#but i just—don’t see any of the spark in him that’s in j and s

[padfootastic]

First, you can’t just mention that Harry/Tonks fic and not drop it. Now I wanna read it too. Second, it’s very interesting to consider how prone R is to just running and being conflict avoidant when we also know he’s literally fighting in a war and he fought in the war last time too.

hehehehe it’s right here! i just reread it again and there’s a nice little acknowledgment in there about how harry never took to remus as quick as sirius bc he never reached out. it’s perfect.

and yes! i find it super interesting too, and not all that contradictory either tbh. like, there’s two sides to him, yeah? one in the interpersonal sense and one in a more macro, ideological level. it’s entirely possible that he’s a different person for both sides bc often, confronting ur own self is harder than fighting for an abstract cause like justice etc. it’s easier to be brave when it’s not you in the picture, yanno?

and then there’s what i sometimes like to believe, which is that remus didn’t fight the way sirius & james did (for morals/ethics/right thing to do) but rather that 1. everyone around him was fighting, 2. he was indebted to dumbledore, and especially in the second war, 3. his sense of self worth was almost completely depleted and everyone he loved was dead and he didn’t quite care whether he lived or not, no matter the consequences of it for his family.

[tadc-harlequin-au]

Touch-Starved (canon)

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otherwise known as; the part where The Puppetmaster finds out he has THE FEELINGS(™, patent pending) for the Combat Harlequin. lmfao

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"Almost..." His hand trembled at the last piece required. He carefully slotted the optics in place, and twisted the eye multiple times to stick it in place. Within moments, he steps back, and Bubble flared up alive again, checking out his new, updated vision. “Wow! I can see more colors now!” The Blimp spun in place.

“Those new eyes should allow you to broadcast anything you see to me, if I so wished.” He explains, pulling out a small, thin black screen from one of the the desk’s many compartment. He switches it on, and Bubble’s eyes suddenly have a tiny red dot blinking in the middle of it.

So far, so good. The device was working as intended and he could see the top of his dentures from Bubble’s perspective, making Caine grin proudly.

“You may proceed to do your chores once more, the upgrades are done.” He sends the blimp to his merry way, and Bubble only nods before turning away to make his way out of the office. He leans back with a content sigh and closed eyes, satisfied with the work done for the day.

At that very moment, Pomni also opens the door.

She looked… disheveled, to say the least.

“Oh hey Pomni!” The butler blimp greeted with his usual reply. The Harlequin only sent him a look of acknowledgement, knowing that it’s useless to try to spark up a conversation, as Bubble was already making his way out.

Caine blinked once, and then he blinked twice just to make sure he’s seeing things right.

Was she always this… dazzling? Literally? He could see sparkles forming everywhere.

She flipped her hair in a messy attempt to get rid of the strands currently stuck to the skin of her nape. Her trademark golden ponytail missing, most likely a B.O.S.S.’s doing. She made her way to Caine’s desk and he swears he could feel his heart beat faster and faster with each step she took. The Harlequin’s trademark squinted brows with half-lidded eyes meeting his own wide stare, a gaze that would typically make any person with a still-functioning sanity cower in fear.

She took a seat on his desk with her legs crossed and her back turned against him and leaning on her right arm, as she usually did.

“Here’s the die you asked for. Took me a bit, but still got the job done.” She checked her left arm for damages after she placed the multi-colored puppet heart in front of him, while she flashed her teeth with a victorious, smug smile. His words are caught in his throat and her entirety shines too brightly for him. He couldn’t understand it.

Why… did she seem like a flame, and he felt like an unsuspecting moth, drawn to her light?

He shook his head clear and forced his stare away from her direction, clearing his throat while clutching the die. “I-I see, thank you, Pomni. You-you’ve done… a… wonderful…” Her hand grasped his own and his heart leapt at his own throat. Her synthetic, calloused fingers felt so rough, yet so gentle against his own gloved ones that he considered taking them off.

“...j-job.” His breath hitched as he struggled to finish the end of his sentence, unable to tear his attention away from her eyes. He found himself gawking at her intense, golden eye matched with blue and red pinwheel ones.

“Aren't you forgetting something, Puppetmaster?” Her expression questioning, yet with a slight and subtle undertone of mischief glinted at her optics. 

He couldn’t speak. He struggled to form coherent words. It felt like he was being strangled by an unknown force clutching at his neck, yet there was clearly no malice behind it. 

“Wh… What am I forgetting…?” He asked in such a feeble tone that made her chuckle in such a low rumbling tone, snaring his full attention.

“Well, I think that I deserve a reward for my services. Don’t you think?” She stands up. Warm hands suddenly felt so cold and empty, and already he missed the warmth present just about a second ago. The Harlequin made her way towards him as he spun his chair to meet her halfway. Hand at her hips as she towered over his sitting form. He’s all of a sudden clutching at the armrest so intensely.

“Y-yes, of course! H-how could I forget!” He nervously chuckles, he would pull on his collar right about now. “What is it you wish to be rewarded with?”

He offers her his best smile, and she giggles as she shakes her head. Without any warning, she took a seat on his lap, and he went frozen. As if making one single move would shatter the very fabric of the universe. She leaned her head to his shoulder, fiddling with the collar of his shirt then her fingers trailed onto the underside of his chin to make him look at her. He shivered from the contact.

“You.”

He trembled as his face warmed up to uncontrollable degrees, and produced visible heat waves. Not even his self-installed coolants were helping him tone down the sudden rise in his body temperature in the slightest. He couldn’t control his shakes, making the Harlequin smirk, knowing that she had the Puppetmaster all wrapped around her finger.

He didn’t know what came over him, because now his own hands were making their way onto her thighs to pull her closer to him entirely, the other shakingly placing itself onto her shoulders and he could feel the way she sighs contentedly against his touch. He exhales a shaky breath himself, attempting to steel himself.

“M-my dear, a-are you positive that… that is what you’d like?”

It was better to be safe than sorry. She sits up straight, and for the first time, he regrets ever asking that question in the first place.

“Actually…” Her voice trails off playfully, while she stands up. “... Maybe I’d like something more.”

It only took her a finger underneath his chin to pull him as she leads him to a nearby wall. As if his own body had a mind of it’s own, he pins her in place with both arms adjacent to her head. His face leans in closer and closer to her with eyes closed, and she’s leaning up close to him, fully ready to accept his advances.

Pomni’s soft lips met his teeth, and Caine could smell the faint traces of grass and sweat rolling down from her synthetic skin, evident of her hardships from the recent battle. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and his loops around her waist to pull her closer, while the other cups at her face intensely. He savored her mouth as their breathing became heavy and fast-paced, only breaking apart for a mere second, gasping for air before delving back in to their desires.

Desire…

Quite the accurate depiction of how Caine truly felt for the Harlequin at this moment. He couldn’t quite decipher when this had started, though.

As if her intentions were to pry him away from his overbearing and unnecessary thoughts, Pomni pushed him away to pin him to the wall this time, continuing the liplock. He grunts from the impact, but gladly returns her enthusiasm with fervor as he loops his arm around her back, pulling her flush to him once more. Her hands made their way to the lower sides of his jaw to caress so gently, and he finds himself melting at every contact their touches made.

Without breaking the teeth-on-lip-lock, he steered their bodies onto the direction of his desk, leaving the Harlequin laying on it as he loomed over her, ravaging her mouth once more like the touch-starved man he was. He adjusted her thighs just enough to make room for him without making the position uncomfortable for the both of them, their heated make out session felt like it could go on forever as he gripped her waist tightly.

It felt like if he let her go, she would disappear all of a sudden. And he didn’t want that.

He made sure to not lean too much of his body weight onto her by propping himself up with his elbows, both hands find themselves cupping her face to keep her in place as her hands trailed all the way up from the lower arms to his shoulders to do the same to him. He broke the kiss to gasp for air, a string of saliva being the clear proof of their heated action, but quickly delved back into the riveting sensations of their activity. 

Her touch against him were like magic; every contact sent shivers and jolts down his spine as she switched from holding his shoulders to holding his chest just above where a collarbone would traditionally be, pushing him away to let herself up. For a nanosecond he thought that maybe he went a little too far with his advances, until she disproved his theory by shoving him to one of the nearby long couches, only a pillow to cushion and soften his landing onto the furniture.

Quickly making up for lost time and contact, she quickly crawls to straddle his waist, clutching the back of his head to make him look at her, and her only. His hand found itself gripping at the back of her waist tightly once more, the other clutching her own head just to make sure she’s still there with him. Both were panting heavily, the room temperature very much heated as a result of their affairs.

His eyes looked at her longingly as he breathed heavily. “Pomni… I… I don’t think I want this to end.”

She flashed him a consoling smile.

The alarm rings, deafening the surroundings as he jolts awake, falling from his chair comically with a loud, slightly high-pitched scream emitting from his throat. He groans from the headache he had received from the impact to the ground, clutching at the top sides of his jaw, as he leans his head onto the desk for support.

His false heart was beating faster than when one would run; His face was flushed and he frustratingly ignores the heat from the rest of his body with a grumble.

He shifts his eyes to look around. Nothing’s changed. Everything was the same since Bubble left to do his daily chores.

He shakes his head and slams his face down onto the elegant desk, groaning depressingly and half-sobbing.

What the fuck? Was… WAS IT ALL JUST A DAMN DREAM!?

Oh, he could scream and cry into a pillow right about now. But the panicked angry screaming of a certain someone being bothered by the recent addition; the Ragdoll Mannequin that was “Ragatha”, suddenly grabs his attention. Now, he’s looking outside into the manor grounds from his office’s windows with a tired and questioning gaze.

“GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME!”

“But Mistress! You still haven’t tried out my trademark cookie recipe!! It’s GUARANTEED to be your instant favorite!”

“STOP CALLING ME MISTRESS! FOR THE LAST TIME, I DON’T CARE, GET THE FUCK AWAY-”

Caine sighed disappointingly to himself, dragging his hand across his eyes.

God fucking dammit. He actually feels something for her.

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I would say I'm sorry, but we all know I'm not. :)

[lukolabrainrot]

Part 2. Explanation

In one of the interviews (don’t remember exactly, Vogue one perhaps) they are asked who is most likely to fall in love at first sight and they both point at L, and something similar is stated multiple times throughout the WT in various ways. Now N on the other hand always supports the friends to lovers being the best romantic trope and I think it’s not only because it is her character’s story arc. The way she is talking about a deep connection developing in the course of the friendship being the best way to go about it, implies that she is not someone who jumps into relationships easily. The way they are talking about their first meeting makes me think that it was indeed a love at first sight for L, and attraction at first sight for N. How he talks about this immediate feeling of warmth, the way he describes her dancing that first time, I think he was slowly on his way down. While her first reaction to him was “how tall he is?”(indirect quote), her facial expression makes me think it was not just his hight that captured her attention. Do you see the difference? For him it was a feeling, for her an appearance. And he is not a touchy fella, even with his BRT family cast as close and friendly as they are, usually it is not him who initiates contact, but not with N (who on the contrary is very touchy) even from the earlier moments of filming. “I don’t really do selfies but if you want one we’ll do that,” “l’m not really a hugger. Oh, you want a hug N, as many as you wish.”

Now as I said LOGICALLY, REALISTICALLY we cannot even truly speculate about events or conventions taken/ not taken, had/not had. For all we know they might have never even admitted to anything, to themselves or each other (doubtful but still). And their relationship are entirely platonic (that would make me question so many things about life but who knows). But from the audience point of view I would say biggest shift definitely happened during s3 filming. I want to make it clear that by no means do I wish to imply any kind of infidelity, quite the opposite I am one of those who believe that until WT their relationship never slipped into romance, beyond perhaps certain tension which I think is sipping into what we see on screens (cough* tongue slip *cough). By which point serious relationship were already over, though I truly think they started to unravel sooner, that it was not pretty, and that L was the driving force of it. Why? There was a little movement in adjacent’s SM life which sparked my memories, S posting “my world” giving of vibes of obvious overcompensation? Well during the filming drought of s3, when all Polin fans were feeding of crumbs, someone reposted J’s post of appreciation to L with those words and additional “don’t get to see him a lot this days” (or something of a kind). Undertone is kind of similar, no? And the way she completely wiped him out of her life? Does not really say parting ways amiably to me😬

Yet again we DO NOT KNOW why hbs happened, how 🐜 got in the picture or where their relationship ever stood. But I will only say this, in my eyes it was the public who gave her the label, and as a result importance, not L, not really. All of her little games only make me believe in this more. She was never given permission to imply anything serious from him, a hotel room, a T-shirt, a hand, easily plausible to not be related to him, but posting his face without his consent? Entirely different story. Now as to her traveling with him, again we don’t know the circumstances behind the scene, was she there as a part of a friends group, her and his sister seemed chummy perhaps in some moments it was on hers behalf, or as an easy travel companion, or perhaps they are insanely in love and we are just fools. We DON’T REALLY KNOW anything, we see only what they allow us to see.

And you know what I saw? L was 😍 from the start of WT, his body language pretty much consistent throughout the entire WT. N on the other hand while always affectionate wasn’t as open or obvious until the second half of WT, especially with her 😍, in some of the last interviews she literally has “check out from reality” moments from looking at him. I see their silence as being sooo loud, especially on L part. They themselves stated that denying or commenting is pretty much pointless when it comes to public’s opinion, N said reading certain things online she would have a moment of “this is hurtful, they don’t even know me. THEY DON’T EVEN KNOW ME!!!” WE DON’T EVEN KNOW THEM, and they know that we don’t even know them, and they are right people will always think what people wish to think. (I for one am glad that more and more famous people feel confident enough to stop bending backwards for fans satisfaction. Public’s entitlement to peoples’ privacy is truly outrageous.) And what I see is that the only people whose point of view in this situation should matter are the two people whom we wish happiness. N and L. Look at what they allow us to see and don’t give attention to background dancers that are trying to distract us with flashy costumes from their inability to be in rhythm. To me some watermarks they paint seem like a beginning of a beautiful painting, but we’ll see what comes of it only when they would wish us to. (Not even going to comment on N supposed adjacent, those who believe that side hug is an epitome of romance, and perceive some barely reliable SM based sleuthing as hard core evidence, to each its own)

Again, apologies for dumping this on you. Truly adorable your blog.

Thank you for the kind words Anon, and glad you are here! ❤️️

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Ruggie, Trey: More and More

TWST once again picks the most INCRIMINATING villain shots to display in the picture frames 😭 I am BEGGING the museum curator to do better/j

A Tale as Old as Time.

A lion cub, a warthog, and a meerkat.

It was an odd trio, a group of animals that, under normal circumstances, would never be together. Certainly not like this—not grinning, snuggling up with each other. Carnivore, herbivore, omnivore. Sharing the lives they had, joined in heart and in song.

No worries for the rest of their days.

Ruggie snickered behind one hand. Man, ain't that the dream?

"They've got nice smiles."

The hyena's ears perked. His eyes shifted to a Heartslabyul student gazing upon the same painting. Tall, built well, in glasses.

"Come again?"

"Their teeth," Trey clarified, pointing. "You see? They have different shapes based on their diet. Warthogs mainly eat vegetables, so they have strong, flat molars for crushing plants. But lions are carnivores, so their teeth are sharper for slicing through meat. And meerkats--"

"Okay, I get it already! Now quit it, you sound almost as creepy as Rook." Ruggie groaned. "Can't believe you take one look at this and your first thought is what's in their mouths."

"You don't?" The joke fell flat, and Trey let it go "How about you? What's your first thought when you look at this? If I'm remembering correctly, this painting is based on a story from your country. Does it have significance to you?"

"Eh, it’s some story about a warthog and a meerkat coming together to raise a lost cub they found."

"Really." Trey's eyebrows raised. "How did they manage to feed a baby lion? They probably need a lot of protein, and I don't think a warthog and a meerkat could hunt enough for it."

"Nah, they figured something out." He pinched his thumb and index finger together, peering through the small gap between them and right at the vice dorm leader. "Bugs."

"Bugs?!" Trey startled.

"Yup, there's plenty of 'm and they're packed full of protein for a growing young prince.”

“Prince?”

“Did I not mention it before? Turns out that the lion cub was a missing prince, and they had no idea. When the prince was all grown up, he returned to claim his kingdom with the warthog and the meerkat. The animals were able to get over their differences and live together in harmony. It all started with bugs—that’s pretty resourceful, isn’t it?”

"I didn’t think there would be a twist that wild from a story that started with eating bugs. We sometimes eat flowers in the Queendom, but usually as a garnish or for a snack, not for a whole meal. Is it a cultural difference...?"

Ruggie shrugged. "Sometimes you don't have much of a choice in what you eat. If life hands you lemons when you're starving, are you going to turn it down? 'Course not."

I can't afford that kind of luxury.

"Well, when you put it like that..." Trey gave a light laugh. "You're going to make me hungry too."

"I'd kill for a big roast pork right about now. Fat, sweet, and juicy, the meat so tender if falls off the bone once ya sink your teeth into it..." Ruggie drooled at the thought. "Yeah, if you just shoved an apple into the warthog's mouth, glaze it with honey, and slow cook it over a fire, I bet it'd be real tasty."

"It sounds like you’ve always got food on your mind.” Trey folded his arms, lips tugging back into a lopsided smirk. “Kinda gruesome when you talk about the prep work like that though.”

“We wouldn’t have any food if we didn’t hunt and gather. ‘S how the circle of life works.”

His gaze slanted toward the painting of the happy trio. A unification, food shared from the same platter—it sparked some desperate hope in him.

A world where kings and hyenas can be friends… Heh, maybe I’m asking for too much.

But he was greedy like that. Seeking more and more, his hunger never fully satisfied.

Ruggie shook his head, letting dirty blonde locks fall across his face. “Maybe it’s news to you, but beastmen don’t exactly see eye to eye with other beastmen. That’s why it’s practically a miracle that those three get along. It’s a tale they tell us in the Sunset Savanna to remind us of what we could be, united under one true kingdom. It’s just that: a story.”

“It’s a nice story,” Trey said simply. “And it would be even nicer if it came true.”

It would.

“It’ll be a looong time before that happens. It’s about as real as my dreams of a roast pork dinner.”

Ruggie sighed as he drew his arms up, hands resting behind his head. He reclined back in that lazy, devil-may-care pose.

Trey watched him, his mustard yellow eyes shifting slightly. “… Are you baiting me to offer to make you some?”

“What?” The hyena feigned shock. “Me, trying to get my hands on free grub? Nooooo, I’d never!”

Trey stared at him indignantly. “You’re not being very subtle there…”

Ruggie showed his teeth. “Was I supposed to be?”

“Maybe you’d have better luck getting a formal invite from Riddle first. I don’t usually prepare whole hams for a single guest either—it’s usually a group meal, so you’d have to share.”

“Tch. Whatever, can’t blame a hyena for testing out a shortcut, can you?”

“Ahahah… I’m slightly concerned that you’d even attempt to have an entire pig to yourself. Your appetite must be legendary.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

More and more—he wanted it all. Gluttony, a sin to the common man. To him, a desire for something greater than this.

He saw it now, a kingdom built upon the jagged cliffs. His kind and other scorned creatures. creeping out from the darkness and into the moonlight. They all looked to the one that stood far above them, the one that would lead them to that shining future.

Someday, it will come.

Ruggie spun, his back presented to the painting. A spotlight upon the trio, and the shadows closing in on his own face.

Even so, his smile was as big and as bright as ever.

“Nishishishishi! Don’t worry so much, Trey-kun~ Just be happy—hakuna matata!”

[promise-you-doie]

Coming Home | J. Jaehyun TEASER

After hitting a dead end in your job search, you reluctantly return home to stay with your mom. However, fate has other plans as you unexpectedly cross paths with an old flame. Sparks fly as you navigate the complexities of past feelings and present circumstances, reigniting a passionate connection that refuses to be ignored.

Jaehyun x reader (Exes to lovers)

Fluff, Angst, Suggestive.

As a little girl life seemed so easy, you expected that by the time you entered your 20’s you would have graduated and walked right into your new career. If little girl you could see adult you right now she’d run away from you screaming and crying. 

You had 300 dollars, a coupon for a free medium two-topping pizza from that pizza place you order from too often, and a (useless) tech degree to your name. No one wants to hire you, you’ve ruined your credit during your college years and you just decided to end your three-year relationship. 

With all the odds turned against you, there was only one thing you could do; go back to your hometown to stay with your mom just until you got back on your feet. 

Leaving Los Angeles was already gut-wrenching but landing in Connecticut ripped away any dignity you had left. The air smelled the same as when you left, and the people hadn’t changed a bit. 

You wanted to drop down to your knees and bawl when the realization set in that this was where you were going to be for the next few months of your life. However you still had at least an ounce of dignity left in you, so you grabbed your luggage and collected your emotions to walk towards the pickup section and wait for your mom. 

Blinking back tears, you inhaled a deep breath and pulled out your phone. Waiting patiently as your phone searched for service in the area. When the service finally sets in, your phone blows up with 70 different alerts. Two calls from your best friend, Yeri, and three text messages from her telling you to have a safe trip and to keep your head up. 

Six missed calls from your ex boyfriend, and seven text messages from him begging you to talk to him. 

 51 emails from the various job search sites that you signed up with, and one singular text message from your mom. 

Mom: Hey! I won’t be able to make it. But don’t worry, I’ll have Jaehyun come pick you up. Can’t wait to see you! 

As if on cue, a familiar black 2015 Toyota Corolla pulls up right in front of you, and none other than Jung Jaehyun gets out of the car. 

“This has to be a joke.” You breathe, your shoulders raising as you do so. 

He smirks the second he lays eyes on you, “Wow you haven’t aged a bit.” 

You wished you could say the same about him, he’d grown a lot more mature since you last saw him. He wasn’t the 18-year-old boy you were once head over heels for. He was way taller, he grew his hair out and you could tell that he started using the gym. 

“Why are you here?” you look up at him with folded arms. 

He doesn’t take you seriously, he never did. “Sorry I’m late.” he chuckles and takes your suitcase from beside you to load it in the back of his car. 

Once he finishes his first task, he walks back around to open the door for you. Gesturing to the passenger seat with both arms and a smile that you wished you could hate. 

“I’m not getting in the car, Jaehyun.” You remain in your spot, arms still folded over your chest. 

“No?” he asks condescendingly.

 You repeat, “No.” firm on your feet. 

“Well I guess, I’ll see you there then.” You watch him close the door and walk to the driver's side, all without sparing you a single look. He starts the car and drives away, leaving you with two options. 

You could chase after him and embarrass yourself, or you could remain stubborn and just call an Uber. 

You choose to chase the car after realizing that the phone that you would use to call an Uber was sitting in the back of his trunk.  

He watched you run after him from his rearview mirror, he slowed down but refused to stop until you were banging on the side of the window begging him to stop. He got a thrill out of this, and you could tell. 

“Did you change your mind?” He teases.

Physically Jaehyun was a completely different person, he grew up well you’ll admit that. But personality-wise? He hadn’t changed at all. He was still the same sarcastic asshole you met in high school. 

You mutter “I don’t have my phone.” as you slide into the passenger seat. You subtly look around, taking notice that the car still smelled the same way you remembered it was just cleaner now. Sooner or later your eyes dart to the back seat, and Jaehyun chuckles when you do. 

“So what’s L. A like?” He asks suddenly, one hand on the steering wheel and the other draped over his thigh. 

“It’s fun and different. My boyfriend helped to introduce me to a lot of new things.” You purposely mention your (ex) boyfriend just to see his reaction. 

To your dismay, his reaction is as simple as none. He only asks “How’s long-distance gonna work out for you? It didn’t seem to work with us.” 

“We’ll do fine.” 

The car falls quiet for a few moments before he starts up a new conversation. 

“I’m glad you're back.” The statement seemed taunting even if you knew that’s not how he meant it. You always dreamed of moving away to a big city where no one knew who you were, and now that you're back home it just felt like you were a failure. 

“I’m not staying for long.” you gaze out of the window. 

“Since you’re back in town we should hang out sometime.” He suggests, sneaking glances at you. 

“I didn’t come back to see you.” 

“Suit yourself, but remember I'm always just a phone call away.”

Read here

[pcttymcrlecu]

fools rush in (and i've been a fool before)

inspired kind-of by: please don’t say you love me by gabrielle aplin

summary: previous fears, heavy words and a fear of change hinders the spark that turned lilah’s heart into summer despite the long canadian winter.

featuring: lilah j. winters (oc) and the vancouver canucks, namely bo horvat, holly horvat, tulsa horvat, milo boeser and coolie boeser

word count: 4k

warnings: none 

m’s rambles: this is for @antoineroussel​’s winter fic exchange 2023. i was given the joy of writing for @torontoflames​ so i hope you enjoy this c!! i spent so long going back and forth hoping to create something worthy to gift to you! it was surprisingly really difficult - not sure i made it as angsty/hurt-comfort as i wanted to but i still hope you enjoy it!

big big thank you to demi for quelling my fears and uncertainties as well as giving me some much needed second opinion on the fic. it’s so very much appreciated!!

i hope you enjoy this semi-personal piece of work – it’s inspired roughly by a relationship/situation i had when i first went to university, so it was cathartic for me to get this out there. there’s a line in here that this someone said to me, and i had to use it. like it’s something and it’s stuck with me, and i needed to make way for it in something i wrote, and this was apparently it. i wonder if you can figure out which line it is.

Lilah had grown up around athletes her whole life which had led to her interest in working with them as a grown-up. When she moved to university, she had somehow cemented herself a place amongst the college athletes in her year by pure chance which made her life easier in the later years of her university career. As cheesy as it sounds, they’d all become like brothers to her and for that, she was more than happy to have found them.

When a fortunate internship program for her chosen career as a sports psychologist had brought Bo Horvat into her life, she never expected to become an honorary Horvat. It had taken mere moments for Bo to claim the young woman, who at the time was a nervous wreck, as his sister and quickly took her under his wing. She would be lying to say she didn’t appreciate having someone on her side in such a daunting and intimidating situation. He took his responsibilities as a big brother seriously and she couldn’t thank him enough for his kindness.

Knowing Bo Horvat came with knowing the rest of the Vancouver Canucks, thus a whole host of new brothers were introduced to her world. Most of whom were happy to play protective big brother when needed on nights out. Their partners gave her a welcome reprieve from all the testosterone whenever she’d see them around to the point where she began to receive invites to brunches and casual hangouts. It was a whole new circle that she could never have dreamed of being a part of and yet when she’d pinch herself, they didn’t fade, and the woman would be lying if she said it didn’t make her feel all warm inside.

Lilah considered herself a woman of strong will and wasn’t one to swoon over any of the players just because of who they were. She thought she’d created strong defences against their so-called charm considering how long she’d been around the flirtatious tendencies of young athletes and yet here she caught herself floating off the ground slightly at the sight of a certain blond. Her eyes were scanning the scene happening in the garden, bobbing gently with Tulsa in her arms in an attempt to give her parents some free time to just exist as a couple, not parents. She loved taking care of them, being their self-proclaimed favourite aunt, and team barbeques like this gave her all the time in the world to cuddle them.  They also gave her the time to observe the man who had unwittingly swept her right off her feet by simply playing around his pair of canine friends.

When she had first met Brock, it had been during one of her training sessions at Thunderbird Arena when she had been introduced to him. He was one of the players she hadn’t met directly through Bo but rather through the very reason she was even allowed to wander around the players in the first place. They hadn’t spoken much; she was mainly there to observe and had made a vow to stay out of the players' way if she didn’t need to interact with them so as to not bother them. It wasn’t until they’d run into each other once again at a dinner party Holly had convinced Bo to throw that they had slipped into surprisingly easy conversation.

Most likely due to the closeness in their age, the two of them got along like a house of fire. Both fed off each other as they supported one another throughout their careers. She had found a safe space in confiding in the hockey player and was more than happy to be there to listen not as a training professional but simply as a friend. The easiness of their friendship should have been a clear warning sign for the woman but as time progressed she couldn’t spot the signs of things changing until it was too late. It felt like all the air had been stolen from her lungs when the reality of her feelings had finally been processed in her mind. She had left that gathering abruptly, claiming she had a report deadline she had forgotten about before disappearing. 

It was a mistake she had made before and she had sworn to herself she wouldn’t date a young athlete ever again, no matter how endearing and kind they seemed. It was almost as if life had intended for her to date one of the university athletes, after all, she spent as much time with them as she did with her actual friends. If you asked her now, she’d say it was nothing but an unfortunate situation and that she doesn’t hold any resentment towards him. But the hurt which was fed by predominantly fear remained. She knew that Brock would never be the kind of person who would humiliate her in the same way it happened in the past, but she couldn’t quite let go of what-ifs that plagued her mind. She wasn’t going to make the same mistake – not at the risk of her newfound friends.

What made it worse was as her feelings began to process in her mind, all their friends teasing came back to haunt her. The two of them were practically as thick as thieves regardless of how short a time they had known each other and the more she thought about it, the more she could see exactly why her friends were constantly teasing them. What she dismissed once as feeling comfortable and safe with Brock, while all true, she could now acknowledge the underlying reasons behind why everything with him just felt right. Lilah hadn’t realised how far they’d progressed entirely subconsciously, and she wasn’t sure how exactly she should feel about but she wasn’t comfortable anymore.

The following weeks were nothing but declined invites and unanswered phone calls. The only times her friends were able to see her were when they were all at work and it was nothing but professionalism when they were able to speak to her. It wasn’t until Holly turned up at her apartment door with a concerned look on her face and open arms that the truth finally came out. The older woman promised not to tell anyone not even her husband until Lilah did so herself.

From that moment, it was slow going to become part of the group once again. None of her friends mentioned her absence rather they just adopted her back into the pack as if nothing had happened. Getting comfortable around Brock, however, was much more difficult for her. She didn’t want to slip back into their old routine, it was dangerous for her because she wasn’t sure how long she’d be able to hold off being near him again. It had taken a much longer length of time, many bribes and an ambush movie night with Milo and Coolie for her to fall back into a comfortable routine with the boy. She still claimed that the puppies did all the heavy lifting that evening.

The same pup that now had an insistent wet nose against her knee, gently pawing at her leg demanding attention. For an excitable young dog Milo who nearly always wanted to do nothing else but play, he was always very aware of young children as he was being so around the baby in Lilah’s arms right now. The dog’s presence, however, clued her into the man who was walking in her direction.

“Hello Prince Charming,” She greeted as he huffed sitting down in the seat beside her, taking a moment to coo at the little girl before rolling his eyes.

“Get off it,” His grumble came, Milo making quick work of getting pets from his dad before wandering off to play with his brother and the other dogs loose in the garden.

“The resemblance is uncanny Boeser you can’t deny it.” She sighed as she leaned over to give the man a gentle push, “I’ll never be able to watch Shrek the same ever again.” 

The laugh that followed was cut short as she paused a moment to look down at the small peaceful face against her chest. Smiling over at him, Lilah took a moment to watch the false frustration on his face fall as he smiled back at her with a good-natured shake of his head. 

“I should have chosen another movie to force you to watch,”

“You shouldn’t have forced me to watch anything!”

“And risk losing my newest friend, no thanks.” Her eyes rolled at his words, a strange tightness building in her chest at what she knew was supposed to be a friendly quip. 

In isolating herself, while it allowed her to wrap her head around the craziness of her own feelings, she had strained the relationships she would say she had been gifted. The whole process was entirely selfish of her, and she hadn’t taken a single moment to consider how it would make her new friends feel.

“You mean a lot more to me than you seem to think you know.” The words cut through her train of thought like a sharp blade, spreading a cold chill through her entire being as she slowly turned her head to look at him through the corner of her eye. Brock’s eyes were already affixed on her, monitoring the slightest changes to her expression. His sudden attentiveness struck a deep fear within her. Even though she knew she should be happy about the implications of his statement, she couldn’t help but feel that feeling of fear sit in her chest again, “I thought I’d lost any inkling of a chance, you know?”

It wasn’t until a beat later that she turned to look at him, adjusting the sleeping infant in her arms to not disturb her, “Chance at what?”

“A chance at being able to tell you that –“

“You know what it doesn’t matter it was in the past.” Her interruption was firm, Lilah could only hope it was firm enough for Brock to get the message to just stop. To let her breathe and process. To give her room to do what she does best and run. 

“It’s not in the past,” He answered louder than either of them had expected, huffing as he turned away and slumped in his seat, “We’ve never spoken about why you cut us all off.”

“Why would we?”

“I can’t speak for the others, but I was scared for you Lils.” His voice was so heart-shatteringly genuine to Lilah to the point where it felt as if she’d been punched straight in the gut.

“No need to be scared for me,” The words were, hopefully, encouraging as she reached over and lightly patted his arm before going back to support Tulsa.

“I can’t help it; I like you, Lilah. I know we joke about it when the others poke and prod, but I really do feel–“

“Brock please don’t do that–”

“Lilah listen to me.”

“You can’t finish that sentence.”

“Why not?”

“Because–!”

“Because? Surely you have a better answer than that.” The look of hurt didn’t escape her notice, but she found herself more focused on the growing frustration on his brow. Real this time – not the light-hearted fake expression he had been donning earlier in their conversation.

“Just– how… we’ve only been friends up until now.”

“Doesn’t mean things can’t change!” His voice was not only getting more frantic but there was a definite tone of conviction that was supported by the look on his face, “I’ve liked you since I met you. I just didn’t know how to get close to you as more than a friend. You were working for the team at the time, I didn’t want to mess that up for you. So, you became my best friend, and I wouldn’t trade that.”

Several beats passed after his confession and Lilah was finding it hard to not only process. A part of her was scolding herself at how thoughtful of her career he was being. They’d spent far too many nights talking about where she hoped to get to in the future so it only made sense that he wouldn’t want to do anything to jeopardise that. The words that followed were whispered, barely carrying any sound, but his response told her that he’d heard it perfectly clearly. “It’s too fast”

“Ask anyone, ask Bo.”

“I believe you, Brock, I just,” Lilah took in a deep breath as she looked back out to the party her eyes hunting for the brother-like figure who had just been mentioned, “I’ve done this before. There’s an expectation being with someone like you and I couldn’t live up to it before, I’m sure as hell not trying again. I’m not going to lose myself again.”

“I wouldn’t ever ask you to change, I thought you knew that.” He had clearly taken some offence from the implication of her words but what hurt Brock more was how much he understood where she was coming from. He knew it wasn’t easy being with him but they were already closer than close, surely a change of their status wouldn’t have that much of an effect?

He’d also say with her when she finally felt comfortable enough to truly be herself and speak about why it wasn’t just her internship that had her reluctant to date any of the players. He remembered having held her close as he watched his, granted reserved, but strong in every sense of the word friend fight to keep her wits about her. It wasn’t until he had let her know that he was there for her that the floodgates and all details about her past were revealed to him. The pain had etched itself into Brock’s heart the more he heard her say with an accompaniment of anger at her ex, boys in general, the world. He wasn’t sure but he knew she didn’t deserve to go through what she had. No one did. 

It’s why he refused to fight her about it. Even though the feeling of rejection cut him deep, it wasn’t deep enough for her to suddenly forget the thought of vengeance in her name that had sat in the recesses of his mind since that eye-opening evening. Instead of fighting and trying to convince her to give him a chance, Brock bit his tongue. He stayed quiet beside her, not knowing where else to go that wouldn’t upset her further until she spoke up once again, directing his attention out of his head and back onto her.

“I don’t I don’t want to lose you. You mean so much to me and I love where we are, how we are.”

Neither of them spoke for a moment as they simply looked at one another. The look of hurt on Brock’s face had only deepened but she could see understanding slip into his face and she couldn’t help but smile to herself. Even in a situation where he’s not getting what he wants, he’s so willing and ready to understand. She would be lying if she said that it didn’t hurt to see him so down. With a forlorn sigh, she carefully rose from her seat and stared ahead at Bo uttering softly before she walked towards him. “Why should we put that pressure on ourselves?“

Brock had been watching her from the moment she walked away, moving to pass Tulsa back to her parents before giving them a wave. It wasn’t until Lilah had walked back into the house to presumably leave that he let himself answer her question. “Because we could be a diamond.”

A blind man could see that there was a shift in the way the two twenty-somethings interacted. The smooth, slickness of their close friendship, which everyone had gotten bored of teasing the two of them about, had gotten more strained than when Lilah had ignored them all. Maybe because it was clear that she was only making an active effort to avoid Brock which unintentionally put a strain on the whole group. Even Lilah could see that she was pulling her friends in two directions, but she couldn’t quite work through her previous experiences to just open up to the one person she knew she needed to speak to.

With the help of multiple glasses of wine deep into a girl’s night, the girls in question had torn down the walls she had put up hiding behind self-deprecating jokes and sarcasm until Lilah’s voice finally cracked as she shared her fears with her friends. They were all quick to wrap her in tight hugs and comfort her, but they weren’t leaving without helping her fix the knot she had tied herself into.

“You realise he’s hurting too, right?” Holly muttered softly, gently lifting the girl’s chin to face her as she listened to her sniffle. The older woman gently wiped the girl’s tears away, offering her a sisterly smile.

“I know and I hate myself for it.” Lilah’s words prompted very firm shakes from not only Holly but the rest of the gathered women.

“He’s never going to hold it over you. He knows how much you were hurt before, and he’d hate to put you through that again.” She confirmed as Lilah’s hand reached up to catch the newly formed tears before they streaked down her face with their friends, “But he’d never–“

“Let that happen, I know Holl.” A frustrated grunt left her mouth as she threw her hands up at no one but herself, “I’m avoiding him because I don’t want to see the sadness on his face when I can’t repeat his words to him. I don’t want to rush into anything – not this time.”

“Then let him know, don’t leave him wondering whether or not you like him at all.” The reality of what she had left Brock to assume finally hit her, a wave and dread flooding her body before resolve took its place. She was going to make things right, the only way she knew how.

Despite her throbbing head, she was up bright and early for work. Maybe brainstorming with your girls and drinking nearly a bottle of wine to yourself isn’t the best way to fuel your energy levels the night before a workday. Her hands held the tupperware tightly as she walked through the practice facility, a burn she’d procured in her tipsy state was on display on her wrist. A small price to pay she had convinced herself, but she was adamant to start making amends immediately. Anxiety was starting to build in her chest, it felt as though someone was pressing down on her heart the closer she got to the locker room, but her mind was set, and she was going to do it.

When her fist gently knocked on the locker room door, knowing only a few of the team would have actually arrived so early before practice but she knew Brock was one of them (Bo as well in case she needed the moral support). A yell followed her knock, but she only responded with another knock until the door was pulled open to reveal big brother himself who immediately cheered at the sight of her. Fortunately, all the boys were dressed, or at least covered up, as they welcomed her inside. Lilah’s greeting was brief, and she momentarily forgot why she even made the journey until Conor asked about what she was holding.

“Oh yeah – Brock these are for you, I know you like them.” Her voice was as soft as it had been when she first met the boys which they all found weird but understood considering the tension everyone had felt around the two recently. She carefully handed over the container which Brock took apprehensively but accepted with a nod, nonetheless. Watching as he pulled the lid off to reveal protein brownie, a smile that she hadn’t seen on his face (at least around her) made residence on his lips as he looked up at her. After the first time she had made the brownies for the boys, Brock had been begging her to make him a batch, but she always brushed the request off, claiming she was too busy, “I finally had some time to make you some more.”

Giving him a quick smile and a shrug, she turned on her heels and walked straight out of the locker room. Pausing as soon as she was out of their sights to just breathe in deep and fill her lungs properly feeling a little lost for breath but proud of herself for the courage that she had displayed. It was small but she knew it was just the start of her apologies. As she set off down the hallway again with a slight skip in her step, a hand slipped around her bicep gently turning her back around to face the way she had just come.

“Thank you,” Was the first thing she heard as her eyes settled on Brock who had let go of her arm and taken a step back. A weak smile was still perched on his lips as he spoke, clearly trying to lighten the mood, “The boys are a little envious, especially Bo.”

“I think he’s just used to getting the baked goods for himself.” Lilah joked with a nervous smile, watching his face before choosing to bite the bullet and just say what she’s been wanting to say, “Listen, Boes – I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt your feelings.”

“Then why did you just walk away? And then avoid me?”

“I told you; I didn’t want to lose you.” It was the honest truth, they both knew it but she also knew it wasn’t the full story. With his kindness and thoughtfulness and willingness to understand, he deserved to know everything, “Being around you makes me both the happiest person in the world and also the most nervous.”

Brock almost couldn’t believe the words he was hearing as his brows furrowed in response, “I make you nervous? Is this still because of the expectations? Of being with a professional athlete?”

“No Brock, I’ve seen you in a clay face mask, I’m not nervous because of who you are!” They both laughed at the memory she had mentioned, it being the same night he gained his new nickname from her, “You make me nervous because my tummy starts to turn, and my heart beats out of control when I’m around you.”

“I’m not going to ask you to do anything that makes you feel unhappy or unsettled. I’m happy where we are too so long as you let me stay here” He couldn’t help but worry that he might have pushed too far and what that meant for their future as friends. His fingers tried to get rid of the anxious energy by softly nudging Lilah’s fingers with her own until he felt a light squeeze from her.

“I didn’t stop you from speaking because I didn’t reciprocate but because I panicked.”

“So, you do care about me the same way?” 

The pure confusion on his face was endearing and all Lilah could do in response was further reduce the gap between them. She reached over and gently took his hand in her own, first grasping onto his fingers and allowing him the opportunity to pull away. When she felt the pressure of his finger bending slightly to hold onto her own, she slipped her hand further in his until their palms sat firmly against one another, “I like how we are, I wasn’t lying. But I can’t deny that my heart skips a beat whenever I’m with you, but we’d be foolish to rush into this and ruin everything that we have. Brock you are my Prince Charming–“

“But he’s–“

“I know he’s the bad guy don’t ruin the moment.” He let out a short laugh, copying her previous actions and stepping closer to her and quickly making work of holding her other hand, “ But I need us to take this slow, can we do that?”

“Of course we can.” The words were whispered as if an entire weight had just fallen off his back. Pulling her across the minimal space between them, his arms wrapped her in the tightest hug he could manage without hurting her and placed a kiss on the crown of her head, “ Whatever you need, you’re what I’ve been looking for.”

[wiypt-writes]

Hi everyone!

I know it’s been a while since my last bit of writing. But I just wanted to give you all an update.

I’m almost, sorta done with the final chapter of Brothers In Arms. Hopeful to find the muse to get this finished soon.

There’s a few chapters of Consciousness Of Guilt to do and a couple of Rock N Roll people. (Yeah, Disco took on a life of his own there…for what was meant as a collection of filthy one shots 🤣)

Then, I guess, it’s seeing which of the four are in need of epilogues and…well, that’s it.

At this point in time, I don’t see any future for Too Loose And You’ll Lose It or Leave No One Behind but we’ll see. Maybe I’ll finish Jakey and Stella’s story but I think Ari and Hannah’s is done. It’s been over a year now since we wrote for them and fast becoming the same for J&S.

I also can’t see anything for Fliss and Frank, or Katie and Steve.

I know this lack of creativity is down to the fact that at this point in time, this fandom/community doesn’t hold the same thrill or spark for me anymore for a few reasons.

Firstly, the absolute shit show regarding the disgusting reactions to CE dating AB really left me with a bad taste in my mouth. The things being written and levelled at her and him are just gross. And people trying to justify it in any way, shape or form are as bad. Get out and touch the grass instead of focussing your hate and negative energy on two people that do not even know you exist 🙄. It’s toxic, and I want NO part of it.

Secondly, the engagement is so down! I’ve never had a huge number of interactions but they’ve declined even more over the last year. People spam liking but not reblogging or bothering to comment… nah. At one time this didn’t bother me. I don’t know why it does now. Maybe because the muse has upped and gone.

So…I dunno what this is, it’s not meant as a pity party. And my main blog @what-is-your-plan-today is going nowhere, neither is this one, and me snd @spectre-posts will continue to do our stuff together but..,,I guess I don’t see a future as a sole writing blog for me anymore.

[haechanhues]

chapter twenty : short of rabid 

*written* 

wc : 1k (probably more I just added some)

warnings : swearing. i apologise for any mistakes - i’ve been stressed and it’s not exactly a normal experience for me. (TMI : i’m also insanely angry with my brother right now)

Han sits in front of you, observing the way your face contorts in the nastiest glare. Your lips curl in disgust, muttering uncontrollable murmurs of anger. 

‘Jisung, fucking look at it,’ You spit as you shove your phone in his face. Jisung’s soft features morph into his own anger and he lets out a few curse words. 

‘Fuck- that’s not right,’ Jisung shakes his head. 

‘They don’t know shit about him-’ Your voice is wobbling at the emotion inside you. Jisung places both hands on your shoulders as you start to unconsciously hyperventilate, ‘-He may have been a bit harsh, but we’ve been working on that. They never give him a chance!’ 

‘That’s the point, Y/N. They’re haters. They’re gonna hate on him whether he makes an effort or not.’ 

You shake your head, almost desperate, ‘He’s a good guy and they’re letting that kind of person slip through their fingers.’ 

‘They are.’ 

You stand up, declaring, ‘I won’t be. I’m not stupid. Not like that anyway. Minho is a good guy and I love him.’ 

Jisung watches you almost sadly. Not for the most unknown reasons but because he shares the sentiment. Minho is a good guy. One of the best, actually. It’s just a pity that only a few get to see it in the way the public never does. 

‘Go get him then, babe,’ Jisung asserts. You nod at him, the clouds of anger finally clearing from your eyes (not totally) but with a new purpose. A new step. You give him a quick hug and he catches wind of your new shampoo you washed your hair with before hurrying across the lawn. 

He looks at the Anti-Minho page on his own phone screen, sending a definitive text to Bang Chan, Changbin and Hyunjin. Bang Chan is typing. Then…he’s not. Jisung knows that shit is going to get real. 

Fuck I’m tired of this. 

Let’s end it then. 

The next few hours the ‘reason why I’m going to die at thirty’ groupchat is filled with schemes and bloodlust. 

You look just short of rabid when Minho opens the door. His eyes widen at the fact your hair is askew and your clothes are slightly out of place. You look like you’ve just woken up. But his heart can’t help but feel what it feels. It almost feels inevitable, this feeling of his. You’re in front of him after not seeing each other for a week or two. His heart feels like it’s about to burst. Sparks. Warmth. He doesn’t exactly have the words to explain it. 

He just feels it. 

‘I miss you,’ You say. 

Minho gives you a small smile, it’s brittle but it’s not as fake as the effort feels, ‘I’ve missed you.’ 

Without waiting like a polite girlfriend, you poke a finger into the hard muscle of his chest before pushing him through the door. He lets you lead him right into his bedroom. He maintains eye contact from the bottom of his chin, his eyes half closed. In any other situation, he’d let the arousal lick through his whole entire body but exhaustion betrays him. 

‘Where’s the boys?’ 

‘Went out just a minute ago…’ 

‘And they didn’t take you?’ You ask suspiciously. He shakes his head. 

You stare at him. His eyes. His mouth. His chest. You find yourself staring at his forearm and the bend of his elbow. It used to scare you, the almost instantaneous feeling of love you felt for Minho. It was like a flower in bloom, starting in your chest before expanding to the skin of your fingertips and the tips of your toes. 

Meanwhile, his head flashes back to the moment he found himself the most heartbroken. You, pressed up against his best friend and your lips touching. It may have been chaste and brief, but it was enough for the damage it had caused. Angry. Jealous. Irritated. He was all of it.

‘Did she cry?’

His face crumples and his voice is betrayed and hurt, ‘I didn’t mean to make her cry… it wasn’t on purpose.’

‘I’m not accusing you of doing it on purpose, I’m just asking the question-‘

‘Then yes, she cried. But it wasn’t on purpose and I tried to sound nicer. But she just- wouldn’t stop crying.’

‘I told her that I wasn’t into her and nothing in me changed. And,’ He swallows, ‘I was going to tell her that she’s a nice girl but she’s not the one for me and I don’t want to try things either.’

He pauses his face imploring into yours. He hates that he can’t read you, ‘But she stopped me..’

‘Stopped you?’

‘She said I clearly had a girl in mind but she understood…and she wished me luck.’

He hates the way you’re looking at him now - monotone and cold. It makes him a little on edge. Minho, with just that slightest bit of annoyance, bites out, ‘What do you want, Y/N?’ 

You blink at him, eyes softening before you blurt out, ‘I miss you.’

He watches you carefully, almost in disbelief.

‘I miss you and this shit you’re going through, Minho….it doesn’t make sense not to be there for you.’

With the way you pause and your lip trembles, you fear you’re about to start bawling.

You take his face into your hands and he stares at you, a facade of disinterest to mask the vulnerability underneath, ‘I love you. There’s people who don't know you. All these people want to dismiss you or to let you slip through their fingers, but not me.’ 

He can feel the emotion filling up behind his eyes, but he can’t seem to make himself cry. You do it for the both of you. With his thumb, he wipes at the tears that leak from your eyes. Your face still wet from tears, he leans in to kiss you. 

Your fingers loop into the collar of his shirt to bring him closer to you and he pushes your head closer to his. The distance of the weeks you were apart finally catching up to you. You don’t stop crying. Minho doesn’t try to deepen the kiss more than it already has, nor does his hands wander to cup and tickle like usual. He keeps his thumbs on your face, collecting the tears that stream down your cheeks. 

The kiss isn’t filled with heat, but it’s warm. It’s safe. It feels like a place of Deja Vu, except the only difference is that you know that this is where you are meant to be. Any other crush you’ve had wouldn’t change it. No other boy. Not even your friends could make you turn away from the relationship you know is right. 

‘I could fill a bottle with your tears, you know?’ He comments, pressing a small kiss to your cheek and catching a falling tear with his cupid’s bow. 

With a swelling feeling of love for your boyfriend. Adoration takes over your body and you push forward to meet your lips with his again. He smiles, carding his fingers through the strands of your hair. 

‘You’re my baby,’ You slightly giggle, knowing that Minho is slightly displeased with the nickname. But strangely taking a liking to it. 

‘…My baby makes me sound like your child.’ 

‘That too,’ You admit. 

Minho smirks, ‘That too?’

‘I’m going to love and protect you forever,’ You tell him and it’s your stupid giddy grin that gets him. He leans down to kiss you once more and you think its the sweetest kiss he’s ever given you.

It’s so sweet, he almost forgets the reason why he needed space.

warning for next chapter : sex is heavily talked about. it’s not even implied. the next chapter is very crude.

J U S T  S A Y  I T

you have two boyfriends. one’s fake and the other a secret. one is avoiding love whilst the other is slowly opening himself to it. a story in which one’s cowardice, another’s insecurities and your own volition leads you here, overwhelmed and exhausted, in the middle of two best friends.

chapter twenty : short of rabid 

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taglist: @soobin-chois @penny-quinn @brit97 @bestleeknowstan @hhjkji @skzgallll @aspenwritesstuff @kflixnet

[guitarriffsolo]

❗️Stolas NSFW alphabet❗️

(This is actually my husband guys)

A - Aftercare

Usually he’s the one whining to be pampered after sex but once he has been well taken care of he will make sure to ask if you’re feeling okay as well. He will get you anything you need even if he’s exhausted

B - Body part

For him, he loves his long bird like legs and they way they fit so nicely over your shoulders <3. On you he loves your belly idk why I can just picture him giving so many tummy kisses and always holding onto your waist. He loves someone with a little pudge tbh

C - Cum

He wants you to cum everywhere on him. His face, his stomach his chest, anywhere you please he’ll gladly accept it.

D - Dom or Sub?

Hugeee sub and only sub. Most he’ll do is be a service top if you request so.

E - Experience

Not very experienced but watched plenty of porn and is always ready to jump into whatever. Really his only experience was Blitzø. The only time him and Stella fucked was when they needed to produce an heir.

F - Favorite position

He loves a good doggy style but will honestly be happy in whatever position you put him in. If he is playing a service top though he only wants missionary to not only watch you but to know that you are seeing him fall apart.

G - Goofy?

He will be a bit giddy at first but then he quickly settles down once his brain has been turned into subby little mush

H - Hair

Now that I think about it I don’t even think theres hair there. Like I think it’s just more feathers.

I - Intimacy

Very intimate and expects the exact same from you

J - Jack off

Would sometimes try to masturbate but is quickly disappointed realizing it’s very hard to make himself feel the way you make him feel and decides its best to let you take care of such things.

K - Kinks

Pretty much an open book to any sort of bdsm. But his favs are impact play, bondage, and sensory deprivation

L - Location

Bedroom pretty much is it. He loves to fantasize of a public quickie but he is still royalty and does still have an image to maintain.

M - Motivation

Very easily turned on. Touch his feathers the right way and he is rock hard begging to be fucked

N - NO

Again, a pretty open book but I truly cannot picture him being into any bathroom things. Maybe I’m biased cuz those are just my turn offs idk

O - Oral

Doesn’t have a huge preference between giving and receiving oral. He’s a flustered mess when receiving and very much squirming the entire time. He loves to see you face when giving oral and feels so proud he can make you feel good.

P - Pace

Loves it fast, rough, and hard but can never deny a slow sensual banging when he’s tuckered out from a bad day.

Q - Quickie

Thinks quickies are soo hot and loves them on days when he’s busy. Though they would never ever beat a full on scene.

R - Risk

Always game to try something new. He loves adding a spark and experimentation into the bedroom.

S - Stamina

Will last pretty much as long as you please. He gets whiny while being overstimulated but he loves it so much and will let you go as long as you please.

T - Toys

Loves all types of toys. Always finding toys you didn’t even know existed but he loves trying all sorts of tools to help that sexy spark.

U - Unfair

Too desperate to be a tease

V - Volume

Very loud, gags are very handy between you two. During sexy he makes lots of owl noises such as hoots and chirps that you find oh so adorable.”

W - Wild card

Can be whiny but not a huge brat because he tries his absolute best to be a super good boy for you. Though he will sometimes fail to suppress all his fussing if he’s being denied.

X - X-ray

His cock is an average length a tiny bit on the skinnier side. Uncut with a slight curve at the end.

Y - Yearning

Very high sex drive and libido. Like some constant fucking machine (I swear it’s concerning sometimes)

Z - Zzz

He tries to stay awake until he’s feeling a bit better. That way he can properly take care of you as well. He also gets a bit insecure afterwards sometimes so that can keep him up

[starlost-andfound]

you put me on and said i was your favourite // jj maybank

a friends to lovers au inspired by that one verse in cardigan by taylor swift

summary: the three times you were there for jj and the one time he was there for you, and a little more

warnings / tropes : jj x reader and a little topper x reader, a pinch of angst, FLUFF

a/n: my first obx/jj fic phew here we go + the gifs didn’t work for all the parts :(

word count : approx 2.96 K

And when I felt like I was an old cardigan

Under someone's bed

You put me on and said I was your favorite

If JJ’s life was an ocean, it would be full of shipwrecks and stranded boats. JJ sometimes felt like he was stranded alone on a boat that drifted out at sea until the ocean touched the horizon. You were his anchor, his guiding light that brought him to shore but sometimes, even the light of the room needs some spark, some support to make it shine brighter.

O N E ------------------

8 year old JJ had hidden himself away in embarrassment from all the other children on the school playground. They all had fancy expensive toys to play with and clean clothes without any holes. They played with toys from The Cut that he couldn’t even afford. He found shelter under the slide and curled into a ball. You had found him there, head in his hands as he cried quietly.

“Are you okay?”, you asked quietly not to startle him.

JJ sniffled and looked up at you. The first thing he noticed was your clothes. You wore clean and undamaged overalls with a tucked in Winnie The Pooh shirt and a pair of red converse. Nothing like his torn second hand shirt, oversized shorts and broken sandals. The next thing he identified was your toy, a Transformers themed truck looking brand new. He shifted slightly, hiding the broken Superman action figure he owned away from your sight. You, however, recognized the signature “S” printed on the blue costume and your face lit up, to JJ’s surprise.

“You have a superman toy! That’s so cool!”, you grinned and sat next to him. “Can I see?”

The boy timidly pulled out the toy, handing it to you. “It’s broken.”

You examined the chipped off arm like it was the most fascinating wonder of the world, “This is so cool.”

Your eyes suddenly sparkled and you gasped. You picked up your toy truck from the ground and showed it to your new friend, “We should play pretend like Superman is on a super secret mission.”

JJ watched with pure adoration and a smile as you explained your genius idea, paying no regard to mock the state of his clothes or tease him about his Superman toy. For the first time he felt like he could trust someone, he felt comfortable.

T W O ------------------

The hammock swung from side to side, swaying the view of the trees above. You laid down with JJ, with his head on your chest as he hugged you close.

“Are you okay?” you ran your fingers through his hair. Throughout your years as friends you had discovered that always seemed to calm him down.

He shrugged. You didn’t push him to confess the whole truth so you hummed quietly. For a brief moment you stopped caressing his hair and he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Please don’t stop that.”

JJ’s grip tightened around you.

“J?”, you lifted your head. You saw it first, the way his shoulders shook and he buried his head in between your neck and shoulder. Then, you heard it, the trembling breath before the tears.

“Oh no, bubs,” you frowned, having to hold in the ache in your chest that threatened your own tears from falling out. You hugged him closer and rubbed his back as he cried, holding onto you as though you were his lifeboat holding him above water.

You leaned to the side, far enough to wipe away his tears, “Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?”

“I-m I’m so tired, y/n,” his voice broke.

“Have you not been sleeping much?”

JJ shook his head and groaned  “I just want a normal dad for once- a normal- a normal life. Those stupid Kooks are living the dream and I feel like I’m st-stuck in hell.”

“I know, I know,” you kissed his forehead. “You’re so brave, you know that? And I’m here for you,”

You cupped his cheek in your hand. “We’ll get through this, okay? Together.”

JJ held out his pinkie finger and you wrapped yours around his. He pulled your entwined hands close to his chest, where his heart rested, tears still falling from his eyes as he calmed down.

“Hey, JJ?”, you asked with a hopeful tone.

“Y-Yeah?”

“Would you rather fight an army of 100 zombie sized chickens or an army of 100 chicken sized zombies?”

JJ fell silent for a moment before you heard him laugh, “Shit, y/n. That’s a big dilemma.”

“Really? I’d take on the 100 chicken sized zombies.”

JJ sat up and wiped his eyes, “No, that makes no sense.”

“What do you mean?”, you laughed. “I thought you didn’t have an answer, Mr. Dilemma.”

“Zombies are slower and human-size, so they’re easier to attack, obviously.” JJ explained like it was the most commonly understood knowledge. “With chickens, evil Chicken Little could literally fly and power kick you in the face with his claws.”

“Evil Chicken Little?”, you threw your head back and laughed. JJ shook his head at his abrupt reference and he broke into a laugh. “We must prepare for any possible outcome, y/n.”

T H R E E ------------------

You had gotten the call on while you were on a lunch date at the Country Club. Topper Thorton sat across you drinking a beer and rambling about his potential for a golf career. You smiled politely agreeing with his words and almost cried in relief when your phone rang.

“Excuse me, for one second, Topper.”

“Sure,” he smiled.

You picked up the call. “Hello?”

“Y/n!”

You swallowed the butterflies in your stomach, hiding your smile.

“JJ?”

“What’s up?”

You looked back to Topper who seemed distracted by his phone.

“I’m kind of on a date right now.”

“No way, please tell me it’s not with Golf Club Thornton.”

JJ took your silence as an answer and laughed. “Well I suppose he is pretty rich.”

“JJ!”, you scolded. “Be nice.”

He sucked in a breath, “Fine, um listen, I kind of need a favour.”

You could feel JJ grimace from the other end of the line. “Could you possibly pick me up from somewhere?”, he asked.

“Where from?”, you replied.

The other line went silent and your expression fell. “JJ Maybank, where are you right now?”

JJ tisked, “Um-Kildare County Sheriff's Station.”

You sighed, “I’ll be there in 20.”

True to your word you had set your date aside, and there you stood outside the familiar building you had waited outside a few times before. JJ emerged from the doors wearing his white shirt and shorts. He twisted his cap backwards and whistled when he saw your formal attire.

“Ms. Y/n L/n, dressing up for me?”

“Oh, shut up. That’s enough sugar coating, get in the car.”

JJ raised his hands in defense, “Phew, mama’s mad, sorry.”

The drive back down to The Cut was silent. JJ leaned his head on the window frame, feeling the wind in his hair. “Thank you for coming. I owe you a pick up”

“I’ll pick you up anytime,” you shot him an amused glance. “Maybe pick a place other than the police station next time.”

“Can’t make any promises, y/n,” he chuckled.

This time your expression grew more serious. “JJ, why do you always do things that wind you up in bad places?”

JJ’s smile fell. “I don’t know.”

“You’re a good person, J. You’re always helping people out even if your situation isn’t the best. You have a heart of gold, promise me you won’t waste it in a jail cell.”

“I didn’t do something bad this time.” he replied as you pulled the car to a stop in front of The Chateau. You turned to him, some form of hope in your eyes.

“Pope- he got in trouble and I covered for him.”

You smiled softly and reached your hand over to his. JJ slipped his hand into yours and squeezed it tight.

“Why do you do that?” JJ asked.

“Do what?”

“Believe in me.”

“Because I know you’re worth so much more than the value you give yourself.”

------------------ O N E

“What the heck?”, you scoffed.

Topper sighed and tried to reach for you, “Y/n, please try to understand.”

“You invited me to meet your parents,” you paused and took a deep breath, trying to hide your tears. “Your parents are sitting in the living room over there, and you’re breaking up with me.”

“Look,” Topper closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I know it looks bad.”

“Yeah, no shit, Top. What’s your excuse this time?”, you folded your arms over your chest. “You need to work on yourself, now?-”

“Y/n, no-”

“Are we moving too fast, again?”

“Y/n-”

“You found someone else?”

Topper looked away from you.

“Wow.” you clapped your hands slowly. “Congratulations, Topper.”

“It’s not what you think, babe, please,” he let the nickname slip before he could think.

“Babe? Yeah, I know what it is. You don’t want to disappoint mommy with your filthy girlfriend from The Cut.” You huffed and picked up your bag. “Goodbye, Topper.”

You stormed outside his house and down the driveway.

“How are you going to get home?”, he yelled.

“Oh?”, you turned around, throwing your hands up in the air. “Like everyone else from The Cut does.”

The headlights of Topper’s car turned on, illuminating the path. “I’ll drive you,” he spoke from the door. You sighed and got into the car, making sure to slam the door as hard as you could. The drive back was consumed by tension and silence. Topper cleared his throat, breaking the quiet and he turned on the radio.

You’re listening to Kildare Radio Station. Playing now is Taylor’s Version of All Too Well. Brace yourselves for some heartbreak.

Topper turned off the radio, throwing you both back into silence.

“So,” you choked on the lump in your throat. “Who’s the girl?”

“I think it’s best I don’t say.”

You looked out the window, biting down on your lips as tears pricked your eyes. “It’s Sarah, isn’t it?”

You turned to him and he gulped.

“You always had a knack for reading people too well,” he whispered. You could sense some guilt, some regret in his tone but it disappeared as soon as he fell silent.

“I think I can walk from here,” you sniffled.

Topper pulled the car to a stop and you stepped out, shutting the car door without a glance back. The car turned around and left you walking home alone, with a breaking heart. You gasped shakily as the first tears fell and you welcomed the ache in your chest with broken cries. You heard a rumble from above and a sudden downpour of rain fell upon you, drenching you in tears and heavy showers. You sighed, hurrying down the road, holding your bag close to your chest.

Your dress clung to your skin, your hair dripping. The mix of rain and tears had stained your cheeks with trails of mascara. After travelling a few blocks you spotted a park and to your luck, a slide providing some shelter. You hurried across the grass and slid under the slide, stopping the patter of rain on your goosebump covered skin. You pulled out your phone from your bag, scrolling down the contacts with blurry vision. Almost by muscle memory, you found his contact and called him and half a ring later the call connected.

“Y/n?”

“Hi,” you sniffled.

“Is everything okay?”

“Remember how y-you said you o-owed me a pick up?”

“Where are you right now? Are you safe?”

“Yeah, yeah I am-” You looked out from under the slide, the rain continued it’s harsh downpour. “I’m a few-a few blocks away from th-the Chateau, you know the playground?”

You heard a shuffle on the other end of the line before JJ spoke, “I’ll be there in 10, just hang in there, okay?”

“Okay.”

True to his word, 10 minutes later you heard footsteps. You looked out, noticing JJ’s most worn pair of shoes approached you. JJ crossed over the playground, shielded from the rain by the umbrella. He leaned down, shooting you a smile as he found you under the slide, “Well, hello, beautiful lady, got room for one more?”

You shifted over and JJ joined you, closing the umbrella and setting it beside him before he settled down. He looked around the cramped space. “This is comfortable.”

You cracked a smile, “Welcome to my humble abode.”

“Very humble,” JJ looked up at the bright red underside of the slide, hearing the rain slide down above. “I like what you did with the roof.”

“Thank you,” your lips trembled slightly as another downfall of tears fell.

“Woah, woah, woah,” JJ wrapped his arms around you, letting you lean your head on his shoulder. “Easy, there bubs.”

You fell into his arms, holding him tight as you cried, “I’m such an idiot, J. I really believed we had something.”

“It’s okay,” JJ mumbled. “We’re all idiots sometimes.”

“No-not helping.”

“Sorry,” JJ winced. He held you in silence, giving you the space to let out your feelings, and the time for him to put his thoughts into words to comfort you. His heart ached in his chest seeing you in a pained state yet his own pain clashed with the fluttering butterflies in his stomach that flew high with you in his arms. The words were on his tongue, waiting to be spoken out loud instead of to the mirror.

“Sometimes our hearts don’t always pick the right path,” JJ gulped. “But that doesn’t make you an idiot. Topper’s the real idiot for dumping you. He lost a beautiful, loving and true person. He lost someone more valuable than any gold.”

You hugged JJ tighter, “You really mean that?”

“I swear on my bike.”

“Thank you, JJ.” you looked up.

JJ chuckled, wiping the stray tears from your cheek. “Do you want to go home?”

“Can we stay here for a bit?” you asked. “I like the rain.”

“Of course.”

JJ noticed you shiver and pulled off his sweater.

“JJ, you don’t ne-”

“Just put it on,” he said softly, helping you to pull the warm grey sweater over your trembling form. “Don’t want you to fall sick.”

JJ hugged you tightly, rubbing his hands up and down your covered arms to generate some warmth. He placed a kiss on your head.

“When did you get so good at words?”, you asked, stretching out your hand to feel the rain.

JJ smiled, resting his head back against the slide. “Learned from the best, I guess.” He poked at your side.

You laughed.

“Hey, there she is,” he grinned. He paused to take a deep breath, heart beating heavily in his chest.

“Your heart is beating scarily fast,” you noted the sudden increase in his heart against his chest that you rested on, oblivious to the reason why.

“Remember the day we met?”, he whispered through the rain.

You nodded, “You had the coolest action figure in the whole playground.”

“And you had the cutest pair of overalls and shoes and the biggest heart,” JJ breathed shakily. “And you asked me if I was okay and you played with me, and you never judged me. Not once.”

You sat up, looking JJ in the eye. “J?”

“Just-just let me say this.”

You nodded quietly and JJ took another deep breath.

“You never made me feel like I was worth less and you made me feel loved, capable of loving and being loved.” JJ’s eyes teared up and he looked away out at the rain. “And I saw you on the playground that day and suddenly my heart started to beat so fast and I didn’t know why.”

“Every time I saw you I got the same feeling I get when I ride my bike. This,” his hand guided yours to his chest. “My heart beating at 120 miles an hour, every second I spend with you.”

“And everything I said was true. You are beautiful and so understanding and humble and it breaks my heart everytime I see you with Topper because I know he doesn’t treat you right- and-and it’s not because you need to be with me,” he rambled. “I-I’ll be fine if you don’t feel the same way, I just want you to be happy.”

JJ grumbled, “I don’t even know where I’m going with this.”

Your hand trailed up his chest to his cheek. JJ looked up and met your eyes as you spoke. “I remember that time you taught me how to surf and I caught my first wave. The wave was probably the smallest wave in existence-”

He laughed.

“- but you cheered me on like I had just won the Nationals. I remember the day you first got your bike and you insisted you take me for a drive.”

You chuckled, “I held you so tightly because I was so scared of falling off but even after I got off the bike, my heart still wouldn’t stop beating so fast and in that moment I knew that I had the biggest fattest crush on JJ Maybank. I was just so scared that if you didn’t feel the same, I could risk losing you.”

JJ leaned his forehead against yours and held your cheeks in his hands. “You could never lose me, y/n.” he whispered. You placed your hands over his, brushing your thumb against his knuckles. Your eyes made contact, subtly flickering down to each other’s lips before they looked back at each other.

“Hey J?” you gulped.

“Yeah?”

“Can I kiss you?”

JJ smiled, “I’ve been waiting for you to ask me that.”

He leaned down, pulling you in for a kiss. Your heart mended and melted into his as the rain fell around you. In that moment, it was just you and him, and you breathed it in like the smell of the outside after rain, like the comfort of his sweater, like the warmth of a friend and lover’s arms.

Taglist: @theduckgoesquack​ @stuffofseaveyy​ 

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

0X1=?, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: You were one and he made you both zero. He has it all, a stable life, all that money, a wife lined up, and your body as his drug, him coming back for hit after hit. They called you a bad influence. You called yourself Jeon Jungkook's ex.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; angst; cheating; stereotyping of tattoos; reader is verbally abused by JK's wealthy parents; JK and reader are foolish, wounded animals and act accordingly; rough hate sex (fem reader, biting / marking / scratching, f and m-receiving oral, cowgirl, penetrative sex); non-idol!BTS - exes, tattooed, rich!Jungkook x rebellious!reader, ft cameo of Kim Taehyung as JK's best friend

–

now playing – 0X1=LOVESONG (i know i love you) by txt ft. pH-1, Woodie Gochild, Seori

"I hate you."

"Join the club. Current members, me."

He narrowed his eyes and tossed his keys onto the table next to the door, kicking off his sneakers.

"We gonna fuck or what?"

You raised an eyebrow. "You tell me you hate me and then you want to fuck?"

"Stranger things have happened. I could tell you I love you."

You made a gagging noise. "Disgusting."

He pretended to be shocked. "How could you say such a thing?"

You slammed the door shut and walked past him, not saying anything. You heard him stride behind you, following to your bedroom.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Right, and I'm a dog. We done lying now?"

"You are a dog," you replied, falling onto the bed.

His head popped into view, long black hair hanging down, half of it pinned back to reveal his undercut and two dangling black earrings on his right ear.

"You fuck dogs? Nasty. I'm not into bestiality, sorry."

You narrowed your eyes at him. "Shut the fuck up, Jungkook."

Jeon Jungkook cocked an eyebrow, adjusting his black turtleneck by hooking a finger on the collar and sliding it from side to side, the small tattoos on his knuckles and fingers dancing with the action.

"Why are you stressed like a nun?"

He clicked his tongue. "Her idea of getting freaky was trying to chew my neck off. Went full piranha on me."

You snorted. "Maybe you deserve it. Would have saved me the trouble."

"Ha, ha, very funny."

He glared at you and you glared back from the bed.

"So, how was fucking my best friend?" he snapped.

You scoffed. "I didn't fuck Taehyung. I told you already."

"That's not what he said."

"So what? I've never seen his dick or had it near my pussy. If he wants to make up shit, that's his prerogative."

Jungkook didn't look like he believed you, but you weren't the one cheating on your girlfriend with your ex, so it wasn't something you cared about. He narrowed his eyes.

"Swear."

"On what?" you shot back. "Your right nut?"

"Your life."

You snorted. "Well apparently to you, that ain't worth shit."

He was reaching for the bottom of his turtleneck and pulling it up and over his head. You felt a tinge of annoyance, seeing the dark, spotted bites on his side and shoulder. He yanked the article of clothing over his head and you spied the one on his neck, a blotted, messy patch of red-purple. It was ugly on his pretty tan skin.

You could do better.

"Your girlfriend know the meaning of sexy?"

"She's not my girlfriend."

"That's not what she or your parents think."

"She and my parents can suck each other's dicks."

"Didn't know you liked dick. Guess that's why we didn't work out."

He tossed his turtleneck aside and growled, crawling onto the bed. Large, powerful, shoulders flexing, copious black tattoos covering his right arm and shoulder, a full sleeve. On the inside of his right bicep was a skull with a knife in its head.

You picked that one, a long time ago.

You looked into his eyes.

He had noticed you glancing at it.

She's ruining your life! Look at you! Tattoos all over your arm and hand! How could you get these ugly things?

Jungkook didn't say anything. He just grabbed your arm and started yanking your clothes off, just like how you grabbed his pants and started pulling them off his body, throwing them violently aside.

Don't you dare speak to our son ever again, you good-for-nothing whore. You think we wouldn't notice your poisonous influence sullying him? It took us months to find a nice, sensible girl willing to put up with your mistakes!

Hands and skin and teeth and hate, tumbling onto the covers, the taste of his flesh on your tongue and his cologne attacking your nose, his large hands gripping your soft thighs, pushing them apart, looking down into those chocolate eyes, the voices melding together, arguments, tirades, chaos, a fucking mess of you biting your tongue while Jungkook stood there and did nothing to defend you.

I hate you so fucking much, Jungkook!

And calling my parents dogs licking the shit off countryside roads is any better? The fuck is wrong with you?!

They were eating me alive in there and you said nothing! Absolutely nothing! I'd go to hell and back for you and you couldn't even say a single fucking word!

You were in hell. You came back.

And now you were in hell again.

"Damn, she must be fucking horrible at making you feel good if you keep coming to me."

Jungkook rolled his eyes and you clamped your thighs around his head, nearly a triangle choke as you dragged him along the sheets, him half-crawling to follow you, shuddering at the close proximity of your pussy to his face. When he spoke, his warm breath saturated your wetness.

"She doesn't even taste half as good as you and never fucking listens when I tell her what I like," he grumbled.

"Yeah? You tell her you like it when you shove your face into pussy?"

He scowled.

"Like I said, she doesn't taste good. I never give her head."

And he attached his lips to your heat, slurping noisily, sighing in satisfaction as you squeezed his head with your thighs, hot and slick tongue sparking your sensitive skin, fuck, yes, this is what pussy should taste like, so sweet, fuck, familiar and erotic, his hands sliding up and gripping your ass, firm and solid while staring up at you, opening his mouth and letting you see the pink, wet muscle flick and dance over your clit, ghosting it with pleasure but not giving it to you, your honey-like juices glistening on his lips and chin.

You clenched your jaw. "Get serious already. Stop fucking around."

Jungkook narrowed his eyes.

"I'm always serious with you."

His lips closed in and he made your mind go blank, soft black hair fanning out on your thigh, fast, swift, powerful licks all over your sensitive bundle of nerves, sending shocks and jolts of pleasure shooting up your spine from your core, one of your hands twisting in his hair, bunching it up, his sharp jaw cutting into your inner thighs because you were squeezing so hard, but Jungkook didn't care, always saying, do it, choke me with your thighs, if I'm gonna die, I'm gonna die eating you out, his long fingers splayed out over your ass and pushing your hips into his face, making you hump his waiting mouth and his punishing tongue, hot flames of desire taking over, your head tipping back, pulling on his long hair, moans of his name tumbling from your throat, suck harder, fuck, seeing black from the sudden blinding tension, his skillful tongue fiercely teasing your engorged clit in the overwhelming tightness, snapping the strings of sanity.

"J-Jungkook!"

The impossible high, the violent shivers, shooting into accelerated free-fall, your fingers unclasping from his hair and pushing his head into your throbbing core, his tongue shoving into your folds and moaning at the sensation of your muscles clamping around it, sucking it all out, your orgasm consumed by his greedy mouth.

Your name vibrated in your own pussy, delivered by sinning lips and hazy dark brown orbs drugged with lust.

Back then, when it was falling apart, you told Jungkook all sorts of things and he said all sorts of things back. Painful things, hateful things, pitiful things, pointless things, never having a real conversation about how deeply he hurt you.

Only later, a strange moment, seeing Jungkook at your front door, seeing it in his eyes. Something different.

He asked you if you wanted to fuck with no strings attached.

You bit back, as wounded animals do.

Why? You were such a waste of time.

Jungkook didn't know it, but his next words made you agree to this ridiculous arrangement.

Yeah, but I was your waste of time and that's all I ever wanted to be.

When he kissed you now, it was hungry and heady, drunk on your taste and you, forcing his tongue into your mouth and thrusting into your lips. Tangled bodies, tangled tongues, tangled minds, falling into the bed, his hands in your hair and yours in his, whispers of, she'll never make you feel as good as I can make you feel, your lips and tongue all over his jaw and ear, biting down on it, earrings jingling against your cheek, his moan above your head as you traveled down, marking his skin with sharp bites and thick swipes of saliva, pretty pink marks all over his torso, contrasting the bruises.

"Of course not," Jungkook panted, a shuddering groan torn out of his throat as your nails raked down his back and then glided back up, fingertips pressing into the irritated skin, soothing it. "She never fucking listens to me or my body because she's an idiot."

You traced the curves of his muscles, lips ghosting kisses, hot and soft and sharp from breath and tongue and teeth, his body becoming yours from persistent, familiar touch, his name in your mouth and on his skin, your saliva dripping over his hard, thick length, and then your mouth was on it, his taste on your tongue, in your throat, and in your memory.

Jungkook moaned your name.

With longing, pain, and love.

When's the wedding?

Next year.

Huh. Good for you.

No, it isn't, and you know it. Bet you're glad I'm going to be miserable forever.

You've made me miserable forever, so serves you right.

"Get off, I don't want to blow my load in two seconds, fuck!"

You swallowed him as deep as you could and then pushed your head down so the tip was buried into your throat, swelling and twitching at the unbearable, euphoric constriction.

"F-Fuck, please, let go, fuck... oooh, shit..."

Your tongue outlined the underside of his length, humming around his cock, rubbing the base of the head and straining to slurp at it, letting him hear you, lewd, obscene, unafraid.

If he really wanted to, he could pull out now.

Jungkook breathed your name, savoring every syllable.

You stared into dark brown eyes, black pupils expanded, watching his jaw flinch and his shoulders shake, black tattoos shivering as you slowly removed your tight mouth, popping it off his cock with a wet plop.

His normally smooth, silvery voice was trembling, the pleasure deepening it.

"God, I hate you."

Jungkook and you could say it a thousand times, a million times, for all of time, and both of you would know neither ever meant it.

I love you.

Get out, Jungkook.

But–

Get the fuck out! You think you can fuck me and tell me you love me? Like that's going to somehow negate all the previous bullshit you put me though? No. Take your clothes and your pathetic self and get out. Come crawling back to me on your knees when she reaffirms to you that I'll be the best fuck you'll ever have.

He would. He did.

Over and over.

You towered over him now, waiting for him to roll the condom down, watching his face as you sank down onto his stiff length, seeing the elation, the gratification, the absolute bliss in the way your pussy suffocated him, tight, wet, his, your head dipping down and taking his lips, yours, fitting yourself around his girth that became harder as you bottomed out, his moan feathering over your lips as you rolled your hips into his with a firm smack.

"Oh, fuck, feels so fucking good..."

He knows you're not going to fuck someone else. You have to see other people so he finally realizes how important you are to him.

That's the stupidest shit I've ever heard in my life, Taehyung.

If you don't refuse him, he won't change.

I was never important enough to him in the first place.

Those chocolate orbs watching you, his strong hands on your hips, fingers pressing into your skin and leaving crescents of his nails, matching your pace, harsh, deep slaps of skin to skin, your name on the tip of his tongue, balanced in the tightrope of all or nothing, zero or one.

They want me to take over the family business.

Having a trophy wife is important for that kinda shit.

You're the perfect trophy.

Yeah, me and my mechanical heart.

Jungkook switched your positions, rolling over and pinning you down, perfect white teeth sinking into his pink lower lip, the black mole underneath prominent against his tense jaw, fucking you into your mattress, panting, giving you his all, aching pleasure with every rough thrust, your back arching and hands on his long black hair, clutching his head and raising your hips to meet that full hardness and to hit your favorite spot, sending bursting sparks of ecstasy up your spine and into your lungs, rendering you airless.

Nothing but pleasure, nothing but need, nothing but physicality.

“Look at me,” Jungkook rasped, hoarse from breathing so hard.

You lowered your head and raised an eyebrow. His parted lips had small cuts from stress-biting them. His tan skin was as lovely as ever, dotted with small moles on his nose, cheek, neck, underneath his lip, kisses from the moon, not bothering to wear makeup to cover them. He never did, not with you, not when his time could be better utilized being all over you. Dark brows and chocolate eyes, large, sharp, expressive, beautiful, your Jungkook.

Your country, your world, your universe.

You smirked as you looked at that face. He cocked a brow, black curls falling over his eye as you lifted your hand.

“You know what would piss them off?”

You didn’t need to say who.

He clicked his tongue and slammed his hips down on you, but you only clenched around him, causing him to pause and savor the feeling. His length wrapped in your warmth, connected in the most visceral way, his breath mixing with your breath. Dark brown orbs on you, half-lidded and shadowed by his lashes and long hair.

“What?”

You pushed his hair aside and traced his right eyebrow, stroking the hairs of the tail.

“If you got a face piercing.”

Jungkook grinned, low chuckle in his throat. “Yeah?”

You lifted yourself up to smack your hips into him, holding onto his broad shoulders with your other arm to balance yourself, devious smirk on your lips.

“You won’t do it.”

He leaned down, putting more force into each thrust. Your grip tightening, gasping into his face, eye to eye, dragged along by Jungkook’s intensity and passion, breathing in his exhale, drinking in his fervor, blind to the wrongness, deaf to everything but the sound of bodies, wetness to hardness, and the way he said your name, like there was nothing else, nothing but you and him and ecstasy, nothing but the sensation of how hard and how full his cock felt when he was inside you, nothing but how strongly and viciously you pulsed around him, toppling over the edge, moaning his name and staring into his eyes, into the eyes of the one that made you orgasm and mean it with every fiber of your being.

“Jungkook…”

He sucked in a breath and gasped your name, cock twitching and spurting into the condom, plunging forward, kissing you hungrily and deeply, shoulders shaking in your hands, stealing your breath, muffled cries sliding into your throat from his, anguish at the force of his climax, sweeping you up with him.

It was a long kiss.

He finally broke it, heavy exhale against your lips, not lifting his head, his black hair spilling all over your face, not letting you see anything.

Mouthing words against your cheek that you could feel, but it was a silent utterance, a soundless scream into the abyss that he alone was sinking, living a life without you.

Enjoy your piranha.

Ha, ha, very funny.

She’s not gonna notice?

He hadn’t said anything, pulling his turtleneck over his head and shaking out his long black hair like a dog. You had pulled your blankets over your naked body and looked away, not wanting to see him any longer.

You’re trash, Jungkook.

Yeah, but I could buy you a Louis Vuitton bag, easy.

You’ve been hanging around your parents too much. I don’t give a shit about your money or your influence and I never did.

Everyone likes money.

Everyone likes you too. Oh, wait, except me. I guess I’m excluded from everyone.

He hadn’t said anything more. You didn’t tell him goodbye when he left.

You waited until your heart became numb again. Then you mechanically crawled out of bed and cleaned up all traces of his existence, going all the way outside to dispose of the condom and the wrapper so you wouldn’t accidentally look at them in the trash later. You put your clothes back on, one by one, and went about your day. And the next day. And the next. And the.

And.

“Are you okay?”

“Huh? Yeah, I’m fine,” you would say to whoever asked. You would smile and nod.

Time went on.

You would open the door and no one was there.

You would close the door and go back inside.

You would open the door.

And Jeon Jungkook was there, with a cut on his lip and a black-purple bruise underneath his left eye.

His right eyebrow was slightly swollen, two stainless steel balls connected by a silver bar pierced into the end of his brow. His clothes were torn up, his white dress shirt dirtied and his dark wash jeans torn, brown mud caked on one knee. He looked at you, chest shuddering, wheezing for breath.

“Hah…”

He smirked, the gesture not reaching his eyes. Those dark brown orbs were desolate, numb. He wiped his lip with the back of his hand and winced.

“I think they’re mad at me.”

You raised your eyebrows.

He flicked a hand through his now short black hair and ticked his head. “They told me not to show my face in front of them ever again and that I can kiss my inheritance goodbye.”

You leaned against your doorframe. “They took the silver spoon from your mouth over an eyebrow piercing?”

Jungkook shrugged. “I guess it pissed them off when I said I wasn’t going to take it out.”

He made eye contact and you saw him trying to tell you that he had changed.

Well.

Was forced to change, now poor and cast away.

“I know you said I was a waste of time,” Jungkook sighed, heavy and remorseful. “But I was your waste of time and that was all I ever wanted to be.”

You looked into those chocolate orbs that always told you they loved you.

“They knew, huh?”

He smiled ruefully. “I didn’t try to hide it. She knew, they knew, they probably all knew where I went.”

“And what will you do when they ask you to come back?”

Jungkook stood at your doorstep and told you words that you had always wanted to hear, but he had been too afraid to say, afraid of the repercussions, confused of his own feelings, too selfish at the time to realize how much he had hurt you. Time and emptiness had taught him pain and taught him what it meant to be without.

The time taught him how it felt to be not one, but zero.

“Tell them I should have left a long time ago and stayed with you, because you always let me be whoever I wanted to be even though all I was doing was wasting your time.”

He faced you, you and your mechanical heart that he created with his silence.

“I’m sorry.”

His apology meant nothing to you, far too late.

“Now I have nothing but time.”

It never mattered. You always knew Jungkook was sorry from the moment he asked to fuck with no strings attached. It was for him and for you. For him to touch you once more, even if it was all a lie, and for you and your mechanical heart, cleaning off the rust and giving it a moment to feel. He knew. You knew.

Without each other, you were both zeros when you could have been one.

And it was all his fault.

I know you’re not here, but I love you, Jungkook.

You sighed.

Then you shrugged.

“Yeah, well, I got nothing but time too.” You tilted your head, chuckling. “And even now, I waste it on you.”

Jungkook smiled sadly. He didn’t ask to be forgiven. He didn’t ask to be invited in. He just stood at your doorstep, finally able to say the words he should have said. He didn’t ask you to love him. You already knew he loved you. He mouthed it all the time, I love you, against your cheek, after each and every rendezvous, without fail.

Now he had nothing.

But you could see he was going to give it his all this time.

You stepped away from the doorframe and turned around, waving him in.

“If you’re gonna be my waste of time, at least wash your face.”

-

continued in LO$ER=?, m | jjk

--

masterpost

[samstrugglingwithlife]

You Make Him Blush

Genre: Fluff

Characters: Oikawa, Kuroo and Akaashi

Warning: Swearing, sorry

A/N: Ya girl is finally posting. I mean it’s 5 am right now but hey! I did it. V, proud of myself (I should sleep but no). I hope you enjoy it. (It’s not edited, I skimmed over it but I may have missed some mistakes, so sorry about that!!)

OIKAWA

This fucker likes to play games with you. He makes you blush all the goddamn motherfucking time. He'll wink at you before making a killer serve, lift his shirt just enough during practice that you'd see his toned abs, he'll whisper ungodly shit in your ears when you're out in public. And honestly, you're super tired of feeling your cheeks heat up every time this guy so much as breathes in your direction.  

In the start of your relationship when the two of you were still a new couple you had witnessed him blush, but it was a mild flush out of nervousness. You always felt that you never made him as flustered as he made you.

So there you were, on a Saturday evening whining to your best friend that your boyfriend doesn't get nervous around you anymore and that the spark in your relationship was dwindling.

"I don't think that it's getting mundane, your relationship," your BFF started. "He's hella whipped for you, makes me gag."

"Then? How can he make me blush, but I can't even make him mildly flustered?" you asked, your shoulders slumping in a defeated manner. "Why do you even care about that?" 

You stare at your friend, "Because, he does it all the time! I wanna do it too! I wanna see him flustered!" you whine. "I wanna make him speechless!"

 "Oh so it's a game?" your friend asks you blankly. "Listen either help me or don't judge me."

That conversation was a week ago. Today was a rare date where you and Tooru would go out rather than him practising his serves in the gym and you watching him and feeding him snacks in between.

He waited for you outside your house. You paced in your room, checking yourself in the mirror anxiously. Was it too much? Will he laugh at you? Do you look stupid? A million thoughts were rushing through your head as you looked at your appearance in the mirror. With a nervous groan, you exit your room and make your way to the front door.

As soon as he hears the front door open, he turns around with a wide grin, "Finally! What took-" he is stunned as he lays his eyes on you, "you... so long..." his words dying in his throat.

You blink in shock as you witness a deep flush spreading across his cheeks. Your face also felt hot but with embarrassment. "Th-this wasn't a good idea!" you stutter. "I'm gonna go change!" you turn to leave, but you are yanked backwards by your wrist, falling against Tooru's strong chest. "You look great," he mumbles into your shoulder. "So so beautiful..."

You were surprised, you had no idea that wearing his turquoise jersey tucked into your jeans would have this much impact on your boyfriend.

The whole time during your date, Tooru kept stealing glances at you, and every time your eyes would meet, a dark blush would appear across his face. You wanted to grin and say that it serves him right! That it was your revenge. But you couldn't say a single word, your face equally as red as his.

Because the thing is, you never realised that a blushing, flustered Tooru was absolutely way too fucking adorable. 

KUROO

It's not that you never made him flustered or nervous. You were an absolute beauty, and everything you did was enough to bring him to his knees, but he hid it well. He'd hide it behind a facade of a confident tease; when that wouldn't work, he'd strategically turn his face away from you until the redness left his cheeks.

You were under the impression that he was way too suave and that you did not have that sort of power over him. Oooh! And boy, were you wrong!

It happened right before the match between Nekoma and Nohebi. You were hanging out with the team before they went out into the court and you went to the spectator's area. 

Kuroo's team bumped into the opposing team, and obviously, your boyfriend had to shit-talk the other team. You stood to the side rolling your eyes.

Your boyfriend took another jab at Daishou regarding his ex-girlfriend. Irked, the other team's captain attempted to tease him back by saying that Kuroo doesn't even have a girlfriend.

You raised your brow, stepped forward and looped your arm around your boyfriend's and smiled sweetly at Daishou, "Now, now. I'm very offended that you think that I don't exist."

Kuroo smirked as the other guy sputtered an apology towards you. You accepted his sorry. 

You realised that it was soon going to be time for you to find a seat, so you leaned up and placed a chaste kiss to the corner of his lips. You could literally see his head exploding as a deep red blush appeared on his face. 

You almost didn't hear both teams sputtering because your eyes were blinking at your boyfriend's current state.

Yaku and Kai dragged the Nekoma team away, while Nohebi left on their own, Daishou giving Kuroo a hateful glare as he left.

As soon as it was just the two of you, he buried his face in the crook between your neck and shoulder. His knees began to feel weak. He groaned, his voice muffled by your skin.

"Tetsu, are you okay?" you asked, confused. He only shook his head still buried in your neck. "I look so lame right now..." he mumbled into your skin. He felt the vibrations on your throat as you laughed and stroked his hair. "What? You think I think you're lame because you stopped functioning because of a simple kiss?" he nodded again. This caused you to laugh loudly this time.

He pulled back and glared at you weakly, his face still flushed red. "Do you have any idea what you do to me?" he asked. You smiled and flicked his forehead, "Go out there and win, cool guy," you grin. He pouted but left after placing a quick kiss to your forehead, ready for his team to hoot for him teasingly.

As soon as he was out of sight, you placed a hand over your beating heart in your chest and took a deep breath. Did he have any clue what he does to you?

AKAASHI

Right. So I headcanon that this guy is not that difficult to fluster but he, just like Kuroo, tries his best to hide it afraid you'd think that he is unattractive.

It's a difficult task to control his face from getting red because everything you do is so cute he can't help it. One time he had to physically remove himself from your presence before you could see his neck turning red.

This one-time Bokuto found him in the storage room, face buried between all the volleyballs in the basket. He has never been more scared in his life than seeing his teammate, who is the epitome of calm, losing his shit because his S/O decided to be cute that day. 

You weren't unaware of the effect you had on him but you knew that he was embarrassed, whatever his reason was, so you never intentionally did anything that would fluster him.

So imagine your surprise when you suddenly come face to face with a new side of him.

The two of you were hanging out in a cafe, you guys were on a study date. Keiji was immersed in his textbook, his hand holding yours across the table. You noticed that his lips were slightly chapped, thinking that they would hurt if his skin stretches, you call out to him, "Keiji." He looks up from his book at you, "Hmm?" he hums.

Without thinking, you swipe your thumb across your lower lip, gathering up the gloss and then proceed to wipe it on his lips. He couldn't even get up and hide, his entire face flushes a deep red. He buries his face in his folded arms on the table with a loud thud. "K-Keiji?!" you call out startled. "Are you okay?"

"J-just give me a minute, I need to calm down," he says, face still buried in his arms. "Okay?" you sit back, confused, taking a sip from your drink.

After a while, he slowly looks up, his face still slightly flushed. "You good?" you ask. He nods weakly. "Sorry..." he apologises. "You must think I look stupid."

You wrinkle your brows in confusion, "What?"

"I mean, I probably look dumb with my face all red and ugly..."

"Keiji," you begin calmly. "You have this effect on me all the time, do you think I look stupid?" you ask.

"No!" he says quickly. "I think you look adorable."

You smile, "There you go! What makes you think that I don't think that you don’t look adorable?" He looks away, unable to answer. "Sweety, you need to stop overthinking about things like that. I love you no matter what."

He smiles weakly and laces his fingers with your fingers. He didn't say anything after that, but you could feel him relax. He felt giddy in his heart, you said you loved him. He didn't tell you yet but he will soon, in a way you deserve to hear it.

[thenovelartist]

ABC Fluff Headcanons - Vyn Richter - Tears of Themis

A = Admiration (what do they absolutely adore about you?)

If this was a fairytale, it would be Beauty and the Beast. Except he was simply the Beast and you were his magic rose he got to watch bloom. But instead of watching you under glass, he preferred it to be removed, even if it shredded your innocence in the process, but oh, watching you grow anyways, both blooming beautifully while growing fierce thorns to warn anyone before they touch, just to spite the adversity you were faced with was his truest pleasure. Your fortitude; that was what he truly admired about you.

B = Body (what is their favorite part of your body?)

You’d think it’s your eyes, being the windows to the soul and all. But you’d be wrong; it’s your hands. Specifically, your tender touch. It’s gentle, warm, and safe. Being able to hold your hand feels intimate for him, and he actually enjoys when you tap his arm to get his attention, then let your hand linger when he gives it. It’s like a reward and a comfort all in one.

C = Cuddling (how do they like to cuddle?)

He does enjoy a good cuddle, but hugging you from behind might be his favorite. Whether sitting together on the couch with you on his lap or spooning you in bed, he likes when he can nuzzle the side of your head or rest his chin on your shoulder.

D = Dates (what does their ideal date with you look like?)

He will have planned this to a T because he’s not much for spontaneity. And it would involve a walk together, flowers, and he will either have made you a dessert or the two of you will make something together. It’s something quiet and intimate for you to enjoy time together, talking about anything and nothing while the date is riddled with affectionate touches and some kisses.

E = Emotions (how do they express emotion around you?)

Good grief, this man’s emotions are… complicated. He’s very logical, but he’s not ignorant to his emotions. It doesn’t seem like it, but he frequently tempers them, only to bring them up again in full when he records his diary so that he’s able to manage them.

But you have ruined him. His carefully kept emotional balance has been thrown to the wind. You make him feel intensely and strongly, to the point it almost trumps his logic, which makes him uncomfortable. His diaries have been getting longer as his inner turmoil increases, and that’s all your fault. It’s something you notice, too, watching his even temperament waver more and more frequently around you as the emotion inside him wars with his rationality. You will have to give this man time. Time to open up and be honest with himself, and you, about his emotions. Be prepared to validate his emotions in his moments of weakness. It’s the only way he’ll get better about honestly expressing them to you.

F = Family (do they want one? If they do, when?)

He wouldn’t be opposed to staying childless. He also wouldn’t be opposed to having a child, and you could probably talk him into two if the first goes well. Little humans would be fascinating studies, after all. (“Dear, do not psycho-analyze the children.”)

G = Gifts (how do they feel about gift giving? What are their habits when it comes to this?)

He does not care for trinkets. Nor does he care about giving you them. Gifts should be practical.

At least… that’s what he likes to think. His one exception to this is when he gives you something to wear. It’s his way of marking you and wearing it will spark a possessive streak in him.

H = Holding Hands (when/how do they like to hold hands?)

He likes—no, needs to be either touching or holding your hand in quiet, private moments. And he wants to hold your hand when he’s jealous. Especially when he’s jealous. And you know when he is because he holds tight as though reminding you that you’re his while also sending passive-aggressive signals to the cause of his jealousy. When you’re just out walking, he will sometimes hold your hand, but he also likes when you loop your hands over his elbow and he can escort you like a proper gentleman. (It also causes you to pull yourself in close to him, so he actually quite enjoys when you do that.)

I = Injury (how would they act if you got hurt?)

Depends. Minor cuts or burns are treated with care and, occasionally, a kiss. Get into an accident, and he gets shockingly worried about you. However, if you end up hurt because of a reason to do with NXX, he’ll be sick with emotions. Guilt, fear, anger; all of them brew for a deadly concoction. He will not rest, even to the point of abusing his own body, until he finds the person who hurt you and sees to it they are paying dearly for their crime.

J = Jokes (do they like to joke around with or prank you? how?)

He doesn’t always joke around, but when he does… this man is a wicked tease. Don’t expect to get off the hook easily. You better learn how to tease back, or he’ll use words and puzzles to twist you exactly where he wants you, which normally is you as a blushing, stuttering mess.

K = Kisses (how do they like to kiss you?)

Sweet kisses off-the-cuff are quite nice, and so are the passionate ones, but the ones he likes best are the slow, lingering ones that take place hidden away in your own world. They convey so much with no words. There’s no frantic holding or clinginess. Rather, it feels like a moment of security, coming together and staying. He likes the comfort they provide him and the way they actually settle his heart.

L = Love Confession (how do they confess?)

He actually was super nervous to confess. He’ll have practiced and planned this confession before it happens. Which you never would have guessed because it was in such a smooth conversation during one of your outings that he admitted he held feelings of a romantic nature for you.

M = Marriage (What does the wedding look like?)

He wants it small, intimate, and preferably outdoors in a garden. He wants it nice but not overly fancy. He won’t fuss over the smaller details. Besides, he doesn’t realize it yet, but he will barely remember anything beyond how utterly stunning you look in your wedding dress, anyway.

N = Nightmare (what is their worst fear?)

He hates being a failure, but if he’s everput in a position where he fails you, he will never forgive himself.

O = Oddity (what is one quirk they have?)

This man has literal decks of cards of only one kind of card. You want a 52 card deck with all ace of hearts? He has that. Ten of spades? He has that too. Four of clubs? Yup. You don’t know why he has them, and he won’t tell you, but you think it’s literally just because he’s highly amused the way you wrack your brain over it.

P = Pet Names (what do they like to call you?)

He’s classic. Love, Dear, Darling, Sweetheart. But he’s half-German (At least, that is my best speculation considering he was called “Vilhelm” and is canonly mixed-race), so “Liebling” is also an endearment he calls you, and my guess is he saves that one strictly for the sweetest, most tender moments you share.

Q = Quality Time (how do they like to spend time with you?)

Calm setting, electronics put away, and preferably some form of physical contact with you. This could be working together in the garden, side by side, or going out to walk around town together, but those are not his favorite. Baking with you is one of his top ones, though. Expect him to tap some sort of batter or frosting on your nose. His other favorite is lounging together on the couch, your back leaning against his chest, and just talking. Communication is important to any relationship, and he finds it a joy to communicate with you.

R = Romance (how do they show their love and affection?)

He’s the kind that shows his affection by giving you his time and attention. He’ll show it in the little touches exchanged back and forth and in the way he’s attentive to your well-being, particularly your mental well-being.

He’ll also show he loves you by playing mind games on you until you’re a blushy, stuttering mess. He’s usually forgiven with a kiss and “I love you”. You know you’re too soft on him, but whattcha gonna do?

S = Secrets (how open are they with you?)

He is an onion you have to peel back layer by layer to get to open up to you. And like an onion, there’s likely going to be some tears shed as you do that. Time will determine how many secrets he’s willing to share with you, and it’s likely going to take years for him to fully open up to you. But keep at it. You will be rewarded with his innermost thoughts and feelings and the discovery of how insecure this seemingly unflappable man is.

T = Time (how long did it take you to get together?)

This man doesn’t believe in love at first sight, but falling hard and fast for you? That he did. One of his biggest hurdles he had to get over was logically evaluating his feelings and what he thought your feelings for him were as well as coming to terms with the way he’s been treated in past relationships (And not just romantic ones. He has an… interesting way of creating carefully crafted ties to people.) So it might take a little time for him to get comfortable enough to ask you out. And throughout the relationship, he’ll probably still be working with his past demons, so be prepared for that.

U = Upset (how do they act when you’re upset?)

He’ll comfort you the best way he can if you’re a sad upset. A mad upset, and he’ll probably give you a little space to work yourself out while offering his guidance. And upset at him? This is where a good chunk of your arguments happen, to be honest. So then you both have to calm down before coming together again and talking it out. But you always do and are stronger for it.

V = Vaunt (what are they proud of? Do they like to show you off?)

He’ll never admit it, but he loveswhen he can leave you impressed. It thrills him if he can show off a trick or his general intelligence and have you praise him for it. Occasionally, he’ll search for ways to impress you just because he wants that attention. But never will he admit it.

W = Warrior (how do they feel about you fighting? Would they fight for you, beside you, etc?)

Well…he’s all okay with fighting as long as it’s not physical fighting. If you’re going to verbally spar with someone, he’s more than happy to let you go, and he takes pride in the fact you usually wipe the floor with your opponent. But the moment it’s going to turn into a physical altercation, he’s your shield. Part of him thinks that in times he is unfortunately not around, it might be good to have some self-defense under your belt, but at the same time, he’d rather you just flee instead of fight. Because he knows you well enough that if you had the ability, you’d probably knock someone’s lights out if they came at you.

X = X-Ray (how well are they able to read you?)

He’s a psychologist; he can already read you well. But on top of that, you are his favorite study, and he will catalogue everything he learns about you away to pull out for future reference. So while he already reads you well early on into your relationship, give it a few years and you have basically no secrets from this man.

Y = Yes (how would they propose to you?)

He will never forget the “surprise over romance” opinion on proposals you shared with him. So, determined to give you the best, he sets up an elaborate puzzle for you, getting all the important people in your life to get in on it. Together, the two of you will trapeze the town hunting down little clues—in places, that you only realize later, hold significance to both of you—before he’ll “conveniently” take his leave so you can finish out the last leg, which ultimately ends up leading you to his office, the place you first met. And there he is, sitting behind a house of cards sits made solely from the Ace of Hearts with a ring in the middle of the top tier which was made from two different cards: the king and queen. Only once you realize that and he revels in your joy and tears will he properly get on one knee and ask you to marry him.

Z = Zen (what makes them feel calm?)

When everything is “right” in his world. His patients are doing well, he’s got no massive cases on his plate, nothing requires his immediate attention, and you are close by, doing well in your own right.

[huffle-dork]

Curiosity Killed the Cat: Chapter 10

What Swallows the Light 

Chapter 9: [x] Read from the beginning: [x]

(AN: IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG I HATE THAT WRITING IS SO HARD FOR ME RN AHHH I LOVE Y’ALL THANKS FOR STICKING WITH THIS- THE END IS NEAR!! LIkE MAYBE 3-4 MORE CHAPTERS!! EEEEE!!) 

The boys regrouped at Chase’s studio- exhausted and spent but determined to look for Marvin using any means necessary. Well… most of them.

Jackie was desperate- desperate to do anything but resort to Jameson’s suggestion… he was not ready to face Phantom again.

His limbs still ached from the abuse he suffered at the hand of the mad conman. But, he wasn’t scared. Superheroes don’t get scared.

Chase groaned loudly and flopped his weight onto the back of the couch. “Jackie, c’monnn! We’re getting nowhere with all this!” He gestures to the collection of trackers and electronic devices Jackie’s collected- all beeping or malfunctioning. “Marvin knows you too well man! He’s probably using some freaky magic shit to block himself!”

Jackie grumbled and refused to acknowledge Chase, stubbornly tapping on the tablet he was trying to program. When it refuses to work, he suddenly yells in frustration and throws the thing hard against the wall. It cracks through the surface- the screen shattered and sparking. The hero then grips his hair and suppresses an even louder yell.

Schneep and Jameson exchange worried looks with each other. The doctor tries to speak up,” Jackie-”

“Shut up! I know!” The hero hisses through clenched teeth. “I know this isn’t working! But there has to be something! Something we’re missing.. Something that doesn’t involve-!” He seems to choke slightly, swallowing thickly.

A static laced laugh breaks the tense silence as Anti- who’s splayed across one of the couches like a lazy cat- finally speaks. “Woowww Spandex- it’s so rare to see you so scared shitless-”

Jackie turns to shout at the glitch, his eyes burning with blue power. “Shut the fuck up, you lazy bitch! I ain’t scared-”

“Righttt and the refusal to just- go do the easy thing and see the guy who might actually have the answers to whiskers’ problem is…? What? A super secret strategy of yours? Stubbornness? Stupidity? You are good at that last one-”

Chase has to grab Jackie and hold him back as the hero almost throws himself at the glitch to strangle him. Anti laughs madly, the air around him fizzling with glitches and static.

“Someone’s gotta length your fuse big guy! Hate to see what’ll happen when you finally explode~” Anti’s eyes darken to pits. “Then again… maybe it’ll be fun to watch~!”

“Anti for the love of god- stop antagonizing him!” Jameson huffs in exasperation, making sure his speech slide appears in right in front of Anti’s face so he can’t ignore it. Anti simply laughs and pushes it away- but luckily he doesn’t push the hero anymore.

The others look to Jackie with sympathetic faces. The hero shoves Chase off him with his elbow before looking away, clearly conflicted.

Schneep coughs then carefully walks up to Jackie, using his quiet bedside manner voice, “Jackie… we all know you are… hesitant. About seeing Phantom again. But we also cannot waste our time… we do not know what Marvin could be doing to Jack right of now.” Jackie cringes slightly at this, anxiously starting to pick at the skin beneath his gloves. Schneep looks to his brother with kind and worried eyes. He steps closer and gently places a hand on his then whispers to him low. “It is okay to be scared, you know.” The doctor’s eyes shift to the lounging glitch and Jackie can see the spark of fear in his eyes. “We all understand… but- you cannot let your fears keep you from moving forward, yes?” He squeezes the older brother’s hand tighter, “We all need to work together to stop this… you will not face this alone. And we do not think lesser of you for it.”

Jackie is quiet for a beat- but slowly he nods. He meets Schneep’s eyes and smiles softly. “Thanks Hen…”

Then he sighs and squares his chest before addressing the rest of the room.

“Alright… time to go pay Phantom a visit.” 

The door to the tackily clad Phantom’s emporium opened effortlessly with a little bell. The egos all walk in-and are greeted with a dark and abandoned shop. 

“It’s awful dark in here…” Jameson comments, his speech slide adding a small burst of light. 

Chase squints and whistles under his breath, “Yeah- jesus… you’d think the guy could afford more lights in this creepy-as-fuck shop-”

He then shouts and suddenly falls to the floor.

There’s the sound of glitchy laughter from Jameson’s phone while Schneep digs out his and turns on the flashlight.

“Mein gott Chase- are you okay?”

There’s a groan as Chase pushes himself up and rubs at his head,” Y-Yeah- Yeah I’m okay- I  just stepped on something-”

Suddenly there’s the sound of muffled yelling that has all the boys turning to look at the floor. “N-No way…” Jackie gasps as he goes to inspect the object, then he brings it up for the other boys to see. It’s one of phantom’s crystal orbs- only it’s occupied by the con artist himself and his brother, Mare. Mare is kneeling, one hand knocking against the glass while the other cradles a pale and spent looking Phantom.

Schneep’s eyes widen, “wh- how… how did this happen?” He whispers in disbelief. Jameson is covering up his mouth. Chase is massaging his calf before he looks up and yells, “Woah!” 

Mare inside the orb scowls and knocks against the glass again. There’s a large crack on its side- like it might have been smashed against a corner of something. “Would you stop gawking and help us?!”

Jackie’s face falls slightly. Even if these guys were villains… this wasn’t right. So he nods and goes to try to smash the orb on the ground.

But quickly, Schneep yelps and goes to stop Jackie. “Wait!”

Jackie blinks in confusion and Schneep breathes before whispering to his brother, “Let’s… let's think this through, Jackieboy- if we free them now… we might not get the information we need.”

The doctor raises an eyebrow at Jackie and it slowly dawns on the hero. Jackie hisses back low to Henrik, “You want us to use their imprisonment to get info on Marvin?” His eyes glow slightly, “That’s not right, Schneep!”

Schneep pushes back against Jackie and whispers back, “If we do not- they will just poof away and will not get the info we need to save Marvin! Do you want to help him or not?!”

Jackie’s mouth opens and closes before he scowls and looks away. Schneep tries to hide a triumphant smirk. He then takes the orb from Jackie’s palm and holds it out before announcing, “We will release you… but only if you swear to tell us everything you know about what is happening to Marvin. If you do not and try to escape… we will treat you as the criminals you are and take the actions necessary to put you both back in jail.” Mare rolled his eyes, “Yeah yeah, stiff- whatever! Just get us out of here! My brother is fucking dying!”

Jackie and Schneep make eye contact before the doctor gives the okay. Jackie readies to smash the orb on the floor-But Jamie quickly stops him. He then signs, “Perhaps I can offer some assistance?”

The hero looks confused but he offers the ball to Jameson regardless. The gentleman smiles in appreciation then holds both his hands over the glass. He closes his eyes and focuses- teal light travels up the glass and coats the orb. Then, a flash of teal light rockets across to the empty space in the room and from the light forms Mare and Phantom in the same position they were in inside the orb.

Chase whistles, “Nice work J! ...now we won’t have to step on broken glass!”

Mare takes in a deep breath and looks over his extremely pale brother, who is breathing heavily and can barely keep open his dull eyes. He then shoots up to his feet and tries to make it to the back rooms of the shop.

Jackie beats him though and holds out his arms to stop him, his eyes flaring blue. “Where do you think you’re going?”

The dark ego bares his teeth ferally and pushes into Jackie’s face. “Out of my fucking way. Hero! You might not care but we were in there for a week! And those orbs absorb magic- it’s been sucking my brother dry for days! So- if you’ll excuse me I’m gonna get him something to make sure he’s alive for your fucking interrogation- is that okay with you?!”

The red hooded hero stands speechless and just steps aside, letting his arms fall as he nods. Mare doesn’t waste a second to rush past him.

There’s the sound of rustling and glass bottles hitting the floor before NateMare rushes back out and skids on his knees to be back by Phantom’s side. He cradles the other figment’s head and gently lowers a bright red glowing potion to his lips. The second the liquid meets his lips, Phantom’s eyes shoot open and glow red as he gasps. His back arches and he almost seems like he’s in pain but Mare just holds on tighter and dumps the rest of the potion into his mouth.

“I know…” He whispers, “Just- hold on, okay Phan? This will help, I promise…”

The other egos watch with bated breath.

Eventually the last drop falls into Phantom’s mouth and Mare takes the bottle away. Phantom pants like a man dehydrated finally offered a drink. His eyes burn red and for a second it seems like nothing happened. Then, the red blooms on his skin- in his veins, and travels across his body. The demon shudders and grits his teeth but as the magic flows, his pallor returning to normal. Finally, he sags in Mare’s grip and starts to breathe at a more regular pace. He weakly smiles up to his brother. They don’t exchange words, just simple nods but… it seems like Phantom was trying to say thank you. Phantom then turns and seems to remember they have company. He sighs and groans as he pushes himself up. He’s a bit unsteady but soon he’s standing tall again. He opens up his palm and from the ground, his staff comes rushing out and into his grip. He spins it then slams it to the ground to lean on. He eyes the company of Septic egos as he pushes back his hair.

“Forgive my… haggard appearance. Your brother… managed to do quite a number on me.”

“So, you know what happened to him? He was here?” Jackie asks eagerly. Phantom raises a hand to silence him.

“I will answer all your questions… but only if you let Mare go to rest. He does not have any answers for you and... He hasn’t been able to eat or drink since we were imprisoned… I did what I could but.. I survive on magic. He does not.”

The egos look at each other before nodding in understanding. Phantom nods to his brother, “Go. I’ll check up on you later.”

Mare seems hesitant to leave- but after a stern look from his brother he purses his lips but retreats to the back rooms regardless.

Jackie quickly pipes back up as soon as the curtains close behind him, “So- Marvin? He was here?”

Phantom nods, “Yes, he was here. He was the one who trapped us.” He then looks to Jackie and raises an eyebrow, “Said the act was… what you would call Justice.” He then shrugs and sighs, going to fall against one of the armchairs in the room. “Which I guess is fair-”

The hero’s gaze hardens as he hisses, “He doesn’t speak for me. I wouldn’t have done something like that.”

The red demon raises his head in slight surprise, then he smirks, “Oh~ I sense a bit of in-fighting?”

The air in the room gets tense as all the egos shuffle and cough. “Uh.. you could definitely say that-” Chase mutters.

Phantom hums and goes to lean forward in his chair, tapping his fingers against his orb. “...I already had my suspicions… and since you all are here for answers… why don’t you fill me in on what mischief my darling little apprentice has gotten himself into?”

“Don’t call him that-” A speech slide darts in front of Phantom’s vision followed by a serious looking Jameson. He frowns and pops up another slide once he’s gotten Phantom’s attention, “He is not yours. Not anymore.”

The demon blinks then chuckles and shakes his head, “I suppose you’re right, Jackson.”

Suddenly, the air turns electric as a groan of annoyance sounds from Jameson’s phone. Glitches fly out of his pocket and soon Anti’s fizzly form splays across one of the couches as he throws out his limbs in exasperation. “Jesus christ yall can blabber! Can we get on with this already?! Or need I remind you kitten whiskers literally has all our lives on the line?!”

Phantom jumps and somewhat curls up in his chair, trying to hide the fear in his eyes. “...w...what is he doing here?”

Anti blinks then grins wolfishly at Phantom, “Well hello to you too pretty boy- still not over our last encounter I see?” He laughs madly.

Jackie sighs then points to Anti with his thumb, “He’s the start of this whole thing. Plus… Marvin is targeting him.”

This peaks the con-man’s interest. He knits his eyebrows together and gathers his composure, leaning all his weight on his staff and linking his fingers. “...Enlighten me.”

The Septic egos then take their time to explain everything: Anti’s kidnapping of Marvin. The state of Jack. Marvin’s memory loss- his behavior after being rescued. How all that changed suddenly. His manipulation of Jameson. The book- the nighttime encounter in Jackie’s apartment. Jackie and Marvin’s fight. The criminals he killed. The veins and purple magic and eyes- the smoke that seemed to coat everything black. The hospital… how Marvin took Jack. Phantom listens intently. After they’re done he sighs and brushes back in his hair, looking towards the bookshelf behind him. “..it’s as I feared.”

He looks over the boys then stands up to address them, “... this time I am not the source of Marvin’s problem. In fact… I fear the problem may have sprouted from inside him.”

“What?” Henrik asks, “What does that mean?”

“Yeah- this… this doesn’t seem like Marvin’s magic at all! He.. he’s good! That’s how Jack made him- so how could this come from him?” Jackie shouts, looking angry.

Phantom holds up a hand to silence them. “I’m not saying this just happened randomly… but you must know this. Magic deals in absolutes.”

He then holds his hand over his orb and starts to dance his fingers in the air over it. White light comes from the orb and starts to dance in the air.

“In our world- Light magic is the prominent force. All magic stems from it. Because typically, magic is used to help or heal. Like… superpowers. They are a form of light magic. When magic first began… it was only used for good. However, humanity is selfish. And with selfishness comes the other side of magic… dark magic… black magic. Black magic is an invader- it was not made to exist here. But- through selfish desires and evil intentions it entered into our world. And… black magic is not like the light. It is constantly hungry- because it knows it does not belong here. It seeks to devour all sources of light and life. Even it’s users… it either devours them whole- or uses them to draw more people into darkness.”

Anti rolls his eyes, “Alright Merlin, thanks for the magic lesson. What’s all this bullshit gotta do with this?”

Phantom huffs and grips his staff, “I’m getting to that. But since you so kindly interrupted me, I’ll be blunt with you.” He points his staff at Anti. “You, glitch, are the catalyst for Marvin’s transformation.”

The glitch sputters, his form buzzing with static as he sits up, “What the fuck?! How is this my fault- I didn’t do anything to whisker’s magic! I’m not even magic myself!”

Phantom laughs and shakes his head, “All figments are filled with some form of magic. Or we wouldn’t exist.

But that’s besides the point for now. Remind me again, Anti, what is it you had Marvin do while in your capture?”

All the egos turn cold eyes on Anti. The glitch almost looks guilty as he crosses his arms and looks away from his audience. “I… forced him to put Jack to sleep.” Then he shakes his head and throws out his hands, “But that’s it! I didn’t touch him- I didn’t possess him or corrupt him or anything!”

Phantom nods and floats fingers through the white light still floating in the air. “Perhaps you didn’t… but you provided the spark.”

He opens his arms to the light, “Pretend if you will- this is Marvin’s core. His center of magic- his soul. Jackie mentioned earlier- your creator made Marvin to be good. So- that’s what his core is. A source of light magic.”

He then snaps and a pure black flame ignites on his fingertip. “Now- if I add a spark of black magic…” He lowers the black flame into the white light.

The light almost instantly begins to be eaten by the black. The black spears through the light like a hungry predator until all that’s left floating in the air in a bubble of black, sparking with purple power.

The septics watch with horror.

“...that’s... what's happening to Marvin?” Chase asks in a small voice.

“...it is a slower process but yes.” Phantom nods. He leans back into his chair and snaps the magic out of the air.

“Since Marvin’s core is good, any type of spell that goes against his nature could possibly change his entire magical alignment. What most likely happened is… whatever spell he used on Jack was enough to spark a dark magic takeover.”

“...But- Marvin has used darker magic before.” Jameson points out, “**Like when he’s been possessed by Antisepticeye- or… his last encounter with you. How come that didn’t trigger his magic to change?” **

Phantom hums with a smile, “A good question, Jackson. While under possession, Marvin’s magic is not entirely his own. When under my control- I fueled him with my own magic. It’s like… dye in water. It can leave the water stained sure- but eventually it will return to what it was because of the constant flow. Magic is fueled by the soul- so as long as Marvin is alive, his magic refuels itself. So even if it was changed momentarily by an outside source- it should go back to what his core was.”

“...the community-” Anti suddenly mumbles. Everyone looks to him with curiosity.

“...yes, Anti?” Phantom raises an eyebrow.

The glitch scowls then turns to face the other demon. “Jack’s community. Does that count as an outside source? Because I swear that Magician’s purpose has been flip-flopping around so much because they can’t make up their goddamn minds on what side he should be on. All this magic bullshit- does it really matter when Jack and the community has so much pull on our characters?”

The air is silent while the room takes in this information. Phantom smiles and leans back. “Hm- I can’t say for certain… though me and Mare are influenced by our community as well- each figments story is different. Me and Mare were made to be evil so… there’s not much we can do to change that.”

He then points his staff at some of the septics, partially Jameson and Schneep. “However- that is why I’ve found you septics so… fascinating. Even if Jack made you one way… the fandom can change you. Like how our beloved Doctor was once considered to be on the Glitch’s side… or how Mr. Jackson seemed to be free of corruption because of the fandom’s love… until it was revealed he was a puppet all along.”

Schneep nervously rubs his neck and looks away, shuddering at the memories from that time. “...that… I..I do remember… being changed by them. Forced to be someone else… until Jack set the record straight.”

Jamie is silent, playing with his hands and looking at the ground. His wrists hidden under his sleeves- his strings out of sight. Phantom smiles to himself, “That’s why I’ve always been so fascinated by my Magnificent… he’s so easily swayed. His alignment is so back and forth. He could be anything. He could become anyone.” 

“Okay so- why isn’t this they’re fault, magic man?” Anti suddenly sneers, “Why isn’t this debacle their fault?! They almost have as much power as Jack does! Why aren’t they responsible?”

Phantom scratches his chin and taps his specter thoughtfully, “...I don’t think we can rule out their influence entirely. But… Marvin hasn’t been the star of the show for a quite a long time, yes? So… a change this sudden could only be explained by new lore from Jack. and… since he’s asleep.” The demon looks pointedly at Anti and raises an eyebrow. Anti grumbles and folds his arms again, sinking into the couch.

Jackie sighs and sits down, holding out his hands, “Okay so- let’s recap… because Anti made Marvin put Jack to sleep- that magic he used started to change his core. It went from light magic to black magic because black magic is a greedy bastard- so it’s changing Marvin… which is why he… he did all the things he did… right?”

The red clad demon nods, “Correct. Since the magic is an invader… one could say it’s possessing your brother. But- it won’t take much for it to grab control and change him permanently. He was already starting… what he was doing to those thugs is classic black magic. Feeding off life forces helps to fuel the black magic even faster. There’s nothing more selfish or evil than taking a life. ...Marvin’s actions might not entirely be his own- this all could be the black magic working to take over Marvin’s core faster. Especially since he did not choose to use that magic that sparked this in the first place… It’s manipulating him.”

Jackie seems to light up slightly. He smiles to himself and whispers, “...i..I knew it- I knew this couldn’t be Marvin… not really.”

“So what can we do to stop this? To save him?” Chase brings up. “We gotta stop him before this thing eats him- or Jack!”

Phantom is quiet for a second before sighing, “...that.. I do not know.”

“What?!” Jackie exclaims as he jumps to his feet, eyes burning. “You- You know all of this but you don’t know how to save him?! What the fuck?!”

The demon just raises an eyebrow, “Hero. I collect souls to survive. My core thrives off dark magic. I may know how it works… but I don’t know how to stop the process.” He then sighs and looks around. “I can give you advice though… that book. He stole it from me. It is a source of black magic itself- and it reacts to the user. It will do anything in its power to keep Marvin reliant on its spells. It will only hasten his corruption so… try to keep it away from him. Seal it away… it can’t be destroyed except by the purest of light magic.

Also- beware him collecting a large group of people. The magic inside him is going to be looking for the largest amount of souls it can corrupt. And… if he succeeds…. It will be too late. Your brother will be consumed. And they’ll be no going back.”

The air grows heavy at this news and the others exchange worried glances. The con-man watches before rising to his feet. “I’ve given you all the information I can… I would use it quickly if you want to save Marvin. Every second wasted is him getting closer to being consumed.”

The others look at each other then nod. “Alright… thank you Phantom.”

“As promised… we will not bother you and Natemare.” Schneep adds, adjusting his coat as he gets to his feet. He gestures to the others and starts to head for the door. Anti watches from the couch, seeming to be deep in thought.

Before Jackie can join the others however, Phantom lightly grabs his wrist to stop him. The hero looks back with confusion. The dark magician looks… almost bashful. He opens and closes his mouth several times before whispering out in sincerity, “... I know there is a lot at stake but… please Jackieboy… save my Magnificent.”

Jackie balks at this- then slowly his eyes start to burn with anger. He throws Phantom’s hand off him and grabs the figment by his vest and throws him against one of the pillars making up the walls.

“Are you fucking serious?! Your magnificent?! He isn’t your property asshole! After all of this- after all he’s been through you still think you get to stand here and be selfish?! To think about how you’re going to use him next?! If you so much as breathe near him again I swear to god i’ll-!”

Phantom just sits there and takes it- looking Jackie in the face. Jackie pants and growls, pushing Phantom more up against the wall when words fail him. The demon winces then opens one eye to look at Jackie.

“Are you done? Can i say my piece now?”

Jackie bares his teeth, ‘What could you possibly have to say to that? Gonna manipulate me with your fucking smoke to make me think you were in the right all this time? That you were helping him? That you ever cared for him at all as an apprentice?!”

“I DID CARE!” Phantom suddenly shouts, pushing back in Jackie’s face and blasting out enough magic to get Jackie to let go. Jackie stumbles back and narrows his eyes at Phantom as the demon dusts himself off and straightens his vest.

“...or… I do care. ...I think-” He sighs and lowers his gaze to the hero. “...I’m not like you and your family, Jackie. I wasn’t made to be good. I was made to manipulate and to steal. To trick. So… of course that was my purpose when I first took your brother in all those years ago…

However, despite my nature… i believe I developed a… soft spot for him. I… didn’t know how to interpret those feelings. I thought it was a need to fully control him- to make him mine. But… even that wasn’t enough. I couldn’t understand.”

He then sighs and picks his specter off the ground, going to twist it thoughtfully between his fingers. “But… all that time spent in that orb… enduring the same thing I made him endure… I was able to think. ...to maybe realize it was more than that need of control. That… maybe- the very small part of me that’s human… maybe that part actually cared for him. ...like how I care for Mare.”

Jackie’s hard expression softens slightly, looking to Phantom in confusion. The demon doesn’t meet his eyes as he chuckles bitterly.

“...I fought it for a while but… he was different than my other cons. He was… the first one just like me. A fellow figment just...looking for a place in the world. Of course… my purpose had to be fulfilled… a creation can’t deny its reason for existing. But… for a while… I couldn’t. Not to him. Maybe that’s why it took me so many years to finally hunt him down…”

He shakes his head then ventures to his bookshelf, going to open a small ornate chest. He digs inside then pulls out a white object and holds it in his hands while turned away from Jackie, rubbing his fingers against the surface.

“You know… there’s one thing I know about light magic… why you heroes and goody-two-shoes always best us in the end.” He laughs and turns to Jackie, handing the item to him.

It’s a blank white cat mask.

Jackie’s eyes widen as he takes it and then he looks to Phantom, who’s smiling bitterly.

“...it’s your ability to be positive. To believe in each other. To have things and memories that… keep the darkness away. ...perhaps that can help you.”

The demon looks to the ceiling almost wistfully, “I know… anything involved with me is tainted now. And… Marvin will never want anything to do with me again. I’m.. okay with that. But… maybe that mask… can remind him of when magic was good to him. When his love for magic was pure and child-like… perhaps it can save him from the dark.”

Jackie is speechless once again. He looks down at the mask and rubs his thumb against the edge. He can imagine Marvin when he first met him- when he first took off his distrustful shell and started to open up. How happy and mischievous and carefree he was. Did he actually feel that way with Phantom once?

“...you really do care about him..” Jackie pipes up quietly. Phantom smiles and shrugs.

“...I can’t say for sure. But… i do hope you save him. Really…” He sighs and looks back to Jackie seriously, “If he survives… I will leave him be. I will not hunt him down again… I will consider all his debts paid.”

Jackie’s eyebrows raise in surprise. Then, he laughs slightly and puts the mask in his backpack. He straightens the straps and turns to go- but not before giving one last look to Phantom.

“Hey- maybe there’s a little light in you after all Phantom.”

Phantom snorts, “Don’t get mushy on me, hero. You’ll make me more sick than I already am.”

Jackie laughs and shrugs, “Fair enough. Well… thanks.”

“Just get out of here, Jackieboy- don’t waste what little time you have with pleasantries.” Phantom grumbles, going to head towards the back room. “And… good luck.”

The hero nods and grins before hurrying out of the store and back into daylight.

However, he’s quickly met with a panicking Schneep and Chase who are on him in a second.

“Jackie! Oh god- oh shit this is bad!” Chase whimpers.

“What? What happened? What’s wrong??”

Schneep meets Jackie’s eyes, his own filled with fear.

“...Anti has disappeared. And he took Jameson with him.”

“...son of a bitch-?!”

[pressedinthepages]

Crave

next fill for @witcher-rarepair-summer-bingo

also big thanks to @major-trouble for beta-ing and @sometimesiwrite and @lookoutrogue for pointing me in the right direction and helping me along <3

(shhhhh @continentcakeshop i know its like the second one in as many days but its fineeeeeeee)

Prompt: Incubus/Succubus

Relationship: Eskel/Jaskier

Rating: Explicit

Content Warnings: modern au, bookshop au, Jaskier is an incubus, magical genitalia, intersex Jaskier, masturbation, oral sex (f receiving), m/m penetrative sex

Summary: Eskel runs into Jaskier and helps him with his 'research,' leading them closer and closer together.

The little bell over the door tinkled and Eskel peeked up from where he was emptying his stock cart. He couldn’t see who walked in, only the faintest glimpse of a lavender shirt disappearing around a corner, down into an aisle. Eskel shelved the last few novels before returning to the counter, sneaking his book out from its hiding spot and flipping to his bookmark. He didn’t even hear the approaching footsteps, engrossed as he was. But a soft clearing of the throat caught his attention and he startled up, his breath catching at the sight of the man before him.

The young man had on a soft-looking lavender jumper and his hair fell in chestnut waves over his forehead. His eyes were the clearest cornflower blue, and he sported just the barest beginnings of smiley wrinkles. His mouth moved in pretty pink words that tasted like spice drops on Eskel’s tongue, and-

Oh shit.

He asked me a question.

Eskel cleared his throat and blinked, shaking the blush off his cheeks. “S-sorry, what did you say?”

The man smiled, blinding white and cheeky. “No worries, I do talk a bit fast. I asked if you had any books on mythology, specifically succubi?”

Oh, and if that didn’t conjure up some ideas in the dark edges of Eskel’s brain. He prided himself on being a gentleman, but he’d be lying if he said that the very basest part of his mind didn’t imagine the young man laid out beneath him, his honey-laced voice crying his name while lust poured from their very pores.

Eskel glanced around the empty storefront as he walked around the counter, crooking his finger to the man to follow him. “Don’t have much, at least here in the store. But I’ve got one or two.”

“Lovely,” the man said with a smirk, and Eskel could’ve sworn he felt the tracks of his eyes down the line of his back and over the swell of his ass as they went to the last aisle of fiction. He bent down and pulled out two books.

“Here, this one’s not too dense, and is good for the basics. But…” he trailed off and looked over his shoulder, catching the man’s eyes glance back up to him, “this one is good for more in-depth research, without gettin’ too murky.”

Eskel watched the bob of the man’s throat as he swallowed thickly, taking the books from his hands. “Sold. Thank you, Eskel.”

Eskel blinked and racked his brain. I swear I don’t know him, I’d remember his face, his eyes, his voice, his bum-

The man chuckled lightly, “Your nametag. Must say, I was cheating a bit. Call me Jaskier.”

Eskel’s cheeks pulled up into an easy smile. The next words fell from his lips almost too easily, forgetting himself and his scars on and under his skin and who he even was under Jaskier’s intense gaze. “Well, just when might I call you, Jaskier?”

Jaskier (thank fuck) blushed and bit his bottom lip with a grin that set Eskel’s already pounding heart alight. They walked slowly back towards the front of the bookstore to the register. “Well, I should think I’ll come back ‘round soon to see if you...get anything new in stock?”

Eskel nodded as he stepped behind the counter, taking the two books back and scanning their black and white barcodes. He discreetly threw on his brother’s phone number for a discount and slid the books across to Jaskier. “I’m sure we’ll find something.”

“Oh,” said Jaskier as he handed over his cash and his fingers just barely glanced over Eskel’s, sending sparks beneath his skin, “I think we already have.”

---

“Back already?” It was the next day, just shy of when Eskel was going to lock up for a quick lunch. Jaskier had blown in through the door with a bright smile on his face, and Eskel would’ve been lying if he said that his heart hadn’t skipped a beat when he recognized him.

Jaskier nodded and leaned his elbows on the edge of the counter. “Mhm. I read both of those books last night, they were fantastic. But I was wondering if you could maybe help me order one or two more? If you have time, that is?”

“Of course,” Eskel said, gesturing to Jaskier to walk around the edge of the counter and join him at the monitor. “Here, we can look through what we carry and can order.”

They scrolled through the website for what was available, narrowing and adjusting their search parameters for a while before finding some interesting titles. “Oooh,” murmured Jaskier, bumping lightly into Eskel’s arm and pointing at one of the books on the screen, “that one looks helpful.”

It was a leather bound tome entitled ‘Succubi and Incubi in the Modern World,’ by one J. A. Pankratz. It seemed almost a little too perfect for what Jaskier had been looking for, and Eskel hoped that by ordering this one book, he wouldn’t have been driving Jaskier from coming back into his store. He added two copies to the cart and placed the order. He’d save one for Jaskier, and he would take one home for himself. Looks pretty interesting.

---

The books had arrived early in the morning, and Eskel called Jaskier to let him know that he could pop in and pick it up at his convenience. Jaskier had stopped by in the evening, thanking him endlessly before swooping away as Eskel locked up.

Eskel briskly walked home with the leather-bound book weighing heavily in his pack, tempting him to just break it open with every step down the sidewalk. As soon as he got into his flat, he tossed the keys to the side and toed off his boots, making a beeline for his dresser. He changed out of his smart button-down and jeans and into a comfy jumper and a pair of dark sweatpants.

He put on the kettle and unpacked his bag, throwing the empty tupperware from his lunch into the sink and setting the book onto the side table by his armchair. Yes, the bookseller had a reading nook. Don’t judge. He pulled the kettle off just before it started to whistle and made his cup of tea, leaving it to steep for a moment while he washed the few dishes that had found their way into the sink.

Puttering over to his cushy chair with tea in hand, Eskel sighed. He sat down and nestled himself into a comfortable spot, one foot tucked under him and his elbow resting on the velvety arm of the chair. Air whistled through the notch in his lip when he lightly blew the curls of steam away from his mug before taking a sip, letting the warm tea drag down his throat and settle in his stomach.

He set his mug down atop a coaster and ran his hand slowly along the strikingly plain cover of the novel. It was a deep mahogany leather bound tome with golden embossed lettering, and it even boasted a little light blue ribbon to keep his page. The spine crackled as he tipped open the cover, revealing thick ivory paper with deckled edges. Eskel took his time in feeling the book in his hands, running his thumbs down the rough edges of the paper and along the lettering of the title page.

J. A. Pankratz. The name jumped out at him, almost as if it were peering up at him from the page. Waiting. For what? Eskel shook his head with a heavy sigh. It had been a long day, and now his imagination was running rampant before even starting the book. He smiled to himself as he pictured Jaskier, tucked away and cozy, cracking open his own copy of the book and seeking the knowledge that he had been chasing.

There was no introduction, no prelude into the lore that lurked in the supple pages. Only a simple table of contents, and publication information. Nothing odd that caught Eskel’s eyes, but his fingers felt beckoned to the page of chapter one. Myths and Reality.

Eskel felt submerged in the writing, enveloped in the dense weave of storytelling that swam into the forefront of his mind. Contrary to the myths of old, creatures of lust no longer require feeding from the unquenchable arousal of others. They live and breathe as humans, though you will find several marked differences. Their magic, though subtle, is a powerful compulsion, breaking through inhibitions to access the cravings that lay beneath the surface…

Now, Eskel boasted an ability to read and retain at breakneck speeds. He could finish a full-length novel in a night and be able to explain the plot and key details with surprising clarity. But his eyes glazed over as he darted around words and theories, letting them almost bleed into his brain as his fingers flipped the pages by. His tea sat forgotten: he read as though searching to sate a deep thirst in his belly.

The air around him grew warm as the moon rose higher and higher, and Eskel felt a welcome flush crawl its way up his chest and around his throat. His cock stirred between his legs, filling slowly while his mind swam in a hazy bliss. The words on the pages blurred together, though Eskel tried valiantly to bring his focus back to the book in his hand.

Though not for much longer. With a gentle sigh he slipped the light blue ribbon (almost exactly that odd shade of blue that was locked away in Jaskier’s eyes…) in between the pages and set the book back down on the table. Eskel dropped the heel of his palm down to drag up the base of his cock. His breath hitched and he dropped his head back, squeezing himself lightly through the soft cotton of his pants. Fuck, when did he get so hard?

The elastic band was pushed out of the way, only halfway down his thighs, just enough to let Eskel wrap his hand around his cock. He was already dripping precome, slicking his hand with every swirl around the head. His mind filled in hazy edges and wandering bubbles of arousal with Jaskier, that soft smirk and wavy brown hair and broad shoulders and a tongue that seemed like it could cut glass.

Eskel adjusted his legs, planting his feet down on the floor and spreading his thighs open, swallowing thickly as another bead of arousal dripped down the length of him. His other hand wandered up to his chest where he almost absentmindedly ran his fingers over his tender nipple just as he had thumbed along the rough edges of the pages in the book, scratching through the rough pull of the fabric of his jumper. His back arched and his hips chased a building pace, his climax building from the base of his spine.

His mind helpfully supplied an image of Jaskier, kneeling on the floor between his knees, his lips open and waiting for him. Eskel tensed as he felt himself draw closer and closer to the edge of the euphoric cliff, almost feeling the pressure of Jaskier’s hands drag up his legs. Piercing cornflower blue eyes looked up at him with burning intensity and shoved Eskel into the most intense orgasm he had given himself in a long time.

Heavy gasps tore into drawn-out sighs, his jaw clenched as his muscles tensed and rippled beneath his skin. His vision whited out and his ears rang with deafening silence, drowning him in oblivion that he couldn’t have torn himself out of if he had tried. Instead, the world came back to him slowly, waves of a tide depositing the whir of his ceiling fan, the ethereal echo of the moon’s light on the hardwood floors.

Eskel slowly blinked open his eyes, taking long, heavy breaths and smiling headily. He glanced down, finding long white ropes of his spend draping down the collar of his jumper to where he still held his cock gently in his palm. He stroked himself once more, slowly, dragging the last beads of his spend off of himself. He didn’t think twice before bringing his fingers to his lips, tasting the salty bitterness of his climax on his tongue.

Eskel sighed once more as he felt the world push in on the comfortable quiet of his mind, prodding his eyelids to grow heavy and his bed to beckon him from behind the cracked door of his room. He tucked himself away and pushed himself out of the cushy chair, dragging his feet towards his washing machine. He shucked his soiled jumper off into the empty drum and set it to do an extra pre-rinse.

He flipped the lights off and toed open the door to his room, gracelessly flopping onto the bed and shuffling under the blankets. Eskel curled up around himself, feeling warm and fuzzy, though maybe...maybe a little empty? He sighed and hugged his arms against his chest, wishing to all hopes that he wasn’t actually alone as the sweet embrace of sleep overtook him.

---

An entire week passed before Eskel saw Jaskier again. Which he couldn’t say was odd; they had only been in the same place a handful of times, and there hadn’t been any sort of routine to it.

At least, that’s what Eskel told himself.

Another long day of needy customers and screaming children left Eskel drained, and he didn’t hesitate to close the bookstore early. He flipped the sign around to say ‘Closed’ and counted down his money, leaving it in the safe in the back for the morning.

He pushed the glass door open and spun around as it fell shut, slipping his key in and letting the cylinder fall into place. Eskel glanced around, spying a familiar cock-sure smirk on the face of a man as he strode over to him from the coffee shop across the street with a quite attractive swagger. Jaskier stopped at a careful distance, though Eskel tried to keep his face as open and friendly as possible. “Hey, Eskel.”

“Oh, Jaskier,” Eskel peeked behind him towards the shop, “did you need something from in there? I was just locking up, I’m sorry-”

“Oh, no. Well, maybe. We’ll see. But uh. That’s not why I’m here.”

Eskel crooked his head, “Okay…”

“Listen, I didn’t want to do this while you were on the clock, cause that’s icky, but uh…would you be interested in going out sometime? Grab some coffee, or lunch maybe?”

Eskel had completely blue screened. He didn’t think he’d actually get this far. Shit, how long had it been since he actually went on a date? What was he gonna wear? Where were they going?

Fuck.

Didn’t even give him an answer yet.

---

The coffee across the street was fine, but Eskel really just found himself more and more enamored with the striking young man who kept gently bumping their knees together beneath the table.

It was the easiest date that Eskel had ever found himself on. Jaskier was kind, funny, intelligent. Caring. It was the simplest thing in the world for him to invite Jaskier on a quiet walk, meandering through the city streets until they found themselves at Eskel’s stoop.

Eskel glanced down at the prettiest ethereal blue eyes he’d ever seen and smirked. “Wanna come in?”

Jaskier grinned toothily, “I thought you’d never ask.”

The keys clattered to the floor as Eskel led the way over the threshold, grabbing Jaskier by the waist and kissing him deeply. Their lips danced and Eskel could almost taste the lust that poured from his very being. They pushed and tore at hemlines and buttons, craving the release of skin hidden away. Eskel finally got Jaskier’s shirt open and threw it to the floor, running his fingers through the thick hair that was so generously dusted over his broad chest.

Eskel’s own shirt fell open by Jaskier’s fingers and he let his hands drop down to the button on Jaskier’s trousers. But a soft hand stopped him, and Eskel watched his throat bob in anticipation.

“Before we go on,” Jaskier smirked, though his eyes shone with a tinge of worry, “I…have a bit of a…situation to inform you of.”

Eskel’s mind started spinning in circles, covering different scenarios and how best to respond to them. Does he have an STD? Is he a fugitive on the run from the law? Hung up on an ex? Maybe he’s ace? Poly? Enby? Trans? Is it his first time? The list went on and on, greased gears turning rapidly in Eskel’s head. However, what Jaskier actually said hadn’t even made its way into Eskel’s mind.

“I wrote that book. About the incubi.”

Eskel blinked and glanced between Jaskier’s eyes, searching for more answers, rubbing his thumbs gently along Jaskier’s hips. “O-okay…”

“How far did you get?”

Eskel thought back to the night that he had brought the book home, and the fantasy that his mind had woven for him. “Uh...not far. I...I got distracted.”

Jaskier nodded, just the barest hint of a blush spreading like watercolors over his cheeks. “Well...when I say that I wrote the book...I wrote it from personal experience. I am actually an incubus.”

At that point, Eskel’s brain completely stopped computing. He was confused beyond belief and undeniably still horny, and the only thing that he could let slip from his lips was an eloquent, “Huh?”

Jaskier offered a none-too-sheepish smile, his eyes shimmering with unbridled attraction. But he let Eskel process, the two of them standing just inside of Eskel’s doorway, naked from the waist up.

Eskel swallowed and willed his brain cells to work, dammit. "You're a-an incubus? I thought they were-I mean, forgive my ignorance I just haven't, ah, met one... or heard of anyone else... meeting one. Recently."

Jaskier chuckled, the sound like music to Eskel’s ears. “Oh gods, you’re adorable. There’s only a handful of us left, and we don’t generally tend to advertise. Of course you thought it was just a myth. Kind of the point, love.”

Jaskier gently ran his hands up Eskel’s arms, smoothing his fingers into the generous muscle. “I want you to know, though, that I…we don’t feed off of lust. Never did. It...it was a lie, a myth. Our magic is...it’s indulgence, an amplification of lust that’s already there. So I didn’t like...hunt you down, or anything creepy. You just caught my eye, and I thought I’d see if you were interested.”

Eskel nodded, resting his forehead down onto Jaskier’s. “Gotta say, this isn’t quite how I imagined this evening goin’. But...weirder shit happens. And...I’d be lyin’ if I said that I wasn’t still ridiculously attracted to you.”

He brought his lips down and kissed Jaskier sweetly, sliding their lips together slowly and languidly, relishing in the balance of wills that they had found themselves in. Jaskier broke away first, brushing the tip of his nose over Eskel’s. “A-and one more thing-”

“Whatever it is, it’s fine.” Eskel couldn’t really help the way that his brows scrunched in disbelief, even the tiniest bit, but he didn’t want to put Jaskier off by not buying into whatever he was trying to convince him of.

“Well…” Jaskier blinked, biting his lip, “I...one of the things with my magic. I can...I can change the...parts that I have. I can kinda switch? Between a-a...you know?” He gestured vaguely to the region between his legs, and Eskel nodded, somewhat getting the picture. “And I don’t really have a preference, everything’s enjoyable...so if you do, I can just kinda…*poof*,” he smiled.

Now, Eskel really wasn’t sure if anything weirder had happened, at least that he was aware of. Did I eat something off today? Not that he could remember, but this all felt...well. Like an odd fever dream. But Jaskier felt so real in his arms, and he was looking up at him with such sincerity that he figured, ah, what the hell. I’ll humor him...or, them? Ah shite, I should ask-

“Right...so, d-do you want me to call you something else? I don’t want you to be uncomfortable, or use the wrong pronouns or-”

Jaskier smiled and reached up, ruffling Eskel’s hair and sliding the tips of his fingers down the line of his jaw. “You’re sweet. No, Jaskier is perfect, and I use he/him always. Sometimes I change the parts that I have for pleasure, but I am always Jaskier.”

Eskel squinted, still feeling like he was maybe having the wool pulled over his eyes. “Mhm. And uh-”

“Would you like a demonstration?” Jaskier smiled sweetly, still running his fingers along Eskel’s shoulders in lazy swirls. Eskel nodded and led them further into the apartment, giving Jaskier some space to strip himself of the remainder of his clothes. Eskel wasn’t quite sure what to expect, but this seemed like a lot of effort for someone to create a falsity that intricate. He stood bare before Eskel, broad chest tapering down to a soft waist and thick thighs, with a pretty cock nestled in a bed of dark hair.

Eskel sighed and ran his hand through his hair. “Y-you’re gorgeous…”

“Oh, stop it you. You’re making me blush,” Jaskier smirked, popping his hip. “Now, don’t watch too closely, or else you’ll never look at a human quite in the same way again.”

But Eskel couldn’t tear his eyes away as Jaskier’s hips lit up in a burst of buttercup-yellow sparks that dissipated with a blink of his eyes, and then there was a little slit that was just barely visible beneath the nest of dark hair, rather than what had been there only a moment prior. Eskel’s jaw fell agape, now fully in awe of the apparently magical creature that was standing naked in his living room.

“Believe me now?” Jaskier shrugged, spinning himself around to show off his pert buttocks and legs with muscles that delicately danced just beneath the surface.

Eskel swallowed, and he felt his cock throb in the tight confines of his jeans, an impatient reminder that he was, in fact, still very into Jaskier. “Uh... yeah. Yeah, I-fuck, that's incredible. I certainly don't need more convincing and I...well, um..." Eskel got a wolfish look in his eyes, "Which would you like me to start with?"

Jaskier bit his lip and nodded, stepping backwards until the backs of his knees hit the edge of Eskel’s armchair. Eskel quickly wrestled with the buttons and zipper of his pants before tearing them down his legs, shucking them off to the side before following Jaskier to his reading corner.

Jaskier sat down, sprawled bare with his cunt shining and dripping with his arousal onto the soft red cushion of the same chair that Eskel fuckin jerked himself off in. Eskel really really couldn’t decide just where he wanted to look, so he just...dropped to his knees and leveled his face with the blushed pink lips between Jaskier’s legs.

Jaskier gasped and his fingers flexed on the arms of the chair. “Usually, we’re the ones giving pleasure, but yeah sure, I’m not gonna say no…”

“C’mon,” Eskel rumbled as he rested his chin on Jaskier’s thigh, his breath fanning gently over the glistening lips between Jaskier’s legs. “You can’t expect me to see this whole package and not want to bury my face in you?”

And sure, maybe it had been a while since Eskel had found himself with his lips between someone’s thighs like that, but fuck he hadn’t realized how much he missed it. Eskel finally dragged his tongue through his slit and around the sensitive bud at the apex of his thighs, shooting pleasure up through Jaskier’s stomach and into his neck with a soft pink blush. Eskel even had a bit of stubble sprouting over his chin, and he could almost see the sweet burn that it left on the insides of his thighs. A dark moan crawled up out of Jaskier’s chest as he threaded his fingers into the soft strands of Eskel’s hair.

Eskel leaned into his touch and wrapped his lips around Jaskier’s clit and sucked lightly, running a finger down through Jaskier’s slit before slowly pushing inside. Jaskier arched into him, his head hitting the back of the chair and his legs wrapping around Eskel’s head. But there was suddenly one very demanding problem: Eskel, while he normally sported an unending well of patience, was running out. He wanted to feel Jaskier fall apart around him, to feel him everywhere. So he slid his hands up beneath Jaskier’s thighs and around his bum and pulled, resettling him on the very edge of the seat, basically sitting him on Eskel’s chin as he drank anew.

The glide of Jaskier’s hips up and down Eskel’s chin was enough to have him dripping slick onto the hardwood floor beneath him, and he felt more than heard the wet squelch of Jaskier’s tender spot inside of him as he slipped in a second finger. Jaskier keened high and started fucking himself on Eskel’s fingers in earnest, and Eskel crooked his elbow so that he could hit that angle over and over and over again.

Eskel could feel how close Jaskier was, with the fluttering and tightening of his walls around his fingers and the near constant drip of slick down his arm. He lapped and sucked at his clit with fervor, pushing him relentlessly towards the climax that loomed over them both with each wet slap up and down of his fingers.

And oh, when Jaskier finally plummeted over that cliff of euphoria? Eskel was drenched in a wave of slick that dripped down his chin and into the dark coarse hairs on his chest. Jaskier’s fingers tightened in his hair and he cried out Eskel’s name, even sweeter than anything he would’ve dared imagine. Eskel slowed his fingers and lapped gently at the tender flesh between Jaskier’s thighs, coaxing him down through the blinding pleasure that overtook him.

“Oh,” Eskel murmured, resting his forehead on the mound of soft hair over Jaskier’s still fluttering arousal, “th-that was…fuck that was amazing.”

Jaskier chuckled and loosened his grip on Eskel’s hair, gently scratching and running his fingers down Eskel’s cheek. “I wish I could’ve warned you that was coming, but uh…my brain was definitively not keeping up.”

Eskel rose to his feet, pulling Jaskier up onto shaky legs. “C’mon, little bird. Let’s get to the bed.”

Jaskier followed Eskel through an open doorway into his bedroom, and Eskel could once again feel the intense gaze of his eyes roving over his ass. “So Eskel, do you want to fuck me?” Jaskier smiled, pressing his lips softly to the rough valleys of Eskel’s scarred cheek.

Eskel blushed, running his hand back through his hair, the muscles of his arm swelling and running Jaskier’s mouth dry. “I-well. I was actually wonderin’ i-if you’d-well. If you’d fuck me.”

Jaskier‘s eyes alighted with a fire that sent a sounded thread straight through Eskel’s core. “Oh, you have no idea just how much that would be my pleasure.”

Jaskier set his hands on Eskel’s hips and pushed him gently towards the bed, tapping him lightly on the ass. “Mind if I have a snack?”

Eskel shuddered and chuckled, climbing onto his hands and knees on the bed with his bum pointed to Jaskier. “Help yourself.”

Eskel braced himself to be licked and brought to pleasure with a fervor that had matched his own, but what he got instead was a soft hand that smoothed up the back of his thigh, gently palming his cheek and spreading him before a sweet kiss was placed on the globe of his ass.

“Y-you dont have to be gentle with me-“

“I want to be gentle with you, you mountain of a man. Now, let me make you feel good.”

A warm ghost of breath slid over the small of Eskel’s back as Jaskier knelt on the bed behind him, settling his hands on Eskel’s hips and squeezing lightly.

“Oohhhh,” Eskel groaned as Jaskier flattened his tongue over his entrance, mouthing around the tight ring of muscle and kneading his fingers into the meat of his bum.

He felt himself relax into Jaskier’s touch, letting his mind drift into a pleasant haze. Jaskier’s hand snaked around his leg and wrapped around his weeping cock, slowly stroking in time with his tongue pushing into his entrance. His hips rocked back and forth into Jaskier, riding the comfortable waves of arousal as they washed over him.

“Fuck me dead, you’re delicious,” Jaskier’s voice was thick and husky, dripping like syrup. “I’m assuming you’ve got lube hidden away in here?”

Eskel laughed breathily, adjusting his shoulder to point to his bedside drawer. “Right up top.”

Jaskier patted Eskel’s behind and pushed himself up, reaching into the drawer and rummaging around. Eskel heard a cute little ‘aha!’ and the click of a plastic cap being opened.

A slick pair of fingers circled his entrance and he keened, gasping back into Jaskier’s touch. “I-in, please-“

“Alright, Eskel. You’ll tell me if it’s too much?”

Eskel nodded and Jaskier slowly pushed his finger in, thrusting lightly until he was buried to the knuckle. He poured some more lube onto his finger and let Eskel set his preferred pace, following the rocks of his hips and the heavy flexing of his cock between his legs.

Before long, Jaskier slipped in another finger, and then another, stretching Eskel open. Eskel growled and moaned and pushed hard back into Jaskier’s fingers, only just barely brushing against that sweet spot that was nestled so deep.

Eskel was sweating, his hands tangled in the sheets as pleasure built to crescendo behind his eyes, and he felt the stirrings of the point of no return hanging just out of sight. “W-wait, Jaskier. Fuck, I’m ready.”

Jaskier hummed and slipped his fingers from inside of him, leaving him gaping and empty as he patted his hip. “Flip over, Eskel. I wanna watch you fall apart.”

Eskel flipped onto his back and looked up at Jaskier, his soft skin dusted with a generous coating of dark hair, his tummy soft and leading down to-

Hnnnggggg

Instead of the pretty cunt that Eskel had buried himself in, that same equally pretty cock from earlier now jutted out from Jaskier’s hips, flushed and dripping with slick. He spoke without thinking, “Fuck I want you in my mouth.”

Jaskier giggled and ran the bottle of lube up the line of his cock, spreading it around with his hand and dropping the bottle to the side. He clambered back onto the bed between Eskel’s thighs and ran his hands up either side of his stomach reverently. “Maybe later. For now, though, I’d very much like to fuck you.”

Eskel reached up and ran his fingers into Jaskier’s hair as he felt the blunt head of his cock press against his entrance. He breathed deeply, tasting the arousal in the room on his tongue as Jaskier pushed in slowly, slotting their hips together and leaning down atop him.

“I’m not sure,” Jaskier gasped, resting his forehead on Eskel’s, “that I’ve ever felt anyone so sweet. I could die here, and would do so happily.”

“I’d rather if you didn’t,” Eskel smirked, clenching around Jaskier in an effort to get him to move.

“Gah, ca-can I m-“

“Please. Please move. Fuck me. Ruin me.”

Jaskier grinned like the cat who caught the canary, rubbing his thumbs back and forth over Eskel’s flanks as he oh so slowly slid back out of Eskel, and just as slowly slid back in. Eskel felt every slick inch of him in stark relief, his head swimming with how beautifully he was filled.

“F-faster...go on, Jask- y-you won’t break me…”

Jaskier gasped a hitched breath as his hips snapped forward accidentally, sending a shockwave of pleasure up Eskel’s spine. “Ah, fuck. O-okay. D-don’t wanna push too f...far-”

Eskel slid his hand up to cup the delicate jaw of the incubus atop him. “I’ll tell you. I promise. But I trust you. Take me.”

Jaskier’s eyes fluttered shut and he slammed his cock into Eskel, rocking back and forth with a fervor unlike anything Eskel had ever had the great pleasure to have been a part of before. Eskel could feel the crown of his head hitting the wall behind his bed with every sharp thrust of Jaskier’s hips, but he really couldn’t find it in himself to care. He just took it, not even able to form a coherent string of words together, only offering soft grunts and drawn-out moans that were swallowed by Jaskier’s lips.

Eskel’s mind swam in an impossible oblivion, every thrust of Jaskier inside of him pushing him closer and closer to an unstoppable climax. He felt Jaskier’s hands drag down beneath his thighs and lift, settling his ass on the tops of his thighs and oh holy shit right fucking there-

And then. Eskel thought that he was about to pass out when Jaskier adjusted himself to prop one of his elbows next to Eskel’s head and grabbed his cock with the other, stroking in quick jolts that matched every time he hit his prostate and-

Oh fuck he was coming. Eskel shouted in high breaths that escaped from his lungs as his body shook with wave after wave after wave of pleasure. He spent thick white ropes of seed between them, dripping through both of their chest’s hair, his fingers clenching onto any inch of Jaskier that he could reach.

And oh sweet gods above, Jaskier didn’t miss a beat, just slipped his hand off of Eskel’s oversensitive cock and fisted his hands in the sheets on either side of Eskel’s head. Eskel lazily opened his eyes as his blinding orgasm faded away and gently ran his finger down the soft, just barely stubbled line of Jaskier’s jaw. “Go on, Jask,” Eskel rumbled, watching the shudder that ran through Jaskier’s taxed nerves, “Come for me.”

Gasps of hot breath ghosted over Eskel’s face as Jaskier drove his hips deep, his eyes rolling back in his head as he spent inside of Eskel. His entire body shuddered and rippled as he came under Eskel’s hands, something shimmering just beneath the surface of his skin. Jaskier dropped his head into the crook of Eskel’s shoulder, pressing his lips softly to the tender flesh as his spend leaked past the tight seal of his cock.

They both ran their hands slowly over each other, soothing overexerted muscles and lust-hazy minds. Jaskier hummed quietly, still nestled against Eskel’s neck and laying atop him, though Eskel really couldn’t find it in himself to complain. He swallowed thickly and rolled them over, holding Jaskier tightly to him and pressing his lips to his shoulder.

“That was...really nice,” Eskel’s voice was husky and cock-drunk, and he could feel the gentle blanket of sleep falling over his eyes.

Jaskier hummed and squeezed Eskel tighter against him as his softening cock slipped from the tight embrace of Eskel’s entrance. “Truly. You’ve rendered me near speechless.”

Eskel hummed with a sleepy smile, nestling his nose into the soft brown locks of Jaskier’s hair that just barely tickled his throat. “Stay tonight?”

He felt the muscles shift beneath his hands as Jaskier twisted around and pulled the lamp cord, bathing the room in darkness before tugging his throw blanket around them. “Sleep, darling. I’ll be here when you wake.”

As he drifted into the comfortable embrace of a well-earned rest, Eskel knew that he had somehow stumbled into one of the most exceptional people that had ever walked the Earth, and that he wasn’t letting him go any time soon.

[bastillia]

Innocuous (NSFW)

Read on Ao3

Summary: You’re a medical officer aboard the Steadfast, and you’ve found yourself caring for a gravely injured Kylo Ren. He seems to require some unconventional treatment.

Rating: Extremely Explicit

Words: 7.5k

Content warnings: Somewhat graphic depictions of injury, wound/bloodplay, burnplay, oral bloodplay, oral sex (f recieving), orgasm denial/delay, choking, inappropriate use of the Force (and of a medical device oops), rough sex, extremely minimal aftercare, Kylo Ren is a nasty fucking boy, LISTEN this gets a lil dark ok, so just please consider before clicking ok tysm

A/N: I scrapped and restarted this whole thing at least twice, but we finally got there my friends. Is this over the top? Maybe. Do I have a single regret? No. Please heed the content warnings, you may have a bad day if you don’t. This is pure unadulterated filth. Enjoy!

Strips of fluorescent light ribbed the vacant hall, white beams streaking reflections across the glossy black floor like a frozen lane of hyperspace as the urgent click of your boots perturbed the calm. The corridors of the Steadfast were all but barren this time of cycle, only disturbed by the occasional patrol of noc shift troopers trudging mechanically in unison. Devoid of the usual bustle of footsteps and orders, the static hum from the ship’s walls washed the air with a bassy din of ambient noise that might be calming, were your heartbeat not adding an anxious percussion to the silence.

You really had no reason to be awake, you should have taken your sleeping aid hours ago, but the endless scroll of patient files on your datapad had kept you up just long enough to see the alarm flash. Hardly a momentary blip, but the peculiarity of it was what propelled you from your quarters and heated your step with urgency now. Medical Bay: Intake - Officer’s Ward, it had flashed, and then disappeared just as quickly.

Tapping the access pad that led to the sequestered corridor, you waited for the door to slide open and slipped through. Needles crawled up your spine as your gaze shifted around the familiar yet eerily still hallway, which was making you nervous now for absolutely no reason. Each private room should be empty, you knew you hadn’t checked any officers in for overnight care, and you could recite your inpatient registry as if it were etched into the backs of your eyelids. Droids didn’t typically throw faulty alarms -- maybe your eyes had simply deceived you after a long and fucking exhausting day of post-mission damage control in the med bay. Echoes of that exhaustion now placed a terror within each shadowed room that you passed, something that your brain was convinced would surely jump out at you.

You stopped dead as you reached the final door, half-hoping this one was your imagination. He was still. Too still. Limbs sprawling over the edges of the cot, with haphazard bandages crossing his bare torso aimlessly. They were visibly soaked through with blood, contrasting the blanched sheen of sweat-drenched skin, a black mop of hair askew over the pillow.

A violent spike of dread lanced down your spine. You darted into the room, your medical instincts hot-starting and roaring in your eardrums as you alighted upon him with gentle precision. Two fingers flashed to the pulse point at his neck, depressing the slick, hot skin there as your frantic eyes fell to the broad rise of his chest. Pulse. Breathing. Both too shallow and fast, but present, thank the stars.

You released the held breath that was starting to burn your lungs. The alarm. What had sent it? You glanced around. Monitor wires lay scattered over the floor around the metal feet of the bed, not a single one connected. A fizzling noise behind you nearly snapped your neck as you whipped around. A nurse droid lay lifeless, crumpled and sparking against the far wall.

Oh.

You turned slowly back to the unconscious Supreme Leader, fear trickling coldly down your veins in a moment of consideration. He’d wanted to be alone.

Your mind suddenly supplied you with an image of yourself in place of the droid, bones crunched like scrap metal against the wall, eyes glazed, life flickering and dying in the fried wires of your veins. How easy it would be -- effortless, even -- For him to crush the life out of you with little more than a flick of his wrist. How… maybe that knowledge made you tingle, just a little.

You derailed that train of thought with a sharp shake of your head as your eyes flicked across his battered torso and up the column of his neck, settling on the tranquility of his face. Bruised and bloody as it was, he looked… peaceful. Freckles and moles dusting his skin like starry kisses to soothe the ache of battle. His features, always chiseled from the sternest isoform of marble, now softened in sleep. Suspended in a paradoxical state of youthful serenity even as his body worked in overdrive just to tether him to life. He was… just a man. And he was absolutely beautiful.

Maybe you stared at him, just a little longer than you should, before committing to your courage and snatching an antiseptic cloth. If one of you was going to die, at least you were the more replaceable option. And this was what you’d signed up for, wasn’t it? To serve the First Order, even perhaps at the expense of your life. For… the greater good, or something. Yeah. Higher purpose and all that. You were a good medic, and good medics were selfless. It definitely wasn’t because you, perhaps, didn’t mind entertaining the thought of those large hands around your neck, squeezing...

Fucking focus.

Expertly, delicately, you began to peel back the blood-soaked evidence of his attempt to self-bandage, baring the flesh of his torso. Stars, he was magnificent. Glistening skin lay taut over lean muscle, a finely-tuned war machine sculpted by years of hard training, evident even in the depths of sleep. The subtle ripple of his muscles expanding and contracting with each breath spread that insistent tingle through your lower belly as you meticulously swiped the blood and sweat from his body.

Your hands danced to the pace of your heartbeat. Quick and steady, as you tossed the cloth and fitted a needle onto a syringe tip. A light pinch of his skin here, so that he wouldn't feel the prick of the shot there. Pure habit, not that a small needle stick would hold a candle to his injuries in terms of pain. But you didn’t really want him waking up just yet. You pushed the plunger down to administer a microdose of bacta. Just enough to hotwire the healing process, without dulling sensation.

You'd mused privately to yourself on more than one occasion, that you thought he liked to feel the pain. Whether it was a show of control, or an exercise in self-punishment, you couldn’t say. But you'd learned early on, working here, never to bring a pain suppressant around the former Commander.

Maybe no one else had ever picked up on that, because it seemed you were the only person he ever allowed near him with a bandage. You didn't mind. Nor did you mind the way his eyes always followed you quietly as you worked, as you'd gently cleanse his wounds from the battles and conquests that he fearlessly led as the new Supreme Leader of the First Order. You certainly liked him better than the last one. You thought maybe Ren even liked the way your fingers would subtly worship his figure with every quiet and efficient pass of gauze. Maybe he knew where those fingers ended up later. Sick bastard. A smirk tugged the corner of your lip.

His arm was hanging over the edge of the cot, a cautery pen still held loosely in his bloodied fingers. You sighed, removing the device, and picked his arm up to lay it neatly by his side. The weight of it caught your breath in your chest, the solid and heavy cord of muscle dwarfing your hands.

You quickly shook away the distraction, seating yourself on the bedside stool and turning to your most immediate concern: The deep, ripped laceration that bled from his lower abdomen. Vibroblade, you’d wager. It was oozing around the half-cauterized flesh, ugly and red from where he'd clearly begun to try and solder himself shut. You gently placed the cauterizer on the bedside stand. A crude tactic, and not one you would settle for, you decided as you retrieved a sterile suture pouch instead. Preparing another antiseptic cloth and gauze for the blood, you hovered back over the wound.

A realization started to echo along the tunnel of your focus, and the walls crashed away with a thump of your heart as you stared at Ren's flank beneath you, where his breathing had notably deepened and steadied. Your hands froze as your eyes shifted up the planes of his torso, cold spines gouging your chest as you reached his face. His eyes were open, fixed calmly upon your own stare, a flush restored to his full, pouted lips. Ice shattered in your veins.

"S-supreme Leader, I-” You dropped your materials onto the mattress, “You- you want to b-be alone, I'll j-just-" you were stammering, pushing your seat back, brain vibrating with panic. This was it. You escaped now, or you were joining the droid.

You made it about halfway to standing when a hand cinched on your wrist, arresting your movement. Your breath halted as you snapped back around, your heartbeat slamming in your throat.

Something boiled up behind his irises then, trapped so fiercely under the tempered surface of his eyes that his jaw locked tight and his chin quivered slightly with the strain of it. Your brain began to scramble. The look held an unmistakable need, a plea that said, so deafening in its silence, Stay.

You carefully held his gaze as you began to sink back down onto the small seat beside the bed. Your hand was trembling under his grip, every drop of air evaporating in your lungs as his pleading eyes burned through you. You slowly let yourself sit until your weight rested fully on the stool again.

Ren’s body slackened, releasing the air back into the room, and his head dropped back onto the thin pillow in a flutter of raven locks. His eyes drifted shut as a breath rolled through his nose and deep into his chest.

His grip had eased around your wrist, enough for your brain to now register the pleasant warmth of his enormous hand as it softly enveloped the lower part of your forearm. The sensation dumbfounded you for a moment as you stared between your arm and your Supreme Leader's face. The muscles in his brow twitched over his closed eyes as several more controlled breaths seemed to forcibly banish something from his body.

You came back to yourself as a trickle of dark blood drew your gaze back down to his abdomen, where it painted a river over bruised flesh before falling down his side to soak crimson sunbursts into the white sheet. You cautiously twisted your wrist free, and he let his hand drop softly back to the sheet without resistance. Hesitantly, you ran a hand across his skin, next to the gaping wound, inspecting the separated flesh. Firm muscles bunched under your touch, tugging at the ragged edges and inspiring another pulse of fresh red. You studied his face as his lashes lifted open again to meet your eyes. It took you a moment to find your breath.

"I... need to close this," you breathed, tracing a featherlight and completely instinctive touch of reassurance over his intact skin near the wound. He chewed the inside of his lip.

"Do it."

Your belly fluttered at the low command, his eyes never wavering from your gaze. You swallowed. Standing slowly to bend over his abdomen, you studied the open section of the wound. The edges were relatively clean, and it didn't look like the blade had made it deep enough to hit anything vital. The bleeding was nasty though, despite your meticulous cleaning job. His skin here would naturally be taut over firm abdominal muscles, a high tension area, you noted. You’d need to place dermal sutures if you wanted them to hold. Your brow knitted in preemptive sympathy.

“This is going to hurt.” You muttered.

Well, perhaps that was obvious. But stitching up conscious patients was not exactly your area of expertise, so maybe in a way, you were preparing yourself more than him. You were surprised at how well you managed to withhold the tremor from your hands as you quickly cleaned the wound again. It steeled your resolve slightly.

You tossed the soaked gauze, and plucked a curved needle and sinewy thread from the sterile bag. You readied your hand over the cleansed wound and flashed your gaze up to Kylo Ren’s eyes, waiting for... well, you didn’t know. Any kind of final approval or declination, maybe. He said nothing, but his eyes burned you steadily as his jaw locked in place, making the tightness in your chest flutter and twist. Swallowing, you turned back to the half-closed gash. You quickly threaded the first set-back stitch with nimble precision, and tugged the edges closed.

Ren’s muscles locked up with a full-body grunt, and a broad hand shot up from where it lay on the bed to grip the inside curve of your thigh. A jolt leapt through your body, setting your heart at a wild pace. Surely that was just a reflex. Surely he would let go. Blinking, you tried to find the voice in your chest.

"You… you have to r-relax." It came out more breathless than you intended as you fumbled only slightly with tying and cutting the thread. You paused to steady yourself, ignoring how warm your skin felt under his hand. A deep breath rolled through the Supreme Leader, and to your utmost shock, his core slackened obediently.

His hand did not leave your thigh. You took a breath and forced yourself to continue, fingers curling to pierce and thread the next suture through the tender, deep layer of skin. A lower, longer vibration left Ren’s nose as his large fingers gripped tighter into the soft pillow of your flesh. Your breath came shallow as your brain ignited, trying not to file that noise away under the category of pleasure. No. Stop that. You refused to indulge the thought, or the warmth that it shot through your lower body, as you refocused on your work.

You fixed your eyes firmly on your target, not letting yourself meet his gaze again. The next few sutures were accompanied by sounds from Ren that you diligently ignored. If you acknowledged what they sounded like, your focus would be obliterated. It already half was. But the growing hum at the apex of your thighs could not be indulged, could not break your concentration, even if it was just above where his hand… Oh.

Oh.

His thumb traced the slowest line along the crease of your groin.

It was impossible not to notice the stiffness that was beginning to tent his pants, close to where your face hovered over his lower abdomen. A shiver caressed your spine at the sight, as all of the heat in your body began to gravitate to the heartbeat in your cunt. You swallowed thickly. Stars help you, the sight of him. Supreme Leader Kylo fucking Ren, laying underneath you, his cock getting hard as you caused him excruciating pain. And you… you fucking... liked it.

His hand shifted then, sliding upwards to press a single, precise stroke along the concealed line of your heat. “Oh-” The soft moan came unwillingly from the bottom of your chest, and you braced one hand out on the mattress as your knees turned to liquid. Your body responded so automatically that it made your head spin, your thighs shifting wider, inviting his touch. You could have passed out when he curled his hand to pet another slow stripe over your clothed slit. 

Panting now, you lifted a pleading stare to meet his eyes. They were hooded black vats of desire, and your heart dropped right through your cervix as they drank you in. Your face tingled hot. Your brain wobbled along the line between finishing your task, and the primal need that was erupting through your belly. Either way, you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him to stop.

“Supreme Le-”

"Off." He interrupted lowly, pinching at the fabric of your pants. You weren't sure why you obeyed so fucking immediately, but before you could think, your thumbs were hooking into your waistband, and then you were stepping out of your boots, trousers, and underwear, kicking them carelessly across the floor. The tails of your white coat tickled your exposed skin as you positioned yourself back over his wound, wet cunt bared and leaking down your thighs. Cheeks burning with a heat that reached all the way down to your chest, you pointedly avoided his eyes. You tried to steady your hands, and you swore you could feel his gaze stoking a wildfire at your core. You swallowed, staring detachedly at your fingers.

No, the medic instinct in you wouldn’t allow you to leave your work half finished. If you had the wherewithal to think about it, you might have concluded that he knew this, but that didn’t mean he would hold back in making it as difficult as possible for you now that you were, well, in this state. Taking a breath, you threaded another stitch. This time he shamelessly groaned, and his fingers slipped easily through the silky heat of your slit. You gasped, almost doubling over again as you tied off the suture.

You finally looked at him. His nostrils were flared and his throat bobbed, as he watched his own long fingers collect the wetness that leaked from your core. Pleasure and shame waged war across your skin, and your knees went weak as he met your eyes again.

“Keep going,” he stated calmly, gesturing with only his eyes towards the wound that was now nearly shut.

“Fuck,” you whispered, eliciting a hiss of breath from the Supreme Leader as his fingers passed in a slow arc around the top of your stiff clit.

How you managed it, you had no idea, but in very little time you were looping the last thread over itself, tightening it, and cutting. You blinked, looking back along the neat line of sutures as Ren continued idly stroking at your slit, sending shocks down to your toes.

“D-done.” You stammered as you shuffled your supplies together and started to step back.

With a flash of rippling muscle, Ren sat up and captured the back of your neck, pulling you in just inches from the strong curve of his nose. Your materials clattered to the floor as your legs nearly buckled from the sudden weight of his proximity, his gaze pitching you in an inky black tide of lust.

“Gentle little thing,” he pondered, running a thumb under your jaw. Your lungs simply didn’t function any more, you decided, as heat chased the air from the bottom of your bronchioles and out into the space between you. “I’ve wondered about you.”

Your voice hiccuped dumbly in your chest. “Ab-bout me, S-supreme Lead- oh.” Your question hung unfinished from your slack jaw as the pad of his finger shifted wetly across your clit, shooting a liquid flame up your spine that burst in your brain.

“Mm,” he supplied in acknowledgement, his lust-blackened gaze all but swallowing you whole. “Such a pretty thing...” Heat flowered in your cheeks again. “So unassuming.” He slid two fingers down your slick folds towards your entrance, and the delicate stem of a whimper crawled from your throat.

“You want to let go.” He stated in a deep, near-whisper. “Don’t lie to yourself, officer, I can feel your need for it.” You shuddered. Absolutely you wanted to let go. You wanted to do a lot of things, but mostly anything that would elicit those sounds that he was making before, while you punctured his dermis with a curved fucking needle.

“Yes, Supreme Leader.” Your voice seemed far away in your own ears.

The hand around the back of your neck curled slowly until it tightened into the hair follicles at your nape, and the pinpricks sent a thrilling voltage through your nerves that made you gasp.

"Just as I thought," he hummed, the smallest hint at a smirk twitching on the corner of his mouth. “Your desires are far from innocuous.” The lust that thickened his voice had you clenching.

He held your hair tightly, the pain scraping down your spine and feeding heat into the coiling, writhing need that hummed above your thighs. He began to lean back and pull you with him, until you had to shuffle your knee onto the mattress to keep from falling. His hand abandoned the wet heat between your legs, and a solid arm slid impatiently around your waist instead, pulling your hips firmly over him until you straddled his lap on the generous cot.

The feeling of his clothed, straining cock nestling against your folds chased a whine over your lips, and Ren caught it in its tracks, drinking down the sound as his plush lips claimed your open mouth. Fire exploded through your body and your hands flew to his chest, sliding up over hot, bruised skin until your nails were dragging up his neck and into the inky softness of his hair. A deep growl quaked in his chest and his tongue slid greedily across the roof of your mouth, coaxing your jaw wider for him.

You felt his hands slide to grasp the lapels of your coat and yank them over your shoulders. With a thrill of excitement, you threw your arms back to allow him to shuck the garment roughly from your body. Your shirt followed over your head, forcing you to surface from the depths of the kiss with a vulgar wet sound. The second you were free, his massive hand trapped your wrists behind your back, and you gasped at the sudden feeling of immobility. Kylo Ren pinned you under his dark gaze, pulling your arms to arch your back and press your tits up towards him, his eyes devouring the bareness of you that he displayed for himself.

Then he lunged. His hot mouth latched into your neck and worked down to your chest, his strong grip arching you further until his lips pursed around your pebbled nipple. Your jaw fell open in a gasp as he slid his tongue across the bud and drew it between his teeth, pinching just hard enough to leave it aching, and mirrored the action on your other breast. He hummed as he moved back up to lick wet, open-mouthed kisses along your jaw, sliding along your skin until you felt hot breath flood the sensitive hollow of your ear.

“I wonder how you taste, pretty thing.”

The sound that left you was fucking obscene, his words dissolving every bone in your body. You instinctually ground down on his swollen cock, seeking pressure lest your cunt actually rupture with need.

He began to lay back, his hands releasing your wrists, and your strained muscles flooded with relief. Clutching your thighs, he pulled your hips insistently to follow his face back to the head of the cot. A nervous tremor wracked you as he guided your thighs over his shoulders, the realization crashing over you all at once. You were about to sit on the face of the most dangerous man in the fucking galaxy. He closed his eyes and pressed his nose to your mons, inhaling deeply and releasing a growling moan that vibrated right up your body.

A deep magenta bruise flowered his temple and cheekbone, decorating the seam where the flesh of your thigh now ended and his face began. Your core clenched in anxious anticipation, and he turned his face to sink his teeth into the tender flesh of your thigh. Remnants of fear were still paralyzing your chest, but the bolt of pain that flashed up your body pierced through it and into your brain for a moment of blissful clarity. You moaned as you suddenly registered just how much pulsing heat was settling inside your walls, aching now to be soothed by his tongue. He ran his hands down your sides and gripped your hips, and he leveled a dark look up at you that liquefied your bones.

"Please…" you began to whisper.

In a flash, he took your hands and pinned them to the small of your back, then thrust his warm, flat tongue against your cunt with a low groan. Your mouth fell open in a silent cry as he licked a wide stroke up the length of your slit, parting your folds and dragging the flat of his tongue across your swollen nub. Tingling pleasure erupted through your lower body, the feeling of him warm and divine and utterly unbelievable. He moved slowly, almost lazily, lost in the taste and scent of you as he began to work that beautiful mouth over every inch of your cunt.

You shifted your hips in desperation, trying to ride his face and gain more friction on the ache that was coiling in your clit, but he locked your arms up roughly, immobilizing you with one of his huge hands around both of your wrists. You whined and he resumed his torturous pace, lapping at you indulgently, rolling his nose across your clit, building a hot pressure in your core that cried painfully for release.

When his lips finally pursed around your bud, his tongue sliding across it in a way that shot light behind your retinas, it was enough to send you reeling. “Oh, fuck-” you groaned as you felt your orgasm start to pull up tight and hot, your body desperately grasping at its relief.  But then it was plateauing, ebbing, as he slowed and slid his silky tongue away from that epicenter of pleasure.

“No, pl-please, please--” you wailed as you felt your impending orgasm slip away down your spine.

Ignoring you, Ren closed his eyes and swallowed with a grunt, sucking down the arousal that had gushed from your entrance, and you felt it travel through his whole body as he went rigid. He shuddered in consummate pleasure then, and your brain suddenly shifted from grieving your denied orgasm to wondering where his other hand might be. You imagined it wrapped around his own cock, and the thought tightened heat around your spine.

You craned a glance over your shoulder, but the sight that met you paralyzed your brain. His cock was free of his trousers, beautifully hard and leaking a bead of precum onto his stomach, untouched. His fingers were instead plunged into the neat line of sutures that studded his low abdomen, fresh crimson welling around his pressure-whitened fingertips as his body trembled. A protest shot instinctively through your chest. 

“Don’t-”

Two huge hands hooked over your thighs, smearing you with red, and yanked your ass back onto the warm, broad expanse of his chest, cutting off your objection with a breathy yelp. You had little time to bemoan the absence of his mouth at your center before your world was spinning, as Ren flipped you underneath him in a shockingly strong, fluid motion that inverted your senses.

You flailed an arm behind you for balance, but before you could get your bearings, he was hauling you effortlessly down the thin mattress by your hips. A squeak escaped you as your shoulders met linen, and then you were wailing as he devoured you again, his eager tongue sliding hot and heavily down your folds. 

He groaned and slipped two blood-drenched fingers into you, pumping and scissoring them slowly as he massaged your clit with his mouth. Shock and pleasure quaked in equal magnitude through your body, every instinct clashing in a spectacular array as your brain fought against itself. You wanted to be horrified, sickened even, but every nerve ending was screaming in nothing but wretched liberation.

In a wash of euphoria, you submitted to it, let your fingers find and lock into his sweat-dampened hair, let yourself sigh and clench around his warm, wet digits as they stroked against something devastating inside of you. He built you up like this again, higher, tighter, but before you could reach the apex of that perfect ache, just when you were whimpering with the promise of shattering into bliss, something began to coil around your spine. An invisible force -- the Force -- squeezing dark numbness down every nerve below your lumbar spine.

No, no, fuck. Tears rushed to your eyes and you choked out a sob, as you trembled in excruciating bereavement. Your wrists were wrenched to your side and tacked to the bed with that same invisible power while Ren continued to indulge himself in your numb cunt, sucking and lapping steadily at your wet heat. Your insides blazed with need and neglect as you watched him slide his fingers out of you and into his mouth, humming in satisfaction as he savored the mixture of his blood and your slick. That was it. You couldn’t keep quiet.

“Kylo, please-”

His eyes locked onto yours, lips still pursed around his fingers. You did not mean to call him that. You quailed suddenly, in your state of helplessness, at the sight of the large man as he began to crawl over you. He kicked off his trousers, looming until you were caged underneath his powerful body and staring helplessly up into the wicked excitement that roiled in his irises.

“Poor, poor thing,” He taunted as an electric current of sensation shot back down your legs, causing you to yelp. His hips rocked to part your slit with the velvety weight of his cock, his swollen and weeping head dragging moisture across your clit as it tingled with renewed feeling.

“So desperate to cum that you’d forget all respect for me.” The words dripped from his lips to pour over your neck as he nipped above your clavicle, seeping into your blood and heating it tenfold. He felt heavy and inviting and perfect, and you clutched your nails sharply into his sides as a crippling wave of need crashed down your spine. He hissed in a breath, letting it out in a nearly inaudible “Fuck.”

A tear spilled down your cheekbone. He was right, you were absolutely fucking desperate, coiled painfully tight after being ripped back from the edge twice. This was his particular brand of mutual torture, denying your release and losing himself in his pain. You needed to do something, anything, to fracture that infuriating, adamantine control. Anything to break the endless cycle of torment.

Your eyes were drawn down to a river of crimson that streaked into the valley of his hip, welling from the fresh spring of your sutures. A writhing, dark desire slithered up your brain stem, burning with some foreign audacity, and it moved your hand almost on its own. Fuck it, you could play this game, too. 

“Please, Supreme Leader,” You corrected yourself, letting your voice thicken through your tears to a noxious sweetness. “I’ll do anything.” 

Your palm slid to his low abdomen, collecting the warm blood with your thumb and sliding it back up towards the neatly closed wound. You slowly ran your slick digit along the raw edge, your breath catching in your chest as you flicked your gaze back to his eyes, just inches in front of yours. His lips hung open slightly, in disbelief, in want, it was impossible to say. But his pupils were blown wide and hungry as he stilled, the smallest twitch of his eye daring you, pleading you, to continue.

“Anything…” you emphasized in a whisper, holding his stare through your damp lashes as you pressed your thumb into the bruised, inflamed skin, crushing your finger straight into the raw nerves. You dug down, down, watching his lips slowly pull into a wild snarl of pain, his thick cock twitching against your folds as a ragged groan tore through his teeth. You were panting now, watching his eyes as they filled with liquid black fire, unblinking, burning through you.

Heart pounding, you pressed further, building a pinpoint of pressure over the closed wound until you felt the fine strand of a suture give way under the pad of your thumb, popping open with a soft shift of flesh. A choked roar ripped itself from Ren’s chest as his hand came down on your throat. His eyes were glazed with a terrifying need, inches from yours, strands of hair beginning to mat on his face as sweat decorated his skin.

His hips began to sink heavily. The head of his cock pushed past your folds, pressing insistently at the tight heat of your entrance. You whimpered, pulse racing under his grip, and braced your hand involuntarily against his abdomen as your walls began to stretch, the wet sting reverberating up your spine. Your eyes shot to his, pleading, but found them fiendish.

"You’re going to take all of me, pretty thing." His voice was barely above a ragged whisper, caged behind rusted bars of restraint that were slowly splintering across his eyes as he broke you open. “And you’re going to cum around my fucking cock when I tell you to.”

It was all you could do to simply whimper and nod, his words paired with the intense stretch effectively wiping your brain blank now. And the stretch kept coming, endlessly, filling you completely, until you thought you might crack in half. When he finally sheathed himself, his body flattened down heavily on top of you, pinning your hips wide open. You couldn’t move your hand, his sheer mass was crushing your thumb inside the wet, raised flesh of the wound as you felt it leak warmly around the base. A sound caught in Ren’s throat, and a shudder wracked his whole body.

He laid there for only a moment, crushing the air from your lungs, bathing in the pain, before he lifted his torso and began to thrust. Still slowly, still so controlled, breath rolling hot and rabid down your neck. You pulled your thumb from beneath his skin with a sickening squelch. Trembling, a morbid urge had you bringing the hand up to your mouth.

You moved to flick your tongue out over the warm, coppery liquid that was now coating your thumb and beginning to run down your forearm. In an instant, Ren snatched your wrist and pinned it beside your head. Something utterly feral played across his eyes that made your stomach squirm.

He panted through his teeth, eyes drifting across your face to the hand that he had pinned down. “You want a taste, whore?” His tone was somewhere between incredulous and eager, only fueling your desire to pry further at the seams of his restraint. You bit your bottom lip, lifting a pleading look into his eyes, and nodded with a whimper.

“Yes, please, ple-- Ah!” He slammed his cock into your cervix, making you cry out.

He snatched your wrist up with a grunt and enveloped your thumb with the heat of his mouth, swirling his strong, silky tongue around your knuckle to collect the liquid. Your head spun as he drew his lips up and off of your digit, slamming your wrist back down to the mattress and crushing his mouth to yours. His tongue pushed ravenously past the guard of your teeth, and your palette lit up with the sharp mix of metallic blood and the remnants of your cunt on his lips.

It was deafening, the rush that cascaded between your ears and crashed down your body at the visceral taste, the sensation of his hot tongue swiping across yours, passing the grotesque mixture back and forth. You moaned into his mouth and he shuddered, gripping your jaw muscles to force your mouth open as he drew away, resuming the rhythm of his thrusts. He spat a thick emulsion of blood and saliva into your open mouth before releasing your face, shoving your jaw closed with the heel of his palm. From this angle he could see your neck ripple as you swallowed, and the sight had him deepening his thrusts with a low groan.

Yes, yes, finally. His cock stroked fire along your walls, the sensation of fullness making your eyes roll into your skull. Drunk from deprivation, you wanted more. You blindly reached down the contour of his obliques and drove your thumb back into his wound, finding the slight firmness of another suture and digging into his flesh until you felt a sinewy pop. Kylo Ren roared, his hips stuttering as his body locked up in a rippling wave of tension. Eyes wild, he gripped your throat again, yanking you roughly as your eyes flew open and met his.

“Fucking filthy slut.”

He slammed into you at a merciless pace, hurtling you past any possibility of orgasm and straight into overstimulation as your body burned around him. Your vision swam, your ears beginning to ring as he pounded you relentlessly. Blood struggled to reach your brain under his grip, building a pressure in your skull that made your face vibrate.

He slowed his pace suddenly, and heat sparked to the tips of your nerves again, alighting on every inch of your quivering skin and fuck, you were close. Oh, fuckfuckfuc--

“Cum. Cum for me. Fuck!”

Ren wildly snatched the cautery pen from where you left it on the bed stand, lit it, and plunged the glowing tines straight into the flesh of your thigh. White hot pain fractured your vision, locked every muscle down tight with a scream you couldn’t hear as your orgasm eviscerated you.

Breath stuttered back into your lungs in hazy, broken sobs. Euphoric pain was weeping from your nerves, flowing across your skin to rival the tears that now ran free and hot down your face while razorblades of pleasure still flayed your veins open. The ringing in your ears finally began to give way to low grunts breaking over the fragmented tide of your sobs.

“Good girl, g-ood, fuck-- shh... pretty fucking thing.” Ren’s deep murmurs faded into your eardrums, the words slurring and thickening through his teeth as he pried the tool from your sizzling flesh. He set it aside, pace unrelenting, and dragged a hand over your cheek. Sticky blood mixed with your tears as his fingers fastened into the flesh of your face. He watched your eyes come back into focus, his own glazed in primal rapture.

He propelled a few more slamming thrusts into the depths of you as the death throes of your orgasm withered on your skin. And then you were empty, gasping, and he was flipping you over so easily you didn’t know which way was up any more. Your breath was muffled by a pillow, and you turned your face just in time for a massive, dirty hand to come down on your cheekbone.

He crushed your face into the fabric, wrestling your hips upwards with his other forearm until your knees reluctantly shifted up to support them. You whimpered at the pressure on your skull and the throbbing pain that radiated from your thigh, but the sound deepened in your chest when you felt the blunt head of his cock graze along your swollen lips. Stars, you needed him to fill you in any way, your emptiness now entwining with your pain to send a cry of grief through your shuddering bones that could only be soothed by that voice, those hands, that perfectly thick cock in any part of you. Overcome, you moaned for it.

“Fuck,” he rasped, dragging his tip back and forth over your clit, adding skittering jolts to the ache that might as well be burning away your peritoneum like paper, causing your organs to pour out over the floor in gruesome mercy. He slid his hand back along the curve of your spine, releasing your face, and you gasped in the acrid taste of copper. His palms smothered your ass, fingers splaying wide and squeezing, pulling your cheeks up and apart for his view. It was filthy, the eroticism of it, but shame was a faraway song in the tempest of your need, barely heard as you clutched the sheets and arched in presentation for him. You heard a hissing intake of breath, which he let out in a slew of unintelligible filth as the fat head of his cock slowly split you again.

Even after just moments of vacancy you had to readjust to the size of him, but the stretch was utterly demulcent this time as he gradually sheathed himself in your aching walls until his head was grinding down against your cervix. Your eyes flew wide with a gasp as you clawed the sheet, streaking it redder, willing your body to relax around the merciless presence of his cock. He pumped his hips once, slowly, powerfully, and your eyes rolled back again as your muscles turned to warm jelly.

“Kylo…” You barely heard yourself moan out, and you had no idea whether he heard you either, as a loud groan suddenly kicked up his pace and the decibels of his rambling.

“Ffffuuck, feel sofuckinggood, so tight…. fucking perfect little cunt…”

You could die, you could actually fucking die from how it felt to lose yourself in this, how possessed you were by the repulsive freedom of it, of him, spitting filthy nothings into the thick air while you entwined yourselves in the dirty rut of shameless pleasure and pain.

You felt hot liquid trickle into the seam between your flesh and Ren’s with the next few smacks of his hips against your ass. His pace faltered, and he fell over you like a snarling carnivore, palms slamming down on the backs of your hands and pinning them beside your head. His breath tickled hot in your ear, and you shuddered, clenching around him.

“I’m going to make you cum again.” He snarled, before yanking you back sharply by your hair until you were nearly upright on your knees, your shoulder blades meeting the warmth of his chest. You caught a flash of blood-coated fingers as they reached around you and began to rub hot, wet circles over your clit.

“Like the filthy fucking whore you are. That I- fuck- knew you were.”

Your muscles gave out as he spoke, your body supported only by his overbearing strength, as euphoria wrapped your nerve endings in white flame. You were keening, though you could hardly hear yourself, as the pressure on your clit started to pull a second orgasm outward from your bones.

His hips pounded ruthlessly against your ass as he brutally fucked you, the force of it knocking air from your lungs with every impact. A glow began to erupt from your spine with the next few passes of his fingers over your clit, and then you were cumming, hard, sailing into an abyss of ecstasy that swallowed your sight. When you resurfaced he was roaring, his arm a vice around your ribs, his cock slamming deep and slow inside of your quaking walls and pulsing with his release. 

Ren collapsed on top of you, flattening you into the mattress. Dizziness swam through your blood, intensified by his weight crushing your lungs. He felt warm, sated, absolutely sublime as your spent hole fluttered around his cock, the sensation of his damp breaths on your shoulder easily overriding your need for oxygen. You were perfectly content to lay like this until you blacked out, if that’s what it would take to keep him there.

But then he was rolling off of you, a soft groan rumbling through his body as the cold air of the room kissed the sweat on your spine. It sobered you like an ice bath and you shifted away from him, suddenly feeling the weight of a needed distance between yourself and the Supreme Leader. You dropped your legs to the floor to stand, and pain ricocheted up your body from your thigh. You winced as your leg buckled in a blatant refusal to support your weight, catching yourself on the edge of the bed frame.

You instead sank back onto the small stool, and felt it become slick with cum as you grabbed wads of gauze from a drawer in the bed stand. Blood was gushing from his abdomen again, joining the sheen of bright red that mottled most of his skin as well as the sheets, and you began to work mechanically to staunch the flow once more. Kylo shifted onto his back and let you do it, his eyes falling shut as panting breaths oscillated through his chest. You were filthy, you registered, as you looked down at the red-brown crust of half dried blood that was smeared on your hands and all the way up your forearms.

You gently dabbed at his skin, slowly cleansing the mess and wrangling the bleeding back under your practiced control. The edges of your skin practically cried out in neglect, the dull pain that thrummed through your body begging to be soothed by even the smallest of tender touches that you didn’t dare ask for. The pain seemed to catch up to him as well now. He breathed through it, but you saw it lock up in his exhales, in the tense pull of his brow over his dark lashes. You let the pass of his skin under your palms soothe you both until his bare skin glowed clean and the bleeding was no more than a steady trickle.

Staring at his comparatively clean body under your blood-crusted hands, you suddenly felt disgustingly exposed in your nakedness. You stooped quickly to grab the leg of your pants where they lay on the floor, but Ren’s hand gripped your arm roughly, yanking your elbow back onto the stained mattress.

"Oh, pretty thing.” He growled. “We're not finished, yet."