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blueberryarchive · 1 year ago

Text

𝒍𝒂𝒔𝒔𝒐 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆.

୨ৎpairing: cowboy!jm x reader x preacher!jk

୨ৎword count: 5k

୨ৎgenre: smut, horror, angst

୨ৎtw: dead dove do not eat, mentions of death and gruesome details (human and animal), blood, mentions of arms and physical violence, cursing, smut (blood drinking and playing, period sex, rope play, degrading, dub-con, groping, penetration)

An Ewe and the Captive Bolt (a serie)

Today was his birthday, and for the first time in 28 years, the sky looked like a sheet full of spots. He felt ever since he saw Sirius and Canopus in the sky as two little white suns the night before, that this year was going to be different.

What Park didn't know was that what would be different was the pain he felt on the left side of his arm and his chest. The hot, thick blood soaked his shoulder and eye until it covered his eyelashes. The battered hat clutched in both dusty hands as he entered Carmen's diner, a child's shame on his tight lips.

The poor girl behind the counter dropped the key lime pie from her hands, creating even more noise in the place (which Jimin didn't appreciate being in such a state).

"Christ." She murmured, still static.

"Be a doll and bring me a glass of water, would ya'?" Jimin crawled to one of the seats, grunting as he felt his muscles burn.

The girl approached with a small towel and a terrified look.

"Never seen blood before?"

"No, sir." Her brown eyes were like two walnuts bouncing between Jimin's face and arms. She was adorable, her face round and her hair so curly that she reminded him of his sheep. If she hadn't been the sheriff's daughter, he said to himself every time he saw her.

"Are you hurt, sir? I can call my daddy and-"

"No need for that, sweetheart." He raised his hand. The last thing he needed was to have Montrell in his affairs. "It ain't my blood, it's my horse's"

Apparently, that seemed to affect the young woman more. Jimin was a little offended by her reaction.

"Why don't you bring me a piece of that delicious key lime pie you had in hand and two coffees."

There were more questions in her curved eyebrows, but she just nodded and walked away. Park took off his shirt, leaving a tank top underneath it, with the handkerchief that he kept in his jeans, he began to wet his hands and his face.

His fingers were still shaking from the adrenaline. The shrill sound of the car's tires driving away, the heated laughter cloistered behind the smoked windows, the last sharp sigh of his horse before Jimin ended his suffering. He had to find the bastards who ran over his horse. FH-6077, he read the plate in the distance before crossing the curve, and his brain couldn't stop humming the six digits like a prayer.

The sudden hand on his shoulder calmed the waters, the undoubtable smell of myrrh and tobacco from his companion.

"Happy birthday, buddy." His voice was gentle. If Jungkook ever went above a couple of those decibels, Jimin assumed he was going to die. Even seeing Park's bloody hat on the table and Park's bloodstained boots, he didn't flinch to ask.

Perhaps it was his ecclesiastical nature that gave him the confidence that at one time or another, others would fill the silence with their confessions. But Jimin could see in the father's noble eyes the desperation for an explanation.

"Sure." That was all he said. The girl approached the table with the pie and the coffee.

"Goodnight, Father John." She smiled widely.

"Night, Billie. How's your dad?"

"He really liked your mass today. I did too, I really liked the reading." Jimin noticed how the corners of Billie's lips twitched, contorting herself to try to look prettier for Father John. So obvious and adorable, but of course, Jeon would give nothing more than a shrug and the most predictable questions.

The difference is that Jungkook could fuck the sheriff's daughter. What father didn't want his daughter to be in the sacred hands of Father John?

Father Jeon (or John due to the Americanization of Jungkook's family) was tall, wide like a log, and robust like an unhorned bull. Attractive in every sense, but bland, shy until it hurts.

"'M glad, tell him I will visit Missus Davis next week."

"Do you have a smoke? I'm dying in here."

They both looked at Jimin who was just smiling with his mouth smeared with whipped cream.

"You can't smoke here, sir."

Jimin winked at her, grabbing the white stick that Jungkook handed him as he also sat down to end the unbearable flirting.

"I know, pumpkin. It'll be a quick one, I promise."

The girl didn't say anything else, and she walked away. Disappointment in her walnut eyes.

"I'll marry her in two months." Said Jungkook.

Jimin frowned. Jungkook curled his fingers, pointing for his friend to come closer and light the tip of the tobacco.

"Marry her? You can barely tolerate the poor girl."

"I love her." The father stated as he nodded slowly while he drank his coffee. "She's a good girl, I think she likes me, too."

"Are ya sure?" Jimin joked.

"Where's that bad hoss you've been riding since last month?"

Jimin's blood warmed again, the drags on his cigarette even longer.

"Fuckin' punks ran over 'im and broke his ribs. Had to do it." He pointed to the gun under his hat. The bloody clothes reminded him how clumsy he sure looked trying to pamper a horse that was already three steps away.

FH-6077.

"I'll find them tomorrow."

"I'll help you."

"What are you gonna do?"

They both looked at each other, the watery, electric current between them. Ideas undulated and braided between their cruel smiles.

"Haven't changed a bit, church boy." Smoke weaved into Jimin's blonde hair, his devilish smile vaporizing memories of his teenage pranks.

Jungkook drank the last of his coffee, his face falling back into the same bitter sadness that every father held as if he carried the weight of all the souls and sins of Rivermouth on his back. The silence was long afterward, the black night extended to the mountains, to the sky, to Park's own reflection in the glass. The round face with pronounced lips and rude, detailed eyes, sweet when they feel like it. The spitting image of his mother.

"I have some hippies coming to the ranch tomorrow."

Jungkook nodded, the pressure in the handle increasing, the clack of the cup being clenched by his teeth in a sip. Jimin knew he shouldn't have mentioned the hippies, but it was that ecclesiastical power. He knew that Jungkook hated the smell of pot, the long hair, and the colorful t-shirts, which reminded him of his father, previous father John.

God knows what Jungkook had to witness, the carbonic stench that emanated from that charred skeleton. The tongue pressed between two pieces of blackish board that used to be teeth. The fetid fat that ripped and curdled in the organs. There was not a day in which the poor man did not think about that before going to sleep and found himself face to face with the featureless face of his father, with the incinerated bowls pointed at the eyes of his son. Sitting in the chair under the cross that has sat on that wall since Jungkook's birth.

And Jungkook cried. He would close his eyes and every night, he would grab the skull and make it crunch under his thick hands. The body did not defend itself, it let its boy vent as if he were a sacred entity and knew that at the same time, the next day and every other day, he would appear again in that chair, and Jungkook would never be able to exhaust his anger against him.

"I have to go." It was the only thing he said leaving a ten dollar bill in the table. Park understood. "Go fetch a new hat from my house tomorrow, it's about time you threw that shit in the river."

"Hey."

Jungkook turned around. Jimin stopped smiling.

"Take it home in the morning, I'll make you breakfast before the rodeo."

Jeon looked at the floor with uneasy eyes.

"We'll see."

As he left the diner, the fresh wind conquered the father's soul. Nostalgia washed away his stony face and for the first time in years, he wanted to be a child again. Disappear with Jimin and sleep in the old hayfields of the abandoned Hillside.

He put on his black hat and started walking down the dark street, both hands in his pockets.

Today the smell of boiling fat was stronger than ever, the ghost of his father floated in the swirls of Rivermouth dust and, with it, the remains of the children who were later taken from that same cabin.

The white lace curtains let in the yellowish light of the first rays. The unmade bed, the smell of pine in the sheets.

In one corner of the bed, Park was dressing for the day, the muscles in his shoulder had swollen with the hours and makeshift cloths covered the open, bloody sores. Every so often, he hissed and swore under his breath.

The coffee began to gurgle in the kitchen as he finished putting on his boots, it was barely 6:30, but he already had the eggs frying and the beans hot in the pot. It seemed strange to him that his companion was not already sitting next to the window, Bible open and the first cigarette of the morning in his hand.

He turned off the stove just in time and poured himself a cup. Today he felt more domestic than ever, he had spent the night fixing every detail in the ranch, from the dust on his late mother's china to the rifles displayed in the hallway. To be frank, he spent the entire night cleaning every corner, maybe detailing every object in every room so that at the end of the weekend nothing would be missing, or the crash made him remember how little he's done in 28 damn years.

A porcelain jewelry box his mother had placed in one of the rooms was covered in a thin layer of gray dust; it was his mother's favorite piece. He hadn't opened it since the last time he stole a couple of pearls to buy his first rifle, the red stained his face with shame, and the only thing he could do as an apology was turn the house over with his own handkerchief and clean even the windows. He was surprised that the smell of lye and soap hadn't killed him.

Hearing one of his sheep bleating, he opened the window and decided to lower his chivalry a bit and smoke his first cigarette before Jungkook arrived. In the distance, he could see one of his ewes, fat and terribly woolly, walking slowly towards the barn. She was pregnant and Jimin knew that there were maybe 24 hours left, her skin was bulging, and her bleating was painful and whiny, she couldn't take it anymore.

The curtain caressed Jimin's face with the wind that was beginning to warm up, he took a drag of the cigarette and turned his body towards the kitchen. He felt a strange itch in his chest, the kind that bothers him when he senses a spirit floating near him. The greenish branches and the smell of sausages were mixed up with the subtle gallop of a skinny horse and the unexpected smell of myrrh.

He walked to the front door and opened it to find Jeon's promised hat. He sighed as he saw that not only was it one of his black deathly-looking hats, but he had also planted him at breakfast, sure to go see the grandmother of his very unexpected but predictable fiancée.

Long story short, Jimin had to eat four cowboys' breakfast and the whole pot of coffee, and the hat he would wear to the rodeo today didn't match his outfit at all. Dozing was the only thing he could do after loosening the buckle on his belt and putting the hat on his face.

The leather furniture was sinking under his body, the soft song of the river in the distance, and the birds pecking at his roof took him back to his childhood. Sleeping wherever he wanted without any purpose. He dreamed of the gallops of his first horse: Champ, a Tennesee Walking that had belonged to his grandfather, black as coal, glistening in the sun of his student days and running like a devil in a hurry. He dreamed that he was in public showing the animal to auction it.

"How do you encourage a horse to move forward, Sage?" A woman in the audience shouted.

"I don't know, kick his ass or something." Heavenly laughter coaxed him out of his lethargy.

His body sat on the furniture before he knew it, sweat covering his back, veins marked on the left side of his face. He ran with the unconscious weight of his body to the window, pushing the curtain aside with his finger until he saw the circular corral where his star horse, Arrow, was located, with a stranger on his back.

His fingers reached for the rifle lying on the rocking chair.

The blonde girl staggered on top of the animal while her thin fingers held his hair tightly. The horse's sleepy eyes moved from side to side, snorting as he searched for direction.

"Come on, horsie!" The girl snapped her teeth and laughed as the horse curved to one side. "Are you seeing, Hunter? It's moving."

Hunter was smiling foolishly, lying on the grass, his thin, wavy hair fluttering around his ears like a delicate flower. The dark glasses covered his wounded deer's eyes.

"You're such a cowgirl, my love." His voice was sarcastic.

And with a shot into the air, silence muted nature. He silenced the current, the clucking of the chickens that fluttered in the distance. Hunter, Sage, and Blondie turned to the cowboy who walked slowly across the grass towards them. A whistle from the stranger caused Arrow to raise his front paws until Blondie fell with a screech to the hard ground.

"Kitty!"

"Woah, cowboy." Jimin's silky voice approached, placing the buttplate of his rifle on his shoulder, aiming directly between Hunter's eyebrows. "Move slowly, ya wouldn't want to scare an alarmed man any further, now would ya?"

"I'm sorry, sir."

Blondie or Kitty or whatever her name was, rolled her red eyes.

"What the hell are you doing on my ranch?"

"Let's go, Hunter. I'm not going to talk to cornman." Sage was the tallest of them all, her shorts squeezed her thighs until they were overflowing, and her hair was long like a beach princess.

"Watch your fucking language around me, missy." Gritted Jimin removing the safety on the rifle.

"Sage, for once do you want to shut the fuck up."

Hunter raised his hands, sweat beginning to gather on his wrinkled forehead. His eyes shone as he heard the heels slowly approaching behind Jimin.

"Love." He exhaled.

"Is this part of southern charm, Mr. Park?" Coquettish, the dying accent of someone who once lived in these parts, daring, too much for her own good. But still, he lowered the gun, spitting on the ground.

When he turned around it was as if a pink burst of glitter and vanilla had slapped him from the stupor of sleep. The glasses were square and large, they covered almost her entire face, that was the first thing Jimin saw.

"Ma'am, are these your friends?"

"We are your visitors, cornman." Jimin ignored the Californian's irritating nasal whine as the sweet girl in front of him approached little by little with a smile. He felt the itch again, the one that senses a spirit floating nearby, this spirit was the nebulous memory of your face.

"Could you speak again, ma'am?"

"Sorry?" You laughed, and it was like birds were chirping in your throat. "You're Ari's son, right? I really liked the jams your grandmother used to make."

And oh, it couldn't be more obvious. It couldn't be more evident, not even because God had exploded your name in the sky. It was the stunning makeup and hair wax, it was the sequined heels and Patsy Cline songs reverberating from the old speakers. It was your name in the newspaper almost every week.

It was your sailor costume, the jam falling from your humiliated face, it was Jimin's hand caressing the bulge in his jeans that same night on top of the hay, imagining how you ate the strawberry jam that his mother made.

Now you called yourself Love, the name was as obvious as you were. Of course, your hippie name is Love.

"Miss Peaches '57." His voice was soft and trembling. Your eyes opened in surprise.

"Gods, I didn't even remember that title." You put your hand on your mouth, dressed as a Hollywood girl but your loving manners were indelible.

"Excuse me, where are my manners? Jimin Park." He raised his hand for you to place in yours, light and trusting. A chaste kiss to the back of your hand without stopping to see your eyes behind the orange glasses.

"You can call me Love."

"A sight to sore eyes, Love."

"Always." You responded. Jimin swallowed hard, trying to hide that nostalgic smile, 'pure in every way. With that same smile, he invited the four to go through their rooms, the tension subsiding fluidly with each laugh that came from your blessed lips.

It was as if you said one thing and the sun came a little closer, deorbiting out to your echoes, warming the room and Jimin's cheeks.

"Can you help me look for my suitcases?" You touched the shoulder of the cowboy who agreed and guided you to the front door. Like the good boy his mother raised, he opened the door for you, and outside stood a Packard Caribbean: long, yellow, and sleek as a sunflower.

"Nice ride."

"Thank you, it's from Hunter's dad. He gave it to him for his birthday. Isn't it a beauty?"

"Beautiful." His nose scrunched watching your stomach bulge down your cute little top, hard nipples contouring the pink fabric. You still were just good enough to eat.

Examining the car little by little, a detail began to emerge in his memory. Among them, glowing in the heat of that morning were the six digits from the night before: FH-6077.

When it came to religion Jimin didn't have many opinions.

As a kid his mother went to church every Sunday and took him. He saw the statues of Jesus suffering with indifferent eyes, he made his first communion only because they promised to give him a sip of wine with the host, he listened to the stories of death and plagues as if they were cartoons.

God was a very complicated being, the more he thought about him, the heavier his body became.

To his surprise, God was nothing more than a sham, a wall between you and him. The host, that time Jungkook's father offered him, tasted like nothing and the wine went down his young throat tasteless.

"Body of Christ." You said, the music playing crisply on the record player Hunter had brought. The guitars repeated the same riff over and over, he hated it.

Jimin stuck his tongue out where you placed a small square of magazine paper no bigger than a fingernail. Jimin’s eyelashes fluttered, his knees throbbing as he knelt in front of you, your thumb brushing against his lips before sealing them.

"Amen," he sighed.

The host that you offered to his mortal body was as tasteless as the first, but only Jimin knew the euphoria that, like a hurricane's wind, announced the sweet path that awaited the cowboy.

Jimin was not a man who smoked more than five cigarettes a day, seven if it was a bad day. But your siren song in his ear convinced him to drown his morals in your dark waters, your hands took both sides of his tanned face and you threw him without warning to your sanctuary, towards the steepest rocks, to your glorious eyes. And damn, Park could drink the water from your pupils and die of poisoning.

"I missed you so much, I didn't know it until the moment I saw you." His lips said before thinking about it, narrow pupils lying on the grass next to you. You just laughed, it was the only thing you did and he just admired it.

At one point around noon, Jimin took the steering wheel of the Packard. Hunter, Sage, and Kitty were talking about a record, making strange sounds and asking the opinion of Jimin who was driving down the dusty road, making the engine roar so that you would scream next to him.

"Slow down!" You asked. He went faster, he didn't care.

The purring of the car made Jimin's body pulse, his mouth was dry, his arm no longer hurt, and his lips prayed the license plate of the car, over and over again.

I'm going to find it, he told himself. And when I find him I'm going to make them suffer, as the tips of the horse's bones pierced its dark fur, neighing over his own stupid words trying to calm the wounded animal.

Faster, find it.

Like oil, the green branches of summer became watery and greasy in his vision, and the dust was stalactites that bathed the car in yellow.

"Good luck, cowboy." Kitty approached Jimin, somehow he had made it to the rodeo. The horns announced his name on all four corners and people shouted his last name like the idol he was.

Sage and Kitty kissed his cheeks before he climbed on top of Arrow, the weight of his body creating echoes every time he moved.

There was no one in that audience who saw Jimin on his horse who was not surprised by the agility with which the rope rose above his head and created fluid circles to catch the rough calf that writhed with the knot in its thick neck.

Jungkook saw from a distance how the cowboy's smile was so bright, how he rejoiced at the applause and the roses that were thrown at him. His movements were vehement, fiery, and impulsive like a devil without fear of death.

The hat Jungkook had given him had a small, withered pink carnation on it. He stood up as quickly as he could at the end of the show, but before he could talk to him he only saw Arrow galloping thunderously in the distance, one girl was wearing the gifted hat, she grabbed Jimin's waist and with the other, she gave whiskey to the cowboy. The copper thread falls to his chest and settles on his strap.

"The sight of him today was incredible, I had never seen 'im like that." Billie smiled behind Jungkook, her cheeks red, eyes covered with a fine lust that she probably didn't even recognize.

The firmament rose high above his eyes, there was no star that Jimin didn't feel the overwhelming sound of fire burning in his ears. His body was sweating on the grass, and the smell of nicotine was strong after smoking two cigarettes to settle his reverberating body. The high had passed and his body was a used towel.

He doesn't remember much of what happened, but the remnants of the hallucinogen's burn made him understand that he had the damn time of his life. A laugh left his lips, embarrassed by how easy it was to convince him to do that stupid thing. What Jungkook told him was true: you haven't changed at all, cowboy.

"How's my favorite rodeo king?" The angel landed above his head, you were wearing his hat and a flowered dress.

"Roughened up, I guess." Just like after a good fuck.

"Don't get hooked or you'll end up like Hunter." You combed your hair as you walked around him. "He can't last a day without it or else he starts hitting Kitty."

"Why don't you report it?" Jimin stood following your steps. After looking around him for a few seconds, he realized that he was in the rodeo arena, darkness bathed the stadium. The blue moon showed your silhouette walking over the horseshoe tracks.

"Because Kitty doesn't want to, they are going to get married in a few months. He promised to stop doing drugs when they did. It wouldn't be good for a kid."

There was a lightness in the promises the Californians made to others, they nodded seriously, but you could see the consequences in their evasive gaze.

Jimin nodded.

"Are you always so quiet?"

He nodded again, and they both laughed.

"'M better when I'm not ten feet deep in an LSD hangover, I can assure that."

"Yes, but..." Your silhouette approached his body, and you carried the energy of ten bulls on you. Your immortal look, you haven't changed anything. "I asked if you're always this quiet."

Jimin inhaled as he understood your question.

"When I'm in the stadium I'm more vocal." He again evaded the answer you were looking for so much. His chest beat boldly like the time he saw you covered in strawberries and sugar.

"You were a star this afternoon, your eyes were shining."

"Always."

You raised your eyebrow and scoffed. "Sure thing, sir."

Blood surged to Park's neck, his eyelids drooping, his pride tainting his flirtation. Enough of the games.

"Run." He murmured, saliva pooling in his throat.

You frowned with your typical smile.

"What?"

"I asked you to run." His body suddenly lunged and you became alarmed, raising your hands. "As fast and as far from this stadium as you can."

His pupils didn't move, his soft smile was confident. Your skin grew cold with each step, at first slow and suspicious, the darkness of the large arena was intimidating because it felt like you were not moving forward.

You heard how an object created hollow, sharp sounds in the air. It was his lasso.

"No." You muttered, running even faster.

And swoosh, you fell to the ground. The rope squeezed your neck, leaving your body in mid-air, your tongue came out and your eyes bulged from the sudden lack of air; the hat fell away from you. Your body was no longer yours, your stupid fingers tried to loosen the knot, but it was too late.

The boots approached, collecting the rope that was left over around his arm. The silhouette became part of your blurred vision.

"Stand up."

"I. Can't." Your lips emulated as you writhed like a worm in the dust.

"Lemme' help ya'." Jimin snatched the rope for you to stand up, your knees moved up to him where his fingers loosened the knot a little. "Breathe, little girl. We don't want an accident."

Saliva came out of your mouth in streams and fell to the floor. Jimin grabbed your chin and wiped it.

"Don't make a mess now."

"I'm sorry, sir." And now you sounded as helpless and stupid as Hunter did this morning. It was adorable.

You were afraid to look up, your eyes trained on the hat a few meters away from both of you.

"Tell me, pumpkin. How can two ugly sons of bitches like your parents have such a beautiful girl?" He laughed, dragging the rope to where his hat was, you walked behind him with careless steps. With a couple of blows, he blew the dust off his hat and looked at you again, searching for an answer you didn't even know how to articulate or if you should.

His hand wrapped the rope around his fingers until he had you as close as possible, the smell of tobacco hammered your temples, and your eyelids wrinkled to try to wake up.

Great was the surprise when you felt a pair of dry lips resting on yours, his tongue daringly passed over your lips so that you would open, his moans softening your fear.

His saliva was bitter and lovely, his tongue running flat across the outside of your mouth until it reached your chin and the tip of your nose.

"Let's see, open your mouth, sugar. Don't be shy."

You obeyed as the knot tightened around your neck, moaning as his lips sucked on the tip of your tongue and bit your bottom lip.

"God have mercy." He sighed, squeezing your chin with his hand. "How can you taste so damn sweet."

You moaned as you felt his teeth nibble gently at your neck, his fingers piling the fabric of your dress around his fingers.

“Mm,” you squealed, walking away even when it didn’t suit you. "Can't."

"It's a good thing I didn't ask." Jimin brought you closer, caressing your neck again.

"I'm on my days." Shame sealing your thoughts, in your eyes the hope that just the thought of seeing the blood would disgust him.

Jimin raised his eyebrows and slowly kissed you again, this time with the softness of an apology.

"A cowboy doesn't mind a little dirt." He murmured, touching the soaked towel that covered your underwear, two fingers pushed aside and the burning of your pussy collided with his cold fingers drawing a moan from your hurt throat.

"A good cowboy loves to get dirty." He smiled, removing the two soaked fingers from the red viscosity to put it in his mouth with a frown on his eyebrows. "Mm." He grunted, swallowing slowly.

You were speechless, stupefied. Who was this demon?

"Have you ever ridden a bull before?" His blood-tainted lips said, the idea shocking your senses.

You denied it, and God knows that was the stupidest answer you could give.

The animal began to make a mechanical noise beneath both of them, the leather surface pressed your thighs against the mechanical bull that began to move slowly.

Jimin's bestial eyes did not take off from you, the last of the bottle of whiskey went down his throat in long gulps and pushed the glass into the distance causing a roar.

Your legs were above his defined thighs, the bleeding wound between your legs dirtying his jeans but the cowboy didn't seem to mind. The dress already forgotten outside the stadium playing area.

"We'll go slowly because it's your first time on top." His consideration was so minimal, considering the situation. But you were a woman whose details annihilated your logic.

To the front and sides and then a gentle turn, this is how the animal began. Jimin moved his center with the animal, the bulge in his pants rubbing against your pussy.

One of his hands approached the dripping hole and with four fingers collected the blood until it painted his hand.

“Ah,” he requested, sticking his tongue out and you followed suit. His fingers got smeared on his tongue and cheeks until they reached his neck. With his tongue he passed over his lips, like wine he drank you, like sweet he possessed you and rejoiced.

His tongue entered your space again, the strange and bitter taste of your own blood while with his fingers he removed the zipper of his jeans until he showed that he was not wearing underwear underneath him, his tall and throbbing cock moved under his fist.

"Climb on, doll. You're wet enough for me." He laughed taking your body to sit on top of him. You hugged him as tight as you could as the mechanical animal began to move faster.

"We're going to fall." You whimpered. "Hurts".

"Shh, shh. Let me medicate you, it'll stop hurtin' when I dick you properly." One spank and his fingers squeezed the skin of your ass tightly. "You just have to move with me."

To the front, to the sides, two turns. You just had to keep your legs elevated a little, Jimin's cock sliding smoothly in and out with each movement.

"Now you're getting it. Fuck." Jimin hissed, squeezing your waist with his forearm. "You're quite the cowgirl, Love."

You moaned, pressing your forehead to his. His eyes absorbed every curve, from your breasts to your red-painted thighs. You were an angel, a myth that devours men. Your songs of pleasure echoing on the aluzinc walls.

The animal began to attack, abrupt and deeper.

"Does it hurt?" You asked between moans, watching the fabrics covering Jimin's arm begin to dye again. Jimin denied, cuntdrunk.

You removed the knot of cloth from the wound on Jimin's arm, running your thin fingers over the bleeding muscle. Park hissed, and the walls of your pussy tightened.

More, you wanted more.

Your lips sucked on the sores until you felt the metallic taste in your throat, Jimin pressed your body against yours. One turn, two forwards, three up. Your poor body trembled with the desire for the game to end but your pussy still wanted your walls to expand until Jimin's cock was molded inside you forever.

"If I knew you were such a slut." Park grabbed your hair to pull you away from his arm.

"If I knew cowboys fucked so well." The bloody smile of both of you was devilishly erotic.

The bull stopped suddenly, you looked at the man standing on the other side of you, rifle in hand, hot tears burning his cheeks.

"Jungkook? Jeon!" It was the last thing you heard before you fell face first onto the inflated floor, blood flowing warm and your eyelids falling softly.

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sunsetsandsunshine · 6 months ago

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HAIAIAIII !!!

I wanna request a tk fic 😇🫶🏻🫶🏻 so uhmm what about a Ler!Jeanette Ler!Brittany and Lee!Eleanor?? from alvin and the chimpmunks !!

~ 𝚂𝚠𝚒𝚏𝚝𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚟𝚜. 𝙰𝚟𝚊𝚌𝚘𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜 ~

🩷💜🩵 𝙵𝚒𝚌 𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢: @giggly-cloud 🩷💜🩵

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙰𝙷𝙷𝙷𝙷𝙷 𝙷𝙸𝙷𝙸𝙷𝙸𝙷𝙸 𝙲𝙻𝙾𝚄𝙳𝙸𝙴!!!!! 𝙰𝚜 𝚊 𝚏𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚘𝚖 𝚠𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚊𝚜 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝙰𝙰𝚃𝙲— 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝙸 𝚜𝚊𝚢 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚂𝙴𝙰𝚁𝙲𝙷𝙴𝙳 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 😭💔! 𝙰𝚕𝚜𝚘…“𝚝𝚔?” 𝙸 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗 “𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚎” 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚑𝚎𝚢, 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝’𝚜 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚖𝚎 😇💝💗💕💓˚*• ̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*＊·̩̩̥͙

𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: 𝙵𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜: 𝟸,𝟸𝟹𝟺

𝙻𝚎𝚎: 𝙴𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚛 🐿️🩵

𝙻𝚎𝚛’𝚜: 𝙱𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚢 🐿️🩷 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙹𝚎𝚊𝚗𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚎 🐿️💜

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝙱𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙴𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚛 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚍𝚒𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚖𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚌 𝚝𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚜; 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚌𝚑 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚍𝚒𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚖𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚌 𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚜. 𝙳𝚘 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚒𝚗𝚏𝚘 𝚊𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕…

𝚆𝙴’𝚁𝙴 𝙰𝙻𝙻 𝙸𝙽 𝚃𝙷𝙸𝚂 𝚃𝙾𝙶𝙴𝙴𝙴𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚁: @shut-up-jo @itzsana-kiddingmenow

@aeinzzzketchup @veryblushyswitch @mysteriouslee

(𝙰/𝙽: 𝙳𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚋𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚐𝚞𝚢! 𝙸*𝚌𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙺𝚒𝚗𝚔/𝙽𝚂𝙵𝚆 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚜 𝙳𝙽𝙸!!!)

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝚃𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚌𝚞𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙰𝚟𝚘𝚌𝚊𝚍𝚘𝚜 𝚟𝚜 𝚂𝚠𝚒𝚏𝚝𝚒𝚎𝚜 (𝙸 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚍𝚛𝚊𝚖𝚊 ☝🏾🥸)! 𝙸𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚊 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚋𝚕𝚎𝚖 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝙸 𝚑𝚒𝚒𝚒𝚒𝚒𝚒𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚞𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚏𝚊𝚗𝚏𝚒𝚌 𝚝𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍 :𝟹)

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ 𝙴𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚘𝚘𝚢𝚢𝚢𝚢𝚢𝚢𝚢 ˚*•✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

“You…do know Billie is better than Taylor, right?” Eleanor said, grinning smugly at her eldest sister on the couch.

The eldest sister in question huffed out a bitter laugh, meeting the smallest chipmunk’s wicked smile with a sharp glare, “Ihi beheg your pardon, Ellie?”

Although, the tallest of the three just sighed sadly as her sisters continued to bicker (for, like, the millionth time), sinking into the couch seat slightly as she observed WWIII being displayed right in front of her.

Before all of this…drama, the three preteen sisters figured it would be best to spend as much time with each other as possible and take advantage of the Summer break.

Since school would hit as soon as Autumn started to roll around, they would have to go on tour, and go to school and a whole bunch of mega important stuff that would keep their hands full 24/7…

So, sitting on the couch and watching TV together peacefully was something they initally planned to do.

And it was peaceful! Veeery peaceful in fact.

That was until Eleanor randomly started boasting about how the movie they were watching would be 100x better if 'Hit Me Hard and Soft' was the soundtrack.

But the thing was, they were currently watching Back to the Future. Which, if you didn’t know, aired in 1985. So it wouldn’t really make all that much sense if one of Billie Eillish’s album’s was the soundtrack…but Jeanette wasn’t one to question (that much anyway).

The harmless comment caused the tiiiiinest ounce of outrage from Brittany as she went on and ON listing all the album’s Taylor had whilst mocking about the fact that Billie only has three as of right now.

Petty sibling arguments at its finest…

“Guys, can we please just watch the movie…?” Jeanette meekly offered as her two sisters glared absolute daggers at each other, “I think it’s getting to the really good part…!”

“You said that exact same sentence fifteen minutes ago, Jennie.” The pink cladded chipmunk deadpanned, “Besides, avenging Taylor is wahaaaay more important than any weird time travel space movie.”

“It’s called Back to the Future…” The tallest chipmunk muttered as she adjusted her purple glasses.

“Whatever.” The blue eyed teen huffed, “Anyway, Ellie…I think you owe Taylor an apology.”

“AN APOLOGY?!” Eleanor squawked in awe, “The only person who should be apologizing is Taylor herself! There are waaaaaaay too many people on this Earth that deserve a Nobel Prize in Physics but yet she got one by just existing!”

The purple eyed teen winced at the comment, sinking into the couch deeper as she saw her older sister get gradually more angry.

“Wehell, I guess you haven’t read her research as the lead scientist of the Large Hadron Collider at CERN.” The elder glared.

“No, no I haven’t.” The youngest said snarkingly as she crossed her arms, “I have better things to do with my time. Besides, she gives us blonde’s a bad name and I am not here for it.”

“Heeeeere we go…” The brunette mumbled knowingly as she went on her phone.

Brittany’s left eye twitched as she stood up on the sofa, putting a hand on her hip, “Well, at least she can keep a consistent hair color! Your emo music artist changed her hair color to every shade on the rainbow!”

“And?” Eleanor pressed on, “At least Billie looks good in every single one! Taylor being a brunette was just not it and you know it.”

“YOU LITTLE—!” Brittany sucked in a breath, exhaling slowly as her icy blue eyes met sassy emerald green. “I know you did nohot just—”

“I just did.” The younger cut off as she stuck her tongue out teasingly, “What are you gonna do about it?”

“…Why don’t I show you?” The eldest chipmunk grinned, basically pouncing on her youngest sister as the two wrestled to get the upper hand.

And out of context? It honestly looked like a WWE match.

“GEHET OFF OF ME!” The mint cladded chipmunk screeched.

“Not uhuntil you admit Taylor is better.” The blue eyed teen smiled sweetly.

And to a random stranger, that quote on quote 'sweet smile' probably looked 100% genuine. But to Jeanette and Eleanor…?

…That smile had a whoooooole different meaning…

“N-NEVER!” The blonde exclaimed as she pushed her hands on the other’s chest.

“Fine then. Have it your way.” The strawberry blonde giggled as she tickled the youngest’s sides casually and effortlessly. The green eyed chipmunk let out a loud but short scream as she descended into small giggles, hugging herself as she squirmed left and right.

“B-BriHIHIT! STAhap IHIT!!!” The youngest squealed.

“Ihi’m barely even tickling you, Ellie. Don’t tell me it’s that bad~!” Brittany snickered as she changed her scribbling to squeezing her sister’s sides mercilessly. “STAHA— squeak YOHOUR MEEHEAN!!”

The oldest of the three chipmunks dramatically gasped, moving her fingers to knead at Eleanor’s underarms, “Me? Mean? Ohhhhh no no no no no no no. I’m not being mean…you’re just super ticklish.”

The younger blushed slightly, clamping her arms down almost immediately whilst kicking her legs on the couch, “H-HUHUSH UP! SOHO AHARE YAHA— hic YOHOU!”

The strawberry blonde chuckled fondly at her sibling’s weak rebuttal, sneaking one of her hands out of the other’s underarms to try and tickle her neck but was stopped as Eleanor grabbed her wrist.

“I know I am but what are you~?” Brittany scoffed lightly as she stopped her tickling altogether, crossing her arms as she raised a very amused brow.

The two sister’s made eye contact— one completely amused by the very silly turn of events as the other was waiting for her grave to be buried. “Come on and share…since you wanna be all sassy today: share with the class. What are you, little sister~?”

At that tease, the green eyed chipmunk’s sassiness most definitely just went down the drain and into the ocean for sure.

The youngest let out a small, giggly whine, looking at her immediate older sister at the end of the couch in seek for help. But the only response she got was a mere shrug as she gave Eleanor an apologetic smile.

Eleanor covered her face in embarrassment, her tail softly swishing against the couch cushion as her giggles became more giddy and desperate, “I-Ihim tihicklish…” She muttered out.

“Sorry…didn’t hear that.” The pink cladded preteen mused.

“I-I-Ihihi’m tihihicklish!!” The youngest tried again.

“Whaaaaaat?”

“I-Ihi sahahaid Ihi’m t-tihihicklish!!”

“Sorry…one more time~? I really can’t hear you—“

“IHI’M TAHA— squeak IHI’M TIHIHICKLISH!!!” The blonde basically screamed.

“Pfft— yeah, I know.” The eldest snickered as she kneaded the other’s hips.

Eleanor let out a large and loud squeal as she weakly hit the other’s arms and hands, bucking and twisting around to at least make Brittany’s grip on her hips loosen a bit.

But the blue eyed chipmunk just snickered evilly at the action, casually tickling her where the thigh met the hip, leaving the youngest of the three in absolute stitches.

Jeanette looked away from her phone and directed her attention to her two sister’s silly situation, smiling happily. Well…at least they were bonding instead of tugging at each other’s throats.

The purple eyed chipmunk looked towards the hallway, rolling her eyes fondly as she saw a red blur basically sprinting into the living room.

“Hey guys!” Alvin said quickly, basically jumping up and down where he stood, “Me, Si and Theo are gonna go skateboarding outside and we were wondering if you guys would wanna— uhhhhhh...wow.”

As the hazel eyed chipmunk became more aware to what was going on in front of him, a small flustered blush appeared on his face as he tried to not look at the pink and mint duo— who didn’t even seem to notice he walked in (which was very rude by the way…)

The purple cladded chipmunk raised a brow at her little brother’s facial expression, “Alv, you need something? You said you wanted us to—”

“Nope. Nah. Nada. I don’t need aaaaaanything…” Alvin mumbled out quickly and quietly, averting his gaze from the scene displaying in front of him to not worsen the tingly butterfly feeling in his stomach.

“AHALVIN! DOHON’T JUHU— hic JUHU— squeak JUHUST STAHAND THEHEHERE!! HEHELP MEEHEEHEE!” The blonde cried.

“Ehellie…my dear bahahaby sihister whom Ihi adore dearly. I would absoltuely lohove to hehelp yohou with your current…predicament but, uhm…I hahave places to go ahand plahaces to be. Sooooo aaaaanyways gOODLUCKBYELOVEYOUUUU!!!” And with that, the red cladded chipmunk Usain Bolted out of the living room.

“AHAHALVIN YAHA— squeak COHOME BAHACK hic HEHERE YOHOU TRAITOR!!!” Eleanor squealed, letting out small hiccups and squeaks that bounced off the living room’s walls.

Brittany shared a knowing glance at Jeanette, causing the tallest of the three to nod quietly, sitting next to her little sister as she thrashed around. “Seems like that spot is really bad…” The glasses wielding chipmunk mused.

“IHIT IHIHIS! YOHOU squeak KNOHOW MY hic HIHIHIPS ARE A BAHAD SPAHA— squeak!!!”

“That’s not the only thing that’s bad~!” The purple eyed chipmunk said as she traced Eleanor’s sides lightly, “With all your thrashing and squirming, I noticed you have one missing rib…”

“NAHAHA— hic NOHO IHI DAHA— squeak DOHOHON’T!!!”

The tallest giggled of the three giggled, “Ihi just want to check to make sure—”

“NOHOHOHOH!”

“Just a quick check—”

“N-NOHOHAHA! AHA STAHAP! STOHOP BEING MEAN!” The youngest screeched as she descended into a fit of loud laughter.

“You’re mean for not letting me tickle your neck.” Brittany mused as she used one hand to scribble the crook of her baby sister’s neck while her other hand continued to squeeze at her hip, “That’s better~!” The eldest sing-songed.

The mint cladded chipmunk scrunched up her shoulder in a weak attempt to at least cease some of the tickles, but to her dismay…it just made it way worse. The youngest dropped her hands to her sides, her legs weakly kicking underneath Brittany as her tail wagged, “IHIHIT TIHICKLES!! BEEHEE NIHIHICE!!!”

“I was gonna be nice~!” The eldest sang, “But since you didn't let me get your neck…I'll just tickle your tummy then.” The blue eyed preteen grinned, wiggling her finger’s near the blonde’s stomach teasingly.

The younger’s eyes widened in panic at the tease/light threat, grabbing her older sister’s wrists in an attempt to stop her, “N-NAHA hic squeak NOHO! IHIHI HAHATE hic hic IHAT THAHA— squeak THEHEHERE!!!”

“But…I thought you liked it here?” Jeanette said genuinely as she stopped tickling her sister’s sides. The strawberry blonde rolled her eyes fondly for her immediate younger sister’s…compassion for all mankind.

It was sickening, honestly…

“She does like getting tickled there, Jean. It’s one of her favorite spots…you know this.” Brittany said as she shook her head.

“But she just said she didn’t!” The purple cladded chipmunk exclaimed.

The blondie groaned at her two sister’s conversation…

God, would they just tickle her already?! She was dying in anticipation here!!!

Her two sister’s then looked at her— Brittany glanced at Jeanette as if to say 'I told you so'.

And that’s when the youngest realized she said alllllllll of that out loud…

Eleanor buried her face into her arms, her face heating up as the dreaded ghost tickles got worse and worse.

“…So you do like it! You just didn’t want to admit it.” The purple eyed chipmunk clarified as she put one on one together, “And earlier…you were taunting and bickering with Britt so she and I would tickle you, right?”

The younger’s face just went as red as a tomato, causing her older sister’s to fall into a giggle fit with her. “That makes so much more sense now.” The tallest grinned, tickling her little sister’s stomach and sides. The youngest of the three covered her mouth, shaking her head.

Oh this was gonna tickle so bad…

“I think you can laugh louder than that~!” Jeanette hummed, blowing a raspberry in the crook of Eleanor’s neck while dancing her fingers all over her stomach.

The eldest huffed out a laugh in triumph, cracking her knuckles teasingly as she kneaded the younger’s hips whilst blowing a raspberry on the other side of her neck. The blonde screamed with laughter, happy tears building up in her eyes.

“There we go~! Much better. Don’t you agree, Jennie?” The strawberry blonde snickered.

“Oho I definitely agree.” The brunette said as she nodded in agreement, “Ahhh tickle tickle tickle~!You’re so tickle tickle ticklish, little sis~!”

“BRIHIHIT!! JEHEHE— hic JEHE— squeak!!! GUHUYS PLAHAHEEEEEASE!!!” Eleanor cried. The two sister’s sighed lovingly, stopping their ticklish torment on the youngest as they sat back on the couch.

The purple cladded chipmunk wrapped her little sister in a soft but protective hug, planting a kiss on her temple, “Are you alright? Me and Britt didn’t go too far, right…?”

“N-Noho I’m hic goohoohood. Yohou two ahare hic mean, thohough…” The youngest said through her giggle fit, resting the back of her head on Jeanette’s chest, “Wahait…dihid the mohovie ehend already…?”

“Yes it did!” Brittany chuckled, getting up to grab the remote which was on the couch rest, “Whihich is why we are going to be watching Taylor Swift Reputation Stadium Tour!” The eldest squealed, flipping through the channels to go to Netflix.

Jeanette and Eleanor shared a knowing glance with one another, rolling their eyes as the concert began to play.

Oh well…Eleanor would just have to get her revenge afterwards.

'Expect the unexpected' is what her brother Alvin would say, anyway.

And besides! After they’re done watching…maybe she’ll come to like Taylor’s music.

…Maybe.

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙵𝙸𝙽˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

(𝙿.𝚂.: 𝙸𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚌, 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐!!!)

#GRUAGGHHHH #Alvin and the Chipmunks tickle #Alvin and the Chipmunks tickle fic #AATC tickle #AATC tickle fic #Lee!Eleanor #Ler!Brittany #Ler!Jeanette #YES YEES YES IM AWARE ELEANOR’S COLOR IS GREEN #But guys I’m sorry it always pissed me off how we had red - pink #Blue - purple #Then green on green liKE BROTHA EUGHHH 😵🤚🏾#No thanks ☺️— teal/aquamarine/mint Ellie all the WAYYYYYY 🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵#I lowkey feel like Jeanette listens to My Chemical Romance hehehehsj #MY HEADCANONS ARE ALL OVER THAT PLACE I SWEARRR‼️‼️‼️#Binging the live action AATC movies with my sis as I post this #Alvin is the legit ADHD creature idgaf #BUT HE IS SO LEE CORE OHHHH MY GOSH I LOVE HIM 🤧💗💞💕#MY SONNNNN #What are y’all tho? Team Taylor or Team Billie?????#I’m team Billie 🤩🖤💚 SHE EAAAAATS #Also she fine as hell #Hope you like this Cloudie it’s been such an honor getting to know you!!!!!#Also it’s been fun teasing you ofc ur adorbs 💖💕💗💞💝#Usain Bolts outta here 🏃🏾‍♀️#🇯🇲🇯🇲🇯🇲#Being hyperfixated on these lil guys again wasNOT on my 2024 bingo card…#But I’m not complaining 🤧🤚🏾#ALSO AATC TICKLE FANDOM I KNOW YOU EXIST #YOU WILL N O T HIDE FROM ME

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