's less enthused with Ava around since she finds Ava a bit strict for her taste.

She likes to hang with Gavin because he's cool and they have the best banter together (after Rye).

She also likes to bully Iya a bit, because she thinks Iya should grow a spine.

As an occasional thief and mischief maker, she respects Jack's hustle; even asks him for his tips and tricks.

Nicolas

His mother is his father's second wife, thus the big age gap between him and Uthar. He was essentially a rainbow baby so Guevene spoiled him a lot.

The Uthar he met is more prim and proper, a dependable guy with a knack for pranks and fun times. He looks up to his brother and considers Uthar's word as law, so Nicolas will do the dirty work if Uthar tells him so.

Hard pass if it means he has to listen to someone else, though. He will do things when he feels like doing it.

He loves to be pampered. He feels entitled to other people's service. He does not care if they like him or hate him, as long as it does not inconvenience him.

He is very untrustworthy towards people who do not look attractive or "clean" to him, like the witches. He was taught that all these kinds of people would take advantage of him.

He initially only likes Iya among the party members because she knows how to act like a proper lady. He doesn't know she doesn't exactly like him.

He initially doesn't respect Ava and doesn't believe Uthar is friends with her.

He doubts Ean's leadership, but as long as Nicolas fulfills Uthar's request of him, he will see the end of the quest.

Ava

Her real name is Evangeline Harper. She became an outlaw because she hated her origin country's government. She eventually snuck out to sea, made her own name from befriending other runaways, and established her own crew. They use seemingly derogatory codenames to appear unserious and unalarming.

Her ship is called "Freowright". She got stuck in Seri for a bit after the Snow Queen deployed soldiers in the mainland; now Ava has two ships. The other ship, built during the resistance against the Snow Queen, she's nicknamed "The Commissioner".

Ava grew on tough love and thus shows it as well to put people in place. As both a disciplinarian, the oldest, and the most experienced of the party, Ean assigned her as second-in-command.

Unlike Ean who's happy enough to have everyone help in battle or solve mysteries with him, she sees to it that everyone does their share of the work before slacking off.

Ava once wanted to settle down, but things didn't work out. Eventually she started pushing away other potential partners in fear of having to deal with heartbreak again. It doesn't help that she willingly stripped herself of her personal sense of femininity in an effort to look powerful when she was starting out.

She doesn't like to tell her personal stories to everyone, but when she does, it's a sign that the person she's telling it to has earned her trust. The only exception is Iya, who needs much guidance as an amnesiac and lost dreamer.

Gavin

As someone who grew up in a matriarchal society, he unabashedly calls women pet names the way a clique of girls do.

His upbringing doesn't prevent him from trying to actually flirt with girls. He loves women and the company of women. And it doesn't help that he's been so used to the attention of women as a warlock who grew up surrounded by them.

He is essentially a communist who's against excessive hoarding of wealth and thus abhors nobility and royalty alike. He immediately signs up to be the party's provisions manager.

Since he's a warlock, he doesn't really see "ugliness" as an insult. It's part of the charm.

Iya is among the girls he's backed away from, mostly because she and Ean hover around each other too much. Gavin's charms did at one point work on Emma, but they decided that being friends who occasionally "flirt" was way better.

He actually wasn't as romantically interested in Ava, but his witch's nature demand that he annoy her for a bit. When Gavin notices she responds quite favorably with very feminine nicknames and monikers, this interests him because it creates a contrast from the image she portrays. It's this part of her that he likes to try and bring out more.

Jack

He tries not to get too close to anyone because as a criminal, most of his bonds are very shaky and temporary.

He's quite lazy and would rather spend time having fun with friends and what money he has in his pockets.

He has a lot of comments about how to do things. Too bad a lot of them is also outdated.

He likes to get on people's nerves to see how much he could get away with. Only Rye and Emma have "passed" this test. Jack has also learned not to cross Ean too much because Ean's wrath is something else, and that Ava hates hearing her name being lengthened, but won't try to do anything against him for it.

Aside from being the party's resident menace, he also scouts ahead with Rye.

[matryosika]

Day 9: Sensory deprivation with Hyunjin, Seungmin and Jeongin.

Wordcount — 2,874 words

Includes — Sensory deprivation (use of blindfold), (implied) foursome, established relationship, themes of possessiveness, fingering (+ anal), finger sucking, praises.

Author's note — I know how inconsistent I've been with this... Please don't hate me, but I've been much more busy than I expected. I'm sorry for leaving you without kinktober updates for a while, but I will try my best to balance both things (uni and being a smut writer haha!). I'm sorry for not uploading each day, as it should be, but I will definitely upload all 31 drabbles in the end. So here it is, day 9. I actually stole my own idea (because I wrote something like this before, but with two stray kids members and a txt one) but this one is better because I've improved so much ever since haha and that thing I uploaded was like a 300 words drabble. This one is... quite something else. I hope you all enjoy this, and please remember than english it's not my first language! (I know I said I wouldn't be updating kinktober during the weekends but well, this week was hell at uni and I should upload this now!)

What did you expect? In all honesty. 

You have always known how possessive your boyfriend is, and how easily he can get jealous at times —one stare, one touch, one smile and Hyunjin is already cocking an eyebrow with his intimidating gaze all over you. 

Hyunjin is possessive, but he knows it's his problem —he doesn't doubt your love for a second, nor does he thrive on putting you in an ugly place by arguing with you about silly little details he can't help but notice. He might be possessive, but the relationship Hyunjin has with you is far from being unhealthy —if there is something that upsets him, or you, you always talk it out and try to solve it as fast as you possibly can. 

Tonight, though, Hyunjin has other plans in mind to resolve that situation you naively put yourself into. 

“You should recognize my touch by now,” he tells you, a pair of long, slim hands caressing your naked legs. “Don't let me down”. 

“Hyune,” the whole scenario is arousing you more than it should. You are blindfolded and half-naked in his bed, three pairs of hands all over you while you hear them talking among them as if you aren't there. “Come on”. 

“Don't you want this?” he asks you, the sound of his voice coming from a different place than the last time he spoke. “Thought you liked Jeongin and Seungmin”.

“Y-yes, I mean,” you try to find a way to put your thoughts into words, but it is useless —you can feel your laced underwear sticking to your folds, and everytime a hand reaches your inner thigh you squirm in your place. “But do you?” 

“Do I want this?” he queries with a soft scoff, his voice getting lost in the warm sensation of their skin against yours. “If I didn't, I wouldn't have lured them into this, pretty”. 

Him, being as possessive as he is, gets nothing from the whole thing —there has to be something in it for Hyunjin to do something as crazy as sharing you with his friends. 

“What's in it for you?” you ask, breathing heavily when a pair of hands explore something that hasn't been touched throughout the night —your tits.

“Consider this a test,” he answers you, his voice sounding far away from you but your body still recognizing six hands groping and caressing it. “That's why you have a blindfold on, so you don't cheat”. 

“I don't get this,” you murmur, bucking your hips when a cold hand sneaks between your thighs, naively brushing against your wet crotch. “You are making it very hard for me to follow you”. 

“You are smart,” your boyfriend sighs. At the same time, one hand opens your legs with such boldness that could only be Hyunjin's. You can't be sure, though. “I know you can figure this out on your own”. 

A few days ago, and after a small situation during a night out, Hyunjin brought something to the table you couldn't believe he was even suggesting it —a foursome. 

“Are you sure about this?” you had asked him, with a look of disbelief that made him giggle. “What about them? Do they want to?” 

“I talked to Seungmin and Jeongin already, they are more than happy to participate,” he explained to you, much more relaxed than how tense you were during that conversation, “as for me… I guess I've always wanted to try it out. I trust them and us, so it is worth a shot”. 

Hyunjin wasn't lying when he told you he had always wanted to have a threesome or a foursome —that much was true. But that wasn't the main reason why he proposed the whole thing. 

“I can assure you I can't,” you exhale, trying to decipher who, out of the three men in bed with you, is touching you where. “So what is this blindfold for? Don't want me looking at other men when they fuck me?” 

The sarcastic comment makes them laugh, and Hyunjin shakes his head with amusement. “It enhances your senses,” Seungmin tells you, making you instinctively turn to where his voice is coming from. “You get to feel and hear more”. 

“This was your idea?” To be honest, you can expect anything from him —he might be quiet and shy at times, but you have always seen right through him. 

“No,” Seungmin replies. 

“Jeongin?” you ask again, turning the other side as if someone had reassured you that he is there. “Was it yours?” 

“You are asking too many questions,” he tells you, the sound of his voice coming from a completely different place than you had expected. “And Hyunjin said this is supposed to be a test for you, not us”. 

“You guys are making me lose my mind,” you laugh nervously, feeling the weight on the bed shifting as they exchange places with one another. “I won't ask any more questions about the blindfold but please just stop teasing me”. 

“Teasing you?” Hyunjin queries. “Are you not enjoying this?” 

“I am, it's just-” there isn't really a way to say that you are dying to get fucked by your boyfriend and his friends —of course, that's exactly what you want, but the thought of saying those words out loud embarrasses you. “I want more”.

“Is having our hands touching your body not enough?” Some slim, cold fingers push your damp underwear to the side and you gasp quietly when the air hits your naked core. “Last time I checked, you liked their hands a lot. Thought you would like them even more if they were on you”. 

“Huh?” Hyunjin's comment is even more confusing than everything else that has happened up until this point, but you still try to give it some sense. “What does that has to d-”. 

“Remember the day I caught you staring?” 

It is an embarrassing memory, if you are being honest. But yes, you still remember it. 

You were having dinner with him and his friends at Jeongin's place one night after work. In the midst of it, Hyunjin could pick on how you kept staring at Seungmin’s and Jeongin's hands intriguingly, trying to dissemble but failing almost immediately. On the way back home, Hyunjin teased you about it for a while, mocked you for being “too obvious” and told you that they probably noticed you drooling all over their hands as well, but that was pretty much it.

Or so you thought.

“Yes,” you sigh in embarrassment. “If you want to expose me in front of your friends, go ahead”. 

Your boyfriend scoffs softly, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Expose you?” he queries, “pretty, I’m giving you what you were craving” .

“And that is?” 

Right after your question, a pair of fingers caress your lips before entering your mouth. You suck on them eagerly, tasting every inch of skin you possibly can.

“Whose fingers are those?” Hyunjin asks, too close for you to think he is the owner of said fingers, yet too mischievous to actually be him. 

Remember, this is a test.

“Suck them all the way in,” he whispers, amused by how your tongue wraps around them. “Taste them, and give me your answer”.

One thing you are sure of, they don’t taste like Hyunjin. 

It’s between Seungmin and Jeongin, yet the possibility of it being Hyunjin and you failing would only disappoint him.

And that’s the last thing you want.

“You really can’t see it, but these guys are desperate to fuck you,” your boyfriend tsks his tongue, trying to get you to answer. “They are hard, and they surely don’t want to spend all night trying to prove how well you know me”. 

“Jeongin,” you murmur with your mouth full. “I- don’t know”.

“Sure?” Jeongin’s voice is coming from the opposite side from where you were expecting it, and that only confuses you more.

You mean to change your answer, but you suddenly feel the tip of someone’s digits spreading your folds open, making you buck your hips almost aggressively at the unexpected action.

“Fuck,” you babble with the fingers deep inside your throat, eyes watering underneath the blindfolds. 

 “Easy,” Hyunjin scoffs, his cock twitching when he sees how receptive you are to his friends’ touch. “Don’t be too eager”.

“What do you want?” you murmur, chin glistening with your own drool. 

“I want to prove to you that no one’s touch can feel like mine does,” your boyfriend whispers, the tip of another finger trailing along your collarbone and shoulder, making you shiver. “You spent minutes staring at their hands, but mines have given you more pleasure than you can ever remember”. 

“That’s not up for discussion,” you exhale, swallowing hard when every single puzzle piece of Hyunjin’s wicked plan starts connecting to each other. “None compare to yours”.

“Oh, I know that,” he places a wet peck on your shoulder, his plump lips all too familiar with you. “But I want you to prove that to me”. 

As you talk to Hyunjin, his two friends continue touching you; one teasing your cunt while the other one plays with your erected nipples, making you whimper in between words.

“How?”

“Get on all fours,” he orders you, guiding his hand to your scalp and pulling your hair softly, making you gasp quietly. “And don’t let me down”. 

With their help, you do as you are being told —knees and forearms against the bed, bent, arse up and head down, heart beating fast while you await for the next command. 

“So fucking wet,” one of them hisses, the other ones agreeing with him. The bed’s weight shifts every time they move around you, trying to encounter the perfect position for whatever they are going to do next. 

“You look so pretty in this position,” Hyunjin praises you, his breath caressing your left cheek. “Want to be the first one to fuck you tonight, but I won’t be greedy”.

Again, a pair of fingers caresses your lips, and you welcome them again by opening your mouth and taking them all the way in.

“This is going to be simple,” your boyfriend announces, feeling a big hand caressing one of your ass-cheeks. “You are going to have someone’s fingers fucking your mouth,” when he says that, the fingers inside prod even deeper inside your wet hole, making you gag all over them, “someone elses’ fucking your cunt,” another pair spreads your wet folds, all sticky and slippery with your arousal, “and someone elses’ fucking your ass”. 

Your cunt clenches at his words —knowing you are going to be filled by all three of them so early in the night makes you wetter than you ever thought. 

“You just have to know which ones are mine,” you can’t see him, but he has the most devilish, playful grin. “Easy, right?”

You gulp nervously when the fingers leave your mouth, expecting the sudden stretch on all three of your holes soon. You wait patiently for it, swaying your hips from side to side while they prepare everything.

“Think you can get it right on the first try?” Seungmin asks you, voice so calming and soothing that it makes you forget the position you are in. “You know how dramatic Hyunjin gets”.

“Can you give me a clue?” you pout, feeling his lips close to yours.

“You know I always like to play fair,” he tells you, brushing his lips against yours. “But the faster we get this over with, the faster we can have fun”. 

He leaves a wet peck on your lips and joins Hyunjin and Jeongin at the edge of the bed, all three of them getting ready to follow your boyfriend's orders.

The bed’s weight shifts, again, and you feel all three of them close to where the upper part of your body is. 

“Ready?”

When Jeongin speaks, you realize that all three of them are close enough for you to not be able to distinguish where their voices are coming from —the closer they are to you, the harder it gets to differentiate if they are the ones fucking your mouth, cunt or ass.

“Yes,” you whisper, raising your head to meet the first man. 

Although you said earlier it is not up for discussion, being blindfolded makes everything complicated —you really can’t tell if it’s Hyunjin, the one who has his fingers in your mouth, or not.

Then again, things get much more complicated when the rest follows; two fingers inside your throbbing pussy, and another one inside your ass. 

“Shit,” you whimper, the sound coming out strangled by the fingers muffling it. 

“Too much?” Seungmin asks you, all three laughing in unison.

“Think you can handle all of us at the same time?” your boyfriend asks you, “you can barely take our fingers”. 

Your cunt throbs at the idea, and the two men touching you can feel it. 

“I think she is dying for it,” Jeongin says, and not being able to differentiate whose fingers are inside each of your holes is driving you insane. “Didn’t even hesitate when you proposed this to her”. 

After some time, all three of them start moving their fingers inside you, making you feel pleasured and full with each thrust.

“G-god,” you babble, drooling all over his fingers while you feel a certain tension starting to build up in your lower abdomen. 

“So, baby,” Hyunjin tells you, his words coming out strangled while the bulge inside his pants gets harder with time. Seems like the situation is affecting him much more than he thought. “Got your answer already?”

You shake your head. “Don’t want to- fail”. 

“I know you won’t,” he breathes, “You are my good girl. You can never disappoint me”. 

You moan at his words, the praises doing wonders for both your ego and your pleasure. 

“We really can’t wait to fuck you,” he continues with trembling breath. “So tell me, where am I touching you?”

It’s difficult when it is happening all at once, but you have grown used to his touch to the point of knowing that the person fucking your mouth it’s not him.

It doesn’t taste like him, nor does he move his fingers inside you like he does —the man fucking your mouth it’s doing it slower and less deeper than Hyunjin likes it. 

Your mind is getting clouded with pleasure and nervousness, body reacting to their touch yet the rational part of you is trying to come up with the correct answer —you want nothing but to make Hyunjin proud tonight, to let him know that even while having his friends fucking you, he is the one you want and love.

“F-fuck, Hyune,” you are close to coming, and not close to get to the answer. You are getting needy, and desperate, and want to say the first thing that comes to mind but you know that’s not what your boyfriend wants.

So you try to hold on and feel them, try to recognize the man who has made you come so many times you’ve lost count. 

“Tell me,” Hyunjin repeats, voice much deeper than before. “Where am I touching you?”

You clench around their fingers again, sucking eagerly the ones in your mouth while you do everything you can to remain sane. But the tension is starting to unravel now, and you have to give him an answer now. 

“Ass!” you yell around the fingers, bucking your hips against their touch. “Ass, you’re fucking my ass!”.

When you say so, Hyunjin laughs with satisfaction —you’ve guessed it right. 

“See?” he asks you, thrusting his finger even deeper in you while the fingers working on your pussy do exactly the same, curling inside you while brushing against your g-spot. “It wasn’t that hard, was it?”

You shake your head frantically, crying and whining while all three of them use your holes. 

“Come for us,” Hyunjin groans, “Show us how much you are enjoying all of this”. 

Even with the blindfold on, you shut your eyes tightly and allow your orgasm to wash all over you —your body trembling and toes curling while Hyunjin and his friend continue fucking you through it, making you moan and whimper each time louder.

“There you go,” Jeongin murmurs, “she is so fucking pretty”.

“Oh, she is,” Seungmin follows him, all three of them talking as if they are not making you come right then and there.

“So cute how she moans,” one of them says, and the other one agrees.

You just plop down into the bed, feeling tingles all over your body while you still try to overcome your high, remembering Seungmin’s initial words: the blindfold enhances your senses. 

When your fingers reach out for the satin fabric covering your eyes, you feel your boyfriend’s hands wrapping around your wrist. 

“We are not done just yet,” he whispers, leaving a kiss on your hand. “We all want to fuck your mouth while you are blindfolded until you can recognize each of us by how we taste”. 

As frustrating as it is, not being able to see them while you are pleasuring them, you really can’t say no to such a request.

You are sure it is going to be fun.

[queenscodex]

Taking care of you when you're sick

Charatcers: Heartslabyul; Riddle, Trey, Cater, Ace, Deuce

- Gender Neutral Reader

- Headcanons

- Warnings: Sickness

Hi so I'm sick, it's the reason I'm taking so long to get event requests out. But I couldn't sleep so I decided to write this in hopes it will remove all the sickness from my body. Not proofread, I wrote this half asleep

-

Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle can be very dependable on days when you're sick!

He knows a lot of methods to make you feel better- though, he can come off as brash and strict during these times but it's only because he wants you to make a swift recovery. And when he's clueless on what do, then he does some research himself

Although he isn't one to get sick often, he does know some good remedies to help soothe a scratchy throat, tummy pains, and anything that is causing you discomfort. He'll ask Trey to make you little treats among soups. However, he does keep an eye on your sugar intake but the soup is easy on the stomach.

Riddle makes sure you take your medicine at the correct times, even going as far writing it down on a little notepad as a reminder for himself. He also assures your getting the right of amount of sleep and properly taking care of yourself, shooing you off to bed when he catches you in the hallway

He prepares you a lot of tea, many depending on the situation; he knows a good tea to help you sleep if your sickness is causing you discomfort, and he also can brew up some ginger tea if you're feeling particularly nauseous.

Places a warm or cold cloth over forehead and changing it periodically when he checks your temperature from time to time

Riddle is patient with you when you're sick. He'll help you catch up on your studies once you're feeling better and will stick close if you don't want to be alone as you rest, even propping up a chair beside your bed as he recounts the history notes Trein left.

" You must take your medicine, my rose. It's vital for your recovery. Perhaps a pinch of sugar will make it more bearable?"

-

Trey Clover

Out of all the boys, Trey is the best at taking care of anyone who is ill. Like Cater, he was responsible for taking care if his siblings and his mother mode gets activated whenever a loved one gets sick

Getting sick in the first place is a challenge in itself. Trey always makes sure you dress appropriately for the weather, eat enough meals, and take care of other basic necessities. So getting sick was a surprise to him, but nonetheless he knows to handle it

Trey is patient with his partner, his movements are gentle and does everything with care in order to ensure a swift recovery.

He makes sure you take your daily medications and tries to make it more bearable by adding a pinch of sugar to conceal its nasty aftertaste- but not too much that the medicine loses effect entirely

Trey knows plenty of foods for someone who is sick. He prepares you good and healthy meals that are easy to stomach while also providing you nutrients and vitamins. He notes that you're getting your three meals a day while also having rest inbetween. He can be a bit strict with this, but he promises you to make as many tarts as you like once you've completely recovered from your sickness

He likes to give you massages as you eat, helping you relax as you down the food. Little praises are leaving his mouth with each bite you take, and once you're done, he tucks you to bed and places a cold rag to your forehead.

He will grab you anything you need, you will not be lifting a finger at all. Even if you insist you can do it yourself, Trey refuses. He's got everything; tissue boxes, little medicine candies, a weighted blanket, anything to make the whole process as easy as possible

" Lay down dear, right now you need to rest. I'll take care of everything else, call me if you need anything, alright?"

-

Cater Diamond

Cater was responsible for taking care of his sisters who commonly asked him for things while they were sick. He despised it, since they bossed him around and was often running around in order to get what they wanted. But this is his partner and he does not mind getting you what you need. He is quite dependable when his partner is sick as a result.

Cater is observant and attentive to your body language, if you exhibit any signs of discomfort, he is quick to soothe you to the best of his ability. He rubs comforting shapes in your back whenever you start to feel nauseous or gross, even pulling your hair back if it's long.

While out and about, he keeps some medicine on his person in case you need it.

Cater sends you a lot of videos and pictures while you're sick, often being silly little things that easily make you laugh followed by the text 'how are you feeling?'

While you're sick, his Magicame feed becomes filled with pictures of soups, tissues, and other things he gets you to help you recover. He the whole process with his fans, even picking up advice people leave among the comments

Not the best cook, but he will try to whip something up if you ask. Though it has an odd taste and some bits are overcooked, it's enough to soothe your stomach for a while. But a lot of the time he buys those pre-made things that you just have to heat up.

He props up a chair next to your bedside, keeping an eye on you and making sure you're getting rest while his fingers gently run through your hair in an attempt to relax you.

" You have nothing to worry about Y/n! Cay Cay will take care of you, I even made you some soup~ wait don't eat it yet! Let's take a picture for the recovery album 'kay?"

Ace Trappola

Surprisingly alright at taking care of his partner when their sick, minus a few moments of panic and slip ups

The first thing Ace does when he learns you're ill is making sure you're comfortable and getting you whatever you need. He has a glass of water on your bedside table if you feel dehydrated (which will be refilled every half hour) and some of your favorite treats when you get hungry.

He gets you a lot of soups that you can easily stomach and sticks to your favorites. He even is adamant on feeding you if you don't have the extra energy to pick up a spoon, though he's rather teasing about it- even if you fuss you can feed yourself, you will be met by hush on his part all while he tugs the spoon at your lips.

He is good at cheering you up. Ace dislikes seeing his partner under the weather. He'll crack jokes and act mischievous in order to make you laugh despite feeling all icky inside, it helps lighten the atmosphere. He may tune down the teasing for your sake, but he slips at some moments; mainly jokes about how you're going to get him sick.

Not the best at keeping track of your medicine, it tends to slip his mind at times as he is more focused on getting adequate rest.

Ace encourages you to get some fresh air from time to time. He takes your hand softly, guiding you to the nearby courtyard, his eyes attentive to any discomfort you may be feeling.

Even though he's not the one sick, he whines about how he is unable to kiss you, but he may end up giving you a few pecks which ultimately causes him to be sick and now both of you are bed-ridden together.

" Say ahh~ I heard from Trey that this soup helps calm the nerves and stomach. Hey, don't give me that look, let me feed you!"

-

Deuce Spade

Deuce knows how to take care of himself, but not so much when it comes to other people. He heavily relied on his mother whenever he got sick himself and picked up on her tactics when he got older. But when he got news that his partner was ill, he was clueless at what to do at first, unsure of how to apply that

He constantly asks you how you're feeling and if you want anything, whatever it was Deuce was set on retrieving it for you. Every five minutes you would see him pop his head around the corner, the same question falling from his lips every time.

Deuce tries to make you feel as comfortable as possible. He even offers to give you some massages to distract you from the discomfort being sick brings; although, he can be rough sometimes. But he does rub some very soothing shapes on your back if you're feeling nauseous and need to get it out of your system.

He takes extra notes for you if you can't make it to any classes because of your sickness, relaying the information to you later that day with some leftovers he saved for you at lunch.

He tries to get you everything you need. Tissues? He'll buy some! Can't stomach his leftover lunch? He'll try to make you a soup his mother made for him, although he may ask Trey to whip up something if he doesn't have the time. He always refills your glass of water, making sure you have something to drink.

In the end, Deuce ends up phoning his mother for advice and follows it thoroughly, making sure you're resting and taking your medicine at the appropriate times.

He's such a worry wart. It's reflected in his eyes as he encourages you to eat a little, his voice laced with concern as you weakly scoop up the goods with the spoon. Even when he's away, he can't help but think about your needs, hoping you're getting rest.

" Y/n, do you need anything? I'm about to run to the store to pick up some things to make you a soup- my mom said it helps a lot with stomach pains. Is there anything else you want me to pick up?"

-

[taechaos]

Silent Treatment

from Textbook Love drabble series

pairing: bully!Jungkook x nerdy!fem!Reader

genre: drabble, smut, college au

synopsis: Why did you reject him? He’s consumed by his thoughts and theories of your behavior because you didn’t say a single word to him. If your actions were anything to go by, which apparently speak louder than words, you didn’t even want him to touch you.

warnings: slight angst, drugs, arguing, dubcon, cunnilingus, mild degredation

word count: 4.2k

tags: @mwitsmejk @1-in-abillion @kooookie

a/n: the request (contains some spoilers). i'm gonna take a very short break from this couple to write other requests!! hope u enjoy 💗

The shift in the Spring weather is unpredictable. One moment it’s chilly, and the other sunny. Humans can only adapt so much, and it causes an outbreak of common colds. Most people recover easily, handy medicine soothing their sore throats, syrups suppressing coughs, and nose sprays ridding the blockage. You, on the other hand, are not that lucky. With a weak immune system, you’re very careful to not get sick, but there must have been a slip-up because you’ve somehow lost your voice after catching a cold.

You sniffle and cough, but you can’t speak. It’s advised to not exert your vocal cords in cases like these, and that is just so unfortunate for you. The last thing you’d ever want to do is spread your sickness to Jungkook, and that meant not getting too close to him; it meant no kissing. 

A very large white placard is spread out in front of you on the wooden table, and you’re plastering printed images of a specific global issue on it. You’re sitting on a bench with two of your friends as they chatter mindlessly while you work. Jungkook has a project about climate change due in a few days, and it’s supposed to be very important for his final grade. You’ve already written him a script for his presentation along with a stick prop to point at specific pictures. It’s fun, glittery and he’s going to love it. 

“Hey,” Minnie, your friend, calls for you, “we’re going to get some coffee from Starbucks. Want us to get you green tea?”

Soyeon laughs when your eyes light up; it’s your favorite beverage, and it’s supposed to help with your sore throat. They leave with a smile after you give them a hyper nod and you’re alone as you adjust your woolen scarf around your neck. You need to heal as fast as you can so you’re no longer missing your beloved’s affection.

Jungkook has been feeling more inclined to approach you without reason lately, but that doesn’t mean it’s a common occurrence. Getting teased by his friend, specifically Taehyung, about having a sissy crush on a girl like yourself angered him to no end. A hit always got him to shut up, but not for long. He’s walking your way today because there’s no one around to judge him for talking to you. 

You’re tearing a double-sided tape when he sits on your table, carefully avoiding your materials. Your breath hitches as his eyes gloss over your work in progress. “Working hard, I see,” he comments with disinterest. He doesn’t say anything about your efforts, but he’s impressed. The corner of his lip tugs upwards before he leans in for a kiss. You have enough self-control and concern for his well-being over your desires to lean back before your lips make contact. His face is close to yours as he pauses and slightly frowns before trying again. He receives the same results and finally pulls back. 

“You did well,” he frowns at you and speaks as if you’re a child, “I’m praising you.” Your eyes are darting back and forth awkwardly and you don’t know what to do other than sit in silence. You put your hands on his knees as a resort and his frown deepens as he watches you. “I can take a hint, you know. You don’t have to fucking ignore me.” He roughly shoves your hands and stands up before storming off with a scoff. You’re torn between following him and being responsible over your belongings. You can’t let his grades go to waste because of a small misunderstanding, so you decide to text him instead. There’s always a possibility someone might steal his project. Or maybe after he’s cooled off? You delay the message, but somewhere in your heart, you’re satisfied by his reaction because it’s clear that he wanted to kiss you.

Heavy footsteps clomp against the sidewalk before Jungkook slumps on the seat next to Taehyung. It’s an isolated area for smoking students at the back of the campus, and his friend group is no exception to this role. They’re taking drags of cigarettes individually as Jungkook glares at his boots. They’re chunky and a bold black, and his dark outfit paints him as the big bad wolf. It fits, because he’s ready to attack when he’s filled with so much resentment. Why did you reject him? He’s consumed by his thoughts and theories of your behavior because you didn’t say a single word to him. If your actions were anything to go by, which apparently speak louder than words, you didn’t even want him to touch you. It doesn’t make sense, but you also grimaced at him, but then why were you doing his homework? He’s feeling frustrated, and upset all the same.

“Someone’s troubled,” Seokjin points out with a mouthful of smoke. “Kookie?”

Said boy only grunts in response.

“Did the lousy girl finally see you for who you really are and leave you?” Taehyung doesn’t hesitate to mock him with a pout. “Tragic.”

“Shut the fuck up, Tae,” Jungkook spits and sends him a death glare, fire flaming in his fierce eyes. “Go actually talk to a girl or something, and leave me alone. I can’t take your shit right now.”

The low blow doesn’t affect Taehyung in the slightest as he holds up his hands in defence with comically wide eyes. “Relax, tiger.”

“Moving on from Tae’s inability to talk to girls in broad daylight, what’s up with you Kook?” Namjoon butts in, earning a fake cough from the receiving end of the insult.

He pauses for a moment before babbling, “I hate those bitches. My mother for one, couldn’t stand wearing clothes whenever she saw a dude. Moving on from guy to guy, unless they’re a fucking asshole. What do they want? Why are they never fucking satisfied?!”

A moment of silence passes among the huddled friends before Yoongi breaks it with a joke, “Who’s the lucky girl?” It doesn’t land as Jungkook deeply sighs in response. “Did she cheat on you?” he tries again.

“No,” he murmurs.

“Then…?”

“She… I don’t fucking know, she gave me the silent treatment. She leaned away from me too,” he shakes his head with a quiet groan, “it just doesn’t add up. I got mad and left.”

“No way that could’ve ended up badly,” Taehyung chuckles but purses his lips when he’s sent another dirty look.  “How long was the interaction anyway?” 

“Like 30 seconds.”

“Are you coming out tonight?” Yoongi asks and puts out the burning tip of his stick. “Could help you feel better.”

“And we’ve got molly,” Namjoon adds.

“Yeah, fine, whatever.”

Alcohol’s effect on a person differs in moods, and Jungkook is usually a horny drunk. Being a sad drunk is a first for him tonight, but he’s just so confused. It made his heart drop when you outwardly refused his advances and anxiety blossomed in his chest, which he has no idea how to deal with. It kicked in fight or flight instincts, and he just… hated the idea of you not loving him, even if it’s momentary. He can’t bear staying in a situation that makes him feel so insecure, and that feeling is supposed to be left in his childhood. You just about brought out the worst in him without doing anything. 

You didn’t do anything.

It’s 10PM and he’s waiting on your usual good night text that he never responds to. It’s so pathetic, and he hates himself for being so used to your affection that it worries him when he’s deprived of it. He’s never doubted your love for him, but his insecurities are churning his gut. It’s an overflow of all of his pent-up emotions, and he can’t handle it.

“Here,” Taehyung pops in out of nowhere, clutching a pill in his hand. There’s a bottle of water in the other as he holds them out for Jungkook to take. “Stop moping and get laid.”

“I’d say the same to you, but you’d probably start crying during sex,” he mumbles and uncaps the bottle before throwing in the pill and washing it down with the water. “Thanks.”

“See that girl over there?” he ignores him and steps behind his miserable friend to point at the owner of the sultry gaze directed at Jungkook from the bar. “She wants to fuck you. Or maybe me, but I’m passing her onto you.”

“How kind of you,” he sarcastically replies.

“Uh-uh, so you’re gonna be in ecstasy in about 10 minutes. Don’t fuck this up.” He slaps his shoulder before disappearing into the kitchen. It’s a lonesome party because not a lot of people are allowed in when drugs are involved. Causing a ruckus, receiving a noise complaint and then getting arrested is out of the question. 

He isn’t interested in sex with a stranger - not today at least -, but he hopes for it to change as he waits to approach her. Maybe drugs will rile him up enough to have fun with someone else and rid his mind of you. It’s an annoying itch on his brain, so he rests his head against the couch to comfort himself with the soft fabric. He’s sleepy from the beer he drank earlier, and he doesn’t know how time goes by so fast when he closes his eyes.

A few minutes must have passed, because he’s starting to feel dizzy in his seat. A smile carves on his face as his mind grows slightly fogged, and he opens his eyes to find the girl quietly chatting with a friend. When she glances at him, he beckons her to come over. She mouths a “be right back” to her friend before strutting in his direction.

“Hey,” she smiles down at him before sitting on the couch. She’s aristocratic, chic and pretty. “Sorry if I weirded you out earlier.” Her voice is sweet like honey, and her words flow out of her tongue so naturally. A dream girl, really, and Jungkook is starting to get horny.

“I don’t mind,” he reassures with a subtle seductive tone, “what’s a girl like you doing with this crowd? You look too innocent.” He wraps a finger around a strand of her hair and twirls it. It feels strange.

“My friend sent me here, told me to watch over someone,” she lowly speaks. “I’m Soyeon.”

“Nice to meet you, Soyeon,” he breathes before crashing her lips with his. His hand reaches down to grip her thigh, tongue poking out to swipe the sticky gloss. It’s flavored, and it tastes of strawberry. When she kisses him back so slowly, innocently, it turns him on so much. His pants feel tight around his crotch as he runs another hand through her soft hair. Compared to him, she’s passionate whereas he’s sloppy. He’s starting to get dizzier, and it feels so fucking good, but he hates it.

There is not a single reason for him to not enjoy this, not when his mood is lifting so high. The hand on her thigh lands on her cleavage instead and she’s so submissive and shy, but something’s off. He groans into her mouth before biting her lip, ripping a whine out of her. Why does she sound so sexy and annoying?  

He pulls away from her before sighing in irritation. “Fuck, I can’t do this.” 

“Did I do something wrong?” she asks worriedly.

“No, just, fuck.” He starts laughing before rubbing his palms on his eyes, “I really want to fuck, but I just can’t.”

“We can just chat,” she softly suggests. “What’s your name?”

“Jungkook.”

He removes his hands from his face when she goes silent. Her eyes are wide and she’s gaping at him… guiltily? “Crap,” she hisses quietly, “I was supposed to make sure you were okay. My roommate is like, super in love with you and asked me to come here.”

He says your name in a question, wondering if it’s you. When she nods, he asks for your dorm instantly.

“She’s in room 124… Why?”

When he stands up, there’s a sway in his posture but he recovers quickly. There’s an involuntary grin on his face as he thanks her ignorantly. He’s out of the villa in a rush, and he has the overwhelming urge to just run. The campus is a bit far away from the house, but he doesn’t care as his footfalls echo in the dark streets. He has so much energy to waste, and with his current stamina, he’s confident he’ll find you before dawn. It’s stupid but it’s fun, and he doesn’t care for catching his breath as the corner stores pass by him in a blur. 

Throughout the two hours of his reckless jog, where he mixed up directions multiple times, his mind is starting to clear up little by little. He’s happy because of what Soyeon told him, and he feels relieved upon seeing the familiar college building. He’s not allowed in dorms at this time, but he’s done this too many times to get caught. Except he was drunk in those instances, and being on MDMA was different. Sneaking past security was tough because he couldn’t bring himself to tiptoe without making so much noise. When they glanced at him, he thought it to be the only choice to just run past them. He’s in the elevator by the time they catch on, and the numbers look wonky in his eyes but he presses the button for the right floor. 

He’s shifting his weight repeatedly in an attempt to contain his excitement; he wants to see you so bad. The moment he hears the ding of the elevator, he’s running past the halls and stops upon seeing 124. He has to squint, but he knows this is your dorm. 

You wake up with a silent gasp when there’s a pound on the door. You clutch your sheets in fear until someone starts to sing your name. “Jungkook?” you mouth to yourself. You stand up and look through the peephole and there’s a man on the other side who’s bouncing on his feet impatiently.

“Open up,” he sings loudly. You’re worried when you swing the door open and yank him inside so he doesn’t wake up any other students. You try to talk but only a wheeze comes out, so you switch on the light to see him instead. The brightness hurts your eyes as you close them for a few seconds. “Well, well, well, look who we have here…”

He starts to circle around you slowly and stumbles behind you. “Sending people to spy on me after rejecting me like that.” His words are slightly slurred and you turn around to face him with a pout. You point at your throat to give him a hint, but his eyes don’t waver from your pleading ones. “What are your intentions, huh?” he weakly pushes you, “Sending me mixed signals. Who- who do you think you are?”

You hold his hands and place them on your neck, trying to communicate with him by mouthing, “I’m sick,” but he only chuckles. He seems sickeningly joyous, but he’s not over his anger. “Still not going to talk to me? What did I even do?”

You deeply inhale from your nose because he’s not paying attention to you. You’re frustrated with yourself until he yells, “WHY WON’T YOU TALK TO ME?” The surge of serotonin, his state of euphoria is crashing down on him the more you ignore him. He had believed the drug would only make him happy, but it intensified his sadness and anxiety just as much when he saw you. It helped him forget you in a social circle, but you confused him so much after he was reassured for so long - coupled with your silence, he’s raging.

“Why are you ignoring me?! What did I do that was so bad that you can’t bear talking to me anymore? You told me you loved me, please,” he chokes and tries to swallow the lump in his throat. “I-I’ll make it up to you, I’m so sad right now. Just say something…”

You’re watching him in shock and a hint of fear from his fluctuating mood. You want to cry at how pitiful he looks, but instead you aim to grab a piece of paper from your bedside table. He misreads your actions and pushes you against the wall. “Stop this. Stop!” He has your arms pinned and he’s trying so hard to intimidate you so you give in. A dry sob leaves you because he's going mad, but then he has a sudden epiphany. “Maybe you’ll love me again if I fuck you hard enough and engrave it in your brain that you’re mine. Yes, yes!”

He starts unbuckling his belt and you immediately try to stop him; he’ll get sick! He shoves you again and pulls down his jeans before mashing his mouth against yours. All of your efforts have gone to waste when his tongue forces its way down your throat. There’s no point to denying him now, so you hesitantly kiss him back. You’re so guilty, and he’s so careless as he roughly pushes his hand down your white cotton shorts. You’re wearing a navy blue sweater to match so you don’t get cold in the night, but the shorts are meant to prevent a fever. What’s the point now, then? He hasn’t even read your texts that you only remembered to send before sleeping. He missed a whole paragraph of your explanation and confronted you so angrily.

“I’m going to fuck you all night,” he growls against your lips, “then you’ll remember how much you love me.” Your moans are quiet and hitched as he presses down on your clit through your panties. His other hand is on his cock as he strokes it eagerly, ready to get inside you. “I missed you so fucking much in one day,” he whispers in a croak. Hearing it makes you feel even warmer inside as you nudge his hand to urge him to enter you. “You missed me too, huh?” he takes notice of your neediness. “Shouldn’t have fucking brought it upon yourself then.”

He removes his hand from your shorts and taps your thighs before demanding, “Jump.” You bite your lip in consideration until he taps them harder and you quickly wrap your legs around his waist. Your shorts are relatively short, resembling loose boxers, so when your back is pressed against the wall he only pushes them and your underwear to the side before thrusting into you. A scream gets caught in your throat, and you forget all about your aches as he roughly fucks into you without caring for protection or lube. It stings only slightly, but the pleasure in feeling so full of him outweighs the pain.

Jungkook is moaning and groaning as he bruises your thighs in his hold. Your panting is all he can catch, and though the feeling of you is an amplified sensation because of the drug coursing in his system, he wants to hear you chant his name as well. “Still quiet?” he tuts and carries you to your narrow bed and you cling onto his shoulder while trying to catch your breath after the sudden attack. “Your cunt is throbbing though,” he says as he pulls out of you and drops you on the bed. He manhandles you by flipping you on your stomach and holds up your ass. He finally takes off your bottom clothing, but he’s slightly dizzy as he yanks them off your ankles. He spreads your thighs apart and you’re on your knees with your head against the mattress. “I wonder why that is,” he says before slapping your pussy, making you whimper quietly. “So wet, yet you don’t even make a sound. Some whore you are.” You purse your lips and muster a whine, but it’s interrupted when he pistons his cock inside you without warning. Your sounds are hoarse as he pounds into you from the back, hands kneading your ass to the shape of his hands. He gives it a spank as he moans loudly; the new position makes it feel so much more intense, and Jungkook loves it. His ears finally get to hear your pathetic mewls as he thrusts so deeply inside you that your vision blurs with tears and your eyes roll to the back of your skull. You feel like a doll that can’t speak or move, and he’s evidently enjoying it going by his rushed pace. You’re challenging him with your silence, and he loves proving himself.

All of a sudden however, he stops moving. You look behind you with a pout and he quirks a brow at you. You grit your teeth because you know he's waiting for you to tell him to continue, or rather daring you to do something. A sudden surge of confidence overcomes you and you gently slam your hips against his, fucking yourself on his cock with your eyes screwed shut.

“Yes, baby,” he strains, “show me that you're still my good girl.” At his encouragement, you meet his thrusts faster and you're seeing stars at how amazing it feels. You want to be his good girl so bad, and you arch your back to savour the pleasure. “Your pussy is mine, all mine,” he affirms to himself and stills your hips to turn you around without removing his length. His fingers are digging into your flesh and your tits bounce under the fabric as he rams into you restlessly. Your mouth is open in a silent scream and he can barely make out your pupils, the whites of your eyes stirring his climax at how attractive you look under the poor lighting. “I love you so fucking much,” he cries, “say it back, baby.”

You try to, but you can only dryly cough. “You fucking bitch,” he hisses at your defiance and pulls out of you to pump his length. He’s close to his release, and he pushes up your sweater to see your hard nipples that make him salivate. He crawls to slide his cock between the valley of your breasts and it hurts when he harshly pushes them together. “Stick out your tongue,” he commands in a whisper, and you do so while panting like a dog. Every time he thrusts upwards, the tip of his head grazes your tongue and leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. He’s massaging your tits as he stutters between whines, and eventually his load spurts out to land on your chest and cheek with a particularly loud groan. His cum surges down his shaft as he rides out his high with the last slow thrusts. 

“Oh fuck,” he sighs airily and collapses next to you in the tiny space available. You clumsily turn on your side to give him more room and he pecks your swollen lips. He zips his pants back up and you’re still naked from the waist down. You’re staring at each other adoringly in the romantic, fragile atmosphere; another first.

“I love you,” you croak finally. It’s quieter than a whisper, and it makes you cringe at how hideous you sound; it’s painful as well.

His face lights up once he registers your words before noticing the tone. “What happened to your voice?”

“Sick.” You can’t bring yourself to say anything more as you snuggle into his side and he instinctively wraps an arm around your shoulders.

“Shit,” he murmurs, “why didn’t you tell me that sooner, idiot?”

You slap a hand on his front pocket where his phone is, and he hastily takes it out to see a bunch of notifications from you. “You sent it at night, you’re still the idiot.” You giggle and roll your eyes. “A promise is a promise, though,” he purrs before cupping your bare heat. “I did say I would fuck you all night.” You widen your eyes when his head lowers down to face your sopping wet cunt, and he slowly licks up a stripe over your soaked folds, making you shudder and grip his hair. He’s leaving kitty licks all over your sensitivity, the tip of his tongue lightly brushing against your clit every now and then. Your hips lift involuntarily, and he finally takes your clit in his mouth and sucks on it loudly. He slurps your arousal before spitting it back on your hood, and you can only squeak in response. Your hazed mind only tells you that you want more, and he doesn’t fail to provide.

Two fingers enter your clenching hole, and he’s scissoring your walls as he messily eats you out. The pleasure from earlier returns all too soon and you know you won’t be able to last long. His lids are hooded when you glance down at him and the way he’s looking at you makes it even harder to resist your orgasm. The knot in your stomach picks back up right before unraveling and your moan is raspy as you start twitching under his relentless mouth. He grows gentle and leaves kisses all over your vulva until your body falls limp on the sheets.

After another round of penetrative sex, the two of you fall asleep from exhaustion in your bed. It’s a first for the both of you, and Jungkook decides in his drunken mind that tonight won’t be the last. It feels so intimate when he cuddles you, and you won’t ever forget his love confession.

The next morning is not so pleasant however, as Jungkook wakes up with a loud sneeze and in his now nasal voice says, “God fucking damn it.”

[whereistheonepiece]

Never Been Sick Before, Curly?

Sanji knew it normally takes a lot to take down Roronoa Zoro. A legendary swordsman, a so-called god, and a Warlord were among the few men in recent memory who were capable of doing so. Sanji had seen Zoro survive otherwise fatal wounds and seen him get back up to fight another day, had seem him push himself mercilessly in his own training sessions, because Roronoa Zoro did not stay down until his body gave him no other choice.

And yet now Zoro was curled up in his bunk under a mound of blankets, his face the only visible part of his body, grumbling about how miserable he felt.

Sanji couldn't help but to smirk. It was cute really, to see his brave, strong Swordsman like this. Who knew the Marimo could be such a baby about a little cold?

Zoro noticed the smug look Sanji was wearing. He scowled. "Never been sick before, Curly?" Zoro growled, glaring at him from his pile of blankets.

"No," Sanji said, stepping closer with the bowl of soup he'd made for Zoro. "Can't say that I have."

Zoro grunted, curling up in his pile of blankets, pointedly looking away from Sanji. "Then how 'bout you wipe that stupid look off your face?" he said.

Sanji studied the mass of blankets that was his boyfriend. Zoro must actually be feeling like shit if he wasn't threatening to get up and remove Sanji's smirk for him.

Sanji exhaled softly. He pulled up a chair at the foot of Zoro's bunk. "Soup?" he finally said.

"Not hungry."

"C'mon, Marimo," Sanji said. "It'll make you feel better."

"How'd you know?" Zoro said. "You've never been sick before."

Sanji rolled his eyes. Zoro may not be operating at his usual 110 percent, but he was still well enough to be an ass. Once the struggle and the insults stopped, that's when Sanji knew he had to get Chopper.

"Zoro," he said, "I'm the ship's cook. I'm supposed to know these things."

Zoro grumbled, slowly coming up into a sitting position. He squinted at Sanji, considering the bowl of soup on the tray on Sanji's lap. He grunted, jutting his chin at Sanji in typical Zoro fashion to beckon him closer.

A small smile on his face, Sanji stood up and brought the tray over to Zoro. He unfolded the legs of the tray and propped it up above Zoro's lap. He then knelt down next to Zoro's bunk, lying his cheek against his arms as he watched Zoro eat.

Zoro brought the first spoonful to his mouth, cautiously testing the temperature. Satisfied, he swallowed and went for another, then another. Sanji watched Zoro, warmth settling in him as Zoro dragged his spoon through the broth, scraping it against the bowl.

"Soup's good," Zoro said, doling out one of his rare compliments. Sanji knew Zoro liked his food, and he certainly didn't do it for the praise, but Sanji felt himself beaming all the same. And perhaps Zoro had noticed the way Sanji had perked up when Zoro had first verbally complimented Sanji's cooking.

The crew had stopped at a quiet island. With everyone breaking off into groups and in charge of their own dinners, Sanji felt himself vibrate with excitement as he packed a basket for a nighttime picnic, wanting a private romantic dinner with Zoro. It had been early in their relationship, and Sanji felt that the casual nature of a picnic juxtaposed with the romance of eating under the stars struck just the right balance.

It had been a casual comment, much like how Zoro had complimented the soup: "Food's good." And Sanji, sitting on their blanket spread out on the sand, felt a swelling in his chest to hear Zoro verbally praise his cooking.

And maybe Zoro had noticed. And maybe that was why he praised Sanji's cooking every so often. Mostly he did it when they enjoyed their private meals; sometimes he said it at the end of the meal as everyone was getting up to leave. Every time he did, Sanji felt himself swelling with pride.

Stirring his soup, Zoro happened to glance at Sanji. A corner of his mouth quirked. He moved his spoon to his other hand so he could reach out with the hand closest to Sanji.

Inhaling slowly, Sanji took Zoro's hand in his. He brought it to his mouth, pressing a kiss into the back of Zoro's hand. "Feeling a little better?" he asked, his voice soft.

"Yeah," Zoro said. He stared down at his bowl, giving Sanji's hand a small squeeze.

Sanji chuckled. "Told ya, Marimo."

Zoro glanced down at Sanji, snorting. "Whatever. Dumbass."

Sanji laughed, continuing to stare up at Zoro, the room silent except for the sounds of metal scraping against ceramic.

[soliavenne]

Gaara reacting to his S/O wearing a lingerie

- Genre: Horny-ish Gaara hours. You're probably just visiting your friend in horny jail with this one. 😝

- Word count:

- Format: Bulleted headcanons

Ah, it's been awhile! I suddenly got into the mood to write something and among the asks I have in my inbox, @rollercoasterofdicks and @anniarchy 's asks regarding lingerie are the first ones I was in the mood to write about. (:

I hope you enjoy!

Warning: R-18+ content below the cut!

---

• Gaara honestly doesn't impose a lot of expectations from you as his significant other, sexy-times wise. His mind is too pre-occupied with a lot of office-work related stuff that the man is just finally happy and content to get away from all of it as he comes home to a house that isn't cold and empty. To have a safe, welcoming space with home-cooked meals and a warm bed to rest on had already moved past his expectations to begin with.

• You could be wearing anything, and he'd still be down for it as long as both of you are in the mood. The visual appeal of his beloved's body might always be a treat, but to Gaara, it's the comforting warmth and the familiar scent of your skin that he finds really enticing. You two could just be cuddling innocently- exhausted giggles and whispered rants, the vibration of your back as you laugh against his chest while he's hugging you from behind... then he pulls you closer towards him, a soft purr of his husky voice as he asks you gently if the two of you could do it.

• "I want you..."

• Settling it once and for all in this house, no amount of ugly-patterned matching pajamas could ever stop Gaara from being in the mood to make love to his significant other. You think the fabric you are wearing at such moment would faze this man if he is horny? Not at all!

• But, that doesn't mean he is not open to such surprises involving a sexy lingerie. You just gotta' plant the idea of it bit by bit into his mind so he at least forms the outline of such racy thoughts. I guess you could say he does have a thing for a buildup of some sort, a stimulating thought process that will leave him in anticipation for the climax of your agenda.

• Why not start with a sneaky slip dress that'll make Gaara feel a little guilty for having his thoughts cross the horny boundary?

• You haven't worn such thing before, and he's not outwardly denying the brewing curiosity. Your chosen garment was at the perfect spot where you have him tiptoeing regarding two thoughts- are you simply just trying a fresh pace for sleeping clothes? Or are you implying something?

• Who was he kidding? Obviously this is not for him. This was nothing but an appropriate sleeping garment. Not everything is about him! Just because he's your husband, doesn't mean he get to spoil himself with such ideas. Right?

• Right?

• Gaara's denial would waver as you tease him innocently by pressing your backside against his crotch while the two of you are spooning together for the night.

• The man is honestly overthinking it too much to even get the clear signal in your first try, but he's trying his best.

• If only he could've have the guts to press his hard-on against your tailbone as he traces your exposed thigh with the palm of his hand...

• It wasn't a failed mission though, because you have just started some very flustering imageries in his thoughts starting from that night on, and it's only bound to get better.

• You'd find yourself wondering what type of lingerie is he into, and you've been tempted more than once to flat out ask him about it. Not wanting to ruin the slow-burn of a surprise that you knew he was aware of but just chooses to deny it, you swallowed back your inquiries.

• You did notice that his gaze was already unsteady in that small stunt you pulled with that pale grey slip the other night, so maybe start with something with softer appeal? Something just appropriately playful and teasing?

• This was a ploy to bring Gaara down to his knees, but you couldn't deny that you were enjoying it as much personally. The confidence it brings as you admire yourself in the mirror was already satisfying to begin with, but to Gaara's reaction just swells up your the pride down to the very brim.

• Pale pink, soft beige, good old neutral colors of white, grey and brown where you can't go wrong. Maybe a burnt sienna to hit the perfect spot? Laces, intricate patterns, garter belts. There was a lot to choose from that you'd find yourself having fun in shopping for the next item to torture him with.

• Torture? Why so?

• Because you softly deny his advances.

• "Ahh... I'm kind of tired, Gaara."

• How unfair could you more be?

• You literally just fucking moaned your denial while your supple thighs being snugly hugged by a sheer stockings rubbed against the crotch of his pajamas.

• You're beyond cruel, really.

• But Gaara is a good sport, and by now, he was more than willing to edge himself for you.

• Do the final show on the weekend, please. That's the tiniest hint of demand from Gaara's behalf. If you were finally going to pull him by the collar of his blouse and bring an end to this week-long tease of yours that has been causing some distractions in his work recently, you have to at least let him savor it.

• If you debut the climax with an intricate piece of a lingerie in his favorite color, he will be at your mercy.

• Gaara is a body-worshipper by default, so if you chose to wear a lingerie to increase his already innate desire to adore and praise every inch of your body, he's more than eager to deliver.

• The lingerie stays on during foreplay. Yes, the straps of your bra would be loosened and fall down the curve of your shoulders- maybe he'd sway the pads to the side a little so he could play and suckle on the hardening nub beneath it, but you will stay partially clothed. He was going to make sure that every cent of money you have poured into such a beautifully-hugging, intimate piece of clothing would be worth it. Gaara is going to admire you in it as long as possible.

• Oh? The lingerie is a little constricting? You want to spread your legs a little wider? Maybe you'd like it he fondled your actual mounds rather than having it be massaged under the pads of your bras?

• "...But you look so beautiful in your lingerie, my love."

• Yeah, needless to say this man is taking his chance right now to bite back. With the faked tone of sympathy that you just realized as you the corner of his lips almost formed a soft smirk, you knew that what he meant to say was...

• "The lingerie stays on and you're going to take everything I'm going to do just like that."

• Sadly, though... he's going to have to remove your underwear.

• Sadly though for him. You on the other hand...

• Well, if you're kind enough to pair it up next time with crotchless panties, Gaara would simply just lose his fucking mind.

• Maybe that's what you wanted in the first place though?

• Now, now. Quit spacing out and thinking about the next opportunity of messing him up.

• Should you be really worrying about such right now when you already came so much and he still hasn't even removed his own clothes yet?

---

[animesmutfest]

Satoru x Kakashi x reader

Firstly i just want to thank you all for your support, I genuinely had no idea this would blow up and was just posting the stories to post them but i am so grateful to have you guys as an audience. This smut was harder to make but with some inspiration from my husband and some manga, i think it'll turn out pretty spicy. So without anymore delays welcome to my 100k smut special. Hope you all enjoy but be nice lol it's the first threesome I've written about

You stared at the calendar longer than needed, you knew your eyes were correct. Today was a very special day for more than one reason and you could barely contain your happiness. Not only is it your birthday but it's the day that they come home. They both parted ways about two months ago for work and were able to get some time with you for a while starting today. You missed them so much it hurt, their touch, their voices, their kisses, just everything. You craved them more than anything in this world. Peeling your eyes from the calendar you head out to the store and picked up wine and ingredients for dinner. On your way home you stopped by a friends house to let them know you would not be available for a while and without pressing you for details she understood that you'd be tied up... hopefully literally. Once your home your phone rings and its Satoru. "Hey baby" you answer excited. "Hey princess~ i just wanted to let you know I'm waiting for Kakashi now and then we will be on our way. I'm thinking maybe 3 hours" he says in a very giddy voice. "Okay love i cant wait to see you two, get here safely" you reply. "yes maaam~" he says before hanging up.

You spent the time doing your hair, makeup and making dinner just how the likes it. They should be home within the hour and you have never been more ready to throw yourself on someone so badly. Meanwhile in the car with your loves. "You think she'd like these or these?" Kakashi asks Satoru holding up two bouquets of roses, one red and the other pink. "I'd say red considering the occasion" he reply's smirking. "Buuuuut lets just get both to be safe" he adds. "Good thinking" they go to check out and talk on the way to the house to catch up on lost time before the needed to talk about the facts. "You know this is he first time right?" Satoru asks staring out the car window into the sky through his shades. "What do you mean?" Kakashi asks. "She's never had both of us at once" he says smirking. A light blush appears on Kakashis face under his mask as he realizes he's right. They had always had alternate schedules so they each had their time with her but this is a first. To be home at the same time after being away for so long. How exciting. "We have to be extra careful with her tonight. And the next day, and maybe the next day~" Satoru says biting his lip a bit. "Understood, I'm sure we know how to make this experience as perfect as can be for our queen" Kakashi says smiling through his mask. They spent the rest of the car ride planning out everything as best as they could.

You hear them pull into the driveway and your heart begins to race as your legs moved on their own towards the door. You swing the door open before either of them could touch it and pulled them both into a deep hug. "We missed you too baby" they say to you. Satoru leans down and kisses you tenderly before Kaakshi follows right after caressing your soft skin. "Happy birthday love" Kakashi adds and they both extend their arms giving you the roses. "Their beautiful... thank you so much" you say smelling them while they fully enter the house and lock the door. "Oooh~ something smells good" Satoru coos as he walks to the dinning room. "Oh right! I made you guys dinner. Its been a while since I've been able to cook for either of you." You say as you set the flowers in a large vase before preparing to set the table. "I definitely miss your cooking... among other things" Kakashi says as he walks to the room with his bags. You blush and quickly turn around so they cant see your face. "Go get cleaned up, ill get the table set" you say. Both smiling they do as you requested. By the time you had pour their drinks they were walking towards the table. Both wearing lose sweats and t shirts as they sit down. You couldn't help but look down as they walked and you gulped at the sight. We all know about the prints and they were no exception. The guys give each other a looked in acknowledgment of your eyes wandering and shared a chuckle. You sat at the table  and talked with them as they ate their dinner. "Anything you wanna do after we're done?" kakashi asks. "I'm just going with the flow today, i really don't have anything planned in particular" you say taking a sip of your wine. When you look up you see both of them staring at you smiling. It was so terrifying yet you found yourself pressing your legs together. "Are you down for anything?" Satoru asks leaning back in his chair. You slowly nod looking down at your glass when you hear their chairs move at the same time. Your head shoots up to see them walking towards you. "W-what's going on?" You ask nervously. "Do you trust us?" Satoru asks. "With my life" you reply. Before you could ask more questions Kakashi throws you over his should and walks to "The Room" this rooms layout consisted of a large comfy couch, projector screen and a Alaskan king size bed built into the floor. He puts you down once inside and immediately grabs your neck pulling you into a heated kiss. Satoru walking over to the closet and grabbing the black box. While you were preoccupied he takes out your blindfold and covers your eyes. "You remember your safe word right baby?" Satoru asks as he rips open your shirt and bra. "Mmph y-yes" you reply only to receive a harsh slap on your ass from Kakashi. "Yes what?" He asks in a low voice. "Y-yes daddy" you correct yourself. "Good girl" he praises before turning you around to face Satoru and kissing your neck softly. Satoru begins to slowly take off your pants, tossing them aside once completely off. Your breathing become heavy as you feels their hands roam all over your body. Satoru runs his hands up along your waist until they reach your breasts. Without hesitation he takes one into his mouth, gently sucking on it as you run your finger through his soft hair.

You felt Satoru smirk against your skin as he nips on your nipple and pinch the other. You lean your head back on Kakashis shoulder while he leaves deep and dark marks all over your neck. "Are you going to be a good girl for us tonight?" Satoru asks after popping your nipple out his mouth. "Yes daddy" you say feeling his gorgeous eyes stare into you. He lightly chuckles before getting on his knees again and throwing your leg over his shoulder. You jump a bit as you feel his fingers rub your pussy slowly. "mm your soaking wet down here love~" he says before sliding a finger inside you. You let out a soft moan as your body tenses us and Kakashis hands move to your breasts squeezing them. "Oh yeah? What has you so worked up baby girl?" Kakashi says as he licks your ear. "It's because -fuck- because you both of you a-are touching me like this" you sigh with a light moan. "You mean like this?" Kakashi coos as his right hand wraps around your neck and he presses his dick against your back. "And like this?~" Satoru adds as he slips in another finger curling them inside you perfectly. You let a loud moan and your body trembled a bit. "P-please... I need more... please." Satoru slipping out his fingers and going to the bed laying down on it. Kakashi knew what to do, he guides you there as well before placing you in a 69 position on top of satoru on your hands and knees. He places himself in front of you before pulling down his sweats and pumping himself slowly right in front of your covered eyes. As satoru locks your hips with his arms he starts with soft flicks of tongue on your sensitive clit. Your hands grab the blanket as you begin to moan and your legs shake lightly. "Open your mouth sweetheart" you hear in front of you and without a second thought you comply. Sticking out your tongue letting saliva drip from the tip of it. Kakashi takes his time as he circles his tip on the bed of your tongue before sliding it deep inside your throat. Letting out a deep grunt once he bottoms out feeling your throat squeezing him just right. As he pulls himself back he grabs a handful of your hair for better support. Satoru dug his hands into your hips as he sucks on your clit, swirling his tongue just right. You moan into Kakashis dick as he fucks your face slowly but deep sending vibrations from him. "Good fucking girl... sss fuck- stick out your tongue more. Fuck yes just like that." He groans going harder with each thrust. Satoru made sure to make an absolutely mess of you as you grind softly on his face.

Satoru smirks against your skin as he quickens his pace knowing you were so close to cumming. Kakashi pulls from your throat as you gasp for air and pant from the tightening coil inside you. "Fuck I'm gunna cum~ feels so good daddy!" You whine as you grip kakashis shirt with one hand. Reaching down he plays with your curls as he watches you fall apart on satorus tongue. "Ahhuh god! Fuck! I-I'm mmmph! C-cu-" you couldn't get the rest out as you gush on his mouth twitching and trying to pull yourself from him as he cleans his plate. Once he's had his fill he releases his grip on you and licks his lips. "Delicious as always gorgeous" he says kissing your thighs. You can't see them but you hear them taking off their clothes and moving around the bed. You then feel one of them snatch your hands and put them behind your back while the other ties your hands together. You smirk a bit as you were getting more excited by the second. Feeling the bed dip down you feel satorus hands help you on top of him. And then you feel Kakashi right behind you holding your bound arms. You feel something wet and cold rubbing against your ass before it slowly sunk into you. You whimper at the unfamiliar feeling but just as you were getting use to the feeling of being teased from behind you feel a strong vibration against your clit. Hanging your head down you felt the vibrator going in circles on your pussy and what you come to realize a thick plug being pumped in and out of your ass. "Feeling good princess?" Kakashi asks with a chuckle as he admires your voice as it echos in the room. You were drunk on the pleasure and they haven't enough done much just yet. You called for them over and over again and before you knew it you were cumming again. "That's it baby. We just wanna make you feel good" satoru says as he slow down the circles before turning off the vibrator and slowly sinking you down on his thick dick. You cry out from the stretch but immediately felt so fucking full. Full of him and the pleasure he brought to you. As he bucks his hips into your clenching pussy Kakashi removes the plug and rubs his dick on your ass. "We need you to cum again princess. Can you do that for us?" Kakashi asks as he grips your arms and bites on your shoulder a bit. Satoru slowed his thrusting to let you answer but all you did was nod frantically. He looks down at satoru and with a smirk he begins circling the vibrator over your clit again with satoru still giving you deep and slow thrusts. "Close already? That was fast~" he mocks you as you clench around him. Kakashi pulls your body back and turns your head to him as he kisses you again. Your moans muffled with his mouth but your body jerks forward as you cum again. Tears stream down your face,  you couldn't speak just react. satoru stop thrusting and pulls you into a heated kiss sliding his tongue in your mouth and making sure you knew who was in charge right now. Your breathing was still all over the place but you didn't have time to get it together when you felt Kakashis dick press into your tight ass. Your nails dig into your palms as he pushes himself half way in. Satoru grunting from the pressure and you wilding moaning between them. Both of them rubbing your body as they comfort you through the stretch. "Your taking us so well baby. Just a little more and I promise it'll feel good" Kakashi says. "I-I already f-feel good..~ haaa fuck" you cry out. Not men blushing hard before Kakashi slams the rest inside you cause you to scream out. "I'm sorry love but I can't hold back anymore" he moans as he slowly begins fucking your ass. Squelching sounds and moans filling the room you all slowly lose your minds with one another. Satoru no longer being able to sit still begins thrusting upward into you again much harder than before. One one entered you the other would pull back a bit. "Ahaaah shit!! Fuck fuck! T-too much!" You breathlessly moan. Kakashi removes your blindfold and hands. You kindly reach behind you pushing him back a bit as he speeds up while your other hand rests on Satorus chest.

So many hands digging into your flesh that you don't know who is grabbing where anymore. And in a split second you blink and real size they have stood up sandwiching you between them with their arms holding you perfectly still. You wrap one of your arms around Satorus neck and then reaching over your shoulder you grab Kakashis. Their groan and labored breathing pushing you closer to your release yet again. You were begging them to make a mess of your insides, to break you or breed you. Whatever came first you wanted it and you wanted it so badly. "Mph gunna cum gunna cum again! Ugh right there! Please don't stop!~" their faces closed in on you as they fucked you in sync with one another. "Come on then birthday girl" one of them coos. "Make as much of a mess as you want" the other chimes in. Your grip on them tightens on both of them. Soon there you were again, but this time you couldn't hold back. Your body refused to hide the fact that you were receiving the ultimate amount of pleasure and as you yell into the air and come undone you find yourself squirting and violently shaking. "God your so sexy" Satoru says as he slams into you as hard as he can cumming deep within you, your nails scratching him harshly and Kakashi following right behind him. "Fuck I'm cumming baby!" He grunts as he too fills you up a strained whimper escapes you. Your eyes glazed with lust as you stare up at the ceiling feeling their cum drip from your aching holes. Best birthday ever.

[inglourious-imagines]

The Story of Their Lives (Lt. Aldo Raine)

Requested by: @tealaquinn

Summary: The story of Lt. Aldo Raine and Sgt. Y/N Y/L/N.

Prompts: 9 - Don't you touch her. & 12 - No one would hurt you again, or I'd kill them. & 21 - I wanna see how you lose control. & 24 - He's a badass with a good heart. & 39 - Kiss me. & 93 - You make me feel... you make me feel.

Author's Note: This is damn long so I really hope you like it! Also there are some parts in Italian so I'd like you to know, I've never learnt this language so there might be some mistakes. Feel free to send request or let me know if you wanna be tagged in these ♡

Taglist: @alienoresimagines @radiantcade @meteora-fc @kyra3155 @real-fans @not-john-watsons-blog @im-in-love-with-queen

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.

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Y/N and Aldo never showed some kind of an affection towards each other. They respected, trusted, appreciated the other one but these traits were common among the Basterds.

It seemed so innocent at first, almost like a teasing and none of the Jewish American soldiers expected to become it something more.

•••

They met at the very beginning of the Basterd's missions. Y/N was a french spy, a very famous one so she obviously got their attention since they'd gotten to France.

The Basterds recruited her in a bar and she immediately became one of them. Y/N fit within the group perfectly, like she was always destined to be a Basterd.

•••

After the third successful mission, they decided to stay the night in a local resistance hotel to relax and prepare for another action. Everyone went to their beds as soon as they could but Donny persuaded Y/N and Aldo to gamble a little before the sleep. 

"C'mon, just one game!" Donny pleaded. It didn't take much and the trio was sitting around a table playing their fifth game.

"I thought you're better at poker, Lieutenant." Y/N laughed as she grabbed another money she won.

"Shut up, Sergeant. I just am a bit lenient with ya, that's all." Aldo fought back, trying to cover the fact he's worse with cards than Hugo trying to actually smile for once. 

"Show me what you got, Lieutenant. I wanna see how you lose control." she winked at him and dealt the cards.

•••

Something changed in Aldo this evening. At first, Y/N was just another soldier sticking up for her country trying to end the war. But now he saw her in a totally different light.

He noticed what colour her eyes have, how she always ties her hair in a braid. 

He noticed how her cheeks blushed when he praises her after a good work.

He noticed how she scrunches her nose when she disagrees with someone. 

All those little things were filling his head. Aldo was so full of it. It was during the other mission when he completely understood his feelings.

•••

One moment and his whole world flipped. 

Aldo was so angry with himself that he missed such an important thing.

Like a gun. 

The German soldier was just kneeling in front of Aldo when he reached in his pocket. It all happened so quickly then.

The German pulled out a gun and with one last defiance he pulled the trigger. But it wasn't Aldo who got hit. 

It was the woman behind him.

Aldo was like deprived of his senses. He threw away the piece of bread he was eating and jumped at the German. If Wicki didn't pulled him back, Aldo would probably beat the guy to death.

And that was Donny's speciality.

"Don't you fuckin' touch her! Or look at her!" Aldo shouted hitting his face with his fist one more time.

Y/N was so taken away by his behaviour, not really sure where the anger got from.

"What the hell, Lieutenant?" she frowned, "it's just a goddamn scratch on my arm. The bullet didn't even hit me properly." 

Aldo froze whereas Donny and Hugo looked at each other with knowing smiles. They finally realised what was going on.

"Are you sure you're okay?" he tried to brush it off, gesturing to the Basterds to continue with the scalping. "It's fuckin' bleedin' a lot!"

"It's fine. Nothing too serious, Lieutenant." Y/N replied.

Aldo just shook his head as he took off his scarf and tied it around the wound. "No one would hurt ya again, or I'd kill 'em."

•••

The Basterds got ordered to rest a bit because there was a big mission on its way. They didn't know what it was but they all welcomed a full night sleep.

But Y/N didn't feel like going to bed. Instead, she took her cigarettes and sat at the balcony of the apartment they got settled in.

It was a chilly night but she didn't mind. She actually liked cold more than heat.

"Aldo seems a bit off lately." Donny's voice broke the silence as he positioned himself next to her.

"What you mean?" she asked offering him a cigarette which he gladly accepted. 

"Remember how he beated up the German officer two weeks ago? I've never seen him like that."

"Oh Donny. He's just a badass with a good heart. I assure you, Aldo's just fine."

Donny shrugged but didn't say anything. This wasn't his secret to tell even though the change in Aldo's behaviour towards her was so damn obvious. 

Donowitz glanced at Y/N smiling a bit. He understood why Aldo fell for the female Basterd. 

•••

Bridget von Hammersmark was laying in front of them with a bullet in her leg while Hugo, Archie and Wicki were dead.

Y/N was standing in the corner of the room, lost in her thoughts, mourning for her lost friends. She knew something like that had to happen but she also believed in Basterds and part of her thought that they'll all come back home one day.

Y/N wasn't able to look at the actress anymore. She quickly left the room not looking at anyone while she lighted her cigarette. It'd been becoming too much to handle for her.

"Are you alright?" Aldo frowned as he walked towards her. "You still in?"

She laughed sarcastically at his question sheaking her head. "Yeah, of course, business. I'm in, Lieutenant."

"I didn't mean in like that and ya know it."

"Yeah, sorry. It's just-"

"I know, Sergeant. This whole event got me thinkin'. I gotta tell you something."

Y/N threw away her cigarette as she looked directly at him. She wasn't sure if it was the light or the sentiment, but Aldo's eyes never seemed so beautiful to her like they did in that moment. 

"The truth is," Raine began as he stepped closer, "you make me feel... you make me feel, Sergeant."

•••

When Y/N stepped into the room in a black plain tight dress, the conversation between the Basterds immediately stopped. They'd never seen her in anything but in uniform or the civilian clothes. Donny dropped the glass of whiskey he was drinking, Hugo's knife fell on the ground with a loud crash, Omar and Wicki stayed there with their mouths wide opened, Archie Hicox smirked and Aldo, Aldo was taken away and wasn't able to get out a word.

"Please, gentlemen! This is how you welcome a beautiful woman? She looks magnificent!" Bridget von Hammersmark exclaimed gesturing towards Y/N.

"It's so uncomfortable," Y/N frowned and tried to adjust the dress a little, "and so impractical." 

"I think it's perfect." Aldo breathed out and Bridget smiled in satisfaction.

Y/N truly looked like a completely new person. And Aldo's feelings mixed once again. She was so special to him, like water is special to desert. His life was dry without an excitment. She was the water that refreshed him after a long time of loneliness.

•••

Bridget, Aldo, Y/N, Donny and Omar stepped into the small local cinema, already so full of Nazi officers.

"It makes me sick." Y/N snorted as she looked around on the German uniforms. "I have two knives and a gun and I'm not afraid to use them right now."

Aldo laughed next to her and gallantly put his hand on her hip pulling her closely to him.

"Just relax, darlin'. We'll do that later." Aldo winked at her, not letting her go for a moment.

Bridget suddenly seemed like she'd seen a ghost. An older man approached their little group and Y/N immediately understood with whom they have the honor.

Bridget and Hans Landa shared a short conversation before they turned to them. Hammersmark formally introduced the Basterds and Y/N flinched a little under the German's look. Aldo noticed right away her change of attitude and stroked her hip gently.

"Sei assolutamente incredibile, signorina! Ho notato che molti ufficiali hanno voltato la testa dopo di te." (You look absolutely stunning, miss! I noticed that many officers turned their head after you.) Hans Landa grinned and Y/N thought it was the most disgusting thing ever.

"Grazie mille signore. Sono sicuro che stai esagerando." (Thank you very much, sir. I'm sure you're exaggerating.) Y/N faked a smile and clenched her hand in fist to remain calm.

All of the Basterds with Bridget jerked their heads towards her. Her fluent Italian took them away as well as Landa.

"Quanto amo la lingua italiana! E dalla bocca di una donna così bella, è una musica per le mie orecchie." (How I love the Italian language! And from the mouth of such a beautiful lady, it's a music for my ears.)

"Mi stai adulando, signor Landa. Non hai un brutto aspetto." (You're flattering me, Mr Landa. You don't look so bad yourself.) Y/N felt like vomitting any next second. 

Aldo had enough of Landa's fake attitude, especially how Y/N looked so stressed and angry. He decided he has to step in or she won't hold herself back. Aldo recalled the one sentence he learnt yesterday, just in case he'd need to interrupt a moment in a formal way. This was the time.

"Baciami, adesso." (Kiss me, right now.) he stated and pulled Y/N even closer than before. She didn't manage to prostest or ask a quick question and their lips touched. She returned the kiss immediately and ran her fingers through his hair.

Until someone coughed.

They pulled apart from each other, Aldo smiling widely like a winner and Y/N blushing harder than ever.

"Ci scusi signore. Il mio ragazzo qui è un tipo appassionato. Devi perdonarlo." (Excuse us, sir. My boyfriend here is the passionate kind. You must forgive him.) Y/N stuttered and but looked directly at Landa.

•••

Operation Kino was over and it was now only her, Aldo and Utivich. They lost everybody along the way. They stood together side by side through everything. They'd become something stronger than family, friends, lovers. They faced death together and nothing could break the bond they'd created over the years. It was time to go home.

Y/N stood on the ship that was taking the Basterds, or what was left of them, home. The wind was dancing on her hair whispering secrets in her ears.

"I never thought I'd make it back home." Aldo Raine appeared next to her with a cigarette between his lips.

"None of us thought so, Lieutenant." she nodded, "but the difference is, we were wrong. Not them."

"Smart as always." Aldo grinned as he turned to her. "You should stop calling me Lieutenant. The war's over."

Y/N giggled at his statement and he could swear he'd never heard something so melodic, something so right. 

"It kinda sticked with you, Lieutenant."

Aldo didn't answer, instead he threw away the cigarette and took some deep breaths. He needed whiskey, or anything else that would give him at least a bit of courage.

Aldo Raine fought in war, he saw his friends die, he was broken by everything he saw and still, asking Y/N a simple question seemed harder than surviving the bloodshed.

"Spill it out, Lieutenant." she laughed as she glanced at him. 

"I hate how ya always do that. But here it goes," Aldo replied, "I've never been good at this so I'll just keep it short."

He stopped for a moment and stared at the woman in front of him. As he stepped closer, his heart was already racing like it'd never before.

"Why don't ya come to the States with me? We can buy some little house in the Smoky Mountains and live there for the rest of our fuckin' lives." Aldo confessed in his Raine kind of way, looking at her with so much hope in his eyes. 

"Is this some kind of your proposal?" Y/N chuckled as she intertwined her fingers with his.

"Maybe."

"I thought you'd never ask! Of course I'll come with you! You're everything I have, Aldo." 

[angelic-serenade]

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request: 🌟 Hellou!! I love ur work!! ❤️❤️❤️ Is it possible tó ha e a Alastor and younger(like 4 years younger) reader who have nightmares of his death sonetimes, cause she saw itt Back then, and go to big bother Alastor for comfort? 🦌

requested by: anon

a/n: okay so this was supposed to be a quick one-shot but my hand slipped and I wrote 9500+ words instead. oops. anyway, I hope this meets your expectations, enjoy!

gif, original work and characters do not belong to me

pairing: Alastor x sister! reader

fandom: Hazbin Hotel

warnings: mentions of death, bit of angst, traumatic events, toxic relationship if you squint, Alastor being Alastor but softer for reader

✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

It never rained down in Hell, no matter how ardently you had sometimes wished to feel the drops pouring down your robes. Even during your longest nights, the ones haunted by nightmares and long-forgotten memories resurfacing at your weakest, it would never rain like it did in those Gothic Novels your darling brother used to read you back in the day: you were no virtuous protagonist and never would the skies cry for your misery. It was probably one of the worst downsides of being stuck in Hell for all eternity: the equally eternal blood red sky forever looming over your head, serving as a reminder of your infernal punishment.

When you'd wake up in the middle of the night, after a particularly vivid nightmare, there was no pouring rain to muffle the sound of your hopeless wailings, no thunder to distract your spinning mind from its panic. Therefore, you found yourself continously seeking comfort from the only person you held dear to your now dead cold heart: Alastor, The Radio Demon, whom you had the privilege to refer to as your darling brother (at least in the privacy of your own bedchamber) - older brother to be precise, even if only by a few years. You had always been extremely fond of your sibiling, looking up to him as a role model - definitely not your wisest decision since it had landed you among the sinners of Hell. That's not to say you had any regrets, Heaven seemed like an awfully dreadful and boring place if you were to be completely honest.

Alastor, on his part, had affectionately doted on you back on the surface, taking his little sweetling under his protective wing as if his sole purpose in life had been to take care of you. As a consequence, on more occasions than you cared to remember, you had felt utterly asphixiated by your brother's undivided attention all your life, and quarrels had been a daily occurrence whenever his protective behavior clashed with your own desire for freedom. Your lovely mother had always been there to try and defuse your heated altercations, the poor woman; your dear brother and you, however, both shared the same stubbornness and desire to prevail on others, so that whenever your strong personalities came to oppose, trouble was always certain to follow suit.

You wished you'd appreciated his concerns more when you had been given the chance. Now in the afterlife, shows of affection were hard to come by. Mayhap that had been the worst punishment inflicted upon you after death: the privilege of having your dear brother by your side without actually being able to cherish and bask in his caring regards. Mayhap the illustrious Dante had been right in his musings all along: the law of retaliation had taken away from you the one thing you had never really appreciated in life, making you realize just how much you had taken for granted. Now that your brother had become Hell's greatest menace, an overlord to make things worse, weakness in any shape or form could and would not be tolerated under any circumstance, for both his and your sake.

Luckily, no demon in the seven circles suspected that the feared Radio Demon had any siblings to begin with, thanks to Alastor's foresight.

Your identity was to be kept secret at all costs in order to avoid undesired repercussions. If anyone were to even suspect you had any kind of connection to the Radio Demon - Alastor had told you - overlords and lesser demons alike would be at your throat in the span of a heartbeat. If given the chance, no enemy of his would ever hesitate to stoop as low as to attack him were it hurt the most, where he was most vulnerable. And that chance, he was not willing to give any time soon. You both had already died once and you were not keen on repeating the experience.

So you had followed his every order ever since your fall into the pits, leading a life death away from your darling brother and his chaotic ways - the one thing he hadn't been able to prevent in life -, keeping a low profile as a common denizen of Hell. Alastor would unsuspiciously check up on you every now and then, but his visits had been as rare as it was to see an angel in Hell - seeing him once a year was truly an unfair torture. Time went by and you grew more and more lonely as you mostly kept to yourself and wasted your days away in a nice apartment away from prying eyes. You were a nobody in Hell, and that was how things were meant to be.

Things changed when Alastor unexpectedly showed up at your doorstep for the second time in a year, blabbering about the newest project he'd involved himself with. His words betrayed unusual enthusiasm, a mood you had learned to be usually spurred on by the prospect of carnage and bloodshed or his precious radio broadcasts. Whenever he came to see you, he always showered you in gifts and praise, but it had been centuries since you had seen your brother so excited over... anything, really. Therefore, witnessing his cheeriness brought a genuine smile on your face. You were a little jealous you weren't the reason why he felt so giddy, but you couldn't complain as spending time with him was the greatest gift you could ever ask for these days. So when he told you you'd be moving into this phantomatic Hazbin Hotel, where he'd be staying for a while as well, you were impossibly ecstatic. Alastor had gently caressed your cheek and, in one of his rare moments of tenderness, softened his voice as if to lull you away:

“My dear, it has always pained me so to leave you here to your lonesome, but I am certain you understand that I always ever meant to protect you from harm.”

Unexpectedly, as most of his actions were, your dear brother spun you around into his arms as if he were coaxing you into a dance - which would probably be the case, knowing him. His words were impossibly haughty now, as if a switch had gone off in his mind:

“But now sweetling, now the time has come to finally put an end to this painful arrangement. You'll be joining me at this whimsical Hazbin Hotel our dear princess is so enthusiastic about!”

You knew better than to question Alastor and his ways, so you simply nodded your approval, glad to finally be able to leave that god forsaken apartment you had been locked in for far more than you cared to admit. And so you moved to the hotel - still keeping your true identity a secret, mind you. You were introduced as one of Alastor's acquantances, much like both Niffty and Husk were. Nobody questioned your unexpected presence and Charlie (much more than everybody else) welcomed you with opened arms into her precious hotel. When you offered to lend a hand with whatever she needed, she was utterly ecstatic. All in all, you were quick to adapt to the new situation.

The new accommodation, however, brought about quite a lot of new issues as well.

Spending so much time with Astor, for one, even if pretending not to be as close as siblings should be, awakened long forgotten memories about your life on Earth, most of which you would have preferred to keep locked away. During your very busy days, you were able to distract yourself from your scattered thoughts and memories; at night, however, your subconscious relentlessly haunted you in the form of nightmares and there was nothing you could really do to prevent it.

It was inevitable that you'd start losing sleep, as the only way to evade the cage that your mind had become was not to sleep at all. Astor had grown increasingly worried about your sleep-deprived state, even if he tried not to show it, masking his concern with his usual smile and charming talks:

“You will chase away any potential patrons looking so disheveled and shabby, my dear. Charlie will surely be heartbroken.”

You wouldn't have put it past him to manipulate you through guilt, but you knew that Alastor was truly worried about your health. His gaze, cryptic to most, felt all too familiar to you, just like the expressiveness of his smile held no secrets from you anymore. Needless to say, as fond of him as you were, you tried to sleep once again.

Then one night everything changed: it had been the worst night of your undead life, and the best one too.

The deafening sound of gunshots had echoed through your unconscious mind, increasingly loud footsteps and dogs barking so loud that you subconsciously jerked in your sleep. A call to your name, desperate, hopeless and scared. You saw him, his beautiful maroon eyes that had once only pooled in fondness for you, now dark and miserable. But they held promise too, a promise to fulfill maybe someday, in another life.

“I'm sorry (Y/N)”

His smile had dropped.

So had you.

You woke up screaming, trashing about in your bed. Sweat clung to your brow, your mind in a frenzied panic searched for something concrete and real to cling to. Was your brother alright? Satan, you hoped so. He had to be, he couldn't leave you again, you had to go to him, to see him, you didn't want to lose him again, you wouldn't bear the pain - you almost tripped in the bedsheets as you scrambled to the door.

When you arrived to Alastor's door, you had yet to calm down. You rapidly knocked on the hard wood, agitation evident in both your jerky movements and shivering hands.

“Alastor, Alastor, please. Open up. It's me” you desperately whispered.

As the door gently opened, your brother stepped into the darkness of the hallway and you unceremoniously flung yourself to him, clinging to his neck as if it were your lifeline. Your tears wet his robes, but you couldn't bring yourself to care enough to apologize. You felt like you had almost lost him again after all those years of seclusion.

But he was alive and he was with you. That's all you could hope for and far more than you thought you deserved.

Alastor uncharacteristically started to pat your head, as if trying to console you even though he had little to no experience in that area. His movements were uncertain, but as you lifted your head from his chest to gaze into his eyes, you realized no words would ever convey as much affection as Alastor's eyes did in that brief moment. His smile never faltered - even if it had become a bit strained - but you hadn't expected it to. It made you smile through your tears, despite yourself. You realized in that moment you'll forever be the only one allowed to touch Alastor without eliciting his wrath. That fact alone enough for you to truly appreciate the amount of control he'd give up in order to comfort you. He gently brought you to his bed and sat you down next to him.

“Are you quite alright sister dear? You know, those awful tears don't suit you at all! I rather much prefer your blinding smile!”

You smiled wider this time, for him, to let him know that you were indeed grateful.

“Oh, now that wasn't so difficult, was it?”

When he kissed your forehead, you almost broke up crying once again: it had been so long since you and your brother had been so close. The gesture warmed your long dead heart and you tried to return the favor by kissing his cheek. Nobody had ever been that intimate with the Radio Demon and lived to tell the tale, but in that moment he was no demon of hell: he was just Alastor, your dear brother who had doted on you in life and kept protecting you in death too - even though his ways weren't the most orthodox.

“I missed you Al. Please, don't ever leave me again.”

“I most certainly shall not, my sweet little darling. It's a promise.”

You were glad he let you stay with him for the rest of the night. No words were needed as he brought you close and took your hands into his. You both laid on the bed, in a rare moment of peace and quiet. It reminded you of your childhood on Earth and how you'd always sneak out of your room during the night to sleep next to him - you had always been afraid of the dark after all. Only in your adulthood had you learned that there are worse things than darkness one should fear.

After eons of suffering and terrible loneliness, everything finally fell into its rightful place.

Alastor was safe and so were you.

That was all that mattered.

[thebloodydame]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐄𝐍 & 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐓: 𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑡𝑤𝑜

𝐒𝐦𝐚𝐥 𝐈𝐧𝐟𝐨: Maria finds herself starting to get used to the company of the white beast, even though he is still a little unsociable to her.

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬: Maria Lilith Bellona, Theodore Van Atalenta ( The Beast ), Adrian The Butler, Lord Lysander. Edmund The Knight.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: None

𝐅𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦: The Lady and The Beast & Pokémon

Maria was in the fencing training area in the mansion in the company of her colleague Edmund, he was one of the guards of his orda, the clanking of the swords was incessant until one of the swords went flying through the air and falling to the ground, signaling the victory of the Grand Duchess.

The blond man waved his hand and looked at the woman-" Is that a tactic you use to make the loser feel humiliated? "-He questioned.

" Huh? Of course not "-She replied.

" As always, Your Highness, you have a lot of talent, too bad there is never any real battle to put your tactics into play "-Edmund spoke as he watched her put away her sword.

" You could have used them against that creature "-He commented.

" Nah, I prefer to keep him as a mascot "-She replied.

" As you wish, Your Highness "-The knight agreed.

" Well, I better go, I need to go meet Adrian in the garden for my afternoon tea "-Maria spoke and with that she left for inside the mansion, leaving him behind.

Edmund had never seen that woman smile, probably because of her last six husbands, they had tired her emotionally and mentally, she didn't see any more sense in clinging to love and also, immortal life was something tiring and it had become something tedious .

Lady Lilith found herself in the garden in front of the mansion, she was seated in a gilded chair with a small table of the same shade and a beautiful white sun shade shielding her from the sun as she read a thick orange book that had the title 'Our Dog Changed', lying right behind her was The Beast sleeping soundly.

" Hmmm... there's a lot of useful information here, I think I understood the basics on how to discipline "-She spoke as she picked up the next book which was 'How a Wise Miss Cared for a Wolf', she also had to read '100 ways of raising a good dog' and 'There is no such thing as a bad dog'

' I really liked that title, it almost exactly describes my current situation... '-The auburn haired woman thought, that's when she read the first two verses of the book:

Shh!

At her gentle touch down there, she couldn't hold back and let out a moan.

His eyes glowed with fierce heat at the sight of the stern duchess and her untidy hair.

As if he were a wolf thirsty for the duchess's love, she...

Maria aggressively closed the book, taking a deep breath with her eyes closed she thought-' ...Well, that was an unfortunate incident, I just picked up the book based on the title.... I mean, technically speaking, this book shows from more erotic form a relationship between a woman and a beast '-She opened her eyes and looked in the direction of the huge white wolf.

' But first of all, he needs training '-She put the book on the table and turned to the wolf.

" Hey... give the paw "-The Grand Duchess spoke, extending her hand to him, but he simply growled and showed her his fangs, using his front paw to attack her but she managed to get her hand back in time.

' Hmm... he attacked with his front paw, does that count as following my order? '-She questioned herself as she watched him get into a defensive position-' His attitude is terrible but... ''

With a sigh she threw a piece of meat at him and he quickly snapped it up-' I shouldn't have expected too much from him at first '

" Boy... "-Maria called him which made the beast look in her direction-" Sit down "-she ordered but he simply growled at her.

' Hmm, is it harder for him to understand orders using a voice without me guiding him with my hand? '-The woman questioned herself.

Lady Lilith then placed her hand on his shoulder and then pushed him away-" Here, you sit like this "

' Ugh...! '-The wolf thought but in the blink of an eye he was sitting.

" Good job "-Maria praised him.

' If I train him like that, at least he won't hurt others in the future, I might not be able to figure out why I feel he's somehow human but I want him to be able to live among my subjects even when I set him free him '-She thought calmly as she stroked his head-' After all, he's a kind person at heart '

That's when the voice of Lord Lysander, a nobleman who always got into trouble with the Grand Duchess, infested the environment.

" THAT... THAT NAUGHTY.... ! WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING WITH THIS CREATURE?! HE WAS TERRORISING EVERYONE AND YOU CHOOSE TO WELCOME HIM THAN KILL HIM?! "

The woman continued with her blank and cold expression while the white wolf seemed uncomfortable with the presence of that man, she listened and listened to him speak, but then finally interrupted him-" I thought you were hiding pulling strings, but finally it showed ... as I expected, you're shameless "

The man's eyes widened-" W-what!... "

" I know this whole incident was planned by you, this wolf here is Theodore Van Atalenta, The Grand Duke of the cursed bloodline, isn't it? "-She said glaring at the man.

" Your grace, you...! "-He tried to argue.

" Have you by any chance forgotten who I am? I'm Lilith, the first woman in the world, I know everything and everyone and the last time I checked, I was the Grand Duchess. But you're treating me like I was your subordinate.... I can consider your rudeness as an act against me, the Grand Duchess "-She spoke coldly, making the man feel his limbs tense.

She then turned to the wolf beside her, placing her hand under his chin, saying-" What do you think, Theo? "-The wolf raised its head growling and baring its fangs.

" Until his grace regains his senses, I'll be in charge of his care, so I hope you don't cross the line from now on "-She spoke as she stroked the wolf's white fur.

" Your actions towards his grace are, without doubt, acts of mockery against the Grand Duke, how could he, as his loyal servant, let you tarnish his image? "-He said at her.

" So isn't it an act of mockery to feed your respectable Grand Duke with drugs, treat him like cattle, and dump him on an island full of creatures that are disgusting to you? Who would dare to do this to their own master? "-She growled at the man.

" ....Well, that's... "-Lysander tried to make some excuse but failed miserably.

Adrian, who was watching that, looked quite surprised-' Lady Lilith is really impressive '-He thought.

" If you already understand your place, then you can leave "-She said, turning her back on that despicable man.

" ...I apologize for my rudeness, your grace "-Lord Lyssander spoke and with that he left.

The butler then approached her and said-" You have a meeting with Baroness Rebecca and her maids, they want to show you the final result before they start making the decorations for the ball "-He informed her.

" Thank you Adrian, please, while I'm at this meeting, I ask you to send a letter to the Van Atalenta Mansion and ask them to send the head of the house and the head butler, we need to resolve this soon " -She said and then pulled the collar on which the Grand Duke was tied.

" As you wish, your grace "-He bowed and then accompanied her inside the mansion.

As soon as they arrived at her office, Adrian handed her the letter so she could put the 'Family' Bellona seal, which was an apple and around it was a snake-" There... now we just need to confirm that he is here with us "

The woman turned to the wolf and said-" Theo, paw "

The wolf sat down with a sigh and she then took his paw, dipping it in the ink and using it as a stamp, putting the mark right next to hers-" You can send the letter now "-She declared to the butler.

Theo shivered as he looked in her direction, in his view she was far more frightening.

Adrian left her office just as Baroness Rebecca and her little spiders entered, by which time Theo was lying behind her chair, watching closely the movement in the room.

" Well, we'd better start with that soon "-She spoke calmly.

The woman knew that it would take a while for the letter to reach the mainland and then to the state of that Grand Duke's family, what was left for her was just to wait.

𝐄𝐍𝐃 𝑜𝑓 𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑡𝑤𝑜!

[dragonofdarknesschaos]

I've been thinking (because I'm quarantined and bored, sorry )..how it could be possible for Jack to form a good friendship? ...I mean even if a person shows affection, good intentions or a real interest on his stuff... the chance of Jack's betrayal is still there. I don't know I'm wondering ..if he can have a healthy friendship.

*cackles*  Jack Spicer, as he is in XS, is not capable of forming a stable and healthy relationship, despite the fact that he desperately wants and needs one.  And if that ain’t the tragedy of the whole series.

The Jack of Showdown

Just when Jack finally starts to actually warm up and be open and honest about his feelings with others, he either gets grossly mistreated (“The Deep Freeze,” “The Apprentice”) or is presented with the choice of being loved and accepted, despite who he is and what he’s done, or giving in to his baser instincts and double crossing his new would-be friends to get praised by someone who could not care less about him (“The Apprentice”).  It’s difficult to tell if Jack feels he doesn’t deserve to be happy for some deep and personal reason, or if he’s so focused on being seen as EVIL™ and not good; that he believes he must take any and all opportunities to prove his evil worth.  Whatever the reason, the Jack in XS would need someone that will stick by his side no matter what decisions he makes, or what actions he takes to push that person away.  Someone who unconditionally supports him and wants to be by his side.  The problem is, that’s more of a pet and has the potential to become quite toxic.

The Jack of Chronicles

As for the Jack of XC, he has some boundaries, and he’s not quite as ruthless.  He knows he’s kind of a loser, but he still really wants a girlfriend to help boost his sense of masculine ego.  But more importantly, he just wants a friend, to the point that he was willing to pay people to hang out with him (just like in XS “Something Jermaine,” “Judging Omi” and XC’s “Magic Stallion and the Wild Wild West,” “Buddy Blue Ray and the Golden Bunnies,” and “Heal Me”).

Jack enjoys Wuya’s company, but she gets frustrated with his lack of action in favor of building capital or just having fun (the Golden Toilet arc, “Super Cow Patty,” “Tokyo Madness,” and “Omi Saves the Holidays” among many others).  Jack seems to have moved out of his parent’s basement, and is now in his own warehouse/factory, so he’s really trying to focus on starting up his Evil Business idea and often refers to himself as an “evil entrepreneur” throughout the series.  While Wuya appreciates the “go get ‘em” spirit, she still feels that Jack isn’t doing enough to help her, which is the whole reason they teamed up in the first place.  Because of her nagging attitude and matriarchal approach to the relationship, Jack often feels smothered and refuses to act.  However, he still has boundaries and refuses to do certain things if they are not in his interests as well (“Back in the Flesh Again”).

Jack and Shadow

With Wuya as Jack’s pseudo-mother, he needs a datemate to call his own.  Gone is his curiosity in Kimiko (though he does seem to think she’s still cool), but if it’s any other girl, he will do his best to impress her.

Case in point Willow--who he tried to ask on a date if he won the Showdown Trio in “The Fall of Xiaolin.”  She strongly states that she isn’t interested in him in the least, and because the two never see each other again, I would assume Jack dropped the pursuit.

Shadow on the other hand, he likely sees a lot of himself in her.  They’re both evil, admire Chase, they seem about the same age, and... that’s about where the similarities end.  Shadow’s actions say that she is repulsed by Jack, but she never pushes him away, and even praises his “doo-hickies” (“The Laws of Nature,” “Rocco”).  With the use of camera drones, Jack witnessed a lot of the private behavior and abuse between Chase and Shadow, and even some of the abuse in person ( “Tigress Woo,” “Rocco”).  Even the cold open of “Who Shrunk Master Fung?” features Jack being very careful not to harm a strange bird, who is later revealed to be Shadow.  Case in point, the Jack of XC has a streak of kindness in him, and it is unclear if Shadow sees that and resents Jack for having it, or if she admires that aspect of him.  Regardless, after the events of “The Laws of Nature,” where Jack effectively double crosses Chase (and her by extension), Shadow likely made the choice to never trust Jack completely.  She double crosses him at the end of their wonderful team up in “Back in the Flesh Again.”  And Jack doesn’t even get upset or angry about the loss and betrayal.  He’s even more smitten and tries to brag to Omi and Ping Pong before realizing they aren’t into it and flies off.

Overall Jack and Shadow have feasible grounds for a relationship--even a romantic one--if they could both create some honesty and trust between each other, but neither is willing to do that, despite Jack’s over sharing (literally every time he opens his mouth around Chase).  For further reading on Jack’s relationship with Shadow and Chase, check out this post.

Jack doesn’t interact with Tigress, Kimiko’s older sister, much, but he does bother to keep tabs on her and warns Kimiko about her sister’s more nefarious activities (“Tigress Woo”).  It’s unclear if he did this in an effort to get closer to the Monks as a friend, or if he was stalking Tigress because he was attracted to her.  In either case, Tigress is never seen again or mentioned by Jack.

Jack’s Other Interests

There are a handful of episodes in XC that revolve around Jack seeing or meeting another evil-doer and fixating on them, often trying to model himself after them in some fashion.  He does this with PandaBubba to a lesser extent in “Magic Stallion and the Wild Wild West,” then goes full blown fan for Super Cow Patty (in his self-titled episode) and later Le Mime in the same episode, making fan videos and full costumes with personas for both his fixations.  In both instances with the truly evil characters (PB and Le Mime), Jack was looking for a sense of acceptance by an Evil Businessman and entrepreneurial peer, and a sense of belonging to a larger community with Le Mime and his henchmen.  That desire for belonging to a larger community is reiterated earlier in the series with “Heal Me” and Reverse!Jack’s cult.

However, when presented with an actual fan of his, Tiny Sim, Jack is actually somewhat reluctant to have the fan tag along with him.  And maybe that was for the best, as Jack soon discovers that the fan he inspired to become Evil is actually a lot better at it than he, himself, is (“Drawn to be Evil”).  In retaliation, Jack confines the fan to being just a creative idea intern.  Jack is essentially taking credit for all of Tiny Sim’s ideas, and not paying the kid a thing.  Sim, either because he’s doing what his idol taught, or because he feels cheated, makes it a priority to take a Wu or two when he can out of Jack’s stash (“Mark of the Dragon Spirit”).  Sadly, the series ended before the relationship between these two could be further developed.  It wouldn’t have been healthy, but at least it would have been something.

Another important note, Jack does make the clear distinction in both series that the gallery of sellswords he pays to be around him are only in it as long as there’s money for them to be had.  They are not his friends, they will never be his true friends, they’re just people he pays until the money runs out (“Something Jermaine,” “Judging Omi”).  So Katnappe, Tubbimura, Cyclops (after their initial debut), and to a lesser extent Vlad will never truly be Jack’s friends.  Vlad does make a return in XS’s “The Demon Seed” to try and cheer Jack up (not that he’s very good at it), but he doesn’t seem to want anything from Jack other than to do evil things and pal around.  This is a bit of a departure from their first encounter where Jack was presumably paying Vlad to be his hired muscle and inside man (“The Deep Freeze”).

Jack’s Robots

Jack’s relationship with his various Jackbots and other robots is an interesting one.  It’s possible that he created them out of a sick sense of wanting to have friends that he could control, but it comes back more to how the bots are presented in both series.

The Jackbots of XS seem to have a hive mind of sorts, as they will blindly (and sometimes literally) follow their master’s commands.  Those that fall are replaced as if nothing happened to the fallen Jackbot; their numbers are legion.  The bots are later programmed with emotions and feel sadness, but not fear.  This is interesting, because Jack is shown having temper tantrums from time to time, but he doesn’t break things, only tosses them around (“The Journey of A Thousand Miles”).

Jack’s relationship with the more “custom” humanoid robots is split into a binary.  On the one side are the bots that went rogue and have tried to annihilate him or simply want nothing to do with him: Chameleon Bot, Robo!Jack, and the patent-pending Shen Gong Wu Detect-o-bot.  On the other side are the bots he grew very attached to: Yesbot, his Cheerbot squad, and the Shen Gong Wu Detect-o-bot before it went rogue.  Both Yes~ and Detect-o~ allow Jack to be more of a child, as he is depicted being held like a scared child with both of them (if I remember correctly.  “Oil in the Family,” “The Demon Seed”).  He treats them like the parent he doesn’t have around.  The Cheerbots are his hott Barbie dolls that he gets to dress up and maintain.  He doesn’t go much farther than projecting personalities and life problems onto them.  Eventually they are absorbed into the Jackbot hive.

Remember how Jackbots don’t show or know fear in XS?  XC opens with Jack having a tantrum, and many of his various designs of bot run away from him.  Jack is left cornering Chefbot, who has darts sticking out of his chef’s hat.  Rather peculiar for robots to be afraid of their master, especially since they are meant to be hoards of drones.  As Chefbot is developed as a character, Jack comes to respect his creation more, but Chefbot says he has no interest in hanging around someone like Jack; he wants to go places and be a real chef!  He can’t do that if he’s making paltry snacks for Jack.  Chefbot’s last appearance in the series is on a cooking show (either on TV or YouLook) making pizza, while Jack follows along from his RV.  Jack seems quite relaxed and at ease, even using the Banyan Twister Shen Gong Wu to stretch his body and the pizza dough.  It is never stated, but perhaps Jack is proud of his creation accomplishing it’s dream.

Thank You for Being a Friend

In conclusion, the Jack of XS is incapable of having a healthy friendship with anyone, either because he thinks he doesn’t deserve it or because he really is just a terrible person and pushes everyone away.  He would need someone to stand by and support him no matter what he does and no matter how horribly he treats that person.  Such a relationship has the potential to become toxic if boundaries are not set and if Jack doesn’t grow as a person.

The Jack of XC is desperate for a single friend, but 98% of the cast sees him as a pathetic loser, and not worth a second of their time.  Those that do see value in Jack’s companionship have all been hurt by Jack’s betrayal and lack of trust, or have betrayed Jack, because they have no trust in him (often from a previous encounter).  For this Jack to form a stable friendship, he needs someone who he can talk to honestly, openly, and not be judged for his feelings, and he seems to want someone who talks the same way to him.  He’s ready for a relationship, he just doesn’t have the rapport or trust built up with anyone.

TL;DR

Jack lacks basic trust in all his relationships.  He would need someone he can constantly count on, while also setting healthy and reasonable boundaries with that person.  If honesty and trust--ABSOLUTE TRUST--is there, Jack can have a friend, maybe even something more.

[jgfiles]

Hello i've read all your theory about D agency personalities. It's really help me to know more about them. Um.. if you dont mind, can you tell me something about Gamou & Sakuma personality? i'm curious to know. Thank you

I’m glad I was of some use!

Hum... those two are the hardest actually because they change a lot according to the media they’re in. D no Maou and the stage for example changed quite a bit Sakuma’s personality, while the anime changed Gamo’s personality making it rather different from the original novel.

As everyone seems to be into the Joker Game anime, I’ll assume you’re asking about Sakuma and Gamo from the anime and I’ll use the other media only when they don’t contrast with the anime canon.

So Sakuma.

Sakuma is very much a representative of a man of his time, or better of how a man of his time was expected to be, with all the good points he was meant to have. He’s serious, honest, hardworking, fair, loyal, capable of self reflection,observant and attentive.

In the novel we learn he was one of the best at the army academy and, always in the novel, Odagiri will comment on how the D Agency spies physical training was something he believed one needs Army training to pass (he was suprised when the other spies, clearly not from the Army, would pass it).

If we compare what the novel says about Sakuma’s ability at the academy:

“Sakuma, who had a fair amount of confidence in his observation andmemorizing skills, had graduated from the Academy with flying colours, and wasconsidered to be an “elite”; yet, he could only describe the abilities of theexaminees as “unusual”.“  [“Joker Game: Chap 1 Joker Game]

and what it says about Odagiri/Tobisaki:

“At the Military PreparatorySchool and Imperial Japanese Army Academy, he was almost always getting the topresults. This wasn’t to impress anyone else, it was his natural abilities andpride that had made it happen.” [Joker Game: Chap 5 XX]

we can speculate the two are more or less even in regard to ‘soldier abilities’.

What Odagiri seems to best Sakuma is his ability at memorizing meaningless details.

Note that Sakuma too is attentive to details, he’ll figure Muto was hungover or how Gordon’s reaction isn’t the standard one but his attention focus on only certain details, details that seem relevant to him.

You might say he has a more selective memory than the D boys who remember and observe EVERYTHING.

Back to Sakuma he is probably meant to have all the virtues a man of his time was meant to have, only if you turn them around they can very well become flaws. Because he’s fair and honest, his first approach to the Joker Game is to expect the boys would be fair and honest as well.

Although the boys are civilians they’re now working for the Army so he expect they would keep a behaviour that would be commendable for a soldier.

So it’s not exactly he’s naive, it’s just he didn’t consider them cheating because to him it’s ‘unnatural’.

He didn’t immediately think Gordon might have hidden the cyphers behind the emperor’s portrait not because he’s lazy or not attentive or anything but because there’s such a strong taboo in touching it (people committed suicide for doing it) he didn’t even consider the idea because to him it would be ‘unnatural’.

In fact for most time he will see the D boys as ‘not human’ because they do things that to him are ‘unnatural’, therefore he can’t understand them and he’s sort of weirded out when not outright disgusted by their behaviour.

He needs to be explained it, and only then he can work it out.

You can see he managed to understand Tazaki’s explanation in the end and even use it to figure out something about Tazaki.

What I always found very interesting though, was that Sakuma was sent them to report the D boys misbehaviours and they, especially in the novel, misbehaved quite seriously and yet he won’t tattle them out to Muto.

Yuuki asked him if he was a spy but Sakuma denied and we can see in the end he hadn’t spied them.

It’s hinted Sakuma had friends before coming to D Agency, which points at how he was actually a social guy, although in D Agency he can’t socialize well with the boys. Side material though shows him not shy to praise the boys when they do well.

Considering Sakuma was an army academy student and this sort of studies was expensive it’s possible his family is either well off or upper class.

It’s speculated the baby is Sakuma which would make his father a member of the Army as well.

Ultimately, when Sakuma finally manages to connect the dots and understand why the D boys were the way they were, he overcomes his problems at accepting their words and is disappointed in himself for not figuring it out sooner.

Sakuma is very self aware. Although a side of him is flattered Yuuki asked him to join D Agency, he chooses not to because he realizes he himself is a soldier and will remain as such... although his beliefs has shifted a bit in fact he claims he refuses to let people use any longer (which wasn’t a thought a soldier should have).

In the drama cd we see that when Sakuma has the role of the teacher and therefore he’s in a mindset that’s less against the D boys behaviour, he’s very supportive of them, considering their duty to stand at their side even when he believed there could be a bomb in the place.

He still remains a guy scolding prone though ^_-

Now Gamo.

In the novel version Gamo was one of the D Agency students but the anime turned him into a Wind Agency students.

What we can infer from this? He’s likely another soldier, like Sakuma and Odagiri, only he’s probably one who also had attended to the War College (Sakuma and Odagiri stopped at Army Academy) because Kazato was affronted Yuuki would refuse people from the War college and likely, in retaliation, he made his pick among members of the war college.

As a consequences Gamo is likely older than all the D boys and possibly than Sakuma and might outrank him (although in the past I speculated the Wind Agency boys were also second lieutenants this is unlikely as people needed to be first lieutenants or captains to attend to the war college).

Wind Agency copied its training method from D Agency, so Gamo too is very capable, but not its phylosophy and, as a consequence, its members are probably less open minded than D Agency members.

They prefer to kill to solve problems. It’s also meaningful how in the novel D Agency Gamo didn’t ask for the key to Graham’s safe as he knew how to open it on his own, while anime Wind Agency Gamo wanted it.

You can speculate this means Wind Agency members are either less well versed at opening safes or just more reluctant at doing it.

The previews gives me the feeling Gamo is one who has a view of the world that’s very ‘fight like’.

With Jitsui he remarks his view of chess is of a violent sport...

with Odagiri that chess isn’t about winning or losing but about living or dying.

In this I’ll say he betrays his nature as a soldier who sees everything as a war in which he’ll either kill the other part or die trying.

Although Gamo graduated in Wind Agency while working on the Graham’s case he is shown often near Kazato so maybe he either trusted him in a special way or has taken a liking to him (though more likely the truth is the other poor Wind Agency guys were just stand in).

Gamo can clearly look friendly, humble, he’s attentive but he probably is similar to Sakuma as he overlooks some relevant details. He can be cold and ruthless but, I think, he views himself as a patriot not as a bad guy.

It might be not really relevant but the draws of his chibi version seem to point out he can be pretty cheerful (though we also saw as he could be stone cold) and how he too, like everyone in this story really, is a smoker.

From the picture in which he place away the books I’ll say he’s a guy who’s ordered and precise. However from the way in the story in which he murders in cold blood Cho, stabbing him in the back I’ll say he’s not a honest boy like Sakuma, but won’t hesitate in using dirty tricks Sakuma would find dishonourable.

He seems to be good at analyzing people through chess but he can let himself be fooled by Morishima/Jitsui deceptively harmless appearance.

I hope it helps! Thanks for your ask!

[maevelin]

I don't mean to be rude, but' i'm genuinely confused. I understand liking Nesta, but I don't know how you would love her so much knowing that she was this abusive : "...Feyre, you’ll have no one left to remember you, or to care that you ever existed.” "No one in this family cares about you and we would all be happier if you were dead”. "You stink like a pig covered in its own filth. Can’t you at least try to pretend that you’re not an ignorant peasant?” and many moreeeee

“I think Nesta feels everything— sees too much; sees and feels it all. And she burns with it. Keeping that wall up helps from being overwhelmed, from caring too greatly.”

“You know nothing about who I am, and what I’ve done and what I want.“

“What happened to Tomas Mandray?” I asked, the words strangled.“I realized he wouldn’t have gone with me to save you from Prythian.”  

“He stole you away into the night…It wasn’t right.”

“But beneath the wall, I witnessed children - entire families - starve to death. Were it not for my sister…I would be among them.”   

And many moreeeeee.

And all that while we have only one side of the story and not a clear picture since we only got Feyre’s PoV. For every example you put here for Nesta’s abusive behavior I can present an action of hers that showed remorse and love and sacrifice for Feyre. And yet somehow those do matter in this equation at all.

What surprises me here however is that somehow people are ready to be confused and jump to conclusions and ask explanations as to why someone likes a fictional character. As if there has to even be a reason for liking a character as if it is wrong to love it and therefore you need to explain your thoughts and motives for daring to like a fictional character.

This truly baffles my to be honest. Also a helpful reminder. When you send an ask to someone starting with the phrase  ‘I don’t mean to - insert whatever word’ then the receiver of that ask will immediately get into defensive mode because chances are that what the sender did not mean to be actually…is.

Generally speaking however I can like whatever I like without having to explain myself. Fiction is not reality. And what attracts one person to liking certain things in fiction is a matter of personal taste and …you know…different strokes for different folks.

Nesta Archeron is a fully developed character. The side you showed in your ask (which I am not excusing because I do not have to pretend as if it is not there in order to like Nesta) is only a part of Nesta’s characterization. In order for me at least to like a character I need to eventually go through their journey and progression and then decide. Personally I liked Nesta from the very beginning. Why? Because she was not a character that we have seen a thousand times on repeat in the YA genre over and over and over again. That alone made her a breath of fresh air in a collection of anachronistic cliches to which Feyre succumbs to in every aspect and form for most parts in the trilogy to the point where in the last book became practically a bland character with no characterization. But liking is not the same as genuinely loving and as I saw more sides and layers in Nesta I came to love her. I came to love her cold exterior and the fear that lurks underneath. I came to understand how closed off she is. I came to see her struggle with her inability to express emotion. I came to see her mental disorders. I saw the battle  that raged inside her. I came to love the little things and those that were left untold when it came to her. I came to like the realistic parts of her portrayal.

When Acotar began it was obvious that the author wanted to give a Cinderella presentation (so to immediately make Feyre more likable) and did not care for Nesta or Elain aside from showing them as the bad fairytale sisters. They were there simply to play that role (which really made me roll my eyes) and then Sjmaas decided to change her tune and showed more layers. And -for me at least- …it worked.

Yes Nesta is problematic. Yes she is an asshole.You won’t find any arguments there from me.

Nesta is a flawed character. She is not the typical ya heroine. She is not a certain typecast of the Mary Sue protagonist. She also presents characteristics that are both female (propriety, lady mannerisms, dress code etc) and male (rage, unapologetic selfishness etc). She is intelligent and not a warrior. She does not need to yield a sword in order to be a badass. She is not a tomboy in the way tomboy girls are unrealistically presented in these kind of books. She shows characteristics that when are shown in male characters then they appear sexy and hot and their behavior is always excused while when women show the very same characteristics they must always apologize and be condemned for them. I am sorry but I would rather see and like a rude, loud, damaged, unapologetic, flawed and angry asshole lady rather than a picture perfect snowflake at any day. I can LOVE a character without expecting them to be moral or good or even nice. This is fiction after all.

I want to relate to characters. I want to see their flaws, I want to feel them. I want their layers. I want their aggression and their emotional blockage and their depression and their anger and I do not want them to be sorry for it or change their character so to become…likable or loved by others. I want them to speak with actions instead of words. I want them to be consistent. I want them to not be perfect. I do not want the author to spoon feed me any redemption for me to like them or hit me with constant dialogue and exposition so to tolerate a character and come to like it. I do not want one character to be condemned because another is in the highlight and can do nothing wrong which is hypocritical most of the times...and a lie. I want a character that has meat and bones and down to the marrow I can sink my teeth in them and still find more things to explore instead of the same old same old we meet in certain types of literature constantly.

Grey characters are interesting. Morally flawed characters are interesting. Characters that are conflicting and bring conflict are interesting. Female characters of that sort are hella interesting for me.

And because Nesta is an amalgamation of all those traits I came to not only like her but love her. I stan her. I want to read more about her. I am here for her as a character.

On the other hand let me tell you that I also adore Rhysand. Like I live and breathe. And no one is confused when people like Rhysand. No one was even confused when people expressed their love for Rhysand during the first book when we did not have his explanations and excuses for his actions and behaviors. Most people adored Rhysand in acomaf before the chapter in the cabin came. Most people did not even bat an eye when it came to how ‘normal’ it was for Rhysand to have such a fanbase in the acotar fandom even before acomaf was published.

I do not judge people for loving Rhysand (hell I am one of them and I do not want to relate only with moral characters in fiction) but I cannot stand the double standards here.

No one asked me why I like Rhysand. Rhysand that can be manipulative and abusing and secretive and an asshole. Like the way he treated Morrigan in acowar for example. People keep on seeing nothing wrong in him but that does not apply to other characters.

We are still talking about Rhysand that despite his reasoning abused Feyre too. The fact that an abusive action can be understood or explained or ‘excused’ does not negate the abuse no matter the reasons one may have. People seem to somehow forget or excuse that and give a pass to Rhysand as a character AND to people that like Rhysand despite it. The fact that Feyre forgave him or decided it to avert her eyes from his behavior and the author decided to pretend that Rhysand is a feminist and a character that can do no wrong and must be put in a pedestal does not negate his abuse or how interesting as a character he is (at least in the first two books). The fact that he drugged Feyre and treated her the way he did still remains a fact. Or that in acomaf he purposely sent her to the weaver in a situation that could have led to her death which was during a time that she had severe PTSD and could be triggered and further damaged. Or the way he treated Morrigan when it came to her abusers and the way he acted towards her taking away from her all of her agency. And do not even let me start on the suicide pact he made with Feyre while he should know better since he is over 500 years old while Feyre is not even 20. The fact that the author decides to sugarcoat that behavior and even glamorize it as healthy does not change it from being problematic and yet it is constantly praised.

It is praised when it comes to Rhysand but not when it comes to Nesta. Imagine that really.

No one argues about how Rhysand is likable despite being a grey amoral character and an asshole. The fact that he uses honey in his words and not vinegar like Nesta does not change his amorality.

Is it a matter of nobility and motives? Like those Nesta showed when she wanted to save kids and stood up in the High Lords meeting and wanted to sacrifice her life in the war? Is it because Rhysand was abused UtM when Nesta was abused when she was thrown into the cauldron (which we do not even know how much time passed for her in there). Is it because he was a rape victim because Nesta can have Tomas Mandray for that. Is it because despite his PTSD he stood up defending his ideals just like Nesta did? Is it because he is an extrovert while Nesta an introvert? Is it because he loved Feyre despite the abusive moments? Because Nesta’s actions also show love towards Feyre. Is it because of the romance? Because sibling love and rivalry can be just as interesting. Is it because Rhysand’s honest actions in contract with Nesta’s that are also there.Is it because Feyre loves and forgave Rhysand so the fandom has too and be alright with it and not expect more from him? Because the last time I checked Feyre loves her sisters to death and forgives them and is ready to go down for them but the readers choose to ignore that. When Feyre called the names of  those she loved in her list inside her head to give her strength both under the mountain and when she was a spy in the spring court Nesta was always there but people act as if that should not be the case despite the fact that Nesta is Feyre’s family and in families you forgive.

Or is it because Rhysand is a man and does not have to excuse himself especially since the writing favors him even beyond reason and logic while Nesta is a woman so she will have to be judged -by far- more harshly and the people that like her must always explain why they like her as if they should not?

I can’t help but wonder.

In the end I don’t necessarily have to filter everything I read in fiction through a politically correct perspective and apply to the fictional things I like a real life way of thinking. At least not all the way through.

In the end I can just like characters either they are heroes or villains or in the between or nothing of that sort.

And Nesta is one of the character that has won me over. With her bad traits and her good traits. With her dark moments and her moments of light. With her wrongdoings and her ideals. She is not perfect. And I would never expect her to be. And I actually love her exactly because she is not that. I would take an imperfect character any time of the day. Just I have done with Scarlett O’Hara and now Nesta Archeron. They are my jam I can’t help it.