#as a result . it not only brings him back to life to say fuck you to arceus but also leaves a piece of itself in his body

[lyricalchrysanthemum]

hmmmmm . being barry might suck more than it already does

[seresinhangmanjake]

Forgetting

Jake Seresin x reader

Summary: Jake forgets to pick you up at the airport because of his ex, and for the first time, you think maybe you and Jake aren't mean to be.

Notes/Warnings: Angst, but ends fluffy. Fighting. Cursing. This was a request that I said I'd have done in a couple days and it took me a week and a half. Sorry about that. Also, please be gentle. I haven't written for Jake in what feels like a millennium.

Words: 2700

Jake Seresin Masterlist / Main Masterlist / Tag List

As much as it would kill you to know that he could be hurt, you hope he’s hurt. You hope he’s on his way to the hospital to receive life-saving treatment because if he’s not hurt, if he’s not receiving life-saving treatment, then he simply forgot about you. And that makes your heart want to claw its way out of your chest and scamper across the floor until it’s well out of your range to catch it. 

Your call goes to voicemail for the fourth time. You send your twelfth text: I hope you’re ok. I landed an hour ago. Please call me. Nothing different than the eleven other messages that have gone unanswered. Forty-five more minutes pass of you sitting on a bench by the airport exit before you finally surrender your last shred of hope and call Bradley to come save you. 

Within the hour, you’re sighing in relief, the sight of a friendly face almost bringing you to tears. He approaches you with open arms and you fall right into the embrace, comforted by the hug that should be in your boyfriend’s arms, and the warmth that should be from your boyfriend’s body, and the forehead kiss that should be from your boyfriend’s lips. 

“Please tell me he’s ok,” you say against your friend’s chest. 

A heavy palm rubs up and down your back. “No one could get ahold of him.”

Your head jerks back so you can meet his eyes. “Oh my god!”

“I’m sure he’s fine, kid. Don’t worry.”

“How can you say that? He was supposed to be here and he’s not and–” You pause when Bradley looks away from you, and a hefty stone settles in your gut. You know your friend well. He’s a good man, honest but sensitive, and when that honestly meets that sensitivity, it results in his inability to look someone in the eye if he thinks the truth might hurt them. You’ve seen it a hundred times, but never with you. 

Your posture wavers with your lengthy exhale. “What aren’t you telling me?”

Another great thing about Bradley: he doesn’t make you play any games. You don’t have to jump through hoops. You don’t have to ask the right questions in the right way in order to get what you need out of him, unlike many men, your boyfriend included, who recently has found ways to skitter around telling the full truth. 

“Javy said he saw him a couple of hours ago,” Bradley says.

Your back teeth clench. Your mind shoots to one conclusion. “With her?” you ask. Bradley’s eyes drift from yours again and you nod, a tear at the ready to leak down your cheek. “He forgot about me because he’s with her.”

“We don’t know that for sure, and–”

Your hand scrubbing down your face cuts him off. Your fingers pinch the bridge of your nose before you suck in your whimper and say, “Rooster, why did he even ask me to come here?”

“Because he…I mean, we thought he–”

“You thought he gave a fuck about me.”

“He does,” Bradley says, stressing his words in an attempt to reassure you. “He never shuts up about you.”

“Sure,” you say. “He gives so much of a fuck that he forgot about me to be with his ex. How can you explain that?”

Rooster sighs. His hands slip into his jeans pockets just to have something to do with them. “I can’t.”

“Exactly.” 

No one can explain it. Not you, not Bradley, not Jake. Everyone you know back home would be telling you to run for the hills right now. They were already wary of this ‘Navy guy’ that they’d only met twice around the holidays, who lives a decent distance away from your entire life and who constantly requests that you be the one to hop on a plane rather than the other way around. 

For the duration of your time together, you’ve been understanding of that sacrifice. You know his schedule doesn’t allow impromptu trips out of state, but that hasn’t made it any less exhausting for you. And maybe that’s a sign. Another sign. A nail in the coffin. Maybe you and Jake aren’t meant to be. And why would you be? You met him on a brief vacation to visit a friend who doesn’t even live in the same town anymore, and somehow, during those few days, he convinced you to take a chance on him. So you took the leap. But being that bold doesn’t guarantee you won’t fall flat on your face, and you think that’s exactly what’s happening. You’ve tripped over a guy only to realize he doesn’t care about you to the same degree that you care about him. 

However, you’re not the type to avoid confrontation. If Jake Seresin is going to mistreat you because of his ex, then he is going to do it to your face. He’s going to look you in the eye when he shows himself to be the liar he is. It may hurt more to go to him rather than get on the next plane home without so much as taking in a breath of fresh Californian air, but you’re too upset to let that thought fully develop, and a moment later, Rooster is following your stomps out the door. 

—

You find him at the Hard Deck, standing at a hightop with a beer glass in his hand that clinks against the one in his ex’s before he takes a sip. Bradley’s comforting hand lands on your back in solidarity. You only met him because of Jake, but the two of you bonded despite their differences, and having him by your side now makes him nothing short of a life-saver. 

He helps guide you through the crowd to the table, and when Jake spots you, he chokes around the liquid going down his throat. His blown-out emerald eyes rival saucers and his mouth gapes like a fish, but then his stare flicks to Bradley, and those eyes shrink into narrow slits. His face heats to a boiling red. 

“What the fuck!” Jake snaps, shocking the composure right out of his ex’s poised stance. Bar patrons close by turn their heads but quickly return to their own conversations. Jake steps away from the table, coming to a halt in front of you and his squadmate. “What the hell is this?”

You figured he’d be bothered if you showed up with Bradley in tow. And good, that’s what you feel he deserves. Jake’s been wary of the other Dagger’s closeness to you for a while, and even though you know—as does Bradley—that it’s an asinine concern, you have no problem using it against him now. But still, the intensity of his reaction manages to surprise you. You didn’t think he would be this angered by the sight of you with another man that it would have him overlooking his mistake of forgetting you.

Your arms cross. “This is your girlfriend and the guy who saved her when her damn boyfriend left her stranded at the airport.”

“Excuse me?”

Jake’s ex’s prying gaze tugs at your attention, but when you glance over his shoulder to catch her in the act, she quickly looks away—just more proof that whatever the fuck she’s doing with your boyfriend is something to be ashamed of. 

Bradley’s saying something. You can’t quite hear him over the anger-induced fuzzing in your ears, but you’re pretty sure it’s a scolding based on the twisting of Jake’s features as he shoots back his own words of aggression. And then your hand is in his and you’re being pulled through the bar, out the back door, and onto the deck where the only intrusive sound is the lapping of waves on the shore. 

“Why are you here?” he asks. 

You scoff to mask the heartbreak that comes with that question. “Because you asked me to be here.”

“Tomorrow.”

“What?”

“It’s Wednesday,” he says. 

“It’s Thursday, Jake.”

“No, it’s—” he freezes, and you don’t know if he’s tipsy or stupid, but it takes him a minute to come to the same conclusion: it is indeed Thursday. “Fuck,” he mutters.

Your lower back meets the edge of the railing, and you sigh, thankfully keeping in the tears. “What are you doing with her?”

“What the fuck are you doing with Rooster?” he returns much more forcefully. “Why didn’t you call me?”

“I called, I texted, I left voicemails,” you tell him, “But clearly, she was more important.”

Jake’s hands pat down his pockets, mouth setting in a frown when he can’t find his phone.

“Don’t bother. Phone or no phone, you forgot about me because of her. Last time I was here, you were late for one of our dates because of her. You spent fifty percent of our time together stepping away to take her phone calls,” you say, trying and failing to avoid the bitter taste on your tongue. “Just fuck her, Jake, if you haven’t already. I only came here to tell you that she can have you.”

You’ve never seen him fall apart the way he does. You’ve never seen the blood drain from his cocky face. You’ve never seen his features break and crack and contort into the vision of pure devastation as they do. His parted mouth must’ve gone dry because his next words come out slightly hoarse.

“You don’t mean that,” he says, but it’s more of a plea than anything. “Why…Why would you–” He swallows. A wrinkle forms between his brows and he shakes his head. “You love me. You didn’t mean to say that.”

You do love him—terribly so—but you’re willing to be one of those people who won’t view love as enough if it also means laying you out as a fool. “Jake–”

“Take it back,” he says. His steps are quick, and then you’re trapped where you stand, his hands on either side of your body, gripping the rail. Eyes drill into yours, and for a second, you feel a pang of guilt. “Please, baby, take it back. She doesn’t mean anything to me.”

“And I mean less.”

“No!” he says. “That’s not true. You’re everything, ok? You mean everything to me. She was just helping me, that’s all.”

“Helping you,” you mimic with a roll of your eyes. “Helping you what? Get off?”

With a little whine, Jake’s head drops between his shoulders, his blond hair brushing your collarbone. “Please. Please quit saying things like that.” His hands slide closer to your body and land on your hips. You don’t push him away—you can't—and his touch softens you ever so slightly.

“Then tell me the truth,” you say. “Right now. I’m giving you one shot.”

His head snaps up. His eyes flick back and forth between yours, ironically searching for your honesty, as if you’re the liar on trial here. 

“It was a surprise,” he tells you. “She’s a realtor now, and for the last few months she’s been helping me find a new place, one that’s bigger than what I’ve got because I was going to ask you to move in with me.” Your heartbeat stutters. A layer of goosebumps coats your arms. When you don’t respond, he continues, “I hate missing you. I hate how unfair it is that you’re always the one to come here because I can’t fly out at the drop of a hat. I know it’s a big step, but I figured if I had a place, I could show you how great things could be. That’s why she and I came here. We were celebrating because I’m signing on a house first thing tomorrow,” he says. “Well, that’s why I’m celebrating, anyway. She’s probably celebrating because she just made a decent commission.”

It’s almost unfair how that new information doesn’t make you feel any less of a fool. Had he told you that under any other circumstances, you’d be leaping into his arms, kissing him like you’ve been deprived of him for years, repeating ‘yes’ over and over between those kisses, but you can’t. You can’t because his explanation doesn’t fix everything. 

“That still doesn’t change that it’s Thursday, not Wednesday,” you say.

“I know, baby. That’s my fault. I was so excited, and I was thinking how perfect the timing was that I would be able to pick you up tomorrow and drive you by the house now that it’s officially mine, but I fucked it up.”

Jake’s thumbs press into your hips, and you’re instantly reminded of each moment in your relationship when you’ve felt that same light pressure on your skin. A gentle claiming. The same pressure you felt when you agreed to be his girlfriend. The same pressure you feel whenever you’re in bed together. 

You sense eyes on you other than your boyfriend’s, and when you turn your head, you find his ex staring right at you, an expression on her face that you wish you could say wasn’t one of distress, but it is. And worse, it’s obviously not distress for herself, but for Jake, as if she’s hoping she wasn’t just a contributor to a bomb dropping on his life. 

Jake’s busy staring at you despite your averted gaze, and in a monotone voice, you say, “She feels bad.”

He doesn’t follow your eyes. “Because she knows I’ve been doing this all for you.”

You blink. Your hand runs down your face before sifting through the strands of your hair. “You really want me to live with you?”

“Of course I do,” he tells you. He’s shaking his head, but you know it’s because he thinks any idea that he wouldn’t want you to be blasphemous. His hand cups your chin. “I love you.”

With a sigh, you push aside the rollercoaster of emotions, the misunderstandings that lead to frustration and hurt, and look him directly in the eye. And where moments ago you thought you saw lies, you see honestly. Where you thought you saw betrayal, you see love. 

“Can I see it?”

—

It’s small—a two-bedroom with a little driveway, the shingle siding painted a blue-gray shade that is more blue than gray; bundles of flowers bloom in the boxes under the windows; a bay window protrudes from the side of the structure facing the beach. And it’s perfect.

You can imagine building a life here. You can picture a dog that you’ll have to build a fence for and children years later that will have you reinforcing the fence because they’ll probably be like their father, and Jake didn’t choose to be a pilot because of his lack of adventurous nature. You look at this house and you can see the core of a family. A house that, no matter how far you go for Jake’s job, will always be home base.

Jake is leaning around you so you can both watch the house from the passenger seat window. “I’d offer to show you around, but I don’t get the keys until morning.”

“It’s ok,” you tell him. “I don’t need to see inside.”

When you say that, he falls back into his seat. The back of his head presses against the headrest. His fingers squeeze the steering wheel with his sigh of defeat. “You don’t like it.”

Shifting your body to face him, you say, “Jake, I love it.”

Just like that, his eyes brighten like a pouting child who was just offered a lollipop, and you can’t help but chuckle. You can’t help but forget everything that happened earlier in the night, all of it seeming so insignificant now, even though you know it’s not, and you both know that if he ever makes the same mistake again, he’ll have hell to pay. But something tells you that won’t be a problem. 

“Enough to live with me?” he asks.

You nod. “Enough to live with you.”

---

A/N: Thanks for reading! Comments make my entire world, so if you liked it, let me know? Thanks :)

[gojos-version]

What a slutty concubine

Pairings- Y/N x Hein era! Sukuna

Summary- Your village gave you to Sukuna as an offering, so you became one of his concubines. He seems to ignore your presence for weeks until today.

Warnings- Monster fucking (if Hein era Sukuna counts as that), pet name (little one because you're physically smaller than him and he's 8ft. brat is used), his tummy mouth is used, mating press, double penetration, size kink, tummy bulge, very light choking, doggy style, full nelson and no protection.

Word count- 2.5k

Proof read- ✅

A/n- Hello!! This is the result from the poll i did yesterday! I really hope you all enjoy this as much as I did writing it :) I told yall id cook and make it filthy >:P Please feel free to request anything or drop any suggestions!! I hope you have a lovely day <33

⋆ ✩°｡⋆ 𖦹｡˚ ⋆ ✮ ༺ ⟡ ݁₊ ⊹ ა ✧ ໒ ⊹ ₊ ݁ ݁⟡ ༻ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ⊰⊱ ✩°｡⋆ 𖦹｡˚ ⋆

“Master Sukuna requests all of you to be lined up outside his chambers.” Uraume’s voice rings out, making you stop what you were doing. You nudge the woman next to you and whisper, “What’s going on?”, she nudges you forward softly whispering, “The king does this a few times monthly, or every few days depending on his mood. He chooses one of us to spend the night with.” She grins, “Come, let us go now or he’ll be mad.” You nod your head nervously and follow closely behind her. 

Spend the night with him? You think to yourself. What does that mean? Your heart races thinking it could mean..he’d kill you.. Or.. you stop yourself from thinking about that and shake your head. Not the time. It's not like he'd choose you anyway. He’s completely ignored you for weeks. You kneel down next to the other concubines bowing your head respectively. You hear his loud thump thump thump of footsteps. You want to look up at him but you can't bring yourself to. “They are here as you requested, Master.” you hear Uraume say and then Sukuna hums. “Excellent”, you feel his eyes scanning around the room, your heart racing feeling his gaze on you. 

“You. Come with me.” He orders, you lift your head up and Uraume nods their head at you, “Everyone else you are dismissed.” they order out. You feel your mouth go dry as the other concubines glare at you, some scoffing as they walk back to the room. The one you were talking to before smiles at you, giving you an encouraging “Don’t worry you can do this! Let me know how you go, okay? I’m Akari!”, You let out a small smile to her, “O-okay.. Thank you Akari, I’m y/n” you introduce yourself back. You didn't talk much to anyone when you got here, you did speak to Akari for a bit but never really got the chance to introduce yourself or know her name.

“Y/n, come. You don't want the King to be infuriated.” Uraume interrupts, you swallow thickly nodding your head and follow them into Sukuna’s chambers. You grip the sleeve of your kimono as you trail closely behind Uraume. They knock on the door, “You may enter.” Sukunas deep voice trails out. Your heart races as Uraume steps to the side and gestures for you to walk in. with shaky legs you walk into the room and the door shut with a soft click! “Don’t be afraid, little one. Come.” He orders. For a moment you take him in, 4 big muscley arms, a giant mouth on his abdomen, its expression mirroring his face. He's got 2 arms crossed and the other 2 by his side, all 4 of his eyes watching you. You step closer to him, standing in front of him. “What is it that you want, My Lord?” you ask, trying not to let your voice shake. He raises a brow and grins, “Answer me this, little one, are you pure?” Pure? Does he mean a virgin? If he's not happy with my answer what if he kills me?

“Um.. I am not pure” You answer truthfully. You've been with only one man in your life but, in the village you lived in before you were offered to Sukuna. You had a happy relationship with your boyfriend but god he didn't even say anything as the villagers pushed you towards Sukuna screaming out you were the offering. You see him hum thoughtfully. “Normally I'd kill you for it but since you were given as an offering, I'll give you a chance to please me.” Your eyes widen, you've only really done it once with your boyfriend. It was a fresh relationship before all this happened! It might not have been the best but to you it was more than enough.

“T-thank you, Lord Sukuna.” You bow politely. Now what? Do you strip? Do you wait for him to kiss you? Do you get on the bed???? His voice interrupts your thoughts, “Strip and sit on the bed.” He orders as he turns around to take off his own kimono and he hangs it, while you step out of your kimono and undergarments. Hesitantly you sit on the bed laying on your back. “Good.” He praises, he crawls on top of you and takes your lips in his. You kiss him back and god you feel his tongue dominating yours, your body heats up, his tongue working against yours making you moan softly into his mouth, it feels like electricity shooting through your veins from a simple kiss.

Your now ex?? boyfriend never made your body react this way with a simple kiss. His lips part from yours and he starts nibbling at your throat. “How many times was he inside of you?” He hums against your skin. Your mouth runs dry, “U-uh once”, You hear a hum of satisfaction. Sukuna moves down to your breasts sucking on your nipple harshly, groping and fondling the other one. You feel yourself get damp, slick dripping down your sopping cunt down to your ass. You've never gotten this wet this quickly. You were almost concerned you got your period early from how goddamn soaked you felt. One of his hands goes down, touching your tummy down to your cunt and oh he laughs when he feels how damp you are. “Look at how wet she is” he smirks, his palm cupping your cunt. Your heart stops when you feel something wet and slimy against your sopping cunt. “Relax, it's just a mouth.” He grunts out, putting more pressure against it. You gasp out a moan, your hands reaching out to grip his shoulders.

“L-L-ord- Ah-!” You moan out as the tongue on his palm pushes deep inside of you, bullying its way into you. “Yeah? Feels good, hm?” He says smugly, sitting back on his heels to watch you, he can see your slick dripping down your thighs and making a wet spot on the mattress under you. You feel a knot in your stomach tightening up making you gasp and moan wildly. “S-suk-una-! A-ah! C-clooooosee!!” you whimper out gripping the sheets with a steel grip, your walls clenching around his tongue. Suddenly he takes his palm off of you, “That’s ‘Lord Sukuna’, little one.”, “I-i’m s-sorry!” You say a bit too loudly. You watch as he slips his undergarment down revealing not 1 but 2 thick, long cocks. 

Your eyes widen and your mouth runs dry. “M-my L-Lord I-im not sure i can-” He cuts you off glaring at you, “You will take them.” your heart races. ‘It looks like 1 is painful. How the hell am I gonna be able to take both?’ You think to yourself, your body feels really hot, you're breathing heavily watching his every move; spreading your legs in anticipation. He notices and smirks, he hovers over you propping your legs up to your chest. You are folded in half your cunt in clear view, so soaked with your ass hole in his view too. He takes his top cock and rubs the tip on your slit, bumping your clit, his precum and your slick mixing together. You can hear his cock and your sopping cunt connecting and every move he moves his cock up and down your slit you can hear the wet squelches your cunt makes. 

He starts to slowly push the tip in, immediately the stretch stings from the sudden intrusion. “Calm yourself.” He mumbles but god he won't admit it outloud, your warm wet cunt clenching around his tip makes him want to shove his entire length into you and fill you oh so full of his cum. You nod your head blearily trying to relax yourself as you feel him sink his cock into you. 2 of his arms grip your thighs, pushing your ankles to your head while his other top arms grip the headboard. He thrusts the first few thrusts slowly allowing you to adjust but after that? His thrusts speed up to an inhuman pace, his mushroom red tip slapping against your cervix hard. You don't moan, you scream out from how heavenly you feel right now, if it's possible somehow above that. Suddenly his left top arm leaves the headboard and his palm covers your mouth, a mouth forming on his palm and it shoves its tongue down your throat making you let out muffled moans it greedily swallows. Sukuna looks down and god he could cum right then and there at the sight of your stomach having a bulge from how big he is. When he thrusts in the bulge is right there and when he pulls back to shove his needy cock into you again and again the bulge disappears and reappears with each motion. You feel a knot form and you feel like you're about to explode. You can't even warn him because he has his hand covering your mouth with its tongue down your throat.

Your drenched cunt grips his cock like a vice, your eyes roll back and you sink somehow further into the mattress and you see not stars, pure white as you start shaking from how good you felt. You hear him grunt out a few curses and he fills you to the brim of how much cum comes out. He lets go of your legs and removes his hand off your mouth. With a swift motion he flips you over, on all fours. “We aren’t done yet, brat I’ve got a lot more in me.” He lines up behind you and pushes his bottom cock into your cunt making you moan out in surprise. “T-there's- more-? A-ah!” You whimper out feeling his tummy mouth's tongue licking your ass, the hole specifically. He stills inside of you breathing heavily and his tummy mouth stops dampening your hole, his top cock bumping against your hole making you shiver in anticipation. 

“P-please..you can put it in..” and oh you feel so pathetic for saying that when he smirks and laughs. “Oh? You’re not so scared now, hm? What happened to your complaining, brat?” He mocks, his tip circling your hole. “I-i’m warmed up now- i didn't mean it before- Lord Sukuna..” You add, not wanting to make him mad. You definitely didnt want to lose your head, especially mid fuck. “Mhm, sure little one.” He laughs and starts pushing the tip in making you gasp and cover your mouth, not wanting to be too loud. He sinks his top cock into your ass making your body feel like jelly; your head slumps against the pillow. 

You let out a string of muffled moans feeling him loom over your body as he begins thrusting both of his cocks in each of your holes. God he was going to destroy you. You feel his hips pistoning against yours, pelvis and balls slapping making a lewd plap! Plap! Plap! Each time he abuses your cervix. Both your hands grip the pillow with all your might, “M-my L-Lord-A-ah!” You squeal out as you feel his cocks so deep inside of you. Your eyebrows pinch up as your head’s slumped into the pillow, your body being used like a fuck toy to satisfy his needs. 

You feel that familiar knot in your tummy, hazily you turn your head and look over your shoulder to find Sukuna breathing heavily on your shoulder, cheeks flushed with his lower set of eyes watching you and his other 2 shut. His mouth on his abdomen licks where you're both connected from your sopping cunt and your ass that's leaking with his precum. “Stop looking at me, brat.” He mumbles out, as you go to look away and apologise one of his hands wrap around your neck, not enough to hurt you but just enough to have the edge of your vision blurred. 

“I-I’m-” Is all you get to cough out before you're squirting messily over his cocks. “Yeah that's it, take it.” He grunts out before filling both of your holes, not to the brim but past the brim, his cum leaking out of you as he thrusts sloppily riding out both of your highs. You see white as you shake uncontrollably. His hand lets go of your throat and you gasp for air, suddenly when you think it's finally over it's not. 2 of his arms grip your thighs, the other 2 grab your middle and upper body which makes your body follow his as he lies backwards onto his back, 2 of his hands holding your thighs up to your chest pinning you against him as he thrusts both of his cocks messily into your holes. “H-ah! M-my L-Lord- p-pleaaasee-ah! Ah! Ah!” You scream out as he bottoms out inside of you with every quick, harsh thrust. 

One of his hands snakes down to your clit and a mouth forms on his palm, licking and sucking your clit making you scream and cry out wildly. “S-s-uk-n-ah!” You whimper out, he moans as your holes clench around him, he hisses slightly then covers your mouth with his free hand and a mouth forms on it the tongue, tongue fucking yours making drool from the corner of your mouth drip down to your chin. 

“You’re so nasty, brat” Sukuna hisses out and bites your neck, your moans and squeals muffled by his nasty mouth on his palm. Your body feels limp just sitting there and taking it. You can feel his heavy breaths against your upper neck where he's biting down, your eyes crossed as you mindlessly claw against his biceps. He's beefy. Huge biceps. “What a nasty, filthy, slutty concubine I have. I’d say your village made an exceptional offering.” You feel yourself flush at his words. Right now it feels like his cocks are trying to rip their way to your lungs, his tongue trying to go down your throat, his tummy mouth trying to soak your back and ass and his other mouth trying to bite your clit off. But right now the lines between pleasure and pain blurred the moment he stuffed you full of his cock.

Your puffy cunt and ass squeeze his cocks like you're milking him making a moan slip out of his pink, pouty lips. God youd scream right now if you could but thanks to his tongue fucking your mouth you can only let out muffled guttural sounds. Your stomachs warm tight knot knots up signalling you're oh so close to coming all over his cocks. Your vision feels faint and you feel light headed from the pleasure but youre so close. Your cunt and ass squeeze around his cocks as you squirt again soaking his pelvis and legs, your eyes roll back and the last thing you can feel is his warm cum filling you up once again as you pass out. “Brat, did you pass out?” When you give no answer he lets out a ‘Hmph’ as he pulls out of you, grinning in satisfaction as his cum leaks from your holes, your tummy plump from how much he finished inside of you. 

The sheets are soaked and so are the both of you. He puts a towel around his bottom half as his cocks soften up. “Uraume, take care of her.” He orders out, “Yes, sir” They nod, wrapping you in a towel and taking you to your bed. He hums to himself silently thinking, he’s definitely going to have more fun with you in the future.

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Masterlist<3

[tetsumie]

heyy when you have the time to do so, can i request college!suna x reader angst to fluff where reader tries to spend time with suna but they get into an argument where he decides to spend time with his athlete friend group but then feels guilty and make up with reader through heart to heart conversation? 🫶🏻sorry if this is so long i have no idea how to make the prompt shorter but honestly i love all the fics you post so idc if you change it up a bit just thought i’d give an idea

𝐅𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇

pairing: suna rintaro x gen!neutral reader

genre: hurt/comfort

content: you confront him about the growing distance in your relationship, something he's been dismissing for a while, until he finally grasps the seriousness of the situation

cw: suna is a bit harsh; arguments but they make up <3

a/n: hihi anon! ty for requesting and i hope it's to your liking :D i'm still accepting requests for my 1k event so feel free to send more into my inbox!

"it's like i never see you anymore!"

suna and you have been in this back and forth argument for what felt like an eternity and it's draining the life out of you.

suna has been preoccupied with the upcoming inter-collegiate volleyball tournament. as a starter on the prestigious division 1 ejp raijin volleyball team, the arduous practices and pressure have been taking a heavier toll than expected on him.

as a result of this, suna has been incredibly distant in your relationship. he was always gone before you woke up in the morning and didn't return until after you fell asleep. every time you tried to plan a date or suggest something to do together, he somehow always cancels. it's always, "sorry i have to run some extra drills. maybe another day?"

it's exhausting putting this much effort into your relationship when it all seems in vain.

you've tried bringing this up to suna before, mentioning how you would like to spend more time together. but suna, being suna, always brushed it off. but there's only so much dismissal you can take.

you really miss your boyfriend.

but you're not sure he misses you the way you miss him.

"y/n you can't expect me to drop everything for you! like fuck, i have a life outside of you," he exclaims, snapping you back to the current argument at hand.

"i didn't say that, rin."

"that's what you're trying to say," he replies, crossing his arms over his chest.

you shake you head, lowering your voice. "i know volleyball always has and always will be a top priority for you but i just wish... well, it would be nice if you could put a bit of effort into our relationship."

"what if i don't even want to anymore..." he mumbles under his breath as he walks to the closet, grabbing a coat.

the rage in your heart and mind now simmer down to a feeling of dread and heartbreak. what?

as he turns around, he sends an icy glare at you. you've never seen this side of him and you refuse to let him see you crumble apart in front of him. you refuse to break down right now.

"you don't want to what, suna?" you look at him, tone icy cold. "go on. tell me."

the heated environment is making his mind all cloudy and he wants to end this conversation now.

"you know what i mean, y/n. i'm going out. don't call me."

the door opens and slams shut.

the moment the door closes, you're completely still. you're running on autopilot. you find yourself making a cup of tea and sitting at the dining table, looking at the empty, lifeless apartment sprawled in front of you.

subconsciously, the tears started to roll. i guess that's it then. i think i better start packing my things. i should be gone by the time he comes back home.

meanwhile, suna makes his way downtown to the bar where some of his volleyball friends had invited him out for a couple drinks. he opens the door to the bar and he can hear the familiar rowdiness of his friends.

"well, well, well, if it ain't the infamous sunarin from ejp," a familiar blonde comes running to him. "been too long since i've seen ya stupid ass."

"yeah yeah whatever asshole," suna slaps the back of atsumu and nods over at osamu who's sitting on the table. "it's good to see you both."

as suna and atsumu head to the table in the back with the rest of his friends, his mind can't help but linger back to the argument that he had with you. but he decides to shake his mind off it.

he's here to have fun with his friends right now. not be worried about you.

"you didn't bring y/n tonight?" komori, suna's teammate, asks. "i haven't seen them in a hot minute. what've they been up to?"

what have you been up to? he doesn’t know. when was the last time we both had an actual conversation? he doesn’t know. he doesn’t even know what's been going on in your life lately. fuck this is what y/n meant.

he forces a smile, masking the bitter thoughts playing in his mind. "they're good. just doing their classes and stuff."

"ah right, well bring them by sometime! it's been too long since i've seen them. they never fail to light up the room with their presence."

"yeah you're right."

he nods, taking small sips from the beer in front of him.

as the conversation and chaos ensue among his friends, his mind keeps drifting back to the memories of the argument he walked out on. his mind has cooled off and a sense of guilt starts to take over his body.

here he is having fun with his friends while you're at home all alone, waiting for him. you just wanted to spend time with him and here he was, finding comfort in other people other than you.

he tries to remember the last time you both had gone out together but he's drawing a complete blank. he can't even remember the last time he's kissed you or held you in his hands.

no wonder you've been feeling so lonely.

and in response, he just kept brushing you off until you blew up today. and to make matters worse, he walked out of the argument giving you no sense of reassurance or closure on the matter.

at the realization, suna shoots up out of his seat with flushed cheeks. the group turns to him.

"i gotta head out for the night. i gotta see my baby."

"get a fuckin' room sunarin," osamu shouts. the rest of the groups howls in agreement. "see ya."

he waves goodbye and starts trudging his way back to the shared apartment. he expects to find you asleep so he can crawl into bed with you and cuddle, never intending on letting you go.

so you can imagine the surprise when he opens the door and sees the bedroom light on and hears rustling noises. "baby?" he calls out. "y/n?"

he takes off his shoes and coat and walks to the bedroom. he starts to internally panic at the sight in front of him.

you have a couple of suitcases out filled with your clothes and belongings. at a glance, he can see that your side of the closet is almost empty. you've even taken down a couple of the decor pieces in the room that you bought but he was never particularly interested in. with your headphones in, you’re focused on packing, but what breaks him the most is seeing you wipe your eyes as you do so. why are you even packing? where are you going?

and then it hits him.

not only did he make it seem like he didn’t want to make this relationship work, but his actions have been driving you away. fuck, this was bad. he didn't mean any of it. he has to fix it or he's gonna lose the best thing in his life for good.

he goes over to you and taps your shorted and you yelp, startled by the 6'2" man, hovering above you.

"what the hell are you doing?" suna asks, cocking an eyebrow at you.

you wipe your eyes. "i'm leaving."

"don't be ridiculous," he scoffs.

"ridiculous?" you laugh at the absurdity of his comment. "what's ridiculous is how you walk out of an argument not even wanting to work things out. what's ridiculous is how you just continue to put me aside like i’m some side piece."

he knows you’re hurting. and it’s all his fault.

he doesn’t know how to properly express everything he needs to say to you.

so in the heat of it all, he does what he thinks is the next best thing and kisses you.

you'd forgotten this feeling. his soft lips on yours and how they fit together just right. it's the softest kiss he's ever given to you and your heart swells at the gesture.

you pull away and you plop yourself on the floor to process what just happened.

right there and then, he looks at you. he really looks at you. he notices the way you have some baby hairs popping out and your cheeks feel warm from all that crying. he notices the way your eyes look slightly puffed out and the remnants of tears on your cheeks.

i'm the cause of this. this is all my fault.

"i’m sorry," he begins.

you sigh and look away mumbling to yourself. "you’ve said that before. it doesn’t change anything."

"and you’re right."

you look up at him, surprised by his admission. "w-what?"

"you’re absolutely right, y/n."

he crouches down to your level, resting his hand on your knee so he can look you in the eye.

"i shouldn't have made it seem i wasn't willing to put in the effort into making us work," he says, gesturing between you and him. "my actions and what i said to you a couple hours ago obviously made it seem that way and i'm an absolute dumbass for not picking up on it."

you’re silent. he searches your face, looking for any speck of emotion, but he still can’t read you. in the amount of time he's known you, you’ve always been the exception.

"i've been swamped with so much work lately and i know i need to do better. i spread myself so thin that i forgot to prioritize the things and the people that matter the most to me."

you're silent, unsure of what to say to him.

"i thought i was doing the best i could do until i realized i could be doing so much more for us and for you. i'm so sorry for not being here."

"i know rin," you whisper. finally, for the first time you look up from your lap to look at him. "it just felt like you didn't care about us anymore. you're the hardest worker i know but i just wish you were here sometimes."

"and i wouldn't be able to be that hard worker without your love and support, you know," his hand cups your cheek as he runs his thumb across the tear streaks on your face.

"i realize how absent i’ve been in our relationship lately and i can’t imagine how lonely you’ve been feeling. i want to make this relationship work with you. i know i suck at being sappy and shit but you really are my other half. no matter what it takes, i’ll make us work. i’ll fight for this relationship. i'll fight for us."

"oh, rin," you sigh and wrap your arms around his neck, bringing him in close for a hug. the tears begin to flow from your eyes.

he feels his eyes glaze over. he breathes in your familiar scent and feels a warmth he’s missed.

even after everything, you still love him.

he starts with a gentle kiss on your cheek, then starts peppering your face with soft kisses.

you let out a watery chuckle, making his heart skip a beat. he hasn't heard your laugh in forever and he swears to himself to never be the reason for your tears again.

"let's go to bed now baby. i've gotta cuddle away all the pain i've caused you."

© tetsumie 2024 all rights reserved

[certifiedyapperx]

Captain John Price • broken.

PAIRING: John Price x Fem!Reader

SUMMARY: the result of my poll. in short, you tell your captain that the reason you’ve only dated one man is because your ex said you were broken due to your inability to orgasm; and price offers to show you that the only thing broken was your confidence.

WORD COUNT: 5.3k (got carried away.)

TAGS: 18+, PURE FILTHY SMUT MDNI, Slight Degradation, Praise, Multiple Orgasm, PIV, Semi-Public Sex, Dirty Talk, Absurd amount of swearing, Fingering, Price being daddy as fuck.

"What about that ex girlfriend of yours, Gaz?"

As soon as those words left the Scottish lads lips, everyone in the room was giggling like a lot of fucking schoolgirls. You'd be lying if you said that didn't include yourself.

"You want to talk about ex girlfriends now, Soap?" Gaz sat forward in his chair, eyeing his grinning teammate from across the room, the grip on his glass so tight you were worried it'd shatter between his fingers. "What about that woman you boned in Prague? The one that wanted, oh--how do I say it...a little ride on train 141."

"Nuthin' little about that train." Ghost added through a choked chuckle, barely able to get the words out.

Your fucking abdomen was starting to get sore from the amount of laughing you'd done tonight. These men were absolutely ridiculous. You'd never heard more obscene sex stories in your damn life, and they've got a bloody abundance of them--the back and fourth taunting over who fucked who and who did what never seemed to end. It was almost three in the morning and they were still going strong.

"Aye," Soap leaned back in his chair, bringing his glass up to his lips and taking a slow sip, wide eyes gleaming as he reminisced. "Fuckn' wild one, that one. Had her nice and tamed for me by the end of that deployment.”

"Aye, the fucking woman whisperer, this one," Ghost chimed in again, his balaclava half pulled up, exposing his stubble-donned chin and grinning lips as he took a hefty swig of bourbon. Not even fazed. "Almost as smooth as Price."

Everyone in the room chuckled, nodding and muttering words of agreement, but you were stuck in place--still absentmindedly staring at Ghost while turning the words over in your mind, curiosity piqued.

"Price?" His name left your lips before you could even attempt to prevent it.

All eyes in the room shifted toward you, and Gaz cocked an eyebrow. "You've never heard any of his stories?"

Ghost shot him a look. "Clearly not."

"I mean, I've heard some..." you mumbled, awkwardly trying to fix the mess you've just made. Your gaze darted between the three men staring at you, each set of eyes glazed with confusion, clearly trying to figure out why you were so taken aback. "Captain is far more secretive than the rest of you."

You'd been on the team for a solid eight months. Since recruitment, you'd worked alongside Price every single fucking day, yet the man hardly ever spoke about his personal life.

Unlike the others, who seemed to never stop.

"Around you, yeah." Soap mumbled with a smirk, shooting a knowing glance toward Gaz who instantly returned it.

Your brows knit in confusion. "Around me?"

"Aye." Ghost replied for Soap, and you were practically sitting on the edge of your goddamn seat as you knew he wasn't finished. He shifted lower in his chair as his eyes traced up and down your form. "You're new. You're hot. You've never spoken a word about your own personal life. The man's a bloody nutcase, but he hides it well when he needs to--he probably doesn't want to scare you off."

"Scare me off?" You had to fight to keep your jaw off the floor. Trying to mask your confusion, you cleared your throat. "What's that supposed to mean?"

At your reaction, everyone chuckled again, and your face immediately flushed with blood--shading you the same crimson colour found on a ripe fucking tomato. If there was some joke happening here, it'd clearly flown way above your radar.

And yet, before you or anyone else could even consider speaking again, the man of the hour appeared in the doorway, and you nearly fell out of your chair.

"Valid question." He didn't even acknowledge you as he spoke, eyes fixed on Ghost as he took a step into the room.

Gods, he was fucking attractive—every molecule in your being screamed at the sight of him. You'd done everything you could to ignore that fact for the entirety of your time here, ensuring your focus was trained on keeping things professional--but after two glasses of whiskey and the current topic of conversation, the flood gates were wide fucking open.

"Go on, Ghost," his voice was low, deep as the depths of your desire as his ocean eyes slowly danced around the room. "...I'd like to know the answer as well."

Price took a seat across from you, slouching slightly and nodding toward Soap who promptly poured him a glass of burning brown liquid and slid it across the table. Ghost pulled down his balaclava in attempt to hide his cheeky fucking grin, shrugging as though he had no idea what his Captain was on about. 

"Not sure what you mean, Cap." Ghost quipped, and you could practically hear the beaming delight in his words. "We're just talking."

"Hm," Price side-eyed him, humoured. "You always talk about me?"

"Only when you're not around." Soap chimed in, snuffing a groan in his throat as he'd downed the rest of his drink and stood up, shooting an inebriated nod to each of you. "Well, would you look at the time--I'm gonna' hit the sack. Duty calls, y'know."

Your stomach churned with confusion, your eyes glued to the Scottish bloke who decided it was convenient to make his exit the exact moment Price entered the room. You almost wanted to reach over and yank him back into his seat.

"Keep it classy ya filthy bastards."

He shot you a cheeky wink from beyond the door frame before disappearing into the abyss, only for Gaz and Ghost to rise from their seats as well, seemingly following Soap's lead, muttering excuses about how late it was and how exhausted they were.

Your mind raced at lightning speed, trying to make sense of the sudden exodus. You were going to kill those fuckers in the morning.

Price broke the silence before it had the chance to linger for too long. "It's not personal, you know."

Your heart slammed your sternum. You sucked in a breath and trapped it there. You needed to calm the fuck down--though that seemed like a goddamn impossible task at the moment. Prices' voice was the hypnotizing depth of a black hole. It stirred every last atom within you.

Avoiding his eyes, you straightened in your seat, clearing your throat. "I know."

"Do you?" He cocked an eyebrow, two fingertips tracing the rim of his glass. "I'm not so sure."

You looked up now--almost immediately regretting it as your eyes caught his. You forced words out of your mouth before you could acknowledge how the way he was looking at you made you feel.

"It's because I haven’t opened up to you..." you murmured. "Yeah?"

Price nodded, choosing to remain silent, his gaze anchoring you to the floor—every muscle stiff as stone.

You cleared your throat again. "Well. What do you want to know? My family? Where I grew up-"

"No." He cut you off, leaning forward, elbows resting on the table as his stare intensified. "...I already know all that. You're my recruit, I know everything about your past..." his head tilted, his eyes narrowed, and he pushed his glass to the side, clasping his hands together infront of him. "What I don't know, is why a woman as skilled, as smart, and as undeniably attractive as you, has only ever been with one man."

Blood crystallized in your veins, every ounce of your skin vibrating with an emotion you couldn't identify. He was so close—closer than you'd initially gauged—and that closeness ignited dormant desperation, one you'd nearly forgotten existed.

Your throat was thick. Saliva lodged inside it. "I..."

There was a reason. There was a very good reason as to why you've only been with one man, why you promised to never put yourself through that shit again. But you couldn't bring yourself to say it, you couldn't bring yourself to speak the words aloud. That would mean being vulnerable, humiliatingly vulnerable--one of the many things soldiers were trained not to be.

Captain Price hummed, leaning back slightly, and a swarm of unpreventable desire roared alive in your chest. His attention flicked over you. Like he'd felt it.

He remained silent. He was waiting for an answer.

"It's...um..."

Your brain filtered through pages of plausible excuses until it landed on one. Inhaling a breath, you forced the fibbing syllables past your teeth, shrugging in an attempt to make it believable.

"I just...never found anyone I jived with.”

Price paused, his scrutiny skinning you raw. It was like he knew what was waiting on the edge of your tongue, like he could smell the smoke swirling off the fire below your waist. He wasn't buying it.

"You can't lie to me." His words only confirmed your thoughts. "I mean, theoretically you could, though I'd advise against it."

You swallowed, forcing your eyes to your hands. "I'm not lying."

"Perhaps not," he replied, voice cool as ice. "But you're certainly omitting."

Fuck, he was good. And of course he was--there was a reason he was Captain. He was fucking bred for this. You were certain he could detect a lie from light years away.

"It's embarrassing," you replied, ignoring the thrilled leap your heart made that he'd read you so well. "You'll think less of me."

John Price leaned further across the small table, nibbling the distance between you. The intensity of his focus made your insides tangle, something was undoubtedly churning within his mind. A breath caught in your throat as his eyes held yours.

"I don't care," he stole another inch, and you could now comfortably say that he was well within your personal space. "If this is going to work, there has to be trust. Because you should trust me—as your Captain, and as your friend..." in a single abrupt movement, he stood up, towering over you, eyes boring into the top of your head until he shifted toward the door. "...when you're ready to open up to me, I’ll open up to you."

Ice braced your veins. This was the most conversation you'd had with your Captain since you joined the team, and you were about to blow it with your inability to talk to him. To just telling him the fucking truth. He took a step back from the table, began moving toward the door, and you panicked.

You let him get two steps from reaching it before you jumped up, out of your seat. "Wait!"

Time was a relative concept. But as your Captain spun, and as you linked eyes with him, it slowed. Stopped.

You cleared your throat for the millionth time. "It's because...it's because I'm broken."

Price's eyes widened, only momentarily, before they narrowed--out of curiosity or skepticism, you couldn't tell.

"You’re broken." He said, drawing the words out on his tongue while taking a slow, lengthy step toward you. "Elaborate."

You dropped your eyes to the floor again, catching sight of his brown, rugged combat boots as they stepped into your line of sight. Heat flashed your face, and you shifted on your feet.

"My...my ex...um," your voice was barely above a whisper. Something felt gut-wrenchingly humiliating about having this conversation with your fucking Captain. "He, he kinda fucked with my head, I guess. Made me never want to date again."

You heard an exhale, a huff of enticed breath leaving lungs.

"I think," Price eased closer, and you caught whiff of his cologne--the scent engulfing your senses, sending hunger snarling and snapping for relief. "...you're omitting again."

"Why?..." you blurted, trailing your gaze past the vast expanse of his strong chest and up to his gleaming eyes peering down at you. You blinked. "...do you think that?"

Price raised a brow. "Am I wrong?"

"No, it’s just…” you closed your eyes, took a breath. Let it out. No point in lying. Just rip off the fucking bandaid. "He broke up with me because I couldn't orgasm. He said I was broken because of it. It’s dumb, but it hurt.”

Gods, it felt so fucking stupid that you had to smile, had to damn near laugh at yourself. As much as it sounded so foolish, you'd always just considered that maybe something was actually wrong with you. After all, he was your first, and your only—and the fact that you could never orgasm bothered you, too.

However, when you finally reopened your eyes, swallowing whatever ounces of pride you had left, you found a depth to your Captain's ocean irises that was not there before.

There was something floating inside them, now--something primal, something depraved.

"Interesting." His hand raised from his side, grazing over your cheek and coming to a slow on your neck, the tips of his fingers skimming over your racing pulse. "Broken."

Any blood that had been left in your head was now plummeting to your core.

"Broken." You whispered.

Price exhaled, his breath caressing your face, and you bit your lip to stifle the whimper that wanted to thrust itself past your teeth. Never once would you have considered the thought of actually fucking your Captain--but right here, right now, with the way he was touching you, analyzing you, palpably tempting you--it was becoming more difficult to deny the physical need steaming from your pores.

"This,” his voice was so deep it made your blood sweat, his thumb stroking your pulse. "Doesn't feel broken at all."

Adrenaline surged you, ambushing your lungs with rapid breath, flares of lust sparking over your skin. You leaned into his touch, and he let out a sound that was somewhere between a hum and a straight up growl.

Your pulse soared, your hand finding his wrist. “Captain…”

It would be lying to say you thought this was a good decision. But you couldn't find a fuck within you. After years of denying yourself any sort of physical touch due to the shame that consumed you, Price had perceived it without effort and ordered you strip yourself of pretense in his presence.

"Let me show you...." Price wedged a boot between your feet, his hips brushing yours, other hand finding your hip. "...that the only thing broken is your confidence."

You nearly whimpered. "Please."

Without further contemplation, your eyes darted to his lips the same millisecond his darted to yours, and you both moved at once. Price groaned, one hand shooting into your hair, the other supporting the small of your back, tugging you close. His hungry mouth captured yours, teeth nipping your lower lip as he spun you around and pushed you back against the table.

You groaned into his mouth, your ass hitting the cool metal with abrupt force. His lips attacked your jawline, moved down to your neck, and another groan escaped you, this time in bliss.

"Fuck," you cursed under your breath, throwing your hips into his, allowing desperation to guide you. "Captain..."

A low, menacing noise reverberated in his throat and he seized your neck again, bringing his mouth to your ear.

"My name," he took the lobe between his teeth, earning a squeak. "Say it."

"John—" You gasped, clawing at his back. "Shit."

"Mm. Good girl. So obedient..." he purred, tracing his mouth along the curve of your ear. "So responsive."

"Fuck." Every new beat of your heart brought a desperate pulse to your cunt. His fingers found your hair again, curling into a fist. "John...please..."

Your Captain hummed, just as his lips moved back to your pulse and attacked it, sucking rough rabid marks to the surface, his hips grinding against yours. Your eyelids fluttered shut, and he moved lower, releasing your head to work on removing your clothes.

Before your belt even hit the floor, he was tearing off your shirt and tugging off your bra--exposing your breasts to the cool air of the dimly lit room, surging goosebumps to life that he was quick to cover with his hands, taking the fresh tissue between them and kneading it.

"Fuck," he muttered under his breath, to himself you presumed. "You're fucking perfect."

There was one brief second of thought surrounding the notion that any one of your teammates could walk in and find the two of you here—but that thought was quickly lost as Price leant down and sucked one of your nipples into his mouth. You squealed, squeaking in pleasure, and his grip possessed your hips.

"So sensitive..." he said with a grunt. Your Captain wasn't just hungry—he was starved, more voracious by the second, spurred on by your reactions. "Fucking hell."

He leaned back, hooked his fingers under the waist of your pants and pulled, unconcerned for the ripping seams as he forced them down the curve of your thighs. Your head rung, entire body tingling. Paralyzed, you watched your Captain tear off your boots and rip your pants free, tossing them all to the side.

"Fuck me." He muttered again, returning his sights to your figure. "Look at you."

Price examined you like a meal, gaze traveling from your collarbone to your breasts, down past the curve of your belly to the swell of your hips, coming to a slow between your quivering thighs.

Adrenaline had got you this far. Reality was setting in. "Captain..."

"Shh," calloused hands found your hips, urging you back against the desk, spreading your legs further apart as he inserted himself between them. "I already told you what to call me."

You shuddered, twitching from his touch, and the corner of his lip quirked. Smouldering blue eyes searing into your skin. "John, I—"

His thumbs slid close to your heat, dipping into the crease and teasing close to the edge of your thong. Reality was a plummeting star, crashing down into your mind without regard. Nerves were consuming you, fingers digging into his biceps in attempt to stop them from shaking.

"You...what?" His voice was practically a lullaby. How something so deep could be so soothing was beyond your comprehension. "Go on, pretty thing..."

"I just..." you shifted your hips, trying to balance fear with desire. "I'm just...I don't want to disappoint you..."

Price assessed you, only for a moment, gracing your thigh with a stern yet gentle smack before trailing upward.

"Enough." It was an order. "I want you out of that beautiful mind."

He brushed his finger across your cunt, grazing over your swollen clit, and you choked, hips snapping toward him.

"Don't think..." the power in his words was intoxicating, a command given with the confidence of knowing you'd obey. He teased your clit again and you whinged, gripping him harder. "...just feel."

Before a coherent thought could enter your head, he pulled your panties to the side with two thick fingers, not giving you a second to brace for it before he used those same fingers and sank them into your tight, aching cunt.

"Oh—fuck-"

You groaned, head tossed back, walls tightening around the delicious stretch as he pried you open with slippery ease. The intensity, the fullness from just his fingers stole your breath, dizzied your mind, and you closed your eyes, trying to ignore the growling breath escaping his lungs, trying to ground yourself as much as you could.

"Christ...tight little cunts just soaked..." he was right, you were dripping. You couldn't ever remember being this wet. In truth, you couldn't ever remember being this turned on, this desperate for touch. "Tell me how that feels."

"G-oh, fuck—" any additional words you had planned on using instantly died on your tongue as Price curled inside of you, pushing deep, every coherent thought fleeing your mind with a moan. Your entire body pulsed for him, like he'd shaken every cell awake and enthralled it under his possession. "John—oh, Gods!"

It wasn't like you'd never been fingered. It'd just never felt like this.

Something about the trained motion of his hand, the skilled curl of his wrist, the attunement to your body was consuming you--the need for more only increasing as he found a perfect rhythm, fucking slow, reaching to your belly while his thumb circled your sensitive clit. Your cunt throbbed, squeezed around him, as if to coax him deeper inside of you.

"Needy little thing," an amused huff at the corner of your consciousness. You forced yourself to look at him—he was smirking. "Tell me how it feels."

Desperation was throbbing at your temples, growling and coiling in your belly—unfathomable, incredible desperation stalling your lungs. Unfamiliar, but entirely absentmindedly as Price stroked your walls, stroked your clit, and you were gasping, you were—

"So fucking good—" you were practically screaming, brain a mangled mess of aimless words. "Cap—John, I—I'm-"

His free hand seized your jaw, forcing you to look up into his eyes, his fingers still keeping their pace, your vision blurring to bliss. "You're?"

You gasped. "I’m-"

"You’re close." Fire flooded your flesh, and you mewled like a nervous, helpless animal. His grip tightened. Intensity and power radiating off him in waves. "S’ that what you want, little slut? Hm? You wanna’ fuckin’ cum for your Captain, don’t you?”

“Yes!” No thought required. “Pleasepleaseplease-“

“Mhm. That’s right, that’s right—“ he was just as gone as you were. Air rattled in your lungs like rocks. Your vision blurring as you held onto him like your life depended on it. “Cum on my fingers, darling, let me feel you.”

A scream shredded your throat, submerged in a storm of euphoria, sight whiter than the gates of heaven themselves. Convulsions wracked you, quaked to your bones, and you heaved, hunting for air while he worked you through the receding tide of your release.

“Good fuckin’ girl.” He growled, the arrogance in his tone palpable. “Look how easy that was, hm?”

Your Captian pulled his fingers from cunt and yanked you off the table by the hold on your jaw—you stumbled into him, wetness seeping down your thighs, brain given less than two seconds to process the slew of events before his slick covered fingers were at your lips and pushing past your teeth.

"The way I see it, soldier—there are two possible explanations here." He shoved his fingers deeper, reaching for the back of your throat. "Either you somehow managed to lie to me..." he pressed against you, his desire evident in the way it was jabbing against your stomach. "Or this tight little cunt has never been properly sated."

Your heart was in your feet, your lips sealed around his fingers as you held his eyes, a shade of blue so deep you'd almost thought you were staring into the depths of the ocean. His pupils were blown wide with lust, it was clear what he was getting at—and judging by the way your cunt clenched in response to his words, it was clear that you felt the same.

He pulled his fingers from your mouth, looking for a response. You gave the only words you could think of. "I didn’t lie…I’ve had sex, Captain...I’ve just never done—that.”

"Well I think I've just proven that it wasn’t due to any fault of your own." His words were backing you into a corner, an explanation that was challenging to draw yet completely impossible to now ignore. "I got you there in seconds."

Your face grew hot. “So..what are you saying?”

“I’m saying,” he assessed you, eyes looking past you, through you. “Your ex didn’t know what he was doing.” he leaned in closer, plush lips curling into a mischievous grin. “All you needed was someone who knew how to handle you.”

"Hm." The arrogance was stifling, setting you ablaze. It only made you want him more. "Cocky bastard."

"Cocky," he repeated with a raised brow. "You have no idea, princess.”

"You know what, Captain," you teased with a smirk of your own, unable to tear your sights off him. His eyes. His lips. "I think you just got lucky."

“Luck.” He chuckled—a deep, growling thing. "I don’t do luck, soldier. I do facts.” Price shifted a hand to his crotch, palming his erection through his pants as he pressed against you. “Fact one, I just gave you your first orgasm.” He was possessed, hungry, borderline rabid. “Fact two, I could do it again on my cock. If you’d like.”

And you, you were his eager, willing prey.

"Shit," you muttered, the words shooting straight to your cunt. You didn’t need any further discussion. You wanted him, and nothing could stop the next words from leaving your lips. "Please...please fuck me..."

Your Captain growled. The sweet desperation of your pleas sending him past the point of salvation. He sucked in a breath. Trapped it there—internally clutching whatever ounces of restraint he had left.

"You sure you want this?" His voice was so fucking low you almost missed it. His fingers moved to his belt, and his lips moved to your ear. "I'm not so sure you can take it."

"I'm built for combat, Captain..." you murmured with a grin, spurred on by the evidence of his throbbing desire, fingers trailing toward his belt to help him along. "I'm sure I'll be fine."

Price huffed against your jawline. Amused.

"You’re built for combat, undoubtedly..." you watched as he pulled free his thick, heavy cock. Your jaw slackened, your mouth watered. "But by the time I'm done with you, darling..." he seethed in relief as he guided his hand back and forth along his length, other one directing you back against the table. "You'll be built for me."

A sharp intake of breath found your lungs and then you were lying flat against the table, cool metal biting your backside and ripping goosebumps to the surface of your skin. You shuddered, seething in discomfort, but two strong hands made quick work to soothe them, coasting up your thighs until they found your hips, and then he stepped forward.

"Christ..." you whimpered as he loomed over you, the warm head of his cock rolling over your clit, teasing you with false thrusts, making sure you were well aware of just how long and fucking thick he was. "John..."

"Quiet." He purred, fingers digging into the flesh of your hips. "Just let me break you open."

His heavy, smooth tip pressed against your entrance and then pushed in, head just barely spearing you yet somehow still splitting your cunt with a girth that stole your breath and forced a cry from your throat. With a breathless groan he pulled out, and you squeezed your eyes shut, bracing.

He smacked your thigh again. “Look at me.” He hissed, teeth sinking into the plush of his bottom lip as you instantly obeyed. “That’s it. Eyes on me.”

There was a mere second of silence before he sank in again, entirely this time—and though you were fucking sopped and pliant and voracious, he tore you wide with a sting.

"Oh—fuck-"

You fought for air, your body trembling, fingers clawing at anything that might steady you. He’d stuffed you full with ease, lungs heaving upon impact. Both big hands tightened around you, and he slid out, driving into you again with a hidden hiss of air, earning a loud, shameless groan from your lips.

"Fucking hell.” A dark, low voice rumbled from his throat. "Tight little whore. So fucking tight—"

"You're—oh, fuck—" words died on your tongue as he pulled out, pushed in again, sucking in air through his teeth, working you wider with each plunge into your pussy. You clenched around him, and he snuffed a moan, snapping his hips. "You're fucking huge."

"Mhm, yeah," it was a shameless admission. He placed a palm on your pelvis, pressing down, feeling himself fucking into you. He leaned back slightly, drawing long, slow strokes, forcing you to quake around every inch of his length. "That's how fucking deep I'm in you."

And deep he fucking was. Every centimeter banishing the ability to do anything other than exist as a stammering sheath for his cock. It wasn't penetration—it was pervasion, it was domination. Sex had never felt this intense. Sex had never felt this fucking tranquilizing.

"Christ—Cap-John—fuck—"

Price slid out and rocked in, driving to your stomach with a stab of blissful pain. Eyes snapping shut, you gripped his arms, seething when he thrusted again, and again. Each stroke shoved a cry from your chest, tightened your walls, and this only seemed to entice him, his cock splitting you apart. You scratched at his shoulders, fighting to find yourself in the bewildering delirium.

"There we go." His voice was distant in the sea of pleasure. "Look at you. Brainless on my fucking cock."

Your response was a moan, loud and shameless, gripping onto his arms and matching his rhythm, forcing your hips to his, a plea—faster, harder, more, more. Your Captain hissed in satisfaction, and his hand snaked between you, rolling and teasing your clit.

Your vision blurred for the hundredth time. "Oh, fuck—"

Delirium ascended into ecstasy, pleasure amplified by the stretch of his dick. He fucked into you, his skin smacking yours, his breath heaving in feral huffs.

"Fucking perfect pussy," he growled through his teeth, shifting your legs together and directing both ankles over his left shoulder, his thrusts slowly slightly as you gasped and whimpered, clawing at his hips, the new position causing the head of his cock to kiss your cervix with each thrust. "Mm, fuck...this is what you needed, darling. You needed a proper fucking."

"Fuck," you replied, brain numbed by bliss. Words didn't even make sense. "Deep. So fuck—deep—"

"Fuck—take it, take it little slut." His thumb was back on your clit, swirling it in tight, fast circles, his cock fucking deep into you. "I warned you."

"John—" You needed to scream, fingers clawing at anything they could find. If you weren't broken before, you’d certainly be broken when he was done with you. "Fuck—"

Bliss burned to burst, stars swarmed your sight entirely, and you knew it, knew it was happening, knew that you were about to break. The feeling was so intense you didn't know what to do with yourself, you weren't sure if you could even get the words out to warn him.

Your eyes squeezed shut. "Fuck—I'm—I-I'm..."

"Yeah, that's right." He hissed, teeth barred, hips snapping. He already knew. "Cum for me. Cum on my fucking cock."

Lightning euphoria ripped up your spine with a shameless shriek, your climax shattering you. Your cunt milked his dick, your thighs spasming, your back reached for the ceiling, pleasure possessing your nerves.

"There we go—good little fucking slut—squeezing me so good," it seemed an eternity--he was still fucking you through it, breaking you deep, until he edged his climax. "Fucking hell."

He sputtered, pummelling your cunt with sloppy final thrusts, pouring his cum inside you, grip gouging your flesh until he descended, meeting you in the receding tides of your peaks. Both of you twitched with aftershocks, both of you seeking air.

Once he stalled, you sucked in a long inhale and peeled your eyes open, taking in your surroundings for the first time in however many minutes it had been. The room was still as dim and dreary as it was prior to your mind shattering, the only thing now different was your Captain—who remained looming over the table, cock still buried inside you, precipitation lining his forehead and chest still heaving for breath, piercing gaze perceiving you like a sated predator.

With a glance at your lips, he finally moved, pulling back and out of you, tucking himself away. It was then that reality struck you hard—you'd just fucked your Captain. And he'd just shattered the preconceived notions of everything you thought you knew.

You were not broken. You were perfectly fucking fine.

Price cleared his throat as you pulled yourself off of the table and stood. "Y'alright?"

You nodded, grabbing your pants off the floor. "Yes, Sir."

Shame engulfed you, for reasons you couldn't explain. Embarrassment threatened to swallow you whole.

"Hey." Sensing this, Price stepped forward, placing a gentle hand on your arm. "Don't do that."

Your eyes fixed on his. Outlining his perfectly tamed facial hair, his striking blue eyes. "Do what?"

"Avoid me." He simply stated, his voice hardly above a whisper. "All this was, was me proving to you that you're not broken. You're the furthest from. It doesn't have to be any more than that."

"I know…just feel stupid, I guess.” Your face was in flames. You swallowed your pride until it was digested. There was no room for that here, not after what’d just happened. “I, uh, I should have told you sooner. I’m sorry.”

Price regarded you with eyes warm as the summer sun, shaking his head ever-so-slightly. “I wanted you to open up to me. Willingly. I never pry.”

You cracked a smile, slipping on your shoes. “You got your wish, then. Emotionally and physically.”

“Aye.” Your captain chuckled, reaching for the bottle of whiskey and plopping himself into a seat, sliding a glass across the table toward you. “My turn, yeah?”

[starkwlkr]

silver springs | mark webber

thanks to everyone who voted! like my seb fic, this will only have three parts

part 2 part 3

warning: cheating

requests are closed

INSTRAGRAM

liked by sebastianvettel, landonorris and 563,377 others

yourusername congratulations oscarpiastri on your incredible sprint race win! first win in f1, but it won’t be the last!

oscarpiastri ❤️

papayafans481 DESERVED

teampiastri did anyone see the interview with david coulthard and mark webber?😭

leclerctears what happened??

teampiastri david kept bringing up y/n and mark couldn’t even say her name 🥲 he said mclaren team principal when referring to her

lewis8wdc what the fuck happened between them?🤨 i know they dated I’m guessing they ended on bad terms

op81xx girl they were gonna get married 😭 mark had the ring and even asked y/n’s family for their blessing there’s a thread on twitter about them

aussiegrit ❤️

multi21bitch you ain’t slick old man 🤨

view all 34,366 comments

UNITED STATES GRAND PRIX

Lando had scored a podium finish while Oscar had unfortunately suffered a DNF. After the podium ceremony, you were on your way back to the Mclaren garage when you heard a familiar voice. Mark was speaking with Fernando when you had walked by them. It had been years since you were that close to Mark. Of course he was in the Mclaren garage since he was Oscar’s manager, but you were a pro at avoiding Mark Webber.

You kept walking and finally made it to the garage where you congratulated the team for their effort.

“When was the last time she spoke to you?” Fernando questioned the Aussie. He was great friends with both you and Mark. He was one of many that thought you two would end up getting married. He was utterly shocked when Mark had told him that you were no longer together.

“March twenty fifth twenty thirteen. She blocked my number, she told me I couldn’t contact any of her family members either.” He explained. “I fucked up my life, Fernando.”

No one apart from Mark and you knew the reason for the break up.

“What did you do?”

“I hurt her. After Malaysia happened, y/n tried to comfort me, but I pushed her away. I stayed in the paddock late while y/n was already in our hotel room waiting for me, i told her to just go to sleep but she never listens. I was on my way back and I decided to go to a bar and I met a woman there. . . ”

It didn’t take a genius to know what would happen next.

“Shit, Mark.” Fernando mumbled.

“That’s not even the worst part, mate. I came back to our hotel room in the morning and she had her suitcase packed. She was going back home. The woman I was with had texted her from my phone and told her everything.” Mark remembered that night all too well. “She told me she never wanted to see me again . . .”

“Funny how that turned out.”

“But she also told me something else. Her doctor had called her a few days ago and told her she was pregnant. I fucked up my life all because I got mad at the result of a stupid race!”

Like everything else in the paddock, Mark’s words didn’t stay a secret for long. A rumor confirmed true traveled fast.

PRIVATE INSTAGRAM

liked by susie_wolff, clairewilliams_official and 143 others

yourprivate happy birthday, my darling 🎀✨ i look forward to your sidewalk chalk artwork everyday ❤️

susie_wolff she’s getting so big! happy birthday!

yourprivate i’m not ready for her to grow anymore🥹

clairewilliams_official what an artist!❤️

yourprivate my own little picasso ❤️

zbrownceo happy birthday 🎂 i hope she enjoyed all the gifts the team and i sent

yourprivate she loved every single one, thank you!

[theragethatisdesire]

pretty girl - jean kirschtein x afab!reader - 18+!!!

there's def more eren coming but while that's in the works please enjoy the result of the jean brainrot i experienced the other day. fair warning- it's going to get pretty rough, but that's what you asked him for ;)

pairing: reader x jean kirschtein

wc: 4.6k

DISCLAIMER: this post contains MATURE CONTENT that is intended only for those over 18. if you are a minor, please do not read below the cut.

CWs: smut, consensual hook-up, established relationship (jean's ur gorgeous bf lucky u), unprotected sex, oral sex (male receiving), face fucking, pretty rough sex, vaginal fingering, biting, dirty talk, penetrative vaginal sex, swearing, daddy kink, use of names (pretty girl, crybaby, good girl), very dom jean, multiple orgasm, dacryphilia/crying, creampie

this one was super fun and is very tasty u guys enjoy <3

-

-> be there in 5 babe :)

You are not looking forward to this, to say the least. You pace madly around your little apartment in a massive t-shirt and sweatpants covering the skimpiest lingerie set you own. It’s got all the bells and whistles: a matching garter belt, lace in all the right places, stockings that come up to where your plush thighs are the fattest. You should be looking forward to this, you tell yourself, candles lit and ambient lighting ready to go. You have a gorgeous boyfriend who’s going to “be here in five”, and you should be brimming with excitement. But…you’re just not.

Jean’s been in your life for a few months now. What had started as a run-in at the coffee shop around the corner had turned into candlelit dinners, movie marathons, and exclusive titles, and you adore him. His sandy brown hair, the tattoo on his strong bicep, pretty hazel eyes– Jean’s sexy, loving, sarcastic, attentive, literally everything you could ask for in a boyfriend. Except when it comes to your sex life, that is.

The sex isn’t bad per se, you just can’t shake the feeling that he’s holding something back from you. He’s almost too perfect; he’s gentle with you, always taking care to ask permission before touching you, chaste kisses as he slides in, hand-holding in missionary. He cums every time, immune to the whiskey-dick you’d expect from his bourbon drinking habit, so you know he’s enjoying himself, but he doesn’t always seem all there. The fire just isn’t in him, and you know he has that side to him. You’ve seen those hazel eyes you love so much blaze, in a heated argument, at the gym. Why it doesn’t happen in your intimate moments is beyond you, it’s like he’s afraid to break you, like he’s not doing everything–

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Shit, knocking on your front door is what he’s doing.

You take one last look in the mirror: hair’s casual, but still sexy, makeup to a minimum, all straps and lace covered up by your inconspicuous pajamas. Time to potentially ruin your relationship.

“Hey beautiful,” Jean greets you with an innocent smile, “you look cozy.”

“Feel cozy,” you accept his kiss, chewing on your lip as he comes in. Your heart’s pounding in your ears; poor thing has no idea what’s to come. Maybe it’ll go well, you think; false hope might be the only thing that gets you to pull through with your plan.

“Have any movie ideas for tonight? I was thinking Hereditary, but only if you’re not too chicken…” Jean raises his eyebrows, a taunting smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. Ha! If only he knew all of the things you aren’t “too chicken” for.

You smile weakly, stomach churning. “Maybe. Can we just…can we just talk for a sec?”

Jean’s playful demeanor drops instantly, replaced by a faint frown. “What about?”

You amble over to the couch, playing with the strings of your sweatpants anxiously. How the fuck are you even supposed to bring this up? Your mind’s racing so quickly it draws a blank, and before you can stop yourself, you blurt: “Sex.”

“Sex?” Jean’s cheeks tinge pink. He hasn’t shaved in probably a week, a shadow covering his sharp jawline. God, he’s gorgeous, you can’t mess this up, you really can’t.

“Yeah,” you confirm, “sex. Our sex, to be clear.”

“I figured as much,” Jean’s sat himself beside you now, one eyebrow raised suspiciously. He’s not upset, not yet, but you’ve definitely caught him off guard.

“I– I feel like we’re on different pages,” you stammer– fuck you are so bad at this, “I just feel like sometimes you’re so…gentle, and you don’t necessarily, like, have to be?”

Jean’s frowning full on now, a precious little wrinkle appearing in the center of his forehead. You’ve hurt him, and your heart sinks. Probably should have started with the pros. “Like…what do you mean, by ‘don’t have to be gentle’?”

“Our sex life is great,” you try to smile enthusiastically, as if you don’t actually want to blow your brains out right now, “please don’t think I’m saying you’re bad in bed or anything. I just, like– okay, for example, have you ever tried anything rough?”

His mouth is a flat line. “Like what?”

“Like, handcuffs, or roleplay, any of that stuff.”

“What have you tried?” His voice is even, collected, but there’s something simmering in him that you can’t put your finger on. It’s not anger, but it tastes similar, running in the same vein but not quite there. It’s your turn to feel your face warm.

“I mean, I’ve tried handcuffs before. Some light slapping, spanking.” You’re twiddling your thumbs, confessing into your lap. You can feel his eyes on you.

“That it?”

“I guess.”

“Did you…enjoy that kind of stuff?” He’s taking the bait. You finally meet his gaze and it ignites a little fire in your stomach; he’s never looked at you this intensely, brows pinched together like you’re a puzzle he’s trying to figure out. All of these little mannerisms are tells, you’re intuitive enough to know that, but exactly what he’s trying to convey you just can’t figure out.

“Yeah.”

“How rough are we talking, here?” Jean sounds deeper than normal, the slightest bit of strain to his words. That’s definitely new; Jean’s the most unshakeable person you’ve ever met.

“If I’m making you uncomfortable, I–”

“You’re not making me uncomfortable,” an easy chuckle floats out of his mouth, “just trying to feel you out is all.”

Your brows furrow. “Feel me out?”

“Yeah,” he shrugs, “I’m surprised, that’s all.”

“Surprised?” Your nose wrinkles. “Did I ever give off the impression that I was, like, super vanilla or something?”

“No,” he laughs again, a bit of the tension melting from the room, “no, not that. We’re just still pretty new, that’s all. Wasn’t going to whip out everything in my toolbox ‘til I knew you were okay with it.”

That piques your interest; you think you’d very much like to see what’s in this toolbox of his. “So you do like some of this stuff?”

Jean rolls that thought over in his mind for a beat before responding, a suspicious smirk that you can’t read tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Yeah, I guess you could say I like some of this stuff.”

“We’re back to my original question then: what do you like?”

“I’m more worried about what you like,” Jean says, “especially since you won’t come right out and say it. Gonna make me guess?”

That’s your Jean, blunt as ever. The fire in your stomach sparks and spits at the conversation, teasing and tempting. There’s something playful to his words; you can’t shake this feeling that you’re missing something, that he’s toying with you, but you like it. You let him keep pushing, see where he’s leading you. “Sure, guess.”

“Do you like…” Jean trails off, examining you with his chin nestled between his thumb and index finger, “to be dominant?”

“No.”

“Submissive, then.”

“Yeah.” He likes that, you can tell by the way his eyes glint at you. Your teeth sink into your bottom lip.

“Like to be tied up?”

“Already told you about the handcuffs.”

“I bet you have a praise kink.”

That has you flustered. There’s a sinking sensation in your stomach that you’ve underestimated him, waded out too deep into the water, but fuck it, you’re already here. “How’d you know?”

Jean smiles, pleased. “I just do. Overstimulation?”

“Sure.”

“Orgasm denial? Degradation?”

“If I deserve it.” It’s a bold answer, but it makes Jean suck in a sharp “fuck” between his teeth. Oh yes, you’ve definitely underestimated him.

“You like to be punished, don’t you?” His hand has traveled up to cup your jaw, thumb playing absentmindedly with your bottom lip. There’s an anticipatory warmth gathering between your legs, and the air between you both is practically crackling, charged by the tension thrumming through both of your bodies.

“Yes,” it comes out in a breath, almost pathetic, but you can’t help yourself. He looks so good, always does, and now he’s grazing his eyes over you like he wants to take a bite.

“You know how safewords work?” You nod a bit too eagerly. “Ours is going to be red, okay?”

“Okay,” you’re agreeing, but you aren’t entirely sure what to, caught up in the soft rubbing of his thumb over your mouth.

“If your mouth is,” a deep breath shakes through his frame, “occupied, give me a sharp pinch with your nails.”

“I can do that,” the tension between you is palpable now, the room’s so hot that you’re surprised your wallpaper isn’t peeling off.

“Go to your room,” Jean releases you, eyes dark and hungry, “take your clothes off and wait for me on the bed. I’ll be in soon.”

You follow his instructions without thinking twice, as if a switch has flipped in your brain. Maybe it was his tone, an authoritative way of speaking that threatens consequence, or maybe you’re just so ready to see what this perfect boyfriend of yours has been hiding all this time. As you’re getting undressed, you realize he still doesn't know about your lingerie. You bite back a smile, kneeling on the bed. This is going to be so good.

A minute or so ticks by slowly, and just when your legs are starting to ache, Jean’s entering your room. His face darkens in a way you’ve never seen before when he sees your little get up; lightning shoots through your core.

“Put on a pretty outfit just for me?”

“Mhm,” you hum.

“That’s good,” he says in that slow drawl of his, “good girl.”

He’s only testing the waters, but you can feel your body viscerally react to the little pet name, shifting on your knees to mask your desperate attempt for friction, dampness spreading in your panties. Jean sees right through your act, smirking.

Jean joins you in undressing, slipping his shirt over his head. You take your time admiring his torso; miles of long, lean muscle, little ripples by his ribs trailing into a ridiculous six-pack. Jean’s a confessed gym rat, and it shows in every little line along his body. You have to blink and look away before you start salivating.

“Ah, ah, ah,” Jean scolds, tilting your head up towards him, “eyes on me, got it?”

“Got it,” you answer. Jean frowns.

“That’s not very nice,” he says, “try again.”

You go out on a limb. “Yes, sir.”

Jean’s eyes glint again in that mean, pretty way you saw earlier. You did good, you did good for him. “Much better. Get on the floor.”

You slide off of your mattress, practically buzzing with anticipation, settling on your knees in front of him. A low groan rumbles in Jean’s chest.

“Look so good like that, my pretty girl.”

Oh, you really like that, nuzzling against his hand on your head. Jean smiles down at you, inching his pants down until that little thatch of brown hair starts revealing itself. “Open up for me, nice and wide.”

Your jaw’s dropped, mouth open and tongue out, expectant. Jean smiles wider, sharp and dangerous, pulling his cock out for you. He taps the head against your tongue a few times, even slaps you with it, facade faltering for a fraction of a second to gauge your reaction. You’re good for him, sitting still and patient with your mouth still open, a drop of drool starting to slide off the end of your tongue. Jean makes a sound that’s somewhere between a groan and a chuckle.

“Oh, you’re an obedient little thing, aren’t you?” Your panties grow impossibly wetter, you wiggle on your thighs under him, earning yourself another slap of his cock on your tongue, heavy and drooling. “Gonna fuck this pretty face, okay?”

You close your mouth around his head, sucking lightly to show your approval. He’s not even touched you, not so much as a kiss, and your brain’s foggy, running like a hamster on a wheel chasing the circular thought of be good, be good, be good. Jean grabs your hair none-too-gently, tugging it at the roots, and starts canting his hips towards your mouth, muttering under his breath about how good you are, how good your mouth feels on him.

You lower your jaw ever so slightly, and before long, Jean’s picking up speed, knocking your gag reflex here and there and making you cough around him. He doesn’t seem overly concerned; in fact, he grins cruelly down at you when he hits an extra-sensitive spot, making you hunch and gag on him.

“Look at my pretty girl, so happy getting her mouth fucked,” he hisses when you moan around him, feeling the vibrations up his cock. He’s moving faster now, rougher than he’s ever been. You’re gagging with some regularity, tears welling up in your eyes and threatening to spill down your cheeks. You expect him to let up, give you some air, but it only spurs him on, and before you know it, there are thick streams of tears running down your face. Your jaw aches, your knees burn, but you stay, letting him use you how he pleases.

“Fucking crying on me,” Jean growls, “my cock too much for you?”

You try to answer with a shake of your head, but he’s relentless, fingers tightening in your hair and cock shoving to the back of your throat, making you retch.

“No, you love it, don’t you? My little crybaby.”

You’re so wet you can feel it gathering on the insides of your thighs, entirely soaked through your panties. You move your hips subtly, this way and that, desperate for friction. Jean notices, pulling out of your mouth but staying connected by a string of your spit.

“You squirming, pretty girl? Need some attention?”

“Yes, sir,” you rasp, nodding eagerly. Jean helps you up onto the bed, lays you back against his chest facing the mirror on top of your wardrobe. It’s a terribly lewd sight; you spread out in front of him, face swollen and teary, the telltale glisten of wetness glittering on your thighs.

Jean slides a hand down your body, rubbing you over your panties and nibbling at your ear. “You’re gonna watch me make you cum, and if I see you look away, I’m fucking you ‘til I cum, and you’re not getting a damn thing. Got it?”

“Yes, sir,” your voice wobbles pathetically. Jean seems to like it; his cock twitches in interest against your back. He pushes your panties to the side, flicking his fingers faster over your clit. Embarrassingly enough, you’re already nearing your halfway point from the face-fucking, moaning and grinding up into his palm.

“Need something?”

“Mhm,” you grit out, jaw clenched. Jean slaps your pussy; not too hard, but firm enough to make you jolt, bring you a moment of clarity.

“Manners,” he reminds you sharply.

“I’m sorry, I– can I please have a finger?”

Jean’s placated, slides one finger into you and laughs hot against your neck at the obscene sound that tears from your throat. “What do we say when we get what we ask for?”

“Thank you– fuck, thank you,” your words are coming out in puffs of breathe. Jean has long, skilled fingers, a fact you’re already familiar with, but the position he’s put you in has you dripping onto the sheets: forcing you to watch as he pumps in and out of you, grinding into your clit with the heel of his hand. You’ll be lucky if you last another minute.

“Feels good, doesn’t it? My pretty girl likes being full, right?” Jean murmurs, hot against the shell of your ear. “Tell me.”

“Yes, sir, I– I like it, I need– fuck!”

“What do you need?” Jean coos, entertained, as if he’s not unraveling you with just the one.

“I want one m-more finger, please,” you stutter, relieved you’re able to get the words out at all.

“Learning so fast,” Jean kisses your shoulder, granting your wish. His fingers are thick, the slight stretch making you throw your head back against his shoulder, hips rolling into his hand of their own accord. “Still looking?”

You force your head back to its upright position, mindful of the threat in his tone. His fingers work faster at your obedience, curling insistently against the gummy spot inside your walls that makes you see stars, makes you a little out of your mind with need. It’s that out-of-mind dizziness in your head that causes your little slip-up:

“Fuck, please, more- more, Daddy.”

Jean’s fingers still; it’s not until you’re halfway into a whine of disappointment that you realize what you’ve said. Your face burns; you meet his eyes in the mirror, yours shot wide and embarrassed. You trip over your words, trying to explain yourself. That definitely hadn’t been mentioned in your earlier conversation.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to say that, I just–”

“Just what? Already so fucked out you can’t think straight?” Jean curls his fingers pointedly against your walls, punching a groan from your chest.

“Yeah,” you sigh, head growing cloudy again.

“Say it again.” That definitely isn’t what you expect to hear him mutter against your neck. Jean works a third finger into your cunt with some difficulty, stretching you to your limits. “Fucking say it, or you’re not cumming.”

“Oh my God, D-Daddy,” your cries are pathetic, punctuated by whimpers. The bubble in your stomach is about to pop, the tension growing unbearable. You’re almost there, grinding into his hand pitifully and babbling, when Jean takes one of his hands to grab your throat roughly. He holds you captive, staring at your own stretched cunt on display for you in the mirror.

“Good, good girl,” he says, “now watch Daddy make you cum.”

The band inside you snaps viciously; your back arches away from him, and you squirt, gushing all over your bed sheets, inhuman sounds tearing from your throat where you struggle under his hand. Jean’s working you through the whole thing, still steadily pumping his fingers and whispering dirty little nothings into your ear. It finally begins to quiet, overstimulation washing over you. You push urgently at his wrist, mumbling something or other about “too much, too much”.

Jean mercifully obliges, pulling his hand from you with a shameful sucking sound, giving your pussy another light slap.

“Such a good girl for me, yeah? How you feelin’?”

“Good, so good,” you slur, “I’ve never– never…”

“Never squirted?” Jean’s eyebrows shoot up at your answering nod before a smug expression settles over his face. “Such a fun little toy, aren’t you? Just wait, you’ll get used to it soon enough.”

Your cunt clenches around nothing; so he can make you do that? Again? Jean’s slid out from behind you and is repositioning your limp body, dragging you down the bed by your ankles to line you up with his cock. He bends your knees up, pressing them close to your head. Jesus, he’s going to kill you at this rate.

“Want me to fuck you?”

“Please,” you hate the begging lilt to your voice, but you’re beyond fighting it. You gave up the reins a long time ago when you knelt for him, let him call you a good girl, let him fuck your throat.

“I’ve got you, pretty girl, Daddy’s gotcha,” Jean starts bullying his way into your pussy, still tight and pulsing from your orgasm. “Shit, got a tight little cunt, don’t you? Feels so good– fuck.”

You’re simpering under him, barely able to process the stretch of his cock in you. He’s well-endowed and you’re overwhelmed, a dizzying combination for your fucked-out brain to handle. Just when you think he might be in your throat he’s so deep in you, his hips press to the back of your thighs, both of you letting out a long groan at the feeling.

“So pretty,” Jean muses, not moving yet, just placing a thumb on your clit and absentmindedly playing with it, “such a beautiful pussy.”

You whine, frustrated. He glares at you, landing a harsh smack to your inner thigh.

“I’m not going to warn you again.”

“Please fuck me, oh God, please,” you pant, past the point of humility. Jean licks his lips, presses his palms deep into the backs of your knees, practically folding you in half. He gives you what you ask for.

You’re jolted back and forth on the mattress, mouth hung open in a silent scream as he splits you open on him, forces every inch deep into you. His tip’s kissing your cervix, pain blooming in your abdomen, but you don’t even care, so lost in the rhythm of his hips.

“Jean, I– oh my God,” you try to tell him how good he feels, but all you get is a firm hand around your throat.

“Who’s fucking this pretty cunt up, hm? Fucking you good and deep? Who is it?”

“Daddy,” you choke out, breathless, “Daddy’s.”

“There you go,” Jean’s focused on where you’re connected, eyes never leaving the frothy white ring forming around the base of his cock. You’re crying again, vaguely aware of the streams of tears running down your temples, into your hairline, but fuck, he just feels so good your brain can’t even process it. Jean takes notice, wipes one of your tears and licks it off of his thumb. “Cute fucking crybaby, all happy and cockdrunk, aren’t you?”

You whimper some semblance of an agreement, feeling the band of tension in you already getting stretched to a breaking point. He’s at an angle that allows him to hammer into the most delicious spot inside of you, rubbing against it with each thrust.

“Gonna cum soon, I– I’m gonna cum soon,” you manage, locking his gaze.

“Let me feel it, go on, do it for me,” Jean pants, squeezing your neck tighter. The lack of air goes to your head; the room spins until all you can focus on is him pounding into you. You cum violently, throbbing around his cock, thrashing against his strong arms. Jean fucks you through it, never losing his pace. “Good fucking girl, just like that.”

You’re practically wheezing as your senses return to you, clawing at Jean’s arm on your throat. He lets up on your neck, smiling down at you. “Feel good?”

“Mhm,” you hum, blissed out and half-asleep until Jean flips you, forcing you to prop up on your hands and knees. “Wait, Jean–”

“Wait?” Jean scoffs, sliding back into you. You let out a little cry, and he smacks your ass sharply. “This is what you asked for, right? Said I was being too nice to you.”

“I didn’t– oh my god…” your eyes roll back into your head, a well-placed thrust cutting your words off. “It’s so…it’s so much, Jean.”

Jean lands three more sharp slaps to your ass, already thrusting into you at a brutal pace. “What was that?”

“T-too much, Daddy,” you collapse, face shoved into the bed to mask the pitiful cries leaving your mouth. It is too much; if you tuck your chin to your chest, you can see a little bulge in your tummy where he’s fucking into you, another orgasm already building in the pit of your stomach. You feel like you might pass out if he makes you cum again, but he’s ruthless.

“Too much?” Jean coos, fisting your hair to turn your face. He’s glaring down at you. “You were practically begging me for it, and my pretty girl gets what she wants, right? Said you wanted it rough, so you’re going to fucking take it.”

You nod miserably, fat tears rolling down your cheeks. Jean hisses when you clamp down around him. “Squeezing me so goddamn tight, this pussy.”

You feel a hand start thrumming insistently against your clit and nearly shriek; your pussy’s so swollen, so sensitive already. You claw at the bedsheets, feeling something warm and wet swelling inside of you.

“Daddy, I– fuck, it’s, it’s–”

“Gonna make you squirt again,” it’s a promise from behind your ear, “you’re gonna squirt on my cock and Daddy’ll cum for you, okay?”

“I can’t, I–” you’re wailing, words cut off by your own moans. Jean loves it, you can feel his thrusts growing more urgent against your hips, so deep in you you could choke.

“You can,” he corrects you, hand moving faster, “want Daddy to cum in you?”

“Yes, please, p-please,” You cry, letting him use you as he wishes. 

“I’ll give it to you, gotta cum first, you can do that, can’t you? Taking me so well, pretty girl, just need you to cum one more time for me.”

“Uh-huh,” the edges of your vision are starting to close in. He’s ruthless, hips slamming into yours hard enough to bruise, cock stretching you out so nicely, you can’t hold it, but you know, somewhere deep in this primal part of your brain, you need to be good, need to ask him. “Need to cum, Daddy, please– please let me, I–”

“Go ahead,” Jean shushes you, hips moving impossibly faster, “be a good girl, let me feel it.”

That tips you over the edge and Jean makes good on his promise; your cum is dripping out of you, spraying onto his thighs and ruining your sheets. You’re thrashing your head back and forth and sobbing through your orgasm, pinned and powerless under him. Jean swears at the vice-like grip you have on him; it doesn’t take him long to follow suit, pressing himself as deep as he can go, cumming in you. He bends over you as he does, grabbing your jaw and forcing you to him, kissing you hard in a mess of tongue and teeth. You feel it warming your stomach, moaning appreciatively until you both collapse in a sweaty mess of limbs, gasping for breath and clutching onto one another.

Jean allows himself a few moments to catch his breath, and then he’s pulling out of you, leaving you empty and whimpering. He shushes you, holding you close to his chest and letting you work through the intense session in his arms. You’ve never been so fucked out, nuzzling into his chest and simply letting him hold you, letting the aftershocks wrack through your sore body. After a few minutes you’re coming to; the haze begins to lift, and you peek up at him, unsure of where to start after…that.

“You okay?”

You turn the words over in your mouth before you can get them out, still feeling a bit like you’re floating. “Yeah, yeah, I’m okay. That was…wow.”

Jean, the man that just held you down and forced what were probably life-threatening orgasms out of you, blushes. “Yeah, it was really something.”

“Yeah, it was,” you agree, giggling despite yourself. Your mind is still a little cloudy, a little soft after everything. “But it was good. So good.”

“Yeah?” Jean grins, hoisting you up into his lap so you can both sit up, still cradling you to his chest. “Not too gentle, was I?”

Your face grows hot, you want to hide it behind your hands. “No, not too gentle.”

“You were right earlier,” he admits, “I was definitely holding out on you just because the way I like to…I mean, I don’t think I need to get too into it, you were there. It can be a lot. Didn’t want to push you too far.”

You hum contentedly, playing with the little gold chain he always wears. “I understand that now, but I’m a big girl. I can handle whatever you want to give me, promise.”

“Don’t say that,” Jean groans, “too tired for round two.”

Your hand falls into the mess between your thighs, and you wince. “Maybe after a shower?”

“Greedy,” Jean tuts, scooping you up with him to make the journey over to your bathroom, “my greedy, pretty girl.”

[x-hotoke]

HEADCANNON jjk men as your sister's ex-boyfriend

writer's note: male reader insert !! PART 1 >,<

warnings: slight yandere themes, stalking, possessiveness, toxic relationships, use of you/your pronouns, cussing.

characters: gojo satoru, geto suguru, nanami kento, choso, itadori yuji.

— GOJO SATORU

You warned your sister about him yet she never did take anything you say seriously because you were her younger brother. Who are you to say who she can't and can date?

At first, their relationship was going great — he also spoiled you along with your sister which you didn't like. His cocky and egotistical personality is what you hated about him. His constant reminder that he bought that for you, irritated you to the point you have been throwing them discreetly.

He would call you a bunch of nicknames like brother-in-law, y/n chan (to piss you off), otōto-kun.

Whenever he would visit, you would purposely make him look bad in front of your sister, trying to make him angry at you so she can see his true colors. But he was calm — would always humor you, it's like he knows you're trying to get a rise out of him.

After a while, both of them started to drift apart from each other; resulting in a break up — he tried to salvage their relationship by making her go to his house and 'talk it out', luckily you were there trying to comfort her. Seeing the notifications from him, you deleted the messages and blocked him from her phone.

As days went on, unknown phone numbers started calling and messaging the two of you — mostly your sister. Begging for her to come back, and that they'll talk it out and fix it. But oh - for you? They were horrible — you were terrified of going outside. Only going out whenever you were with your father. You don't let your sister go out too, in fear — that Satoru will make his messages come true.

The messages ranged from being sweet to an absolute creepy obsessed guy. It went from:

“How's your sister doing, y/n chan?" “Can you tell her to reply to me soon?” “I miss you guys:((” “When can I see you guys again?” “I hope you're taking care of yourself and your sister well (:”

To; “i will make your lives a living hell, do you hear me? I will fucking ruin your lives.” “No one will believe any of you.” “is that your friends that you're with?” “tell your sister to reply or else i will plaster her face, no, her fucking body on the billboards.” “You look cute when you sleep, otōto kun.”

You didn't feel safe in your own house anymore, did he break in your room? Paranoia affected your high school life — constantly looking over the shoulder. Heck, you would freeze whenever someone with the same blue eyes as him stared at you for too long.

Your sister was overjoyed when she got a message from Satoru — apologizing on how he acted towards her and you. You didn't bring up the messages he would send you during family dinner in fear that your parents would get roped in the situation you were in.

Months went by, your parents said that they have a guest coming in — a friend of your sister. You were in the living room watching some show you were interested in before the door bell rang.

“Satoru! It's nice of you to stop by.” Your sister claims, ushering the tall male to take the seat to you. You weren't aware that he was the guest, oh how you wanted to run upstairs to your bedroom just to get away from this freak. She forgave him?

“Y/n chan, long time no see.” Satoru spoke, his piercing blue eyes staring at the top of your head as you looked at your lap, glaring. “Y/n, you should at least reply - you know?” Your sister huffed out, the bags under her eyes were gone unlike yours.

“It’s fine, really. I'm just glad to see you again.” Satoru waved her off, throwing his right arm around your shoulders as he leaned in next to your face. “No way of getting out of this one huh, otōto kun?” He whispered into your ear, making the hair at the back of your neck stand. There's no escaping this one. “Move and they die.”

His feelings were gone — the obsession he had for your sister moved onto you.

— GETO SUGURU

He was a sweet guy, you actually almost liked him for your twin sister. Keyword: almost.

You hated the man afterwards — His true colors showing once their relationship got serious, you would hear how he would talk to your sister — calling people; monkeys. Berating her for having a different opinion than him and constantly hovering over her shoulder.

You had enough and stormed inside her room, yelling for him to get out or you'll drag him by his hair out the front door. The man complied — once he got close to you, he smiled. It wasn't sincere — it looked psychotic.

The next few days went horrible, Suguru kept on coming back and every time he would — you would answer the door.

“Some nerve of you to show your fucking face here.” You scowled, feeling a shiver go up your spine — seeing the guy smile makes you want to hide yourself. He chuckles, a glint in his eyes catching your gaze, you don't know what it was but you don't intend on finding out.

“I’m here to visit s/n, so if you would be a dear — please call her, love.” He closed his eyes as he smiled even wider. You felt disgusted by his behaviour. “Don't ever call me that again, you freak!” You shouted.

“Fuck off — you two broke up days ago! If I ever fuckin’ see you again around our house, I'll make sure you'll regret it.” You added, closing the door harshly in his face. He didn't do anything, just stood there for a few seconds before turning around and leaving.

As you have read, he likes calling you nicknames. Such as; love, dear, anything that can make your blood boil. He knows you hate him so why not put more gasoline in the fire?

Days passed and you were hanging out with a few friends. You left your sister with your parents to catch up with the rest of your friends. It's been a long time.

You shared some laughs with your friends before noticing something in the corner of your eye. A man dressed in a black sweater and sweatpants amidst the hot season, you couldn't shake off the feeling of paranoia and fear running through your veins. You didn't let that ruin the fun — and yet still keeping an eye on him who was sitting on a bench. But it could just be your imagination.

A few months went by and your sister brought Suguru home. Claiming that he was getting therapy and whatever help he could get. But nothing would suffice the Polaroid pictures of your sister and you in his personalized room. No one can save him.

His second plan — plan B, if your sister was still holding her ground and not taking his advances towards her — he would take you instead. To fill in her spot, her twin. You're her twin after all aren't you? Basically her look alike. That's what he likes about the two of you.

You heard from your mother that your sister has gotten back together with him. You argued with her that night — something you regretted on the next day.

She was gone. Her drawers were laying on the floor scattered — some clothes looked like they were thrown around carelessly and her bags were nowhere to be found. Did she run away? If so — then where. The police filed her in as a runaway but they did still look for her with fruitless attempts.

You would cry in her room for days, curling up in her bed and looking through all her stuff. You stumbled across her diary which had a few disturbing things. Your breath hitched as you read it. She didn't run away — suguru wasn't going to therapy either. It was all a set up, the last pages contained;

He's here.

You froze hearing the window creak open. You didn't have time to react before a black garbage plastic bag was placed over your head.

[endless-ineffabilities]

The Bolter (part one)

Steve Rogers x f!Reader

synopsis : Steve carries out his decision to return to Peggy, aiming to live out the rest of his days with her. But this means he's leaving everything behind - he's leaving you. Did he make the right choice? Will there be anything left with you to come back to?

in this chapter : Steve is about to walk out of your life, causing you to let go of everything you two have, and everything that could be.

📝 yes, the title is inspired by Taylor Swift's upcoming song The Bolter. In my interpretation and in this story, it is meant to symbolize someone who runs from someone or something. A potential relationship. A loved one. And the choice is not easy, one that may bring a lot of remorse or catharsis? Anyhow - Steve IS a bolter. In the beginning, at least.

themes/warnings : language, angst!!!, pining, unrequited love, Steve is kind of an asshole for leaving (but we love him anyway)

word count : < 1k

main masterlist ▪︎ series masterlist ▪︎ next chapter

This is it.

This must be what true heartbreak feels like.

Steve, your best friend and the unrequited love of your life, has decided to volunteer to return the Infinity Stones to their respective timelines. Very noble of him.

But he also confessed that he plans to stay with Peggy, now that he finally has the chance.

They can have the dance that was stolen from them, decades ago.

Steve can be with his true love it seems. And that person is just not you.

Well, fuck my life.

"Doll," he smiles ruefully, both of your hands encased in his, "say something."

Say something, he says. What is there to say - I'm in love with you, I want you to stay with me? Don't leave me? I want you stay - for Bucky, for Sam, for Nat. For everyone. For me?

What can you fucking say that will ever be enough? In the 7 years that you've known Steve, you've grown to love him. As a friend, as family. Then, almost inevitably, as the only keeper of your heart. And he knows this.

But he's still leaving. Because, at the end of the day, Peggy is the keeper of his heart.

To you, Steve has always been everything good. Golden boy perfection, with a heart that would put a saint's to shame. Sunshine, laughter, companionship, standing tall and unwavering in his ideals. His gleaming red, white, and blue tendrils snaking their way into the very fibres of your being and taking root.

But now, all you feel is empty. You were angry, when he first told you, days ago. You had almost screamed at him, told him how unfair he was being. You made a long, drawn-out case for Bucky. How he doesn't deserve this. But really, you were making a case for yourself.

Stay, you had said.

He simply smiled, without any mirth. Not like his usual on-brand Steve Rogers gesture of sincerity. He smiled and it did not reach his eyes. He was sad, or maybe he pitied you. And that made you even angrier.

Until minutes later, when you finally broke down, and sobbed quietly in his arms.

"I hate you," you muttered against the creases of his shirt.

"I love you," he said back, and you hated him even more for it. He doesn't get to say that to you, in that way. Not in the same way he would say to Peggy.

Now, right before stepping onto the platform that will cause him to vanish from your life, he says it again.

"You do know that I love you, right?" His smile is genuine, if not a little nervous. He hoped you would be as accepting as Bucky, and send him off with just a rueful look. A gentle, final word. A sweet farewell that he can take with him as a reminder of all the times you spent together.

"I know," you breathe, relenting. Steve does not like that your eyes are glazed over, empty. Like you're not taking him in at all. You take notice of the resulting sag in his shoulders, out of character from the dignified stride he sported as he was saying goodbye to the others.

A big part of you wants to remain indignant. So what if he's hurt or uncomfortable due to your coldness? It serves him right.

"Come here," he whispers, and it comes across a silent plea. Come here? Will you, please?

You take just one small step closer, but he is already ahead, wrapping his arms around your frame. Your stony mask breaks as your cheek presses against his chest, away from his view. His chest plate glistens from your tears, but you don't have it in you to wipe them away.

When he pulls away to look down at you, his heart breaks. He cradles your face in his hands as you look up at him through wet eyelashes, and it's almost enough to make him consider staying.

But then you say, "It will all be okay, Steve." You gingerly pry his hands from your cheeks, giving them a comforting squeeze. "We will be okay."

You look behind you, where Bucky stands watching the exchange, and he offers an encouraging nod.

You take a step back, mustering everything that you possibly can, all the love you have for Steve, to give him one last genuine smile.

"Go get your girl."

Read part two here.

The way I was making myself upset while writing this - god I love angst!!! ~~~

I was gonna keep going, make it even more brutal, but I'll save that for the upcoming parts. It will have some Bucky x reader as well 🖤

God Bless America('s ass).

oh, and let me know if you wish to be tagged!

[purple-babygirl]

in the far corner of the forest IV

Pairing: Orc!Bucky Barnes x human!f!reader

Word Count: 6,540

Summary: For the longest time, the kingdom has used Bucky as their number one fighter, forcing him to win their wars for them. The only thing he asked for in return after he was done was that they give him a wife, and they did. They handed him the orphan he picked on a silver platter; it wasn't like anyone would miss her. It would've been perfect if she actually wanted to be there though.

Warnings: mentions of hand injury, idiots in love, feels, jealousy, racism against orcs, angry behaviour, shouting, fight gets slightly physical, bruised arm, crying, angst (i'm sorry). I think that's all.

A/N: good news result in long chapters. thank you from the bottom of my heart for everyone who has wished me good luck with my interview, you guys are angels. please enjoyxx💜💜

~

“You’re in love.”

“I’m what now!?” Bucky chuckled dismissively as he dropped his axe.

Bucky had spent half a day at home, refraining from going to work because of his hand’s condition, but as much as he loved staying home with her, he knew he wasn’t made to take a break.

So he thought he would visit, talk to Sam for a bit and maybe get some pent up ‘feelings’ out on some tree logs. His metal arm was still working just fine after all.

“I said, you’re in love with your human wife,” Sam repeated, smiling so warmly that Bucky wanted to smack him.

“I got her a few weeks ago.” Bucky shook his head in denial of the mere idea of him falling for anyone, let alone a human.

He did love Sam and Sarah, but that was it. They were the only humans he could tolerate. He hated the rest of them. Hell, he hated the human half of himself.

Bucky was just trying to make life easier for himself, that was all. He has been through enough conflicts and he didn’t need this in his marriage too. He deserved to live a normal life like everybody else.

Yes, he was courting her, and maybe he did constantly crave the feel of her body against his ever since she let him hug her the night of the injury, and he was definitely getting hopeful now that she hadn’t tried to run for a whole half day, but that didn’t mean he was in love! Did it?

“And now you’re in love with her.” Sam smirked, knowing how much it drove Bucky crazy that a female human had him on his knees for her love.

“Quit saying that!” Bucky stood up, ready to walk away from his annoying friend.

“Why does it make you so angry that you’re in lo—”

“Don’t,” Bucky warned him, eyes angry and glaring.

“—ve?”

“I am not in love with her, okay! She’s human! Plus, that girl drives me crazy! Do you know how many times I had to bring her back after she’d tried to run in the first two weeks? Five fucking times! That’s almost once every two days, Sam. And she only had one foot working!” Bucky ranted heatedly, desperate to negate his best friend’s theory.

Was he in love with her? And if Sam could see it, did that mean she could too?

“Well, why do you care to bring her back? Why not just let her run?” Sam shrugged, internally dying for Bucky to acknowledge his feelings.

“She could die out there! Humans are weak.”

“So?” Sam probed, intentionally ignoring Bucky’s remark about humans’ strength.

“So— so I signed all those things when she was offered to me. She can’t— I can’t—”

“You can’t?”

“I can’t let her get hurt,” Bucky admitted lowly, sitting down on a log with a loud sigh.

“Why does that make you so upset?” Sam dug deeper.

“Because I think you’re right. I think I might be in love with her.” Bucky rubbed his eye with his good hand, pushing his hair back angrily.

“And?”

“And she thinks I’m the devil.” Bucky’s face fell to his palms.

“Did she ever say that to you out loud?” Sam asked, touching the end of his sharpened blade.

“She doesn’t need to, Sam. I see it in her eyes every time I find her after she’d tried to run away.” Bucky’s voice was broken like his friend has never heard before.

“I thought you said everything was better after your injury?”

“Yeah, but that’s not gonna last forever.” Bucky gave a sad grin, “she’s soon gonna go back to seeing me the same as before.”

“Well, it’s up to you to change her mind, Buck.” Sam patted his friend’s shoulder, giving a squeeze.

Bucky sighed once more before getting up.

Sam was a human. A very handsome one with much less scars and non-icy skin. He would never understand. It would never work. She hated him.

He could continue trying, but it wouldn’t change anything of the way she felt about him and their marriage. She had told him time and time again how she felt about both.

“Going home already?”

“Yeah, I can’t miss the running away bit. It’s my favourite,” he sighed, Sam's laugh trailing behind him.

“Smile at her for a change.”

“Shut up.” I do smile at her. I only ever smile at her.

“Sarah loved the jam by the way!” Sam yelled.

“I’ll let her know!” Bucky yelled back before exhaling sadly.

Sam would never understand. Her taking pity on him those past couple of hours was nothing more than sympathy and likely even guilt.

Sam would never understand that of all the eyes in the world, it seems like Bucky has managed to fall for the only ones that knew how to hurt him, the eyes that would only look at him as a disgusting, frightening monster.

~

When Bucky got home, everything was creepily in place. His door was closed like he had left it and he actually had to use his key to open it for the first time in a while.

Stepping inside, the warm smell of roast chicken welcomed him back.

The house was warm because all the windows were actually shut, too. It was all so calm and homely; the orc was seriously worried.

And then he heard it: his human wife’s sweet voice, humming the melody of a song unfamiliar to him. It sounded like it was coming from the kitchen.

Bucky carefully shut the door behind him, not wanting her peaceful mood to end so soon as he tried to take lighter steps to where she was.

Much to his dismay though, she needed something from the other side of the kitchen and when she turned around she saw Bucky and gasped, jumping embarrassingly high.

“You scared me!” She whined, holding a hand to her heart.

“Sorry.” Bucky smirked, entertained by how cute she looked when startled.

“Welcome home,” she mumbled with a bit-back grin, holding onto his forearms before getting on her tiptoes to plant a kiss on Bucky’s cheek.

She never told him, but she was unbelievably thankful when he didn’t specify which type of kiss he expected weeks ago, and even more thankful when he didn’t object to her pecking his cheek before burying herself under the covers.

Life with Bucky has gotten undeniably familiar lately and leaving him was all of a sudden an idea that didn’t interest her as much as before.

Everything he was saying and doing has brought her closer to him without her even comprehending it.

As the days passed, she had realized running away was too exhausting, too risky, and for what? It wasn’t like she had a home to run to or a treasure buried somewhere or a lover worth escaping her orc for.

Her orc.

Hers.

A word she never felt the meaning of until the day Bucky made her his wife.

Bucky was the first and only one to present to her a taste of something she has never had: the feeling of exclusively owning things.

The smile that graced her face when she brushed her hair the first time with the brush Bucky got her was new and unprecedented.

Her brush, he called it.

Her shoes. Her chair. Her towel. Her clothes. Her books. Her side of the bed. Her cottage. Her kitchen.

And her husband.

Everything was brand new and completely hers.

Nothing was handed down to her, nothing was used before the minute her fingers had touched it. None of the things Bucky gifted her had previous owners, including him and his heart.

Most importantly, she didn’t have to share any of it with anybody.

“You’re home,” Bucky said, a surprised yet very happy smile lighting up his handsome features.

“I thought the wife was supposed to say that,” she replied playfully, going back to the bubbling pot.

Bucky raised his eyebrows at the good mood she seemed to be in. He was liking this.

He watched her sprinkle some black pepper into the soup as he came behind her.

She could feel the heat of his body surrounding her even when they weren’t touching and it had her heartbeat going crazy.

“Thank you, little human,” Bucky whispered, before he leaned down and pecked her cheek as well, his stubble and blunt tusks tickling her jaw.

She felt her whole body jolt with electricity at the simple graze of his lips and tusks on her skin as she closed her eyes.

Bucky left the kitchen and went to the bathroom but she was still hot as if his warmth never left her.

And when she opened her eyes and absentmindedly reached her fingertips to touch her cheek, she found herself smiling too.

What was happening to her? What was this foreign feeling lifting her off of her feet in the middle of the kitchen?

“Sam’s sister loved your strawberry jam by the way!” Bucky shouted to her from the bathroom, making her jump again before smiling to herself.

He didn’t use Sarah’s name on purpose, not wanting to ruin her happy mood as he had noticed how angry she got every time he would say it.

“I’ll make her more tomorrow!” She replied with a grin, proud of her hand’s work, her jealousy long forgotten after Bucky’s words of the night before.

After all, how could she be jealous when she was the one that Bucky was looking at like that?

~

When she finished setting up the table and Bucky didn’t come out of the bathroom, she got a little worried.

He never took too long during his showers, and now that he only had one arm to use, she thought he would cut his showers even shorter.

What if his wound was bleeding again and he didn’t want to tell her and was trying to fix it by himself inside the bathroom? She knew she should have stopped him from going to the yard!

“Bucky.” She knocked on the door softly, wanting to make sure he was okay.

“Yes, little human?” Bucky instantly opened the door for her.

And he looked like a dream.

Steam has surrounded him inside the bathroom, water drops from his still-wet hair dripping down his muscular, bare chest and for the first time since Bucky has been naked around her, she found herself looking at him. Actually looking.

Bucky’s chest was so broad, beefy and ribbed down to his abdomen. Scars of all sizes and shapes littered the beautiful, icy greyish skin, a reminder of the battles he had fought and all the sacrifices he had made.

Her heart clenched at the sight, a pang of sympathy coursing through her as she could only imagine the pain he must have had to endure.

Still, she found her hands tingling in curiosity, desperate to know what tracing the healed skin would feel like under her fingertips.

Bucky was a sight for sore eyes, a sight that both captivated and unnerved her, stirring a flurry of unfamiliar emotions in her chest that she struggled to contain.

She averted her gaze, feeling a wave of embarrassment wash over her at the unexpected intimacy of the moment.

“Are—” she chocked, her voice barely above a whisper as she coughed it out, “are you okay? You took a while.”

“Yeah, I’m just having a hard time drying up my hair with one arm,” Bucky reassured her, chuckling lightly at his dilemma as he let the towel around his neck drop.

He was completely oblivious to the way he just made her face burn up as her thoughts spiraled out of control.

“Come.” She took Bucky’s hand in hers, careful not to squeeze his palm, and led him outside to their bed.

It took Bucky a second to move his feet, but when he did, he felt like he was being carried on top of a cloud.

She felt herself drawn to him in a way she couldn’t quite explain, her heart pounding with a mixture of nervousness, curiosity and… desire. A new sensation was tingling all over her body, specifically in places she didn’t need to be tingling right now.

Positioning herself between his parted legs, she reached to take the towel from around Bucky’s neck.

His eyes watched her, surprise flickering in them as he realized what she was going to do, unable to believe what was happening.

Sensing her nervousness, Bucky offered her a reassuring, grateful smile, silently encouraging her to continue.

And as she began to carefully pat his damp hair dry, her touch tentative and her eyes focused, he felt warmth welling up inside him.

She couldn’t help but steal glances at his bare shoulder and chest, her cheeks burning with embarrassment at the engrossing sight. It was a feeling unlike anything she has ever experienced before, her heart racing with unparalleled excitement.

The awkwardness of the situation began to fade bit by bit as she focused more on the task at hand, in its place growing an overwhelming sense of closeness and familiarity.

Bucky’s hair was so soft under her fingertips as she took the towel up and down the brown locks. She wished she had given herself a chance to touch it more before.

As she finished drying her orc’s hair, she met his gaze with a shy bite of her lip, her eyes sparkling with newfound confidence.

Bucky reached out to take her hands, his smile appreciative as his lips pressed a deep kiss on each palm, silently thanking her for her kindness and care.

~

“I didn’t know your cooking was so good. You surprise me every day,” Bucky praised, as she filled his mouth with more lentil soup, trying not to think of his conversation with Sam or the way his body was still on fire from the mere act of her drying his hair for him.

He couldn’t even believe she was feeding him after seeing him struggle to keep the food on his spoon using his left hand.

“All the girls at the orphanage know how to cook. They teach us all sorts of things and make us to be good housewives,” she replied, suddenly nostalgic of her days at the orphanage, curious to know how, where and when Bucky got the chance to see her back then.

Bucky didn’t say anything, busying his mouth with chewing some bread as his smile shrank.

She didn’t look happy. Why did she stay then? Was she planning on running away at night that day? Maybe she put something in the food?

“I’m glad you like your dinner though,” she said, breaking the thick silence with a soft smile as she fed the orc a piece of chicken.

“Why didn’t you try to leave today?” Bucky couldn’t hold back.

She was taken aback by his question. She thought he wanted her here.

Was he finally done? Did he want her out? Was he not going to look for her this time? Has Bucky given up on her? Was he going to leave her be had she gotten out today?

Most importantly, she didn’t know how to answer because it seemed like she was done running away from her new life with him, and she didn’t know if she could admit that.

“I– did you want me to?” She asked, her voice strained as she tried to hold in the tears.

“No! No, of course not!” He assured her quickly.

“Then?” She chewed on her lip.

“I don’t want you to stop running if it makes you feel alive,” Bucky told her, his blue eyes gushing with love he didn’t intend to show, “I’m willing to go to the ends of the earth to find you.”

“What?” She wasn’t expecting this at all, all the tingles she had hardly managed to shake off after drying Bucky’s wet hair coming back to attack her.

How were these words coming out of an orc! And why did they make her heart stutter in its beats?

“I love your fiery spirit and I’m afraid I’m killing it by keeping you here against your wishes. I never want to be the one to snuff your fire out.” Bucky admitted, eyes sincere as he watched her.

She just stared at him for a moment, stunned as her heart skipped yet another beat.

If he only knew that he was the one who had managed to bring this fiery personality to life.

Bucky respected her silence and went back to enjoying his dinner, not wanting to push her for a reply. She could take her time.

She kept staring at him in confusion for another minute before taking her almost untouched plate and getting up.

She almost ran to the kitchen with her hand on her heart.

What was going on with her? Her heart wasn’t seriously beating this loud for the orc. Could it be?

He sounded so selfless and spoke so gently like he has never before and she was overwhelmed.

His words were doing things to her that she has never felt before. What was wrong with her?

She knew she had caught herself staring at him without a shirt just minutes ago, maybe admiring his eyelashes as he slept in some early mornings, but she rendered it curiosity and nothing more.

She shook her head, her thoughts startling to her as she emptied her plate in the garbage and started washing it vigorously.

Bucky no longer had an appetite, sighing at her reaction.

He told himself he could understand, but it was still hurtful the way she jumped out of her chair.

He left his plate on the table, not wanting to invade her privacy by going to the kitchen before leaving the cottage altogether.

He probably shouldn’t have said anything.

~

She revisited the subject the same afternoon though, not wanting there to be any misunderstandings between her and Bucky. Not any longer.

“I don’t wanna leave anymore,” she admitted timidly, making Bucky’s smile betray him and his usual frowning.

“But I don’t like being locked away in here all day either,” she said carefully, scared to upset him.

“Where do you wanna go? The forest is dangerous, little human.” Bucky was back to frowning at the thought of anything bad happening to her again.

It was torture for him when her foot was still healing and he was the most relieved when it finally did. He couldn’t just let her roam around when she didn’t know the area.

“Take me out when you come back from work maybe? Or even on your day off,” she suggested, desperate to see the world.

“And go where?”

“Anywhere. We can walk around the woods before it gets dark, you could show me your shop, I could meet Sam? Or we could even go to the market!” She suggested eagerly.

She has been locked up for so long and she didn’t want to continue her life like this.

Bucky actually thought about it and he didn’t hate the idea. Taking her out with him would ensure her safety. He would be by her side and he would protect her. He also liked the thought of taking her out and properly courting her even if she didn’t know that that was what he was doing.

He said he didn’t want to kill her spirit by keeping her in here and she gave him the solution.

“Okay.” Bucky nodded at her with a smile.

“Okay?” She exclaimed happily, not believing Bucky would actually take her out to see around.

“Okay.” He nodded again reassuringly, her happiness making him laugh.

“Well, don’t you have tomorrow off?” She asked suggestively, gesturing to his hand.

Bucky laughed, nodding, “put your shoes on.”

“Thank you, Bucky.” She involuntarily gave his healing hand a squeeze, kissing his cheek before running to get her shoes.

Bucky swallowed hard, hoping he would be able to hold himself together and not completely melt under her sweet company.

“You’ve got to promise me though,” he said.

She looked at him questioningly as she slipped one foot into a shoe.

“No running away, little human.”

“No running away. Promise.” She promised, shaking her head with a shy smile.

Bucky smiled big, taking her smaller hand in his as she grabbed her basket in the other, ready to browse the market with her husband.

Her husband. That was starting to sound unquestionably comforting.

“Oh, and one more thing.”

“What?” She tilted her head with a grin.

“You owe me a kiss,” Bucky said, his tone serious.

“No, I don’t! If anything, I just gave you an extra kiss!”

“Yes, you do. From that morning. You’re still one kiss behind!”

“I just made up for it!”

“Doesn’t count. That one covers the night before.” Bucky shrugged, a smile etched on his lips.

“Okay, fine.” She kissed Bucky’s cheek, “stop going around saying other girls’ names though.”

Bucky laughed, “I only know one!”

“Still too many,” she whispered under her breath, but Bucky heard it, smiling from ear to ear as he took his hand in hers, taking the right path out of the woods. ~ It was a beautiful afternoon, full of warm sunshine and fruitful deals. She has got some pretty good stuff for really good prices.

She couldn’t believe Bucky actually gave her pocket money.

He didn’t want her to have to ask him for money every time something caught her eye. He wanted her independent, fulfilled and brave as she bought herself whatever her heart desired.

Her heart was so full and her smile was inerasable.

Bucky didn’t let go of her hand all day and she actually liked it so much that she never complained. The feel of his calloused skin against her soft palm wasn’t like anything she has felt before.

She didn’t want to let go of his hand even while looking at the different stands and booths at the market.

But she eventually liked the flower stand too much and told Bucky she would take a look at them while he continued buying them the fruits he was picking.

“Good afteroon,” a smooth voice interrupted her admiration of the potted plants before her, making her look up for a second.

“Good afternoon.” She smiled coyly.

“Any favorites?” The handsome man inside the booth asked her.

“All of them,” she giggled softly, the sound catching Bucky’s ears at once.

The man laughed back, “okay, I think I have something special for you. How about this one?” He brought her a purple flower from the batch hidden behind him inside the booth.

“Oh, how beautiful! What is this one?” She wondered, amazement sparkling in her eyes at the sight of the pretty petals.

“That is a Globemaster Allium. Pretty, isn’t she?” He asked, staring at her desirously as she looked at the flower.

“Yes, she’s stunning!”

“I’m Cole by the way—”

She heard Bucky clear his throat next to her and looked up at once, the innocent awe in her eyes softening the orc a little.

“Look, Bucky! Isn’t this the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen?” She pointed to the flower pot excitedly.

Bucky leaned in, his frown scaring her a little, her breath hitching when his lips tickled the shell of her ear, “no, little human, you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

She chocked on her own saliva, hiding her hot face with her hand as she coughed, “Bucky!” She whined with a shy smile.

Where did that come from!

“Let’s go,” Bucky said with a nod of his head, eyes stern as he glared at Cole.

“Can—” She held his wrist, “can I have it?” She asked softly, gesturing to the flower pot.

Bucky wanted to say no. He didn’t want her to have this farmer’s flower. But he couldn’t say no to those hopeful, beautiful eyes of hers.

“Fine.” He watched her get the money out of her pocket and she smiled gratefully as she almost set them down on Cole’s counter.

“It’s on the house,” Cole said, still smiling dreamily at her.

She could all but swallow as she gave a polite smile back before looking up at Bucky for help.

“Take your goddamn money.” Bucky made a quick job of paying for the flower, taking the money from her and slamming it on the counter, making the whole booth shake.

He quickly took his wife home, deciding that was enough socialization for the both of them for the day.

She wasn’t going to lie, she was loving jealousy on her orc. It felt so intoxicating to have someone love her so much that he was jealous of other men talking to her.

She wouldn’t tell Bucky, but she would probably spend the nights of the next week smiling at the wall every time she remembered how he held her hand back home just a little bit tighter that day.

Her own heart was running wild at the sight of the orc now and she didn’t want it any other way.

~

“Now you know how it feels,” she teased with a smile as they were getting ready for bed.

Bucky couldn’t let it go, talking about how they were never going to stop by that farmer’s flower booth ever again.

“That’s not the same! I was never into Sarah! But that man was openly ogling you!” Bucky grumbled, his frown digging deep into the skin of his forehead.

“He was just being nice, trying to sell his flowers,” she laughed, upsetting Bucky even more.

How couldn’t she see it? The guy was all over her!

“He was flirting and you were all giggles and blushes.” Bucky copied her, going to the bed and burying himself under the covers, facing the wall.

He understood now why she had done that.

“Hey, that’s my spot!” She joked, not knowing if Bucky was being serious.

“Not tonight,” he murmured from underneath the covers.

“Bucky,” she whined, uncovering her orc’s face.

Bucky didn’t reply, pushing himself closer to the wall.

She tried to bring him on his back by the shoulder like he so easily did her a couple of night ago, but he was too strong for her and his body wouldn’t budge.

She huffed, “okay, you left me no choice.”

Bucky remained still, wanting to see what she meant by that as he felt her shift behind him.

Before he knew it, she was on top of his bicep, trying to slot herself between his body and the wall.

“What on earth—”

“You started it, Bucky!” She said, voice determined as she kept pushing, trying to squeeze herself in the small space accessible.

Bucky looked at her in amusement for a second before moving back, making her body drop as larger space became available.

She landed with the tiniest “ouff” on the mattress, facing Bucky on her side with her back to the wall, its coolness helping soothe the heat rising to the surface of her skin.

That was the closest she had been to Bucky since their hug the night of his injury, face to face as his passionate sapphire eyes watched hers.

“Hi,” she whispered, heart in her throat.

“Hi,” Bucky replied with a charming smile, smoothing some of her ruffled strands back in place.

She stared at the orc’s eyes, not the slightest bit scared of the fact that she was trapped against the wall by his huge body.

“You’re not the only one who wants to be loyal to this marriage, Bucky,” she said, surprising Bucky and herself, “I don’t want the farmer. I don’t want anyone else.” but you.

Bucky smiled in disbelief, taken aback by her words, and she took it as permission to move closer to his chest. He instinctively wrapped her up in a protective hug, wondering how he was able to hold himself back from kissing her.

She pushed her face into her orc’s chest, his scent and warmth engulfing her into a protective bubble.

She couldn’t believe she said the words she has just said and it made her bury her burning face deeper in Bucky’s arms.

He could only hug her tighter, his nose in her sweet-smelling hair as his smile grew bigger.

This moment right there was everything Bucky has ever wished for. He could die a happy orc right then and there.

~

It became a habit for them to go out to the village on Bucky’s day off. They were both having a great time, getting closer and falling harder.

Cole hasn’t spoken to her again after learning that the snow orc was actually her husband, and she respected Bucky’s feelings and never approached Cole’s booth no matter how pretty the plants on his stand were.

Market outings were their thing now and she wasn’t going to let anything ruin that.

She didn’t want anyone else’s attention but Bucky’s anyway. His hand has almost fully healed and she could now squeeze it all she wanted whenever she got excited about anything they encountered.

One thing did occur that annoyed her though and that was the way the jewelry lady would look at her every time she and Bucky would pass by. The woman had so much pity in her eyes when she saw her hand in an orc’s and she hated it.

She despised the way people misjudged her orc when he was far better than any human man she could’ve ever ended up with.

Yet, the lady kept giving her those pitiful looks, probably thinking Bucky had enslaved her or something.

But enough was enough.

When Bucky was busy looking at the knives, she made her way to the jewelry lady, determined to put an end to the ridiculousness.

“He is my husband,” she sternly told the lady in the jewelry stand, taking the chance that Bucky wasn’t listening.

“Oh.” The lady quickly gave a kind smile, turning from concerned about her to happy for her, “I apologize for misjudging you, dear. I was only worried about you. We’ve all heard stories about him.”

“Well, that’s all they are. Stories.” She ferociously defended, her eyes still stern.

“I’m sorry,” the woman sincerely expressed her regret, squeezing her hand.

She nodded with a small smile, accepting the older woman’s apology.

“I don’t see a ring on your hand.” The jewelry lady gestured to the collection of rings in her glass box with a wink.

“Oh.”

The sentence caught Bucky’s ears as he turned away to look at her embarrassed face.

“We didn’t get time to buy one. It all happened so quickly,” she explained awkwardly and Bucky’s expression fell.

“I have a pretty collection if you wanna take a look, and don’t worry about the price,” the older lady suggested kindly.

“No, it’s okay—”

“Choose what you like, sweet thing,” Bucky whispered to her, immediately by her side when he saw her eyes skimming over the jewelry, “I’m sorry I’m not familiar with the human marriage traditions. I should’ve gotten you one sooner.”

“It’s okay, Bucky. You don’t have to,” she reassured with a tender smile.

She didn’t need a ring to know that she was Bucky’s.

“I want to. I want you to wear my ring, little human.” Bucky raised her hands to his lips, placing the softest kisses on her each finger.

Her heart surged as a shy smile spread on her lips, heat rising to her cheeks.

“Okay.” She nodded happily, feeling like she was in a dream and she never wanted to wake up.

Though very expensive, Bucky ended up buying her the ring she chose. It was the prettiest gold ring with a moss agate blue diamond.

She tried to talk him out of it, wanting to pick something cheaper, but Bucky wouldn’t have it.

She has never felt as special as she felt with Bucky’s ring on her finger. It was the prettiest thing from the most handsome orc.

And in that very moment, she was the happiest that she trusted her gut; that she gave Bucky, and herself a chance for this marriage to be something more than a contractual deal.

Bucky couldn’t believe she has finally let him make her his. When he slipped that ring on her tiny finger, he felt like he was king of the world.

While walking back to their cottage, a new dream got unlocked inside of her, one that included her and Bucky and their very own little stand in the market.

“Can we stop by the shop before we go home?” She asked tentatively.

“Sure, why? Did you forget something there yesterday?”

She has been to the shop a couple of times, curious to meet the important people in Bucky’s life and possibly have friends of her own, too.

“No, just wanna show Sarah the ring,” she said, a shy smile lighting up her happy face.

Bucky brought her hand to his lips, kissing her ring finger this time, “to the shop it is.”

~

Everything was going amazingly and she wished with all her heart that it would stay that way, but unfortunately, the very next day was a day for another fight that none of them saw coming.

Bucky still hasn’t recovered from her little stunt a few weeks ago and today he came back to find the cottage empty again.

He should have locked the door. He shouldn’t have trusted that a ring on her finger might stop her old habits or give her a magical change of heart.

What about all the small moments she had shared? Did those mean nothing to her?

Bucky’s anger and feeling of betrayal wiped away everything nice that had happened between the two of them, only remembering that she never wanted to be here in the very first place.

“Why are you so adamant about making me lose my mind?” Bucky asked, pushing her inside and slamming the door behind them.

“I’m not! Would you just listen?!” She yelled back, startled by the harsh treatment.

“What the hell were you thinking?!” Bucky shouted as if he didn’t hear her.

“I was just—”

“Wandering through the forest alone is dangerous, I’ve told you time and again, and yet you keep doing it!”

“Would you listen to me?!” 

“No! You acted like you would stop running, so what changed?!” Bucky threw his big arms in the air, making her take a step back.

Bucky looked bigger than he usually did when he was livid like that.

“I wasn’t running!” She repeated, her voice tinged with anger of her own at the distrust.

“Stop lying!” Bucky growled, roughly grabbing her by the arm.

“I’m not lying,” she insisted as she tried not to wince at the way Bucky held her forearm, her jaw clenched defiantly.

“Then what were you doing up the hill, huh?” Bucky unconsciously squeezed her arm harder.

“You’re hurting me.” She tried to pull away, but Bucky wouldn’t release her.

“You think you’re the only one who has fucking feelings?” Bucky shook her in his hold, unintentionally bruising her further.

She cried out but it fell on deaf ears, “Bucky, let me go!”

“Do you think what you do doesn’t affect me just because I’m not a goddamn human?!” He forced her closer, making her tears fall as he barked in her face.

His words hung heavy in the air, echoing through the spacious room.

“Bucky, please,” she tried again, not wanting to fight anymore.

Bucky finally listened, suddenly shocked at his actions as he let her arm go.

It’s been so long since he had made her cry and he just ruined everything good he had worked on building with her.

She just stood there, whimpering in pain as she held her arm to her chest.

Bucky watched her roll the sleeve of her winter dress up to look at her arm and there they were: thick fingerprints on her flesh.

“I— I’m sorry,” he whispered, trying to get closer to look at her arm, swallowing hard.

To his surprise, she let him.

“I’m sorry, little human.” Bucky wiped a few of her tears away, regret evident in his voice.

“I wasn’t running,” she repeated, pushing her hands in the pockets of her dress, “I was collecting berries to decorate the cake I made earlier.” She pulled handfuls of now ruined wild strawberries, raspberries and blackberries out of her pockets and dropped them on the wooden table for him to see.

She left Bucky alone to stare at the berries and went to the kitchen.

And boy did he stare.

He felt so stupid and ashamed at the way he had reacted. He just hurt her and she wasn’t even trying to leave. He wouldn’t let her explain either and had unjustly judged her.

She got out a cold water bottle from the fridge, pushing it to her bruised arm.

Bucky walked into the kitchen, shame branded on his face.

“Are you okay?” He asked, not knowing what to do to correct his mistake.

“What do you think?!” She irritably snapped at him, waving her bruised arm in the air.

“I just wanted to help!” Bucky barked back.

“Well, I don’t want your help!” She shouted.

“Fine! Don’t want it!” Bucky walked out, his feet stomping on the wooden floors.

He stormed out of the cottage, violently slamming the door behind him.

Bucky then realized what he has just done and how he had made the situation even worse. He kicked a rock so hard he was sure it flew to the other side of the forest as he saw birds flying disruptively.

“Damn it!” He yelled out loud, slamming his fist to the door, making her flinch inside the cottage.

The fight between the orc’s rough exterior and his rather tender feelings for her was torturing Bucky. What he meant to show was that he cared about her and was worried for her, but instead he’d done what he’d done.

She, on the other side of the wall, irately got out of the kitchen with the trash bin and swept the berries from the table, throwing them in the garbage.

When Bucky got inside again, she was cleaning the stain of the berries from the table, her features still twisted in a frown.

He opened his mouth, trying to think of anything he could say to fix this, but nothing came out. With a sigh, he left the cottage once more, leaving her all alone.

She sat down with a huff, throwing the cloth in her hand across the room.

She let her tears run in frustration.

It was supposed to be a peaceful night where they enjoyed a delightful desert that she has worked hard on making and was going to work hard on decorating.

She was trying to start a life with him. Why did he have to ruin it like that? She wasn’t running. How could she make him believe her?

She desperately wanted, needed Bucky to trust her.

She cried harder, feeling helpless in the face of her orc’s rage as her heart clenched at the thought of a happiness gone so soon.

Part V

~

Tag List:

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[botchedsundoll]

I love ur hc sm!! Can I request hc for Chris and/or Leon settling down with a family? They deserve a happy ending after so much fighting 🥹

L. KENNEDY, C. REDFIELD, C. OLIVEIRA X READER (SEPARATE)

ೃ⁀➷ sypnosis; family/ kid hc’s

ೃ⁀➷ warnings; none!

ೃ⁀➷ author’s note; needed to add a little something for carlos bc i love him, half of this is mostly what theyd b like having kids LOL, no proofread im lazy ahahhahaah

C. OLIVEIRA

he’s a very domestic man at heart so had absolutely no problem with settling down with you after all the rc bs. was rather extremely willing to do so, actually

you want to get married? sure! you want a big wedding with friends and family? no problem! small wedding with only those closest to you? of course! you don’t want to get married? absolutely anything for you.

said this before and i’ll say it again, absolute girl dad.

to him, there’s genuinely nothing better than coming home to his girls - getting greeted by little arms wrapping around his legs the moment he steps through the door

attends every single parent event without fail - if he’s not working, of course… might call in sick to not let his little one down

sits down and does homework with them, yet he ends up confused aswell and the hw does not end up being done, unless you intervene

you know the ‘bad cop and good cop’ dynamic? he’s definitely the good cop - constantly letting the kid(s) off with pretty much anything and everything, claiming they’re too little to understand

as a result, he’s definitely the favourite

L. KENNEDY

almost always thought of the white picket fence life - a dog, pretty wife, two kids and maybe a dog. yet always shoved that into the back of his mind and ignored it completely

but now that he’s met you he lets himself dream a little, until those dreams become a reality

if you two have kids then at the start, he’ll be weary as fuck. constantly doubting himself, not knowing if he’ll even know what the hell to do once said kid is in the world

but he’s a complete natural! to the point it pisses you off. the moment the kids handed to their dad, all the tears suddenly stop and they’re all happy again - as if you haven’t been trying to get them to stop crying for the past hour

and he doesn’t even acknowledge it.

his kids are definitely pub (bar) kids. the two of you sat in a booth with friends having a drink and talking or whatever, and there’s just little toddlers running around - coming back to the table every once in a while for some apple juice or whatnot

sits there and watches cartoons with the kid(s), started off as a one off and now he genuinely can’t stop - when cartoon network starts playing the old cartoons later at night? you best believe he’s sat there watching them - screw bedtime. dexter’s laboratory is on

he’d be rather iffy about a big wedding. but if it’s what you want you best believe he’ll do it for you

C. REDFIELD

definitely that dad that falls asleep with the kids on the couch whilst watching a match of something on the tv

goes to the parent teacher meetings and genuinely does not give a fuck. has the most DEADPAN look on his face ever, went once and never again

like i said before, definitely bring his ‘military like’ bsaa training home but makes it something fun, something the kids aren’t afraid of at all

imagine bath time - chris shouting vigorous orders at them and the kid(s) just shouting back at him in response

‘DO NOT OPEN YOUR EYES OR IT WILL STING, DO YOU UNDERSTAND?”

“OK!”

he’s away from home quite a bit but whenever he comes home and the lights are off, he always tucks their sleeping form in before tucking you in yourself, planting a small kiss on your forehead, what a sweetheart

marriage is a bit of a… weary concept for him. he wants to and loves you a lot, don’t get me wrong. but what if someone finds out about you and takes advantage of that?

in the end, he manages to push those thoughts away and happily marries you

definitely gets the kid(s) into extracurricular sports/ activities and you best believe he’s at every match or training

usually rather soft and understanding with the kid(s), yet knows when to be firm and set his foot down - the perfect balance

[alwaysahiccupandastrid]

Gladiator II - Thoughts (SPOILERS)

I was fortunate enough to watch Gladiator II at the Royal Global premiere at Leicester Square last night (Wednesday 13th November) and I NEED to share some thoughts but there are definitely some spoilers, so…

I cannot stress this enough:

THERE ❗️ ARE ❗️ SPOILERS ❗️ BELOW ❗️ THE ❗️ CUT ❗️

Once again

⚠️ DO NOT CLICK THE READ MORE IF YOU DO NOT WANT SPOILERS FOR GLADIATOR II ⚠️

There’s probably things I’m missing/forgetting right off the top of my head, and I might be paraphrasing/summarising some dialogue. I definitely need to rewatch it when I’m NOT super close to an IMAX cinema screen because I spent the whole movie with my neck craned backwards and my eyes darting everywhere because I was trying to take it all in.

Anyway, without further ado:

The opening credits were very beautiful, it recounted the plot of the original film but kind of like in the style of the opening credits of Pillars of the Earth? I don’t know if that makes sense 😭

If I remember correctly, Joseph is billed third behind Paul and Pedro, and Fred is billed fourth 🥹♥️

The film opens with a huge battle where the Roman army, led by Marcus Acacius, conquering the last free city of Africa (I think?), which is what Lucius and his wife are trying to defend

I cannot for the life of me remember what Lucius’ wife was called but she seemed nice, we only had her for a few minutes though before she got killed 😭

Okay so I’m going to start right off the bat by talking about the Emperors as they were the ones I was most looking forward to seeing, and I want to give them their own section!

We NEED to talk about Fred as Caracalla - this isn’t even me being biased, I’m being as unbiased as I can when I say that he was AMAZING

By the way, for months I’ve seen people talk shit about Fred, complaining about how they wish it was Barry Keoghan, whinging because “we could have had Joe and Barry” - to those people I say, shut the fuck up ☺️ I will NOT tolerate any hate for my boy Fred!

Fred actually had a much meatier part than Joe which was pleasantly surprising. I’m not saying Joe wasn’t unhinged or good, but he was way more sane than Fred’s character and you got the feeling that he was trying to hold their rule together and keep his brother from bringing down the whole empire

Caracalla surprised me because he was so much more softly spoken than I anticipated; in so many scenes he was childlike and almost pitiful to watch. For example, there were times where you could see him pouting or fidgeting like a bored toddler, at one point he essentially threw a tantrum and Geta had to hold him back from killing Acacius and Lucilla (and then in the background you could see him playfully swing the sword about like a child would with a toy) He would grin and get excited like a child whenever there was fighting or bloodshed, bouncing in his seat, he looked surprised and excited in the beginning when Geta handed him wine etc.

In the last coliseum fight scene, this was literally Caracalla getting excited when the fighting started - a literal child 😭

Honestly it was just fascinating to watch Caracalla because you could never tell if he was going to be childlike and almost-innocent or if he was going to start screaming and get violent

So apparently the reason that Caracalla is unhinged is because (to quote Geta) “the disease from his loins has spread to his head” (to paraphrase) which makes me think he’s got syphilis or something.

Also both of the emperors are briefly seen with concubines (as in the trailer), and Caracalla has both male and female ones hanging around him 😭 we love a bisexual Emperor!

Caracalla seems to have memory problems (probably as a result of his STI) because he doesn’t remember seeing Lucius fighting in front of them from just a couple of days ago at their party (the scene with the concubines) and Geta tries to remind him, “it’s the poet” but Caracalla just sits down and says he doesn’t remember

There’s a scene where Marcus and Lucilla are brought to the emperors in the middle of the night after being caught in a conspiracy to overthrow them, and you’ve got Geta in that red robe from the trailer whilst Caracalla is basically just wearing a fucking bedsheet toga style 😭 you know that shot in White Lotus where Fred/Quinn has a duvet around himself? Kind of like that

Contrary to that Letterboxd review calling the twins “BJ brothers”, there is NO incest in this film, and no hint of incest between the twins. I know a screenshot is circulating of Joe in the red robe where you could see what looked like the top/side of Fred’s head as if he’s on his knees, but they were absolutely NOT doing that 💀 the scene shows them both entering the room (Geta in his robe, hastily put on) and Fred in his bedsheet toga thing. I definitely didn’t get the vibe of incest at all, I got the vibe of “it’s the middle of the night and they’ve both been woken up because these two traitors (Marcus and Lucilla) were caught plotting against them”

I love that Caracalla’s weakness is Dondas (or Dundas? Different magazines are using different names so I’m so confused), his pet monkey (WE FUCKING LOVE CHERRY AND SO DOES FRED 😭♥️) Like he’s got Dondas/Dundas wearing a fucking dress and on a little chain lead, eating sweets from a bowl, and I have to applaud Fred for being able to act with a straight face while he had the monkey crawling over his shoulders, touching his hair, and at one point when the monkey moved the chain lead literally went right around/over his face

While there’s riots going on outside the palace, Caracalla is freaking out and has Dondas/Dundas the monkey on his shoulder, and Geta straight up threw wine at both of them before saying that maybe Dondas (or Dundas, whatever the fucking name is) go and calm down in another room 💀

There’s a scene where Macrinus finds Caracalla hiding under a table with the monkey and it made me think they were almost playing hide and seek 😭 truthfully I think he was just under there crying and hiding

It’s the fact that Macrinus was able to manipulate Caracalla into killing Geta by using his love of Dondas/Dundas against him; the people of Rome protest against their emperors, and Macrinus basically tells Caracalla that Geta is going to throw him to the plebs outside to be killed - and Dondas/Dundas. “Think about what they might do to Dondas” (or Dundas) - and that’s what pushes him over the edge.

NOT CARACALLA AND MACRINUS SAWING GETA’S FUCKING HEAD OFF LIKE THAT 😭 IT WAS STRAIGHT UP LIKE A HORROR FILM WITH MACRINUS COMING UP BEHIND CARACALLA AND HELPING?!?

Also Caracalla made the monkey a fucking consul of state (I think) after he killed Geta?!?! 😭 Absolutely fucking UNHINGED I TELL YOU

“ALL HAIL DONDAS! 😃” (or Dundas - again, someone please tell me the fucking monkey’s confirmed name)

They showed Geta’s head for WAY too long 😭 and Macrinus just showing it around like that?!? NASTY

Reeling over the fact they airbrushed out Geta’s head for the trailer because in this shot in the film Geta’s head is clearly visible on the table behind Denzel 💀

Sorry but Fred looked damn fine in that purple outfit near the end 😋

I feel like Caracalla had a little bit of a soft spot for Lucilla but the two sides of his personality were warring with each other: the sadistic bloodthirsty side wanted to murder both her and Marcus right away, but then near the end he whispers to Macrinus “must we kill Lucilla?” and he sounded a little hesitant or unsure which was interesting

Seeing Fred as Caracalla without Geta in that last coliseum battle scene? I can’t help but love him, Fred is seriously too good in this role. The shouting, the childlike excitement when the fighting started (see gif above)

Fred was definitely playing up the childlike side of Caracalla in his last scene when the people started revolting, he was literally curling up in his seat, snivelling and crying like a baby until Macrinus killed him from behind (he put something in his ear, i think he stuck a pin in his ear to impale his brain?) Truly pitiful end for Caracalla.

Once again: Fred Hechinger for Best Supporting Actor at the 97th Academy Awards campaign!! 😊↕️

Okay so now I’ve talked about the Emperors, I can talk about the rest of the film:

Ridley Scott truly said fuck historical accuracy in this film 😭 which is not surprising to be fair if you know him and his movies

This film was, expectedly, VERY bloody and violent from start to finish

NOT LUCIUS TAKING A BITE OUT OF THE BABOON 🤯

At one point where they’re bringing the slaves into Rome, they show statues of a wolf feeding two human children from her teat and Lucius recounts the story - this is obviously a reference to Romulus and Remus, twins raised by a wolf mother. This is actually really fitting because from earth on, Ridley AND Fred and Joe have mentioned the idea of the twins being based on this Romulus/Remus story?

DAMN, Paul Mescal was super beefy in this film like holy fucking shit dude

Honestly I adore Pedro but his role was way smaller than I thought it would be. His role is essentially to be Lucilla’s decent and loyal husband who also happened to lead the invasion that killed Lucius’ wife in the beginning of the film, something he did not want to do, hence why Lucius wants to kill him so badly (family drama, eh? 😭) and who is part of a plot to dethrone the twins

MATT LUCAS AS THE MASTER OF CEREMONIES?!? 😭 I won’t lie, at first it distracted me because I was like “why the fuck is Matt Lucas here” but he got a few laughs out of the cinema screening so his tiny parts added a little bit of humour to the film when it got tense

As I said above, there’s no incest shown - there is a MENTION, however, of a rumour that Lucius’ real father wasn’t Lucius Verus(?) but rather Commodus (obviously Lucilla’s brother/Lucius’ uncle from the first film). However, it’s not true because they make it very clear that Lucius’ father is Maximus. They do however briefly mention that Lucilla was a child bride at the age of 14 which is a bit fucked up

I was probably the only person in my screening who noticed this but at one point I saw graffiti on one of the walls on the outside/entrance to the coliseum that said something like “Irrumbo Imperators” - according to Google, that translates as “I attack the emperors”. However, it could have also been “Irrumabo Imperatores”, and if you ask Google to give you the Latin word for “fuck”? It’s “Irrumabo”. So essentially there was graffiti in the film that either said “attack the emperors” or “fuck the emperors” 💀

I thought that maybe Lucius had somehow forgotten that Lucilla was his mother despite being 12 when she sent him away but nope, he’s fully aware of who he actually is and who his mother is, he’s just angry at her for sending him away and never seeing him again 😭

NOT THAT SERVANT TATTLING ON LUCILLA AND MARCUS?!? 😤

They killed Marcus off WAY earlier than I thought they would by the way. The trailers give the impression that the final battle is Lucius vs Marcus but it’s actually Lucius vs Macrinus which is WILD to me

You know that scene in LOTR where the orcs shoot Boromir full of arrows? That is basically what happened in this film to General Acacius but with about 20 more arrows 💀 I had major Boromir flashbacks watching this scene

I’m glad that Lucilla and Lucius got to reconcile before the ending, given what ended up happening

“Because Emperor Caracalla is generous, he will allow Lucilla to have one Gladiator to fight to defend her” - ONE. ONE AGAINST ABOUT 30 TRAINED GUARDS 💀

I’m still reeling over the fact Derek Jacobi spoiled his own character’s death on the red carpet a mere hour before the film screening in front of THOUSANDS of people 😭 that man did NOT give a fuck quite frankly and I think that’s kind of hilarious of him

THE GASP THAT EVERYONE IN THE SCREENING COLLECTIVELY LET OUT WHEN MACRINUS KILLED LUCILLA BY SHOOTING HER IN THE CHEST?!? HE KILLED CARACALLA AND LUCILLA IN 60 SECONDS FLAT 😭

That said, this shot from the behind the scenes featurette about Ridley Scott is ten times funnier to me after watching the film and realising that not only is Ridley showing Denzel how to shoot the arrow that kills Lucilla, but Fred is also supposed to be dead in the chair at this point since Macrinus takes the bow and fires the arrow straight after killing Caracalla 😭

Poor Lucius has now seen his father, his mother, his uncle and his wife all die right in front of him, the man CANNOT catch a break 😫

That final battle between Lucius and Macrinus was GRUESOME 😳 Lucius cut off his hand and slashed him - I’m not sure if he actually cut him in half or if Macrinus just crumpled in the river in a heap but DAMN

This film used footage from the first Gladiator film so they gave the actor who played Lucius in the first film a credit which was nice!

That said, I know obviously it’s been 24 years since the original film so of course the child actor from the original is no longer 12 and so could not be in the flashback scenes showing young Lucius, but damn the difference was a little jarring to be honest, especially when it went from footage of the original film to new footage with the new child actor

Ridley Scott spoiled the ending of this fucking movie by saying he wanted to have Paul back to play Lucius again as the main character in Gladiator III 💀 so yeah, I already knew Lucius was surviving this film

Some final summary thoughts:

Let’s be honest, it would be impossible to top the first Gladiator and so while I loved Gladiator II and think it was amazing, it was obviously never going to quite reach the same level as the original

I know I just made the comment about nominating Fred for Best Supporting Actor but I have to be honest, I truly think Denzel deserves the nomination - if there’s only one actor from this film who gets that nomination, it has to be Denzel because he was by far the standout of the whole film. If I had to rank it personally I’d say Denzel and then Fred is a close second, then maybe Joseph and Pedro?

^ This isn’t me saying Joe and Pedro were bad at all, they were all really amazing, but this film just had so many characters and quite frankly Fred, Joe and Pedro had WAY less screentime than Denzel so they didn’t have nearly as much to work with as he did.

Again; I’m biased because I went in the most excited to see the Emperors, but I wish we’d had more of Caracalla and Geta. Fred and Joe did their best to work with what they were given, but they didn’t have that much and pretty much all of their scenes were shown in trailers or TV spots etc.

GIVE CHERRY THE MONKEY A FUCKING OSCAR

I obviously wasn’t expecting Paul Mescal to fight real baboons, rhinos and sharks but the CGI was… not great. It was quite obvious that it was CGI for the baboons and sharks, I think the rhino was slightly better though (Fred mentioned in an interview his first day involved “the mechanical rhino” so it was somewhat partly practical as well I suppose)

The pacing of this film was a little all over the place, if I’m being honest. I want to rewatch soon, from further back in the screen because, as I said, I was craning my head back the whole time and it ended up giving me a neck and headache so that probably added to me being uncomfortable (plus I’d had a long day and was thoroughly burned out by the time the screening started), but there were times where I was like “oh… we’re back here then 😐”

^ What I’m trying to say is that some of the storylines happened so fast and had very little build up (eg. The emperors in general) whilst other plots were so slow burn in comparison.

The music was so good! I know people are going to compare it unfavourable to Hans Zimmer’s original score from the first film, but I LOVE Harry Gregson-Williams (he did the soundtrack for the first two Narnia films so I’m biased 😅) and I thought he did a great job with the score here. The fact he had Hans Zimmer’s approval and praise made me confident the score would be great anyway

I feel like people are obviously going to compare Paul Mescal to Russell Crowe which… let’s be honest, has gotta suck for him because how the fuck do you live up to Russell Crowe?!? Some people have already said that they didn’t like Paul in this film, which… okay, fair enough. I honestly don’t think comparing him to Russell Crowe does him any favours. I enjoyed watching him personally, and I think given that this whole film rests on him, he did great. Not quite Russell Crowe but I have no complaints about his performance personally.

People are also going to compare Joe and Fred to Joaquin Phoenix’s Commodus, and I think they both did a great job given that they didn’t actually have nearly as much screen-time as Joaquin did in the original film. It’s almost unfair to compare them because in the first Gladiator, Commodus was the main antagonist - in this film, Macrinus is the main antagonist overall whilst the Emperors are more secondary antagonists that serve as obstacles for Macrinus’ rise to power. But they both did great with what they had.

Overall, my opinion of the film?

This film NEEDS to be seen on a big screen at the cinema! Go and watch it!

[lexirosewrites]

hello again, it's the eddie's leather jacket candle anon! i wanted to submit something for slick sunday last week but couldn't think of anything, and then at 1am monday this popped into my head while i was trying to sleep lol. based on the idea that you smell like the people you're around a lot or were recently near

thinking about b!steve, overcompensating for being a beta by trying to be perfect instead. he tries to get good grades, does his best at sports, gets in with the popular crowd, dutifully obeys his father's stubborn insistence on taking the stupid vitamins for his stupid deficiency everyday... only for canon events to happen, and effort is worthless without promising results in the eyes of his alpha parents.

the summer of ’86, steve gets in a fight to end all fights with his parents when they find out about his “dalliances with” (crush on) a!eddie, and b!robin and her parents offer their basement for as long as steve needs it. robin shares a bathroom with steve and notices the pill bottle she keeps in there is emptying faster than normal. when she asks if he’s been taking some of her pills, he shrugs and apologizes for using her vitamins without asking, but they were the same kind he’s been taking since puberty hit and he’ll buy more if she’ll tell him which drugstore carries it since he can’t seem to find it on his own.

except they’re puberty blockers. omega puberty blockers. robin takes them on purpose because having a period is enough trouble without the heats, but steve has everything he’s ever known about himself and his life as a harrington turned on its head. a lot of the things he’d been scolded for (things that in hindsight are omega traits, like the “stomachaches” he gets every 3 months because of his “vitamin deficiency”) suddenly make a lot of sense. they call joyce, who lives in hawkins again and has dealt with a son going through omega puberty, and ask for her advice. through their combined research, steve concludes the best course of action is to taper his dose until he’s completely weaned off the blocker, that way the change doesn’t happen all at once.

cut to a month later. at hellfire, which now takes place in the basement of wayne’s new government hush-money house, eddie notes that dustin smells weird different, to which dustin replies he’s using a new deodorant and he even showered right before he got here today and why the fuck are alpha noses so frickin’ sensitive. eddie says whatever, as long as it keeps the BO out of his nostrils.

eddie smells dustin’s oddly pleasant strong new deodorant when he goes to make a return at family video. he asks robin if she started using the same deodorant as dustin and she whacks him in the head with the tape because no, dingus, dustin was here earlier borrowing neverending story again, dingus. when eddie asks why steve isn’t there for him to flirt with, robin says he had to go home sick. eddie eagerly offers to bring steve cold medicine or food or go to keep him company, but robin shuts that down harsher than necessary. eddie can take a hint, steve just needs the day off. as he leaves, the familiar beamer in the parking lot doesn’t strike him as odd.

jonathan doesn’t usually ask eddie for weed, especially since argyle has way better shit, but eddie stops by the byers-hopper residence anyway for a covert drop. he runs into joyce, who apparently shares the same taste in deodorant as dustin, and asks why everyone’s getting the same new deodorant, only for her to tell him that the only thing that’s changed with her is nursing steve back to health from his terrible cold. they seem to reach a realization at the same time, and eddie decides he needs to ask steve where the hell he’s getting this deodorant and why it smells better from him than when dustin wears it. (joyce, infinitely wiser in her years, reaches the correct conclusion.)

eddie manages to sneak via window into the basement where steve is staying, bringing a care package: cold medicine, a hot thermos of wayne’s soup, and a few cassettes of Actually Good music. the plan is to hang out for a few hours, maybe set the mood a little, and if eddie can’t actually get the words out he can play the cassette that contains a recited confession on how much eddie likes steve and his stupid, sexy everything and could steve please, please, please think about giving eddie a chance. he only gets halfway through the window, then falls in the rest of the way at the sight and smell and sound of steve in a full-blown heat, wearing eddie’s battle vest and fingering his dripping cunt while mewling eddie’s name. eddie can only appreciate the situation for 2 seconds tops before the panic and instincts kick in. he bursts into the house’s ground floor, tosses the care package to a bewildered robin, and halfway out the door yells that his rut just triggered and he needs to leave.

after a few very turbulent days, eddie’s planning a new strategy for How to Woo Steve Harrington when steve himself barges into eddie’s room and kisses him senseless. they talk about steve being an omega, their mutual attraction, and what that all means in the long run, which leads to flirting and ends with steve deepthroating eddie and eddie eating out steve’s pussy.

a year later, eddie tenderly kisses the mating bite on steve’s neck as they cradle their newborn child.

Steve’s omega status being hidden/suppressed by his parents for years is so genuinely awful… and such great angst. he believed them so completely that his entire identity is altered and he has to learn how to function as an omega, but Eddie will take care of him and treat him right!!! this is adorable😭💕

[thejakeformerlyknownasprince]

What if all the yeerks suddenly died? AU

Part 3.5; Part 1, Part 2, and Part 3 are here. All you need to know from earlier parts is that all the yeerks disappeared at once after the events of #19, and that the Animorphs and ex-controllers have been trying to resume a normal life ever since.

• Hedrick Chapman wanted to be an ecologist when he grew up.  Or a veterinarian.  Barring that, he’d have settled for being rich.  At no point did he ever want to be a vice principal of a criminally underfunded public high school.  That had been a yeerk decision, not his.  Certainly not his.  And yet, here he is.

• Then again, Chapman reflects as he watches Andy Mitchell vomit into the potted plant on his desk, this job has recently involved far more working with wild animals than he initially anticipated.

“It was horrible,” Andy sobs.  “Her f-face, it… it split open.  I could see bones under the—”  He cuts off, retching more.

Probably in shock, Chapman thinks.  A perfectly understandable reaction to having seen someone morph for the first time.  “What did she turn into?”

“What?”  Andy lifts his head.  Milk-pale, except for those red-rimmed eyes.  Definitely in shock.  “What do you mean?”

“Rachel.”  Chapman didn’t get a name, but that description could only apply to so many students.  “What did she morph?”

“I don’t know,” Andy wails.  “Her face got all baggy and horrible, like the skin was coming off, and it…”  He makes a pulling motion, away from his own mouth.

“So she turned into an elephant.”  Chapman notes that down.  “Then what?”

“You don’t understand,” Andy says.  “She… she… her body was melting!”

Chapman sets down the pen, looking him in the eye.  “I believe you.  You saw her turn into an elephant.  Did she try to attack you, once she was done?”

“I don’t know!  I ran for it.”

“Smart choice.”  Chapman massages his left temple, which is where his Rachel-shaped headache seems to have taken up full-time residence in Iniss 226’s absence. “I figured as much, since we’re not having this conversation in the hospital.”

“It was horrible,” Andy says again.

“And what did you say to Tobias Fangor that precipitated this incident?”

Andy blinks.  His color looks a little better, anyway.  “How did you know that?”

Chapman does not roll his eyes.  Because he’s an adult, and in control of his own body.  “I just so happen to be fluent in English, Mr. Mitchell.  Which is, by enormous coincidence, the language used to write your disciplinary file.  I’m also capable of basic pattern recognition.”

“What are you going to do to her?” Andy asks.  “Rachel.  What happens to her?”

An excellent question.  Bringing a deadly weapon to school results in a ten-day suspension.  But if Chapman applies that statute in this case, then he’d be forced to suspend all five Animorphs for the rest of eternity.  Threatening a classmate can result in expulsion, though it sounds like no actual threats were issued.  There isn’t a rule on the books for showing a classmate something so disturbing his brain tries to turn itself inside-out from sheer horror, although in light of recent developments there really should be.

“Not your concern,” Chapman says.  “Thank you for telling me.  Back to class.”

Andy takes several more minutes to collect himself before he goes.  Chapman uses that time to catch up on paperwork, though he does offer the young man a tissue.  And a breath mint.

• Andy is barely out Chapman’s door when it swings open again and Tom Berenson strides in.  “You have to tell my parents it’s not Jake’s fault,” he announces.

I am not your therapist, Chapman would dearly like to say.  I am not your best friend.  I am not, regardless of Iniss 226’s relationship with Temrash 114, your fucking subordinate.  I do not ‘have to’ do anything.

Not being snippy with vulnerable teenagers is probably one of those things they’d cover M.Ed. programs, if Chapman had ever actually been to school for this job.  “Why don’t you take a deep breath and explain from the beginning.”  There.  That sounds like something a vice principal would say.

“Jake.”  Tom sits down.  “My parents keep forcing him to go to school.  They think he’s, like, being a moody teenager.  Or faking it.”

Chapman may not be a therapist, or even a college graduate, but he does recognize that Jake’s entitled to as many sick days as he feels like taking, for the rest of eternity.  However, “That’s between your parents and your brother.”

“You can’t do anything?” Tom asks.  “You have the ability to give kids permanent excuses for made-up medical conditions— Iniss did it all the time—”

“I am not,” Chapman says severely, “Iniss 226.”

Tom stiffens.  “I just meant…”

“I recognize it is not your fault you have entirely too much information about the administration of this school.”  Chapman tries to soften his tone.  “But if you can do without using the Krav Maga or ability to home-assemble a working handgun that you also didn’t choose to receive, you can do without that.”

“But— Jake.  They don’t get it.”

“I will speak with your parents.  I’ll express these concerns to them,” Chapman says.  “In the meantime, might I suggest you focus on your own grades?  Thanks to Iniss, you’ve missed far too much school already.  If you want to have any hope of graduating on time, you need to catch up.”

“Why?”

He says it so simply.  It’s a question Chapman’s been asked before: Why bother?  Of all the kids who’ve asked him, only Marco Santiago has been more entitled to ask.  Why, indeed, bother with school?  Why care about Civics and Algebra when the world itself has already ended around you? 

A real vice principal would make a speech about learning being its own reward, or the importance of insuring one’s future.  “Because,” Chapman says, “when I speak to Coach Lu about letting you back on the basketball team, he’ll point out that student athletes need a minimum two-point-oh GPA.”

Tom’s whole face lights up.  Suddenly looking years younger.  Looking like a kid, for the first time in months.  “You’d do that for me?”

That M.Ed. program no doubt would have advised against bribes.  “No skin off my butt,” Chapman says.  “Now go do your homework.  And let the adults worry about your brother.”

“Yes sir!”  And he’s off like a shot.  Possibly even, miracle of miracles, off to work on that backlog of English essays.

• The first time Jake called a meeting in Cassie’s barn, even though they don’t really have a reason to meet anymore, it was to discuss what they can do to help the hork-bajir—taxxon alliance.  The second time, it was to make a plan to help Tobias get caught up in school.  The third time, he doesn’t even make an excuse.

Rachel complains about the press hounding them for a statement.  Marco complains about his parents making out on the couch while he’s in the house.  Tobias complains about Ms. Paloma’s workload, and about the hork-bajir constitution negotiations.  Jake complains about his dad’s horrifying questions about how morphing affects puberty.  Ax complains about Alloran’s frequent, extremely snobby, emails.  Cassie complains about her parents constantly asking her to morph their patients to figure out what’s wrong with them.

It’s silly.  It’s fun.  It’s playing at being teenagers with teenage problems.

“This time next week,” Jake announces, at the end.  “And if there are any major developments in the meantime, keep the rest of us posted.”

• “Tobias Fangor’s aunt called again,” Principal Walsh says, when Chapman gets to the office on a Tuesday morning.  “Don’t you think we should at least speak to her, see what she wants?”

“No,” Chapman says.  “I don’t.”

“His uncle.  This…”  She glances at the paperwork.  “Axel Mili-Esgarrouth.  Didn’t show up for last parent-teacher conference.”

Small mercies.  Chapman doesn’t explain Tobias’s living situation.  Doesn’t reveal that he owes the kid’s parents the kind of debt that cannot be repaid in an entire lifetime of favors.  Doesn’t deign to find out if Maggie Walsh knows what an andalite is.

“Tobias Fangor,” he says, “is part of the one-tenth of one percent of students who are, somehow, attending this high school because they want to be here.  If you give him reason to transfer out, I will resign.”

• There are reasons that Chapman stays in this job, despite being stashed here against his will.  Not the pay.  Not the sullen ingratitude from the teens he helps.  Certainly not the parents.  It’s because he’s needed here, now more than ever.

• He stays for the times Loren’s kid comes skittering into his office, wild-eyed and muttering, “Sorry, I just, sorry, I’ll be out of your hair soon, I promise…”  Chapman knows to open the window, when that happens, knows to shove a chair already well-deformed with talon marks out from behind his desk.

•  He stays for the kids who on paper had straight As, perfect attendance, promising gigs at The Sharing — and overnight became failing wrecks with insomnia and dozens of unexplained absences.  He can explain to their teachers, to their parents, in a way that someone who hasn’t been there will never be able to understand.

•  He stays for the way Eva Santiago clasps his hand and says, “You will look out for him.”  Half-supplication, half-command.

•  He even, despite himself, stays for Tom.  Who showed up at school the day after Aegas 1909 died, trying to pretend like nothing had happened.  Who is a truly godawful actor — he took one look at Chapman, went dead-white, and ran for it.  Who was backing away even as Chapman cornered him in the parking lot.  “Wait!” Chapman had said.  “Wait! Iniss is dead too.”  And Tom had burst into tears.

•  No one else would understand them.  No one else would know why nearly every one of the seventy-three ex-hosts in this school has been sent to his office for not paying attention, for sleeping in class, for allegedly being stoned during school hours.  No one else would overlook the absolute illegal mess of Tobias’s paperwork, or give Rachel a fortieth second chance after she has yet another hair-trigger reaction to being bumped in the hall.

•  But there’s one reason above all others that he stays in this job.

“You don’t mind?” Melissa says, every single time he offers her a ride to school.  As if he’s doing her a favor, letting her take up space in the car he’s already driving that way.  As if it’s a chore to get to spend time with his daughter and hear about her day.

“You sure you don’t mind?” he always answers, smiling, and she always runs to get her bag.

It takes so little — a smile, a nod, an offer to feed the damn cat, sometimes even just a glance her way — to get her to light up with gratitude.  It breaks his fucking heart to know the reason why.

He drives her every day.  He helps her with homework every night, and cooks her dinner afterward.  He drops more than he can afford on leg-warmers and Lisa Frank and Limited Too.  He’s every parenting cliché: on a trial separation from Alison, spoiling their kid rotten because of the guilt.

Anyway, time with Melissa is worth a hell of a lot more than mere money.  And it’s almost enough to make up for dealing with parents.  Almost.

•  “But Cassie’s a good kid,” Michelle Logan says.  “She’s always been responsible, and she’s always taken care of herself.  There has to be some kind of mistake.”

Chapman looks at the good kid sitting between her parents.  Thinks of watching her rip a hork-bajir’s throat out, taking an innocent life along with the guilty one.  Trusts that she had no choice in the matter, because if it was him she’d killed instead then he would have understood.

“I recognize that Cassie has had an overall clean record thus far,” Chapman says.  “However, the Rain Forest Café is filing charges against the school for the impersonation and theft of several live animals, and I don’t have other suspects.”

“Cassie would never,” Michelle said.  “She’s a good kid.  She just fell in with the wrong crowd, that’s all.”

“Of that,” Chapman says dryly, “I have no doubt.”

Cassie lifts her head then to look straight at him.  “I’m sorry,” she says, not sounding it.  “I was trying to help the parrots.”

I.  Yes, she’s a good kid.  “It’s admirable,” Chapman tells her, “that you’re covering for your friends.”  Probably also on the list of things a real vice principal wouldn’t say.  “But there is no way that you could have acted alone.”

“Can you prove that?” Cassie asks.

“Can you even prove it was her?” Michelle says.  “What about Marco, or Rachel?  They morph.  Isn’t Tobias a bird quite often?  Who says it wasn’t him?”

Cassie and Chapman make eye contact.  Marco is one incident away from being expelled.  Rachel is about negative eight incidents away, and Chapman can only do so much to protect her.  Tobias isn’t supposed to be at this school at all, which the board will surely notice if he comes to their attention.  Cassie confessed, because Cassie can take the heat.  And Chapman’s letting her take that fall.

“It’s okay,” Cassie tells the adults.  “It’s only a week of detention.”

Because that was the lowest sentence he could propose, while still avoiding a legal proceeding.  She really is a good kid.

•  “Where you going?” Jake asks, not looking up from his Spanish homework, when Tom unlocks the front door at 8:00 PM on a Sunday.

“Sharing meeting,” Tom says casually.  “Wanna come?”

Jake sets down his pen.  He looks at his brother.

Tom stares back, smirking.

“Where are you actually going?” Jake says.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”  And with that, Tom walks out the door.

Despite himself, Jake follows.

 • It’s an under-21 nightclub that Jake vaguely recognizes as being a front for The Sharing, but the crowd spilling onto the lawn around it is truly all ages.  There’s a giggling pair of 10-year-olds standing too close to the beer keg for his comfort, a middle-aged guy handing out glow sticks, and a woman with gray hair and a hand-knit sweater smoking a joint on the curb.

“Tommy-boy!” That’s the guy standing next to the door, an ex-controller Jake thinks is named Bill.  He throws out his arms and, before Jake can react, has grabbed Tom, spun him around, dipped him, and kissed him on the mouth.

“Hands off, asshole,” Tom says, laughing as he pulls loose.  “You are so fucking drunk.”

“Sssshhhhhh,” Bill says, not disconfirming the accusation.  He points to the Employees Only printed on the door.  “Just meat-puppets tonight.  Ditch the tagalong.”

“Oh, come on.”  Tom gestures at Jake.  “The kid was a controller for a hot second last November.”

Bill squints at Jake.  “Wait, really?”

Jake shrugs.  He doesn’t want to talk about it.  “Yeah.”

“Well all right, then.”  Bill ruffles Jake’s hair, Tom slaps Bill on the ass, and they shoulder their way inside.

• The club is jammed full of bodies, most of them sweaty and partway naked.  Jake retreats until his back is against the nearest wall, looking over the mess of dancing humans.  Tom has split off, chest-bumping with some other guy Jake doesn’t know and stealing a drag off his cigarette.  None of them are acting remotely like controllers, which is reassuring, and now he’s wondering if it’d be rude to leave without Tom about 10 seconds after having arrived.

 No one would notice if he turned into a bug, he decides after about an hour of this.  Seriously.  This crowd would not notice, and it’s not like they’d care if they did.  Tom can find his own way home.

A small form sidles up next to him.  “Hi, Jake.”

“Melissa!” he says too loudly, glad to see a familiar face.  “Hi.”

“You want some drink?”  She holds up a clear plastic cup, three-quarters full of liquid.  “There’s plenty more over…”  She points to the punchbowl behind her.

“Drink?” Jake asks.

Melissa shrugs.  “From the empty bottles, it’s mostly beer and tequila, with a little bit of Bloody Mary mix.  Which is probably why it…”  She grimaces down at her cup.  “Looks, smells, and tastes like urine.”

“Um.”  Jake peers at her cup; her assessment isn’t wrong.  “I think I’ll pass, thanks.”

“Cool.  There’s also a guy around here with E, if that’s more your speed.”

“Gee.”  Jake looks back over the crowd, which includes several couples openly pawing at each other, a group of four with hands inside each other’s clothes, and Tom apparently attempting to eat some woman’s tongue before she can eat his.  “There’s ecstasy here?  I never would’ve guessed.”

“People are just glad the war’s over,” Melissa says.  “And your brother’s a really good kisser.”

It’s official: this is worse than the gathering of alien slugs plotting Earth’s destruction that Jake expected to find.  It’s not even a proper orgy, just a whole crapton of giddy ex-hosts hugging each other and then getting too enthusiastic about the hugs.

“Look,” Jake says.  “This has been nice, but I have school tomorrow, so…”

•  Which is when the commotion breaks out near the door.

“Gatecrasher!”  That’s Bill, brandishing a mason jar as he continues to yell.  “We have a gatecrasher!”

Several people crowd around him to get a better look, someone holding up a glow stick to reveal that, sure enough, the jar in his hands contains a single wolf spider.  Among this crowd, animals that act strange or aren’t native to California don’t go without notice.

«I’m innocent!  And even if I’m not you can’t prove anything,» the spider says.  «Maybe I just wandered by accidentally, and this is all a big misunderstanding.»

“This thing’s for full members only,” Tom says, straight-faced.  “There’s a sign on the door, can’t miss it.”

«Maybe I want to join the Sharing?» the spider suggests.

This gets him several unamused looks.  “Toss him out,” Li says.  “And let’s get back to the keg stands.”

“Nah, let him stay!”  That’s Koko, piping up from the back.  “God knows every person in this bar owes the Animorphs a drink.”

Looking between them, Bill turns back to the jar.  Finally he lifts it up to eye level, starting at the spider’s middle two eyes.  “Repeat after me,” Bill intones.

«Uh-huh.»

“What your mom doesn’t know…”

«What my mom doesn’t know…»

“Will not hurt her.”

«Dude, I wouldn’t narc on you!  What do you take me for?»

“A chip off the old block,” Tom mutters.

“Repeat it,” Bill says severely.

«What my mom doesn’t know, won’t hurt her.»

“Great!”  Bill unscrews the lid of the jar, dumping it out on the ground.  “Welcome to the Sharing.”

“If it makes you feel better,” Melissa says to a slowly-demorphing Marco, “I got the same speech.”

“It really does.”  He presses a hand over his heart.  “Now, someone mentioned buying me a drink?”

•  A small nightclub on the outskirts of the city burns to the ground, shortly after having every piece of its furniture and glassware smashed in a pile in the middle of the floor.  The local police force, over 30% of whom were controllers three months ago, elects to ignore this development.

•  Chapman loathes paperwork to the absolute depths of his soul.  Nothing, absolutely nothing, is worse than filing paperwork to get permission to file paperwork, and yet here he is.  The state of California cannot possibly need this many copies of Ashley Shawn’s transcript.  This has to be a torment invented by an evil god to punish him for everything he did aboard the Jahar.  There is no other explanation.

So when Ms. Hanna comes skidding into his office and announces “Science wing! There’s a brawl!” his first thought is, oh thank god.

His second thought is to wonder why she came to get him, skipping the security officer and Principal Walsh, but they’re already running by the time that occurs to him.

When they get there the press of screaming-chanting bodies fills the hall from end to end, but kids still find room to crowd out of the way when they see Chapman coming.  The circle of spectators breaks long enough to reveal the melee at the center, and—

Oh hell.  Chapman can tell exactly why Ms. Hanna got him first.

Fiona Aherne has one hand fisted in the collar of Tom Berenson’s shirt, and is punching him repeatedly in the face.  Joe Lassen catches her around the middle and rips her off Tom, tossing her to the floor, only to be caught in a side-tackle by Li Saren.  Beyond them, Hailey Ng and Bill Renaldi are hanging onto Asher Reed, until Asher suddenly rolls forward and body-slams Bill to the floor.

Chapman winces — so much for not using that Krav Maga. He's knocked aside as Jake shoves past him and dives in to the fray.

Principal Walsh is across the battlefield, staring in bafflement.  Shouting ineffectually for everyone to stop.  She doesn’t know, of course, what Tom and Joe and Asher all have in common.  What Bill and Li and Fiona and Hailey do.

Li has Tom by the throat from behind, which is why Jake throws himself onto Li with the gracelessness typical of a high-schooler.  Li head-butts Jake, only to have Jake, snarling, bite him in the face.

“Stop!” Chapman bellows.  “ALL OF YOU!  STOP!”

Jake drops off Li.  Hailey drops Asher.  Slowly the others lower their fists, glaring.

Good to know everyone’s fear of Iniss 226 is still good for something.

“Everyone in the Biology classroom,” Chapman barks, pointing at the door.  “Bill’s lot near the windows, Tom and the others by the door.  Move it!”

Principal Walsh stares at Chapman in confusion, which deepens when everyone obeys him without question.  He beckons first to Ms. Hanna, then to Mr. Tidwell, pointing them into the room as well.  They also take their places without question, Mr. Tidwell supervising the voluntary half of the room as Ms. Hanna covers the involuntaries.

Pausing in the doorway, Chapman turns at last to face Maggie Walsh.  His boss.  Who has the ability to fire him, if she misunderstands the situation.  “It’s about yeerks,” he settles for telling her.

Her look of bafflement doesn’t fade.  “How?”

Chapman opens his mouth. Hunts for words.

“Jake had nothing to do with this.”

Chapman doesn’t have to turn his head to know who spoke from the involuntary side of the room.  What a surprise, a Berenson kid running his mouth.

“Thank you for your input, Thomas.”  He spins around.  “That isn’t your call.”

Tom crosses his arms.  Between the fingernail marks down his cheek and the broken knuckles of his right hand, he looks the very picture of delinquency.

“He’s right,” Joe says, from the voluntary side of the room.  “It’s nothing to do with Jake.”  In Chapman’s peripheral vision, Maggie Walsh blinks several times.  He’ll explain later.  Or try to.

“Fine,” Chapman says.  “Jake, get back to class.”

Jake lifts his chin, blood striping the lower half of his face.  “I chose to get involved,” he says.  “I’ll take my punishment.”

“Oh yeah?” Tom says.  “Then what was the fight about?”

Jake looks from one side of the room to the other.  Both sides have ninth graders, twelfth graders, jocks and nerds, white and Black and brown kids.  Jake’s probably smart enough to identify several ex-controllers, and to guess at the rest, but unable to tell how or why they sorted themselves like they did.  Nonetheless, after a second he opens his mouth.

“That’s what I thought,” Chapman cuts him off.  “Anyway, if I suspend you then Marco and Rachel will have burned down the school within a week.  Fix your nose, then back to class.”

Knowing when he’s beat, Jake leaves.  Chapman makes a note he’ll also have to explain to Maggie how morphing works, and that he didn’t just order a 14-year-old to hand-set a broken nose.

“The involuntaries started it,” Bill announces, the moment Jake is gone.

“Yeah,” Tom snaps, “and the voluntaries are the ones who—”

“Who were lied to, instead of being coerced?” Mr. Tidwell suggests.

Tom shuts his mouth.

“Asher called me a traitor.”  Li points a finger across the room.

“Six months ago Li told me,” Asher says quietly, “that I should really join the Sharing.”

“And so,” Chapman drawls, “you had no choice but to punch each other in the face.  Is that correct?”

Tom mutters something under his breath that Chapman chooses not to catch.  He can’t threaten them, not this crowd.  Most of them have survived worse hells than the Geneva Convention ever dreamed of.  Detention means nothing.

Fine.  Persuasion it’ll have to be.  Fuck his life.  Chapman raises his voice to address the involuntaries.  “They—” He points to the voluntary side of the room.  “Are not the enemy.  The yeerks are the enemy, and the yeerks are dead.  Don’t start doing their work for them, you hear me?”

There’s a long silence.  Asher scuffs the toe of his shoe on the floor.

“Yeah,” Tom says at last.  “We hear you.”

“Everyone get checked at the nurse’s office,” Chapman tells the room at large.  “You’re all suspended for the rest of the week.”

Maggie Walsh takes a seat next to Chapman, even as the kids all file out.  Yeah.  He owes her an explanation.  Taking a deep breath, he tries to sum up what just happened.  Hopefully in a thousand words or less.

Don Tidwell, coward, takes that opportunity to slip out the door.

•  “Does anyone have anything to report?”  Jake looks around Cassie’s barn.  It’s still odd to see Ax and Tobias sitting out of morph and in the open.  There was a brief collective panic when Cassie’s mom poked her head in earlier to ask if they want any lemonade or feeder mice.

“I have,” Marco says grandly, “a date… with Destiny!”

«Oh, you mean Destiny Trembull in tenth grade?»  Tobias immediately undercuts this, because of course.  «She seems nice.»

“And we don’t even have to spend the next three days following her around,” Rachel comments, which gets Marco to lob a horse comb at her head.

«I have accessed one-hundred twenty-three additional channels on my television,» Ax adds.

Cassie and Jake exchange a glance.  “How’s it going, getting a ride home?” Cassie asks.  “Any word on that?”

Ax shrugs — he isn’t even going to fit in on the andalite homeworld anymore when he does finally get there — and looks away.  «I’ve been told that there are more important priorities concerning the Navy.»

«Their gratitude,» Tobias drawls, «is overwhelming.»

•  Chapman explains to Jake’s parents that Jake needs a therapist, and also permission to miss school if he needs to.  Chapman explains the Yeerk Empire and how exactly they recruit humans to Li Saren’s parents for the third, then the fourth, then the fifth time, until they are in tears and begging their son’s forgiveness for doubting him.  Chapman explains to the district that he has no idea how the school ended up with a staircase leading from a supply closet to the alien sinkhole, but that he wants it sealed up posthaste.  Chapman explains himself to Naomi Berenson, and then he does his best to explain Rachel as well.

• "No," Chapman tells the officious-looking little man sitting across his desk. "I don't know of anyone like that. I'm sorry, I wish I could be more help."

The man — he's probably a real detective, he has a badge — leans across the desk to push the photo array a little closer to Chapman. "You're sure? None of these individuals is a..." He glances at his notes. "Voluntary controller."

Chapman looks at the array, which includes images of nearly 100 students. Some of whom weren't controllers at all — that's Tobias Fangor in the upper left corner. Some of whom were lied to by the Sharing, and then lied to by the Yeerk Empire. Some of whom, like Bill Renaldi and his absolutely debilitating major depression, felt they had no choice but to give up their bodies. "Sorry," Chapman says. "None of these individuals appear to be voluntary controllers to the best of my knowledge."

The detective stares at Chapman, waiting for more information. Chapman stares back, waiting for the detective to get bored. He can do this all day, literal hours of silence if that's what it takes. He doubts any mere civilian can say the same.

Sure enough, the detective breaks first. "You see," he says, "we know for a fact that some of these individuals did, in fact, collude with the Yeerk Empire. And we have CCTV footage indicating that you might have been one of those colluders yourself. So anything you can do to help us out..."

Chapman lets the silence go for another minute, long enough for the detective to shift in place. "You're mistaken," he says at last. "About what it means to be a voluntary controller. Or an involuntary one, for that matter. The distinction you're seeking does not exist."

"I'm sorry." The guy has his notepad out now, pen moving. "You're saying... there's functionally no difference between the voluntary hosts and the involuntary ones?"

"Yes," Chapman says, unaware of the hell he's about to unleash. "That's exactly what I'm saying."

•  “Ms. Paloma’s being a butt,” Melissa says, spinning her chair with a toe on the floor.  “I told her that I have a French test the same day as the Bio one, but she just said that means I have to learn to manage my time.”

She just walked into his office.  Without knocking.  Without asking if he’s busy, if he minds, if he’s sure.  Without apologizing for her existence.  She walked in, she sat down uninvited, and now here she is complaining to him like any normal teenager.

“That sounds stressful.”  Chapman is choosing his words with infinite care.  He’s six years old again, holding a butterfly cupped in his palms and knowing that even a millimeter’s clumsiness will crush this precious living jewel.  Thinking this.  This is what I want.  “I’m sorry to hear that,” he says.

She came in unprompted.  She just walked right in.

“I hate French.”  Melissa spins the chair again.  “It’s all those lists of vocab words, and I can’t even say half of them correctly…”

“Do you want me to help you study?” Chapman asks.

Her head pops up with the force of her surprised, pleased smile.  “You’d do that?”

That’s it, then.  He’s never leaving this job.  Paperwork and all.

[borathae]

"An unexpected rainstorm forces you to seek refuge at your best friend's house. Hoseok just so happens to also be your boyfriend's best friend, who till this day gushes about the night he and Hoseok shared. Soon you can't take the curiousity about his skills anymore. Especially when he looks so goddamn hot and the clothes you borrowed from him smell just like his cologne."

Pairing: Vampire!Hoseok x Witch!Reader

Genre: Best Friends with Benefits!AU, Polyamory!AU, Smut, some domestic sweetness

Warnings: minimal Yoongi x f.Reader, Domish switch!Hoseok, Switch!Reader, there's not really a D/s dynamic though just two people having sex where one just happens to take the lead more & then they change it up, *whispers* if you're new to the Sanguis Universe everyone fucks everyone here lmaoo, Hoseok is a whole boyfriend i said what i said, he gives her his clothes to wear, they smell like him <3, Hobi is a lil nervous hehehe, lap sitting, making out, oral (f. & m.receiving), mattress & thigh humping, handjob, she spits on his cock, he spits on her pussy, passionate missionary, hair pulling (m.receiving), nipple play (m.receiving), clit & pussy spanking with his cock, he shows off his vampire face, dirty talk, praise, he calls her good girl & babygirl, he's into making her beg, multiple orgasms for both, creampies, cockwarming for aftercare, cuddly aftercare, Hoseok's so whipped for her

Wordcount: 12.6k

a/n: you guys, i'm scared he is so hot fjadsfja also, if anyone dares to call me out on my oral fixation i will lick your nostril JFJADJF istfg i can't even deny that i have it hahahah have fun besties because a bitch might cum 💗

The rain surprised you today. You were at the university’s library for most of your afternoon after having spent your lunch and morning hours in lectures and classes. You want to finish your education. This is what your current plan is. A little bit of normalcy and the feeling of achieving one of your life long goals. 

You are the only one who went back to university after everything which happened. The others had no reason to do so and you didn’t blame them. You really liked being back at university, spending your days studying and your evenings practicing magic or cuddling with your  boys. You are living the best fucking life.

The rain surprised you today. You were on your way back home when a sudden rain shower took control of the sky. You could have easily called one of your boys and they could have picked you up, but you didn’t feel like it. Seokjin’s – aka Hoseok’s – house was just in reach and you are sure that you can find refuge there. 

You increase your steps, fighting against the storm. Hopefully Hoseok is home. Seokjin and Emma are back in Gordes for a few months, so Hoseok has been taking care of the house. He spends most of his weekends at the estate however, if he isn’t busy with his dance school that is. 

You hurry up the few steps and slam your finger on the doorbell. 

No answer for a few moments too long. The rain is wet and cold, the harsh storm brings down the temperature even more. You are shivering like crazy. Your clothes are soaked entirely.

You ring the bell a second time in sync with Hoseok opening the door. It results in you being able to hear the shrill ringing. 

“Hey”, you say, slipping your finger from the bell to give him a little wave.

“Hey there hey, come in. Quick, come in”, he greets you, waving you inside as he steps out of the way, “the weather’s crazy all of a sudden. Shit, look at you. You’re soaked.”

“I’m freezing my ass off. The rain surprised me”, you tell him, “can I put my stuff on the mat?”

“Yeah sure.”

Hoseok locks the door while you shrug off your soaked outdoor clothes and backpack.

“You’re lucky I have increased hearing. I was wearing headphones.”

“Yeah? Did you practice dance?” you ask, taking off your shoes.

Hoseok is already busy spreading your wet jacket on the radiator in order for it to dry quicker. 

“Nope, just making music.”

“That’s cool. You keep talking about it. I wanna listen to your stuff, seriously.”

Hoseok dismisses you with a nonchalant tilt of his head, “soon. It’s not finished yet.”

“You’re a perfectionist. I’m sure it’s already good.”

“Yeah I am, but at least it means that once it’s done, it’s amazing.”

“I can’t argue what that”, say and feel shivers run through you, “brrrr, I’m so cold. And wet. Urgh, I hate the rain.”

“You love rain.”

You laugh, “yeah, I do. I just don’t like it right now.”

Hoseok smiles and chuckles. He nods his head into the direction of the stairs. 

“You know where the bathroom is. You can take a hot shower if you want.”

“This would literally save my life. Thank you”, you say and turn to hurry upstairs, “can I borrow clothes?” 

“Yeah sure. What’s your size again?”

Spending time at Hoseok’s place feels familiar and safe. You know every nook and cranny, find everything blindly and feel at home in the rooms. It is not only because you spent months in the guestroom during the time Namjoon was still a threat and you hated Yoongi. But it is also because next to the estate, the former Sanguis frat house feels like a second home. You and the others are always welcome here, you are allowed to act at home and the company is always amazing. There are many days where you take a short rest stop at Hoseok’s place before going home. And there are also many days where the others, especially Jungkook, leave the estate to spend time at Hoseok’s instead. In a sense, the cozy townhouse has become an extension of the estate where all of you are always welcome. 

You are in the middle of drying your hair with Hoseok’s dryer when he knocks on the door.

“I’ve put the clothes in front of the door”, he calls out.

“Yes. Thanks”, you call back. 

Hoseok picked out one of his comfiest sweat suit. He is currently in a phase where he enjoys wearing matching sweat suits sets in the most colourful of combinations and with many accessories bringing the look together. He always looks to die for in them. He picked out a grey coloured sweat suit with neon green accents for you. You saw him wear it before and he looked amazing in it. 

He also laid out a pair of boxers for you and some socks. They are freshly washed because if there is one thing Hoseok is, it is clean. 

The clothes smell just like him and the cologne he always wears. Masculine and clean with a hint of sandalwood at the end. You catch yourself smelling the collar of his hoodie way too vividly, cringing at yourself afterwards because of how embarrassing that was. You couldn’t help yourself. He smells so good. 

Now wrapped in his soft clothes and with your body warmed up, you decide to look for him. Knowing Hoseok, he was back in his home studio. 

It is located on the second floor just past his bedroom and the guestroom Yoongi stayed in all those years ago. The door is closed and you know that knocking is fruitless. You still do, entering his room at the same time. 

“Hobi?”

He doesn’t answer you.

Just like you had thought, Hoseok was lost in his music, nodding his head to the beat of it. You can hear snippets of it escaping his headphones. It sounds as if he was rapping "burn" over and over again. The beat sounds aggressive and perfectly rhythmical.

“Hobi?” you repeat yourself and tap his shoulder. 

He presses pause and takes off his headphones, turning with his chair afterwards.

“Hey there ___”, he says and grins, tilting his head to the side.

“Sorry to disturb you.”

“You’re not”, he assures you and studies you from head to toe, “cute. My clothes fit you well.”

“Thanks”, you say, smoothing over the front, “they smell like you.” 

He grins, “and that means?”

“Nothing”, you mumble and look away. Shit, why did you say that? So embarrassing.

He chuckles and turns back to his desktop. He is wearing a brown sweat suit today, combining some rings and an expensive watch with it. Knowing Hoseok, he would wear some funky glasses and chunky sneakers with it if he were to leave the house. But alas, only a pair of white socks adorns his feet. The latter he currently taps to a silent beat. The song must still be stuck in his head even now that he isn’t playing it.

You take a step closer and point at the screen. Hoseok sneaks a glance up at you. You aren’t aware of it, but like this, your body is touching his upper arm. Your warmth seeps right through your clothes.

“I heard glimpses of the song. It sounded really good”, you say.

Hoseok turns back to you again. Like this, you are between his legs.

“You think so?” he asks, resting his head back against the chair in order to look up at you. His elegant fingers are folded on his stomach.

“Yeah. You sang about burning stuff?” 

“Yeah”, he laughs, “you could say it like that. I still haven’t finished the verses yet. It’s just a guide version for now.”

“It already sounds good.”

“Thanks”, he says and stands up with his eyes running over your face. He steps closer to you, placing his hand on the table beside you, “why are you here?”

“I, I uhm”, you clear your throat, “Hobi, don’t be like that”, you complain and push at his chest.

“Like what?”

“A flirt.”

He laughs, “I’m not flirting. I genuinely wanna know why you’re here.”

“I was on my way home from uni and the rain surprised me. This was closest.” 

“So I wasn’t a reason?”

“You’re always a reason”, you say and nudge him, “silly.”

He laughs and steps back, “are you hungry?”

“Starving actually.”

“Wanna cook together?”

“Yeah, I’d love that.”

“Funky. Let me just save this and then I’m ready.”

“Yeah, take your time. I’m calling Yoongi to let him know that I’ll stay the night here”, you say with your back already turned to him as you leave the room. You can’t see the surprised look Hoseok sends you at the mention of you sleeping over or the faint smile which follows. 

“Sure, tell him”, he says and looks back at his song.

You walk downstairs as you talk to Yoongi. The latter picks up after the third ring.

“Hey, my princess.”

“Hey, my prince.”

“Are you okay?”

“I am, don’t worry. The rain surprised me.”

“I know, I noticed. I was worried already”, he confesses, making you smile.

“Of course you were. Don’t worry about me, love. I managed to get to Hoseok’s just in time.”

“Thank god, phew”, he exhales loudly, “I can relax now.” 

“Yeah”, you giggle. He’s so cute.

“Are you staying the night? I don’t think the weather’s gonna get any better.” 

“Yeah right? I’ll stay the night if that’s okay.”

“Of course it is. You don’t gotta ask”, he assures you and suddenly you can hear the smirk in his voice, “maybe you’ll end up watching his stuff too, mhm?”

Your heart fluttered in your chest. 

“Yoongi”, you gasp. 

He chuckles deeply, “I’m messing with you.”

“Wah, so mean. I feel hot now.”

“Sorry”, he laughs.

“You’re not.”

“Mhm, no I’m not.”

“So mean”, you mumble and snicker. Yoongi does the same. 

Silence follows, which Yoongi breaks.

“Where are you right now?”

“Kitchen. I’m waiting for Hobi to come down. He’s working on his mixtape.” 

“Mhm, the songs are really good.”

“You heard them?”

“Yeah. He showed me and asked for my input.”

“That’s so unfair. He doesn’t want to show them to me”, you whine.

Yoongi chuckles, “poor woman. You’ll love them once he does.”

“Mhm, I’m sure I will”, you say as your eyes shift to the doorway. Hoseok is finally here, “hey love? Hobi just came. I’m gonna hang up now if that’s okay.”

“Yeah, okay. Tell him hi.”

“Yoongi says hi.”

Hoseok smiles, “thanks Yoongi. I say hi back.” 

“He says hi back.”

“Thanks”, the smile is obvious in Yoongi’s voice, “have fun, love. Yeah?”

Your heart flutters. You know exactly how he meant that.

“So mean”, you mumble, making him laugh, “I’ll have fun”, you add in a chuckle.

“Good. Sweet dreams, princess.” 

“You too, Boongie. I’ll come home for lunch tomorrow.”

“Okay, I’ll have something prepared.”

“Ooh, now I can’t wait. I love you, Boongie.”

“I love you too, princess.”

“And Yoongi! Before I forget!”

“Yes?”

“Can you tell the others where I am? So they don’t worry.”

“Of course, I’ll tell them.”

“Thank you, love. Okay, bye then.”

“Bye, love.”

You hang up and place the phone aside, smiling to yourself. 

Hoseok, who watched you talk to Yoongi on the phone, sends you a teasing look.

“You’re so whipped for this man”, he coos and nudges your upper arm.

“Yes I am. What about it?” you throw back with a pout.

“Nothing. It’s cute”, he says and points at his fridge, “what you wanna eat? I gotta warn you, I don’t have lots of groceries because I haven’t really eaten lots of human food lately.”

“Really? But you love human food. Are you okay?”

“Very. Just way too preoccupied with the mixtape. I just crack open a blood bag and I’m good. It takes less time.”

“You guys are so lucky that you can choose if you want to eat food or not. I miss out on food once and feel shitty.”

“Yeah right, I guess we are lucky”, he says and sticks his head into the fridge, “what do you wanna eat?”

You close the distance and try to look inside the fridge as well, “what do you have? Oh pesto. We could make pasta with pesto.”

“That sounds good. I think I still have your favourite pasta.”

“Really?”

Hoseok opens the kitchen cabinet and pulls out a package of your favourite pasta.

“Yup”, he says, shaking it.

“Wah Hobi, I love you. This is the best pasta shape ever.”

“Yeah, it’s good. It holds the sauces well.”

“Agreed and it’s the perfect size for my mouth.”

Hoseok snorts, “that’s what she said”, he says, earning himself a nudge to the chest.

“Perv”, you say, but chuckle.

Hoseok snickers and busies himself with getting out the pot and filling it with water. He puts it on the stove and turns the heat on.

“What should we do now that the water needs to boil?” he asks.

“You could show me your songs.”

Hoseok smiles, “why are you so persistent?”

“Because”, you nudge his chest, “I talked to Yoongi and he told me that you show him your songs.”

“Yeah? And?” Hoseok is giggling, which means he’s being playful. 

“Hobi, come on”, you whine, chasing him to grab his waist and squeeze it.

He flees you with minimal effort, letting out squeaky giggles while his hands hold yours in place.

“I’m so curious. Come on, show me”, you whine.

“Fine okay”, he squeaks, “okay, I’ll show you. Just stop tickling me”, he says and pulls you out of the kitchen.

You skip next to him happily, swinging your hands back and forth. Hoseok studies you.

“Why are you so happy?”

“Because I’m gonna hear your music.”

Hoseok sits you down on his studio chair while he busies himself with turning on the big speakers and subwoofer. You pull your legs up on the chair so you can sit cross-legged and watch him squat down in front of the desk. He rests his chin on it as he clicks away on his computer. 

You place your hands on his shoulders and give him a gentle massage. Hoseok reacts by leaning into you slightly and letting out a deep purr. 

“Okay, this song’s called More. I really like it”, Hoseok explains.

“Is it the one I could hear?” you ask, running your fingertips through the fluffy hair at the nape of his neck.

“No that one’s gonna be called Burn. It’s not done yet.”

“I see. Well then, play it. I’m so excited.”

“Right”, he says and presses play. He gets up and stands next to you with his arms crossed in front of his chest and a stern, almost angry, expression on his face. You glance at him at first, but then concentrate on the song instead. It’s an amazing song. It is not all how you imagined Hoseok’s music to be and you feel terrible that you thought so because as you listened to the hard beat and aggressive guitar riffs between his passionate rapping, you realise just how Hoseok this song is. It is in Korean, which makes understanding the lyrics difficult for you, but you don’t have to understand every word to know that this song means a lot to him.

The song ends. 

You cheer and clap instantly, bouncing in the chair. Hoseok doesn’t react to your cheers. He merely tilts his head to the side in a twitch and clicks his tongue, looking displeased.

“Ah I could add more reverb at one sixty”, he says and leans on the table as he works with a stern expression.

“This was amazing, Hobi. Look, I’ve got goosebumps”, you say, showing off your arm.

“You think so?”

“Yes. It was amazing. It had me totally captured and I wanna listen to the song whenever I do something I need motivation for.”

Hoseok turns and sits down on the edge of the desk. He still has his arms crossed.

“Thanks ___, that means a lot.”

“I’m serious. You’re so talented.”

“Thank you”, his features soften as if he finally starts to like the song as well, “yeah, I’m proud of it”, he says and smiles, “it took me a long time to get there, but it’s a good song. You know, I need my stuff to be perfect and I can’t rest till I’m satisfied.” 

“I know. You’re a perfectionist”, you tease, nudging him in the thigh.

“Yeah true”, he agrees and pushes himself off the table, “we should check on the noodle water.”

The water is boiling when you enter the kitchen so Hoseok pours in some pasta while you prepare the pesto and a plate for later. You set a timer on your phone, showing it to Hoseok.

“We’ve got around eight minutes to spare. Any more songs you can show me?” 

“No, but I’ve got a living room we can chill in."

You chuckle, “you’re so secretive with your songs.”

“Hey, they have to be perfect. I already stressed out ‘cause you listened to More.”

“Okay, okay I’m not saying anything. For what it’s worth, I genuinely think it’s an amazing song.”

“Yeah? Thanks, uhm”, he flusters and giggles, “shit, you got me giggling. Hah, thanks.”

You chuckle fondly, “you’re cute, Hobi.”

You eat your pasta in the living room, chatting about everything and anything while outside it storms. You and he clean the kitchen after you finished dinner and then return to the living room for dessert and more chatting. 

You and he share the sofa. Hoseok is sipping on a glass of blood while you opted for hot cocoa. 

“Are you okay?”Hoseok asks, interrupting your monologue about your library experience today. 

“Why are you asking?”

“Cause you’ve been rubbing your shoulders since we sat down.”

“Oh yeah. I guess I’m just a little tense. My backbag was really heavy today and it fucked my shoulders. It hurts.”

“I can massage you.”

“Really?”

Hoseok nods his head.

“Yes please. Oh my god, my saviour”, you say and get off the couch to sit down in front of him. Hoseok hands you a blanket so you can cover your lower body and then he turns so you were between his legs and he could reach your shoulders. 

He rubs his hands together to warm them.

“Should I take off the hoodie?” you ask.

“No it’s fine. I’m starting. Is that okay for you?”

“Yes, it’s okay.”

With your consent, Hoseok places his hands on your shoulders. He begins his massage by rubbing the flat of his palms up and down your shoulders and arms.

“What did you wanna tell me before I interrupted you?” he asks.

“Mhm? Oh yeah! As I was saying, I tried to use the computer to look for the book and it didn’t show me anything.”

“Oh no. How did you find it then?”

Hoseok begins rubbing circles into your shoulders, looking for the tighter areas so he could relax them. 

“That’s when it gets cool because I used magic to find it.” 

“Yo, really?”

“Yes, really. I concentrated really hard and thought of the words Yoongi taught me and then suddenly, I heard a small bell sound.”

“A bell sound?” Hoseok gasps. He is putting pressure into his touches, relaxing the tense areas. They are hard under his fingertips, no wonder you were in pain.

“Yeah seriously, a bell sound. And it became louder the closer I got to the book and then bam.”

Hoseok gasps.

“The book was right there. In front of my eyes.”

“Okay that’s so funky. What the hell?”

You snicker, nodding your head.

“I felt like a real witch then. I almost yelled until I realised I was at the library.”

Hoseok chuckles, “you’re seriously so cool. I know who to call if I ever lose something again.”

“Yes please do. Ah”, you tense up, “ah geez, it hurts.”

“Relax. You’re too tense”, Hoseok says.

“It hurts a lot, you know?”

“I know. You’re really tight in this area”, he says, digging his thumbs into the area.

“I know, ah geez”, you hiss, writhing in discomfort, “no need to break my shoulders, ah.”

“I’m not even using a lot of my strength”, he defends himself and lessens the pressure, “how’s that?”

“Yeah, it’s better. Sorry, I’m a little wimp when it comes to getting massaged.”

“It’s chill. I can be gentle”, he says, rubbing circles into your neck.

You feel yourself shiver. Not only because of the relaxing touches, but also because of his words. You are very well aware that he didn’t mean them in a sexy way, but it’s difficult not to understand them in such a way when Yoongi’s words still run through your mind. You ogle the TV, then the armchair next to it. Yoongi told you what Hoseok did to him on that chair. You fumble with your own fingers, feeling your heart speed up in your chest. Would it be weird to bring it up right now? He is being such a good friend and you don’t want to make him uncomfortable by being a horny slut. You are aware that Hoseok is a very down to fuck kind of guy, but just because he is, doesn’t mean that he always has to be in the mood to be a horndog. He’s just a person after all and a person you love so very dearly.

“What’s wrong?” Hoseok asks, placing his delicate hands on your upper arms, “am I being too rough?”

“W-why do you ask?” you stutter.

“Your heart’s racing”, he says and rubs your arms, “I can stop if you don’t want to anymore.”

“No, I uhm, no. Hah”, you laugh breathily, “sorry, I was just thinking.”

“Okay? Do you wanna tell me?”

“It’s okay. I don’t wanna make you feel weird.”

“Dude, now you gotta tell me. You can’t just say that. I’m a nosy bastard”, he says, pushing you gently. He laughs.

You laugh, swaying back and forth.

“Yeah I guess”, you say.

“So? Tell me”, he encourages you.

You turn and lift your head so you can look up at him. Hoseok switches between looking into your right and left eye, letting his hands tangle between his legs.

“You gotta pinky promise not to be weird”, you say, lifting your hand.

Hoseok hooks his pinky finger with yours, “promise”, he says and seals it by pressing his thumb against yours, “now open your mouth and talk. You’re making me nervous.”

You lower your hand and take a deep breath, “I’d be down to watch your movies”, you say.

Hoseok gawks at you. His mouth falls open. The silence is intense. His eyes are almost round from how widely he opens them. His reaction is understandable and adorable.

“If you’d be down that is”, you add, giving him a little lopsided smile afterwards.

“I uh”, he lets out and blinks quickly. His air leaves him in a breathy laugh, his right hand comes to touch his chest, “a-are, are you sure?”

You nod your head, “I’m curious what all the talk is about”, you say and scoot closer to nudge his chest, “you’ve got Yoongi still talking about what you guys did that night.”

Hoseok exhales in a laugh and turns his head to the side. His hand shoots up to rub the side of his neck, coyness washes over his features.

“He does?”

“Yeah, totally. You know what he told me on the phone today?”

Hoseok shakes his head. He still isn’t looking at you, fumbling with his own ear nervously.

“That maybe you’ll show me your stuff and that I should have fun. You’ve seriously messed him up back then.”

“Yo dude that’s just- yo”, Hoseok says and stumbles off the couch, running his hands through his fluffy hair. He laughs, but it sounds nervous and so not at all like Hoseok.

“What’s wrong?” you ask him, following him with your eyes. He is prancing up and down, rubbing the nape of his neck.

“You’re messing with me, that’s what up. You?” he looks at you with widened eyes.

“What about me?”

“Outta all the people coming here begging for a fuck, you’d be last I expected this from.”

“Why?” you ask in a chuckle, “you’ve got Yoongi talking about it and Kook mentioning it when I fuck him dumb. I wanna see what the deal is about. Besides, I was just asking if we could watch your stuff, I never mentioned sex.”

Hoseok scoffs, “sure ___.”

You cross your arms in front of your chest and pout, “we don’t have to do it you know? Wow, I feel so attacked right now.”

Hoseok studies you for a moment.

“Yeah uhm, give me a moment”, he says and then leaves the room.

You boil in your loneliness, feeling like dying would be less awkward than what just happened. Out of all the reactions you expected Hoseok to have, pure shock and the need to flee wasn’t one of them. You expected gloating, pride, happiness and cocky teasing, but not for him to run away. You touch your own chest because the embarrassment you feel sits heavy in your chest. This was the most humiliating shit you ever pulled. Fuck, you want to dissolve into thin air.

You pull out your phone to text Yoongi and ask him if he could come pick you up, but before you can, Hoseok is back in the room. He is carrying a translucent hard plastic box filled with cassettes and DVDs.

“Sorry it took me a while, I had to make sure the collection’s complete”, he says and puts the box on the coffee table in front of you, “I still got a box upstairs. Let me get it”, he says and disappears again.

You have never felt lighter before. All the embarrassment from before is gone from your chest. He didn’t quit on you, he just got his stuff. You sit down on the edge of the sofa and begin looking through the box. The movies seem to be from the nineties and two thousands. He’s on a few covers. Naked and with a hard-on. You try not to look at it even if you were literally moments away from watching him fuck on TV.

“Okay, I think this should be everything now. I’ve also got my Only Fans, but you have to subscribe to see that stuff”, Hoseok says and places the second box next to the first one. The box was filled with DVDs and hard drives. He sits down next to you, close enough that your legs were touching, “see anything you like?” he asks, placing his arm around you. He doesn’t let it touch you, instead he just makes you hyperaware of its presence behind you. You feel yourself fluster because Hoseok has never been that close to you with an underlying sexual intention. Of course you and he hug and cuddle as friends, but initiating touch with the near future of fucking is new to you.

You turn your head to him. Hoseok meets your eyes. You and he are just inches away from kissing. The close proximity makes you feel giddy. He’s got really pretty eyes.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, studying your eyes and then your lips.

“Nothing.”

“Nervous?”

You look away, “shut up.”

“Wah look at you”, Hoseok coos and bumps his chest into you playfully, “moments ago you wanted to watch my stuff and now you’re nervous about it.”

“Dude, shut up”, you complain.

Hoseok giggles and pulls you into him with a strong arm just so he can shake you around a little.

“Look at you being nervous.”

“Shut up”, you whine, “I’ll punch you in the balls, I’m serious.”

“Hey, hey don’t ruin what’ll benefit you later. My balls are precious cargo, ___.”

You roll your eyes, shoving him off of you, “you’re annoying.”

“Why? I’m just saying.”

“Urgh whatever”, you say and look back into the boxes.

Hoseok scoots closer and reaches into the first box. He pulls out a DVD. He is on the cover, oiled up and with his dick in his hands. You are looking right at it if you wanted to or not. It’s well-shaped, an impressive length and just girthy enough that you have to do a double take. It almost looks – to put it frankly – just a little bit out of place on him. He is a very petite guy, slender and fit, and his cock looks almost massive on his body. His elegant fingers look so small around it.

“Your dick’s huge, dude. What the hell?”

Hoseok laughs, “right? It’s my vampire cock though. People never noticed, but it comes in handy when you can grow your dick.”

“I can imagine. For porn it’s practical”, you say and glance at his face. 

He meets your eyes.

“I hope you know that this is really fucking awkward for me.”

He chuckles, “it’s not awkward for me.”

“I know. You’re an exhibitionist.”

“Right”, he nudges you gently, “don’t be awkward. It’s just me naked and very hard.”

He makes you laugh which lessens the awkwardness. 

“Yeah, right that’s the issue here. You’re my best friend and now I’m looking at your boner. I really didn’t think this through. Dude, that’s what happens when you massage me, I say stuff.”

“I’m your best friend?” he sounds moved. 

“Yeah. Well. Technically Yoongi’s like my bestest friend, but you’re my best friend. You know?”

“This just got really emotional right now. Thank you, ___”, he says and drapes his arm over you to pull you into a soft temple kiss. 

You lean into it, feeling good about it.

“You’re one of my best friends too”, he says and gives you a little squeeze, “we don’t have to do this, you know? It’s okay if you changed your mind.”

“No, it’s fine. I don’t wanna stop. I just have to live with the fact that now I know how huge your dick is.”

He laughs and lifts the DVD into your vision, “wanna know why I picked this?” 

“Cause your cock’s huge?”

He laughs, “no it’s because this is the movie I watched with Yoongi that got him all horny”, he says and flips the cover. His co-star is on the back, showing off his oiled-up hole. You do another double take not for cock reasons, but because the actor looks way too similar to Yoongi. Hoseok, who saw your eyes flit back for a second glimpse, grins, “you’re seeing it too, aren’t you?”

“I do. What the hell?” you gasp, grabbing the cover to get a closer look, “are sure that that’s not Yoongi and he just erased your memories back then?”

Hoseok laughs, “it could be a theory. But no, that’s Niragi. We did a few films together, but then lost contact.”

“It’s crazy how similar they look. Except for maybe their holes.”

Hoseok snort laughs, “___”, he gasps and nudges you.

You snicker, glancing at him, “I’m just saying. Yoongi’s not that loose.”

“I know. I felt it”, Hoseok says and looks at your lips.

You feel it, just as you feel your heart speed up because of it.

“We could watch that if you want”, he whispers.

“Intriguing, but I wanna see you act with a woman. Got something that looks like me?”

He chuckles, “babygirl, no one’s ever come close to your beauty”, he partially jokes.

You roll your eyes and nudge his chest, “sweet talker.”

He smirks and shrugs his shoulders. He gives your lips one last hungry gaze then finally looks back into the boxes, “I’ve got something you could like. You like female gaze stuff, don’t you?”

“Do I give off those vibes?”

“With the men you date? Yeah.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you ask in a laugh.

“They’re at your feet worshipping your every step. I’d be surprised if they even as much as called you bad girl in bed.”

You snort, “you’d be surprised then.”

“Mhm, surprise me”, Hoseok purrs and pulls out a black hard drive, “that’s where the good shit is”, he says and stands up, “get ready for a good show ‘cause I fucked like rent’s due in this movie.”

“I’m expecting great things, you know that don’t you?”

Hoseok squats down in front of his TV.

“Yeah, I do”, he glances at you over his shoulder. He lifts it after a second and giggles, “shit, I’m nervous now. You’re gonna watch my shit.”

You study him. He is so attractive to you right now. Shit, you’re getting horny. It’s so easy to get you turned on.

“Or, I don’t know, we could skip the movie and make out instead?”

Hoseok hesitates. Hoseok takes a deep breath. Hoseok looks at your lips. And Hoseok places the hard drive aside just to stand up and hurry to you. He falls to his knees in front of you, placing his hands on your knees. Like this, you are almost face to face, sharing intense silence and even more intense eye contact.

“Is this a yes?” you ask him.

He nods his head, looking at your lips.

You move in, but Hoseok moves back.

“Mhm?” you are confused.

“I just need to know that this isn’t gonna ruin what we have”, he says. You never heard him with such seriousness in his voice before, “I like you so much and I don’t wanna lose you just ‘cause of one night. If tonight’s gonna fuck us up, I don’t wanna continue.”

“It’s not gonna ruin it for me. You?”

“It’s not gonna ruin it, no fuck”, he laughs breathily, “fuck, I wanted to make out with you for ages. Not that I’m one of those desperate dudes thinking they’re friendzoned, it’s just that I kiss my friends if they’re into it. Or fuck them. And show them my porn.”

You laugh, “I know, Hobi. We’re not traditional. None of us.”

“Yeah, it’s the fucking best”, he says and moves in, cupping your cheek with both hands. His nose brushes yours, your heart skips a beat. He is looking at your lips as he talks, caressing your cheeks, “one last chance.”

“Shut up, Hobi”, you whisper and pull him in with your hand at the nape of his neck.

Hoseok stumbles into you, moaning against your lips as he scrambles to find your rhythm. You didn’t give him a difficult rhythm to follow, no, Hoseok is just simply overwhelmed by the sensation of feeling your lips on his’.

You pull back. Hoseok is looking at your lips with half-lidded eyes and a faint smile.

“Did you brush your teeth?” you ask him.

“Yeah”, he says and pulls you back into the kiss. His hand comes in contact with the side of your face before naturally gliding down to hold the side of your neck. His fingers are long enough that you can feel them brush against the nape of your neck. The touch sends the biggest shivers down your spine.

You moan into the kiss and hook your arms behind his head, tangling your fingers deep in his hair. It’s softer than you imagined it to be and that means a lot because you imagined it to be soft. Hoseok also kisses so much better than you imagined him to kiss. He knows just when to give your lips a little suck, when to involve his teeth and when to let you do your thing. His tongue also knows exactly when to trace your lips to make you crave more.

“Shit, you’re so good”, Hoseok murmurs between kissing you, standing up with his arms hooked under your legs. He lifts you off the couch easily, purring deeply when you press yourself closer and bite his lower lip. You are squirming in his arms. Just as Hoseok had thought. You’re into getting carried.

He bounces you in his arms and finally allows his tongue to stay involved for longer than a small trace. You moan, meeting his kisses with eagerness. His lips are so soft, he tastes so good and whenever he bounces you there is friction against your pussy. 

Hoseok purrs, walking with a dizzy head. He is so happy for his vampire senses right now, because you are stealing his sanity. This isn’t the first kiss you and he shared, but it feels like it to him. The night at the masquerade ball is a memory in his mind these days. It happened so many years ago and is tainted by the fun influence of alcohol. But this isn’t the result of alcohol, this is untainted and real. Hoseok almost stumbles up the stairs because he’s so excited.

He stops once he is upstairs, pressing you against the wall to break the kiss.

“Shit baby. Can I call you baby for tonight?” he rasps and begins kissing neck.

You roll your head back, revealing your vulnerable spots to him.

“Yeah, you can”, you sigh, playing with his hair and sending shivers down his spine in the process.

“You’re so fucking hot, baby. Fuck”, Hoseok moans. His breath tickles your skin, his lips follow. It feels so good that you can’t stop gasping and squirming in his arms.

There was another occasion where you and he shared a kiss. Back when Alpha was still evil and you still hated Yoongi, you came to Hoseok’s room to comfort him after a fight with Yoongi. You and Hoseok talked and somehow the conversation shifted into you giving him a kiss. Back then, Hoseok was high after smoking too much weed and the kiss felt blurry to him.

Tonight feels like fucking ecstasy to him. He is clear in the head and gets to kiss you so fucking passionately. He growls, letting his fangs grace your skin. This is turning him on so fucking bad. He sucks needily.

“Ah, Hobi”, you gasp, arching your back.

The contact breaks because he pulled back.

“Sorry, fuck”, he apologises, kissing the tender spot. He got too excited and sucked a hickey onto your skin. Now the spot is pulsating in sensitivity, “fuck, I can’t believe this is real. You’re so fucking sexy. Fuck, baby”, he growls and rolls his hips into you. His clothed cock grinds against your clothed pussy, sending electric tingles through your bodies.

You and he moan at the same time. You pull him closer while he chases you with another thrust.

You tug his head up by his hair and give him a second of droopy eye contact before you push him onto your lips. He finds your rhythm instantly, sharing the sloppiest tongue kisses with you. He growls into you, breaking away from the wall to carry you to his room. It’s not far anymore and he needs you under him.

He doesn’t bother closing the door because it’s just you and him in this big house. Nobody can run in on you and it doesn’t matter if the door is closed or not, he’ll have you screaming for him either way. No door will keep the noises out.

He places you on top his bed and steps back to take off his shirt. He throws it onto the ground, looking at you with lowered eyes.

“Couldn’t you have turned the lights on?” you ask in a chuckle.

“Ah yeah, sorry I forgot you can’t see in the dark”, he says and turns on his bedside lamp, "better?" 

You look at him instantly, letting your eyes run up and down his torso. Hoseok falls into a pose instantly, taking off his sweats as he does. He keeps his briefs on. They’re the bikini cut type, dark blue and bulging in the front. He is very obviously hard, forcing your eyes to stay on his crotch.

“You’re so hot”, you say, writhing needily.

“Thanks”, he says and climbs onto bed. He takes the spot above you, claiming your lips in a kiss. He keeps his left hand rested beside your head while his right hand dances down your body to play with the hem of your sweats. Your lips tremble against his’, your hands touch his chest. He breaks the kiss but keeps close, “is that okay for me to do?”

“Yeah” you allow him, lifting your hips.

“Thank you. You can always stop this”, he says and takes off your pants.

“I know. You too”, you tell him, writhing needily.

Hoseok wastes no time and takes off your boxers as well, throwing them on the bed beside him. The hoodie he borrowed you is long enough that it covers your pussy. You squirm on the sheets, pressing your thighs together as best as possible. 

“Nervous?” he asks.

“A little. You?”

“Yeah, dude”, he laughs breathily, “I’m so fucking nervous. I could shit myself.”

You laugh, “please don’t.”

He snickers, “mhm no, I won’t”, he whispers and kisses your neck. 

You close your eyes, rolling your head to the side as a happy sigh slips past your lips. 

Hoseok pushes your legs apart with his knees, running his right hand down your torso while his left is propped up beside your head. He listens to your heartbeat for any kind of change. It is racing and increases in speed the further down his hand dances. 

Hoseok nudges your head so it rolls to the other side and he can kiss your neck there. You purr softly, squirming under him. Your pulse is fluttering. Hoseok moves closer to your pussy. Your heart skips a beat. He swerves past your heat and feels up your inner thighs instead.

Up and down. Up and down. Hoseok traces your soft skin with just his fingertips. He comes close enough to your pussy that you know his touch is there and yet never close enough that you can feel it. It’s making you squirm more and more. 

You reach up, placing your hands on his chest.

“Hobi”, you sigh, sliding your fingers to his nipples. You rub them gently, eliciting a deep purr from him.

“Mhm keep going. I like it”, he rasps and bites your earlobe softly, “is it okay for me to touch your pussy?”

“Yes, is okay. You fucking tease”, you allow him, rolling your hips up.

“Mhm yeah”, he agrees and dances his fingers up your inner thigh.

You shiver. The thought that soon you will feel his touch is making his fingers feel so much better on your skin. 

Hoseok touches you.

“Ah”, you let out, feeling his chest vibrate in a deep purr. His fingers part you for him, starting off at your entrance and painting a path up to your clit. He does a swirl when he’s reached her, then dances his fingers down to your entrance again. It is a gentle touch, barely any pressure is involved. You have to keep squirming because these kinds of touches always feel so much more intense. 

Hoseok puts distance between your neck and his lips. He studies your face and how you have it scrunched in pleasure. He takes a shaky breath, bundling the sheets next to your head. He’s so into this.

“I wanna taste you”, he confesses, “is it ok-” 

“Yeah…” you interrupt him in a breathy voice and your body writhing sensually.

“Shit, you’re hot”, he rasps and abandons you for the sake of shimmying down. He kneels by the bed and wraps his arms around your thighs, pulling you closer to his face.

He looks up. Your eyes are focused on the ceiling, you are breathing heavily. Pretty. He thinks you’re so pretty. 

He switches his gaze to your pussy. Your sweetened scent is taking up his senses. He lowers his eyes halfway, running them over your exposed heat. Kissing made you wet. It sticks to you and waits to be devoured. 

“So fucking pretty”, Hoseok growls deeply and connects his mouth with your pussy. 

He drags his tongue through your folds, starting on your entrance until he reaches your clit. You gasp, hold your breath and release it in a quiet whimper. 

Hoseok purrs, pressing his tongue against you. He shakes his head, grinding on you this way. This is still a warm up. He’s barely began. You’re so sweet and he needs all of it on his tongue. No wonder your boys are obsessed. Hoseok feels himself get addicted as well. 

He stops shaking his head and moves it so his tongue dances up your pussy. He flicks it against your clit, feeling your thighs twitch in reaction. So he does it again. He flicks his tongue against your clit quickly, holding your thighs as they begin trembling. 

“Oh god”, you whisper and reach for his hair. You stop yourself. You drop your hand. 

“It’s okay. Hold on if you need it”, he allows you and uses the moment to also praise you, “your pussy tastes so good. Fuck, I wanna devour you.” 

“O-oh god”, you stutter out and writhe. 

“Mhm, so sweet”, Hoseok purrs, burying his face back in your heat. His nose is grinding against you as he sucks on your clit. He keeps you pinned with his strong arms around your thighs, making you take every single second of the hungry feast. 

You whimper and reach for his hair to grab it desperately. Your other arm lies itself over your own eyes. 

“Fuck. Hoseok….”

Hoseok closes his eyes and moans into you. He releases your clit, slurping up his drool running down your folds. You tug and twist his hair, trembling in his hold. 

“Hold onto me, that’s it. Good girl”, he lulls his words because you’ve got him pussy drunk. It’s only been a few moments, Hoseok is aware, but he fucking loves eating pussy. Especially when that pussy belongs to his pretty best friend with her pretty moans and prettier taste. 

Hoseok lowers himself for the sake of burying his tongue in your pussy. His long fingers grip your hips and tilt them for easier access. His nose is pressed against you, grinding into you each time he fucks his tongue deep. 

“Hoseok oh god”, you get out and choke out a moan, arching your back because it’s impossible to stay still when he is filling you up like this. 

He breaks away, letting his spit connect himself with you. 

“So fucking sweet, baby. You’ve got such a heavenly pussy”, he praises and spits on her for contrast.

“Ah”, you flinch at the feeling, writhing seconds later when Hoseok slurps up the sinful mess, “Hobi please.”

Hoseok moans, looking up at you again. You’re begging. You’re that type of person. He slips his hand into his briefs to get his cock out because the revelation makes his cock ache. He jerks it off desperately, fucking his tongue deep into your sweet pussy. Those people are his favourites. Oh so ruined by pleasure they start begging without knowing what they’re even begging for. He fucking loves them. 

Fuck, he wants to drag every single plea from your tongue. Hoseok furrows his brows and growls against you, speeding up his tongue as he presses himself as close as possible. 

“Oh god, please”, you keen, twisting his hair. Your thighs close around his head. You have to grab more of him or otherwise you are losing yourself. He is so fast and sloppy. And so chillingly cool. Because he only consumed blood bags lately, his skin is cold to the touch and yet his mouth carries enough warmth to give you a constant change of temperature. One second his cold nose is grinding against your clit and in the next, his hot tongue follows. The contrast is keeping you on edge and desperate for more. 

“Please ah”, you beg and grab his wrist. 

Hoseok untangles his left hand from your thigh, sliding it together with your hand. You squeeze him instantly. Your palm is damp and hot.

You writhe and shake, pressing out another plea.

Hoseok growls, looking up at you with darkened eyes. You’re so fucking precious. Look at you needing to hold his hand. You are squeezing him oh so desperately that he wonders if you want to never let go again. He brushes his thumb over your knuckles in soothing and begins concentrating his licks on your clit. 

No more playing around. He needs you shaking. 

He switches between licking your clit and sucking on it, combining the two sensations until they become this electric blend of never ending pleasure.

“This is gonna make me cum”, you get out and whimper, writhing on the sheets. 

Good. Hoseok wants you to climax. This is all he is working towards right now. Your sweet, sweet orgasm on the tip of his tongue. Hoseok dreamed about it for years. He hate fucks his own fist in desperation, making love to your pussy in contrast. 

“Hobi this is- ah”, you press out and shudder. You tug at his hair, closing your thighs tighter around his head. 

He can hear your blood rush deep inside your muscles. It is rushing and pulsating oh so fucking quickly. He squeezes his eyes shut and sucks your clit between his lips to keep it there and swirl his tongue over it.

“Ah”, you get out and grow silent. You tense up before growing slack within the blink of an eye. Your pussy begins throbbing under his tongue. He’s got you. 

“Oh god, ah”, you mewl, filling the air with squeaky moans afterwards. This feels so good. Your legs feel like jello, the heat in your pussy is unbearable. He’s got you climaxing so fucking hard that you actually feel too ruined to keep breathing.

You grab his hair and fuck your hips up against his face, needing it to last so much fucking longer. 

Hoseok lets you hump his face with desperate moans leaving him. He keeps his tongue stuck out, basking in every new layer of sweetness you cover his nose with. Shit, he won’t get rid of your scent for days. It’s so deeply burned into him. Hoseok��s in fucking heaven, soiling his hand in his excitement. He isn’t orgasming, he is just very leaky. 

“Oh go-god”, you soon drop into the sheets, shuddering in the aftermaths of your high. Your fingers fall from his hair and let go of his hand, “holy fuck.” 

Hoseok purrs and gives your clit a kiss. He sucks on her one last time even if you flinch in overstimulation. You had to take it, Hoseok needed one last reminder of your sweet taste. 

“Good girl”, he rasps and smiles, “you’re such a good girl, babygirl.”

You mewl quietly, squirming from the praise. 

Hoseok drops your thighs for the sake of feeling up your sides as he kisses a path up to your face. His hard cock keeps leaking onto you as he goes. He can’t help it, he’s so fucking needy for more.

He kisses your neck. You press into him instantly, rolling your head to the side until your nose brushes against his cheek. 

Hoseok lifts his head, meeting your droopy gaze. You smile and giggle. Hoseok feels his tummy flutter. He gives you his prettiest heart-shaped smile and a little giggle with a nose scrunch. 

“We just did that”, you say.

“Yeah right. I loved it”, he says.

“Me too”, you confess and touch his mouth.

Hoseok lets you with bated breath and parted lips. You are so mesmerised by his lips, looking so utterly enchanted by them.

“Your lips are pretty”, you whisper and trace one specific spot repeatedly, “you’ve got a mole there. It’s pretty.”

“Uhm”, Hoseok lets out and lowers his head because he’s actually flustered.

You snicker and drop your hand to instead touch his wrist.

“Can I suck your cock?” 

Hoseok lifts his head again in shock, “sorry?”

“Can I suck your cock? I promise I won’t bite it off.”

He laughs, feeling his entire body tingle in butterflies. You snicker, gazing up at him with sparkly, yet lustful eyes. 

“Can I?” you ask, tracing his pecs with your nails. His nipples harden instantly, throbbing oh so needily when you brush your fingers over them.

“Fuck, I’m fucked what the fuck”, he lets out and rolls off of you.

“Why?” you ask, straddling his lap.

Hoseok sits up, gripping your hips. Your wet pussy is dripping onto his thigh, your weight is like heaven on his lap. He gazes up at you, drinking in every fucking inch of your face.

“I’m so fucking into you that it’s giving me butterflies”, he whispers.

“Good”, you say and push him down by his chest. He falls, letting out a breathy moan as his back hits the sheets. His hair is ruffled, his hands fall on each side of his head and stay there.

“Stay”, you order and crawl off of him. You run your hands down his body and take off his briefs as you go, eliciting goosebumps to the surface of his skin. He moans quietly, chasing your touch with squirms.

“Feels good”, he whispers and rolls his hips up in synch with your hands parting his legs by rubbing his inner thighs, “ah, yeah feels really good. Hah”, he lets out and laughs breathily.

Hoseok’s bed is low enough that you can kneel comfortably and reach his cock. You do so, dragging him to the edge as you fall to your knees. Hoseok mewls in reaction, gasping for fucking air. His body is burning up. You are fucking messing with him. Your knees hit the floor. The fluffy rug under you gives extra cushioning.

You reach the end of his inner thighs, rubbing circles into the spot where his groin blends into them. Hoseok parts his legs further. His cock twitches needily. You can also watch how his chest begins heaving up and down as his breathing speeds up in excitement.

You glide your right hand to his cock, placing your palm against the upper side of it while your fingers stay stretched. You don’t want to give him too many touches yet. You want your tongue to be the first thing he feels.

Hoseok sucks in air.

You move in and connect your tongue with his base, licking up a thick, wet stripe along the underside of his cock until ending it with a quick flick on his tip.

“Shit”, Hoseok releases his air in a breathy moan, closing his fingers around the sheets right next to his head. He can barely grip them, but it has to be enough. Your tongue feels like fucking heaven on his cock and he’s already burning up.

You hum and drag your tongue down his cock again, swirling it over his balls to get a good feel of them. His skin is soft and cool against your tongue. He throbs at the first contact, making you want more because it was so delicious to have him throb for you. You suck the sensitive skin of his balls between your lips just long enough that it stings a little.

Hoseok reacts in a throaty moan and his hips squirming restlessly. You release him again, guiding your wet tongue up his cock in repeated small, yet terribly sloppy licks. It results in his shaft getting all slickened with your spit. You use it to finally wrap your fingers around him and jerk him off, taking his cockhead between your lips at the same time.

“A-ah”, Hoseok moans, reaching down to grab the back of your head. His hips buck up, forcing his cock to glide over your tongue, and drops his hips again, which almost makes his cock flop out of your greedy mouth.

You let him hold your head. He clearly needs it. You force down the cocky smirk and instead hum around him as you begin bopping your head up and down his cock. You jerk off what you decide not to fit inside right now and dance your left hand up his torso until you can play with his nipples.

Hoseok is moaning so much. He tries not to be too loud, but he genuinely can’t stop his voice from working. He gasps for air and each time he exhales, it happens naturally that he makes the neediest of sounds.

You like what he does. You find great enjoyment in making men noisy for you. There is something very satisfying about using your mouth or hands to turn an otherwise well-spoken man into a moaning mess. Somehow making Hoseok moan feels even more satisfying to you. It is as if you want to prove something to him and show off with what you can do, so hearing him be so incredibly noisy feels as if you are being very successful.

You slip off of him for a moment, spitting on his cock just to pick it up with your hand and spread it in quick movements.

“Holy shit”, Hoseok whispers and arches off the sheets, “ah, a-ah what the fuck?”

His legs are shaking and he can’t do anything against it. Not many people manage to do that to him. Hoseok drops his hand from your head to instead grip the sheets and twist them. His cock twitches and throbs so nicely between your fingers, leaking translucent desperation which aches to be tasted.

“What the actual fuck?” he gets out and squeaks in a moan.

You purr and take him back inside, sucking off his wetness until he writhes under you. Now with his tip incredibly sensitive, you finally take him inside as deep as you can.

Hoseok moans your name and throws his head back, resulting in the sheets to crinkle and his chest to stick up into the air. Your fingers can’t reach his nipples this way, but you don’t mind. You take his balls between your fingers instead, fondling them as your throat jerks off his cock.

“You’re making me cum”, he gets out and groans. His right foot meets your thigh as somehow in his shakes, he manages to step on you. He doesn’t slip off, instead he uses the leverage to arch his back. He gasps, throbbing deep inside your mouth, “I’ll cum in your mouth, it’s gon-gonna happen, ah fuck.”

You moan around him, sending vibrations through his cock.

“Now, ah ___”, Hoseok moans and drops in the sheets as his orgasm takes a hold of him. He twitches and throbs inside you, covering your throat with his warm cum until it gets too much to hold and it trickles out of you. You slurp and suck hungrily, using the excess cum to jerk his cock.

Hoseok is quiet for eight seconds and then his voice finally comes back to him in a guttural growl, “holy fuuuck. What the fuuuck? Shiiit.”

He rolls his hips up needily, riding out the electric waves until the fire takes a hold of him.

“Fuck, okay. Stop”, he says, flinching in overstimulation.

You suck and suck on his tip even if it’s burning up.

“Stop please”, he begs, touching your head with trembling fingers, “hurts. Stop. Please.”

You slide off of him with a delicious moan and swallow, licking your lips just to get the droplets he left outside as well. He tastes so sweet. It’s insane how yummy vampires are. It’s like they are begging to be feasted upon. How paradisically ironic.

“Holy shit, ___. What the fuck was that?” Hoseok gets out as his legs twitch in the aftershocks.

“What do you mean? I sucked your cock”, you act oblivious on purpose, kissing paths up his thighs.

“You made my legs shake.”

“And?”

Hoseok sits up and cups your face just to pull you to your feet and therefore into a kiss. He uses his powers to get you on top of the bed and under him again. His knee is between your legs, his hands are restless on your body. He is moaning greedily, licking into your mouth as if he wanted to taste himself on you. You let him, tangling your fingers in his soft hair as your hips naturally begin squirming on his thigh. Shit, sucking his cock made you so wet. You can feel it sticking to his skin. You squirm harder, chasing the sensations. It feels so good to grind on him.

“What the fuck”, Hoseok breaks the kiss to instead very sloppily suck on your neck, “what the fuck? I’m done. That’s how you suck cock?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“Dude, no wonder you’ve got your men wrapped around your fingers. Holy shit”, he babbles and shivers, “you’ve got me shivering in the aftershock. My legs never shake like this.”

“Mhm good”, you purr and squirm sensually.

“You’re fucking insane”, he rasps and reaches between your bodies. He can feel how wet you are and he is still hard as ever. You’ve also messed with his mind enough that he can’t think clearly anymore. All he wants is to fuck your pussy. The proper, respectful Hoseok is gone. You’ve turned him feral with your tongue. He shifts so his hips were between your legs and then drags his heavy cock through your folds. They feel so wet and puffy around his tip, moving right around him as he guides his cock against you.

“Oh? Ah”, you gasp and open your eyes, meeting his gaze, “Hobi…” you get out, scratching down the back of his neck just to grab his shoulders in the end.

His eyes are glowing red. His ivory cheeks are covered in black veins. You rarely see him in his vampiric state, so this is properly messing you up.

“I wanna take you”, he says and slaps his cockhead against your clit repeatedly. It sounds wet, makes you flinch and moan softly with each impact, “do you want me to?”

You nod your head, “yes.”

Hoseok gives your clit one last spank, then drags his cock down to your soaked entrance. He applies pressure and slips in without resistance.

“Holy fuck”, you and he get out at the same time, resulting in your eyes to meet knowingly.

“Jinx”, you joke and laugh softly.

Hoseok’s lips curl into a fond smile. He chuckles and tilts his head to the side, using the movement to lower himself to your face.

“Kidding, you can talk”, you say, making him laugh just as much as he moans. It results in those really deep, sexy chuckles, the kind which really messes with your sanity.

“You’re too much”, he rasps and bottoms out. He stays like this for a moment, closing his eyes to really enjoy how your walls pulsate and throb around him. He can also feel your heartbeat in them. It’s a vampire thing and means that it takes everything inside of Hoseok not to let his cock grow. He doesn’t know if your boys give you their vampire cocks and just in case they don’t, he doesn’t want to overwhelm you. Oh how sweetly naïve he is.

He furrows his brows and purrs deeply, nodding his head as if he agreed with what is happening right now.

“Yeah, you’re definitely fucking incredible”, he says and peels his eyes open halfway, “can I move?”

“Yeah. Move.”

With your consent, Hoseok finally picks up a rhythm. He really drags out his strokes, including a skilled roll of his hips each time he bottoms out. He knows that he doesn’t need to go fast to make you gasp.

And it works. Two strokes in and you release your first gasp, closing your eyes instinctively as his cock fucks the hottest electricity to the surface.

“How’s that, baby?” he asks in a whisper as his hand caresses the top of your head gently.

You nod your head, giving him a little mewl.

“Mhm, it’s fucking amazing for me too”, he says and closes his eyes, “shit, you feel so good.”

He straightens up, pressing his right hand into the pillow and grabbing a bundle of it. His muscles tense and shift under his ivory skin. The red neon lights really accentuate how strong he was despite his lean frame. He meets your eyes, feeling his stomach tighten in excitement. You look so blissed out, staring up at him with heavy, half-lidded eyes. He gives you a smile, overwhelming you with it to the point where your eyes roll back and close and you let out a needy whimper. You writhe under him, reaching up to grab his wrist.

“You’re so fucking pretty, holy shit”, Hoseok rasps and tenses his jaw.

“Harder”, you breathe.

“Yeah?”

You nod your head, wiggling your hips.

“Fuck baby, that’s hot”, Hoseok moans and gets to his knees. He lifts your legs and wraps them around his waist. You mewl under him, gawking up at him with foggy eyes. The stretch follows seconds later when Hoseok buries his girthy cock in your puffy pussy, bottoming out with a sensual roll of his hips and a deep purr rumbling in his chest.

“Hobi…”

“That’s it, take me”, he speaks in a deep voice, keeping you pinned with his ruby eyes, “take a deep breath for me, babygirl.”

You follow, feeling your mind scramble when Hoseok smiles proudly.

“Good job, babygirl. Keep breathing”, he praises and rewards you with deep strokes.

Your breath shudders, your senses blur. He is so rough in his movements and yet they are still so gentle. It is difficult to describe other than that Hoseok knows how to move his fucking hips and he is currently making sure you know that he can.

“That’s it, babygirl. That’s it, keep breathing”, he rasps, sliding his hand to your lower tummy so he can apply gentle pressure.

You writhe and mewl loudly, squeezing your eyes shut. You can feel his cock reshape your insides. He is so fucking deep. Oh god, you are so sensitive inside that every time he bottoms out, you feel fiery pleasure in your entire stomach.

“Fuck, your pussy’s so fucking tight like this. Gotta stretch it all out with my fat cock, mhm?” he taunts, making you whine in both embarrassment and pleasure. He’s got the dirtiest tongue. You feel yourself soaking his cock in reaction.

Hoseok pulls out to the tip, dragging it through your swollen folds. Once, twice, a third time to really mess with your mind. He pushes back inside and gives you his whole length with a harsh thrust. The kind of thrust which knocks a sound out of you and produces the most sinful of slapping sound. You could even feel his heavy balls hit your ass.

“Please…please…”

He moans in bliss from hearing you beg, showing you just how good he can reshape you by pulling out to his tip and fucking into you again. Harshly, just like before. He doesn’t stop after one thrust, keeping the rhythm going as his long fingers slip to your clit to begin circling her.

“Ah! Oh god! Hob-ah a-ah.”

“Feels good, babygirl?”

“Ye-yeah, yeah, yeah”, he fucks the words out of you. You try to nod your head, but you just end up shaking it around on the sheets rather clumsily. It gives your hair such a sexy messiness to it, “yes. Yes, yes, yes please don’t stop”, you chant, clenching around him.

“I won’t. I can do this for hours”, he rasps and fills you with his cock oh so deep.

Hoseok drinks up the view like an obsessed connoisseur. Fuck, you’re the sweetest artwork he ever looked at. He’s got you, doesn’t he? After years and years of imagining how it might be to fuck you, he’s finally got you. And it’s fucking better than any fantasy he could have ever thought up.

“It feels so goo-good”, you sob, spilling tears from the corners of your eyes.

“‘Feels good for me too. Fuck”, Hoseok spits the last word, falling to his hand so he was right above you. Your hips tilt up, allowing his cock to pound you in a better angle. His right hand is still playing with your clit, keeping her throbbing and sensitive. His weight is on you, keeping you where he needs you to be. Wrapped around him and stuffed with cock.

“Hobi”, you mewl, spilling new tears because everything just feels too good.

“Do you like it?”

“Yes, yes ah yes.”

“Fuck, I love hearing that”, he moans, “you’re driving me insane”, he adds and kisses you. He can’t take it anymore. He needs to taste your moans, your sobs and gasps for air. His fangs clash with your teeth messily, but you have enough practice with kissing vampires that you find the right rhythm soon. Sloppy, wet tongue kisses. Desperate sucks and nibbles on each other’s lips. Moments where moans are mixing and breaths intertwine. Your fingers bury themselves deep in his soft hair, his fingers increase the pressure on your clit.

You can’t grasp the passage of time when he’s got you fucked so good. Hoseok doesn’t care about it either, basking in the blissful time vacuum with you as your bodies connect in harsh strokes. Outside the storm calms down. Outside the night arrives with dark skies and quiet streets. While inside, the red lights keep you illuminated and your bodies get ruined in the sweetest way. 

“Holy fuck, Hobi ah”, you whimper, writhing under him. He’s fucked you long enough that you’re almost there.

“Yeah, that’s good mhm? So fucking good”, he lulls, dragging his lips up your neck, “fuck, you’re so fucking wet. Keep creaming my cock baby, I love it.” 

“You’re making me cum soon.”

“Yeah?” he moans against your lips, “fuck that’s hot. Don’t hold back, babygirl. I’ve got you.”

“Hobi, I have to- ah, I have to, to...I have…”

“It’s okay, everything’s okay. Don’t be scared, I’ve got you. I’m right here.”

His words are like the most wonderful hug to you. You feel so safe. He fills you with so much warmth and tingles that you fall over the edge with a whimper of his name and your legs pulling him closer.

Hoseok slows down his thrusts, keeping his cock buried deep and giving you sensual circles so your favourite spots would experience the fire as well. He presses his fingers against your clit, letting her experience warmth and pressure. This feels so good. There are no words for how good he makes you feel.

“That’s it, you’re doing such a good job. Good girl, you’re doing such a good job”, he talks you through it, making it even better with every sweet word he speaks.

You drop the back you didn’t even know you were arching and grab the nape of his neck.

“Hobi, holy fuck”, you choke out and pull his face into the crook of your neck.

“Ah, hey”, he falls with a chuckle and his right hand slamming into the pillow beside your head. It closes around the pillow desperately when seconds later, you are rutting up into him. Your legs are locked around his hips, keeping them from fleeing (not that he wanted to), your pussy is so tight around him.

Hoseok’s voice pitches, his body shudders uncontrollably.

“What are you doing?” he squeaks out, twisting the pillow, “a-ah holy fuck please slow, I’ll cum. Slow, you’re making me cum, s-slow ah.”

“Fill me up, please. Hobi please wanna be creamed”, you beg and twist his hair. You are cockdrunk. There is no denying that. He made you cum so fucking hard that all you want right now is for him to paint your walls white.

“Shit, ah”, he trembles, “shit, holy shit, ah fuck”, he pants and chases your hips in quick ruts. Four strokes it takes him, four strokes and then it gets all too much for him. He climaxes with a pitched moan of your name and his left arm pulling you against his chest.

“Yes, ah Hobi. Thank you”, you mewl, holding him close as his cock fills you with his hottest orgasm.

“You feel so good”, he gets out and drops on top of you. He shudders, exhaling against your neck with a defeated sound leaving him, “holy fuck.”

“Yeah”, you agree, snuggling your cheek against his head. You run your fingers up and down his spine, lingering on his head for some hair play each time you meet it.

“What the actual fuck”, he murmurs.

“Liked it?”

“I’m dead. What the fuck.”

You snicker, sighing happily afterwards.

It takes the two of you a few minutes of silence to really come down. Hoseok keeps lying on top of you, stealing some of your body heat as his cock slowly softens inside you. He’s got you so messy. It is seeping out of you even with his cock inside. You wanted to get up and clean, but he just told you to relax and that he will clean the sheets later.

It was a lull of his words before he grew silent again.

You like the silence. It’s relaxing and helps your brain to reboot. You need that because he really fucked you dumb.

Hoseok lifts his head when his mood lights switch to pink. Silence. His eyes race between yours. He is propped on his elbows, keeping your head caged in safely.

“What?” you ask him.

“Nothing just…” he kisses your lips. It is a sweet kiss. The kind of kiss a lover gives his precious counterpart. It leaves flutters in your chest once he lifts his head again.

Silence.

Eyes race between each other.

The light switches back to red.

He runs the back of his hand down your cheek.

“You’re so beautiful”, he whispers, making your heart flutter.

“You’re beautiful too, Hobi”, you breathe, reaching up to caress his cheek.

His eyes lower just a little bit, a shy smile curls his lips.

“Shit ___, you’ve got me feeling romantic. What have you done to me?” he says and snickers.

“Is that bad?” you ask.

“No, it’s just”, he shudders, “giving me the shivers. Mhm fuck”, he says and nuzzles his face into your neck as he lets out a cute sound. He smooches you just once before the nuzzling continues.

You giggle, wrapping your arms around him in a hug.

“You’re still staying the night, yeah?”

“Of course. Why shouldn’t I?”

“The storm stopped.”

“Right. I didn’t even notice”, you say and giggle when he tickles your ear with his breath.

He chuckles softly, giving you a tender kiss on your ear.

“Fuck, you really did it to me”, he whispers with a smile on his lips and his nose nuzzling into the side of your head.

“The feeling’s mutual, Hobi”, you snicker, ruffling his hair.

“Mhm good, yeah that’s good”, Hoseok says and pulls you closer, “so like, why did it take us years to do that?”

“Our lives have been busy, haven’t they? I feel like it’s only slowly been beginning to calm down.”

“Yeah, right. Shit”, he giggles again, “I’m giddy like a little boy. You’re amazing.” 

“You’re cute, Hobi”, you whisper fondly.

It isn’t necessary to mention that Hoseok will be the one to break the news to Yoongi the next day. Hoseok will drive you to class after shared breakfast and he will pick you up again, he will drive you to the estate and then greet Yoongi with a “she just changed my life.” To which Yoongi lets a small smile escape followed by a kiss to your cheek and a teasing “I thought you wanted to change all our lives, Hoba. What happened?”

[pixiecaps]

BBH: You can’t mess with- with life and death once ones- (Cut off)

Cellbit: IT’S THE ONLY THING THAT MAY FIX MY MARRIAGE! I need to bring his Abuelo back. I killed him, I need- (Cut off)

BBH: No! Just have a nice funeral.

Cellbit: NO! No, Roier wants his Abuelo back. I’m going to bring him back with a ritual. I’m going to bring him back. Dapper, you’re going to help me. Richas, a gente vai trazer o vô dele de volta. Eu vou deixar você dormindo aqui.

BBH: (As Cellbit is speaking) No, no, listen. You can’t- You can’t do that.

Cellbit: Dapper come with me. (Uses the elevator block to go into the room below)

(BBH is heard speaking to Dapper alone in the room above)

BBH: No, Dapper! Dapper! Dapper. This violates Grim Reaper policy.

Dapper: Dad, I am a grim reaper. My entire purpose is to mess with life.

BBH: I know! But that’s the point, Dapper. Our job as grim reapers is to take people who are alive and relocate them to the next plane.

(Cellbit overhears this from the room below and uses the elevator block again to go back up)

Cellbit: I don’t give a shit about life or death! They are below my marriage! My love for Roier is above that! I’ll do anything, I’ll sell my soul, I’ll do any fucking thing to bring this fucking grandpa back!

BBH: Look, I’m just saying if you do this, you won’t bring him back in the same way-

Cellbit: I WILL!

BBH: -You may make the problem worse.

Cellbit: I DON’T CARE! He wants his grandpa back, I’ll bring him his grandpa back.

BBH: Listen, it’s very difficult to bring something back-

Cellbit: I’ll do anything I need. I’ll do anything I need.

BBH: I’m just saying you may not be happy with the results you get.

Cellbit: It just- What it matters is Roier wants his grandpa back, it’s the only way to make my marriage work so I’ll do it. I’ll kill whoever I need, I’ll do whatever I need. I want my husband, I want my future husband, my fiancé back. That’s what matters to me, okay? So, Dapper, come with me. We’re going to do this.

BBH: Oh my goodness, Dapper. You can’t- (Groans) This is a violation.