#he fills me with so much rage its actually dumb

[ozymoron]

i need a gif set of that stupid fucking wave jeremiah does when hes in that fucking cell in the gcpd it pisses me off so much its stupid

[prettybutter-flyy]

An Overreaction: A short story.

Ugh. Why won’t I die?

I wake up. Again. Why? I stumble out of bed and head to the bathroom. When I look in the mirror, I try smiling at the man I see - but I don’t even recognize him. When did he age? When did bags begin growing under his eyes? When did he start losing his hair? I don’t feel like the spry, enthusiastic man I once prided myself on being.

In my youth, days started with a spring out of bed and gratitude for the chance to participate in society, to socialize, to connect, to learn! I used to love to move and dance and flirt or, sometimes, even work! The synergetic zeal of getting into a flow or tossing ideas back and forth with people you trust… God, time has beaten that out of me. Beaten me senseless.

I don’t think time is my enemy here, though. Time itself has not robbed me of my faith in humanity - in my faith in myself. A fatherless childhood will do that, too. A promotion that should have gone to me did it. A woman that would have been happier had she picked me did it. Ending up alone in a huge house that I own, with no one to fill it with new memories, did it. So now I haunt my own home, stalking about for stimulation. For purpose.

I am utterly useless, and I seem to be the last one to figure it out. Every single day. When will I die? I roll my eyes in the mirror, dismissing those happy morning thoughts, to actually do my bathroom business.

…

The sun shines through the windows of my house. I don’t feel its warmth on my skin; instead, the air conditioning isolates me from the heat of a Texas summer morning. I take my first bite of the stale breakfast I made for myself today (like I do every day): cereal. The sugar gives me a rush. As I’m eating, the young woman I see every day, jogs down the street.

I wonder where she could possibly get the energy and time to run. Maybe if I didn’t have cereal every morning, I might have some energy to go on an early morning run, I think as I crunch on my Frosted Flakes. I know they’re bad for me, but I love them. I think we all have little vices we indulge in to make life a little more exciting.

I see her every day with her dumb little dog. She usually comes by a couple of times; I assume she does laps around my small block.

Today, she stops in front of my house and takes a deep breath. She is huffing and puffing as she pulls her phone from her pocket and snaps a “selfie.” While she does this, her dumb little dog begins to do its business. Disgusting. Then I chuckle because, judging by the angle the girl was standing, she may have captured her dog in a compromising position.

Then, to my indignation, the woman continues her jog, as if her dog had not just dropped a fat turd on my lawn!

The nerve of this girl! To drop the burden of cleaning up her dog’s bowel movements on me, a feeble old man - what right does she think she has to my time? To my lawn! I feel the rage pent up inside of me—I don’t even finish my cereal. I march myself to my garage, open my garage door, grab a lawn chair from the pile of fishing gear in the corner, march myself to the lawn, and set my chair—and my butt—next to the stinky excrement.

The smell is potent, and my anger is all-consuming. The hot morning air was likely to thank for that. But I stayed there. She comes down the street multiple times a day, every weekday (I know this because we often wave to each other), and it is Friday. She will be back. And she will answer for this crime. And it is a crime; in this county, it is LAW that you must pick up after your dog. I should call the police! They can air her out without much escalation. As much as I would enjoy teaching her a lesson, they can teach her a much more expensive lesson. One that will ruin her month(ly budget).

I seethe. Much like the stench of this dog dropping, I am festering in this Texas heat—really, how can anyone run in this?! My vexation jumps out of my body, tapping my toe to the ground, crossing my arms so tightly I fear I may get a heat stroke.

When she turns the corner for the second time, her dog trotting along her side, I begin to shake. Her stupid dog’s happy little face also enrages me. The woman smiles and waves at me—like she usually does—as she runs closer and closer. I feel my own heartbeat in my chest, my face puffy and red, as if I'm the one running.

I stand and wave back at her angrily to get her attention. “You’ve got some nerve!”

Now she seems to understand that I’m talking to her. She slows her jog until she’s jogging in place and takes out one of those high-tech earphones from her right ear and places it in her hand.

“Excuse me?” the woman stops jogging in place. The dog sits, calmly, happily. “Is something wrong?” She’s not even tired from the running, no panting. I don’t think I even see the glisten of sweat! What is she? Some kind of Olympian?

“‘oH Is SoMetHiNg WrOnG?’” I mock her. “Uh, yeah, you let your dog poop on my lawn, and you just left it here to stink up the whole neighborhood!”

“Oh!” She covers her mouth, eyes wide with embarrassment. She is older than I’d thought, maybe only 20 years younger than me. Up close, she has kind eyes and a muscular build. She pulls a bag out of her pocket. “I’m so sorry! Max here pooped before we got to this house, and I had to use my last bag, but I just ran to get some more so I could clean it up when I looped back around!” She bends down to pick up the poop and pet her Max. “I’m sorry!”

“Good!” I grunt, “Don’t you EVER pull an entitled, lazy stunt like that again!”

She continues to make excuses, like she’s some quirky awkward protagonist in a coming of age movie, “It’s funny, when this happens, I take a picture of the house he did it on, go grab a bag, and come back!” She shows me the photos on her phone, which she wasn’t in at all. Just the mailbox and the dog poop. She swipes a couple of times to show similar photos.

I scoff, “So this happens often?”

“I mean, as often as it happens to most dog owners.” She fiddles with the bag.

I roll my eyes at her back-sass. “Well, I should have called the cops. They’d teach you some kind of lesson about personal responsibility. What, do you think everyone just cleans up after you? That you’re the main character of the world? Is that why you think you can just do whatever you want to other people’s property?”

“I don’t think,” she stammers. “I just—” She looked like she may cry.

So I continue. Maybe I can scream a tear or two out.

“You probably don’t even own a house in this neighborhood, do you? You’re probably a renter, aren’t you? Because if you owned a house, you would understand what it was like to keep your shit nice and protect it from those who want to destroy the life you’ve made for yourself!”

“No one else has had a problem with me here. I pick it up every single time! I didn’t mean to disrespect you but what was I supposed to do? Pick it up with my hand?”

“You don’t know ANYTHING about respect! I had to work for 55 years before I could finally retire in this house. I’ve taken care of it every day of my life, because I RESPECT my things. My lawn is not public property! Stay off of it, or I will call the police next time! It’s illegal to not clean up your dog’s SHIT!” I spit at her. As I speak, the embarrassment in her eyes fades and changes to something else. A different type of embarrassment?

The woman was (probably) about to give me another round of excuses, but almost like someone flipped a switch in her brain, her face eases. “Ohhhhh,” she says as she puts her earphone back in her ear. “You just want to argue with someone.” She begins to jog away, almost nonchalantly. Almost.

“I do not!” I start shouting again. “You need to learn some goddamn respect! What, your generation can’t even have a conversation without getting oFfEnDEd? Do you know how much a fine for littering—”

She whips back around, angrily, ripping out both of her fancy earphones this time. For a second, I feared she might hit me. The calm runner I saw every day was gone. She was basically panting, like what she was about to say would take all the energy she had left.

“You came outside from your rEspECtaBle, cold air-conditioned paid-off retirement home to sit in the hot Texas sun with DOG SHIT. And then you yelled at me for a misunderstanding that—” she holds up the doggy bag. “I HAVE CORRECTED and have apologized for, and now… you’re STILL yelling at me?” She scoffs. “Because you know soooo much about respect!”

She shoves her earphones back into her ears and she and her dog skip along their merry way, but not before leaving me with a pitiful, “You’ve got nothing better to do.”

I watch her jog away, the sun cooking my skin. I could just run with her. I used to have energy like that, long ago. Now I glance back at my home, not wanting to go back in.

…

After putting up my lawn chair and closing my garage, I return to the kitchen table. My skin cools down, and it feels as if someone’s poured ice water on my fire. That other embarrassment was pity. I know, because I feel it for myself now. I return to my cereal. It is soggy.

[babbushka]

,,

[stardustincarnate]

PARTNERS IN CRIME // Grell Sutcliff x Reader

FEMALE READER.

SUMMARY : You had been suffering in the hands of the thing known to be your husband. You had enough. You wanted him dead. And so you began to devise a plan to kill him; when suddenly, you stumbled upon a flirtatious redhead, who, unbeknown to you, was willing to be your partner in crime.

WORD COUNT : 5957 words.

GENRES : angst. very slight fluff if you squint. smut.

WARNINGS : domestic abuse. physical and mental torture. 19th century misogyny. implications of rape. cheating. reader is implied to have serious mental health issues and is on the brink of insanity.

watch out for typographical/grammatical errors.

♡ writing commissions are open! ♡

CLICK HERE FOR THE WATTPAD VERSION.

"You duffer! What do you think you're doing back there?!"

My livid husband -- as much as I didn't want to call that fiend that title, for the sake of continuing my family's legacy, I did, for three unbearable years -- lashed his whip at me, at the same time screaming with such shrillness that all dignity was lost. A new set of wounds overlapped my barely healing ones. I bit back a sob. Being used to being deliberately abused didn't mean that it wouldn't hurt anymore, or that I'd eventually grow numb to it. At the time I had two choices: to answer his rhetorical question or not, but both always led to the same outcome.

Another whip of the lash, which welted my cheeks and smeared blood around the area. The tears which formed on my eyes fueled that manic bloodlust on his abominable face. He laughed and said, "Don't come crying now! Weren't you the one who was so complacent earlier? Disrespecting your husband in public. Have some shame, you harlot! You don't get to talk back to me. I am the man here. You're just a woman who can't even follow the simplest rule."

The following whips were ceaseless and more jarred than the last. The butlers and the maids... they could only watch with empty eyes. No remorse, no guilt about being not able to do anything for the one who had kept them so they could sustain their families. 

Those ungrateful rats...

By the end of the night, the sleek, white floor had been tainted with my blood. Its iron smell filled the room, and the fiend had told the servants to clean up the filth. Then, he took me back to the bedroom.

"Surely, you're not dumb enough to think that I'd actually sleep with trash like you tonight. Go and fix yourself. You earned this. And if you let any wounds be left uncovered for the meeting tomorrow, you know what I'm gonna do."

Gritting my teeth, I seized the bedsheet with quivering hands, looking at the door which the fiend had just closed. I couldn't hear his footsteps nor the wind that howled forlornly that night. In fact, the only thing I could hear was my raging heartbeat and the voice in my head which vividly spoke to me. The voice which overwrote any other thoughts and told me what I needed to do.

I had to kill that bastard.

⋆ฺ｡*:･

Several days later.

My plan was fixed. All that was left to do was to put it in action at the right moment. I still had to wait for it to come, and it left me furious, filled with even sicker thoughts, that I could not set it in motion immediately as I had wanted -- needed.

I found myself at a jewelry shop at the time. Perhaps some of the beauts could offer just the tiniest amount of relaxation for me. I stooped and stared at the jade in the selection, when suddenly I sensed an encroachment, a figure looming behind me. Fearing that it might be the bastard, I immediately turned around. But it was only a stranger -- a stranger who possessed possibly the most vibrant shade of red hair and a peculiar pair of chartreuse irides. She seemed too pompous to be in a place like this. I wondered if she had taken interest in the jade I was staring at. I moved to the side, but she began speaking to the confused purveyor.

"Those amethysts suit the lady very well, don't they?"

It took me a while to figure out that she was indeed referring to me. She reeked of no harm, but I did not understand why she was acting so familiar with me, so I put my guard on nonetheless.

"L-Lady Everleigh, would you like to take a look at these amethysts?"

The stranger suddenly smiled at me. I looked at the purveyor and nodded. As he took it out for me to see, the redhead walked closer to me.

"Lady Everleigh, is it?"

I instinctively hissed, a subtle one so she would not notice. How much I loathed being called by that surname.

"I don't think I've ever seen you around here."

She chuckled, almost coyly. "Oh dear, I have been around here for quite a while now."

"Really? Because I'd remember that pompous red hair anywhere. What's your name?"

"I'm Grell Sutcliff, the one and only." The flirtatious nature surrounding her only expanded. "Now now dear, I certainly won't let you go without knowing your full name, so, pray tell."

"I am Lady [Y/N] Everleigh of the House of Everleigh. Pleased to make your acquaintance, Ms. Sutcliff."

The merchant who had just come back looked like he was about to apologize profusely on behalf of Grell's ignorance. Yet I decided to not mind it nonetheless. Strangers are sometimes better than people you know, because the latter often judge harsher than the former.

"So, why did you think that these amethysts suit me, Grell?" I stared at the purple gems glinting before me, then stared at her. I could not help but be mesmerized by the peculiar color of her eyes. They were fascinating. I didn't think that I had seen such pair of vivid eyes like hers. She was also observing me, but I had observed longer. She looked pleased at my astonishment, well-aware of her own beauty and charisma. I averted my eyes back to the gems.

She was, undoubtedly, pulchritudinous.

"Why they suit you? Well, no other reasons than them being so pretty! I would've liked them to myself if it weren't for the fact that purple isn't my usual color. It clashes horribly with my hair color!"

True enough, they were beautiful. Beautiful enough to like, beautiful enough to loath. They were pretty, but they did not suit me, for amethysts were supposed to symbolize one's chastening and purity. It would be horrible, wouldn't it? For such a lovely gem's worth be brought down only because someone so tainted already and filled with nothing but murderous thoughts, someone who couldn't be fixed with purification, had worn it.

I forced a smile. "I'll take it. The lady said it suits me, so it does." The merchant looked delighted, and as I was giving my payment, I accidentally glanced at the ruby placed at the bottom, then at Grell. An idea struck me.

"Grell. Would you like to have dinner with me later? You need only to tell me of your address. I'll send a carriage by 7. How does that sound?"

"Oh let's see -- hmm, Will probably won't mind if I... delay my duties for a bit, won't he? Besides, I deserve a break after all the hard work I've put in this job!" She mumbled on, noisily, the fact that she was in a public place slipping from her mind. Her mind had begun to wander aimlessly at the thoughts of how a certain colleague of hers bothered her to the brim.

I coughed, gaining her attention. Through the pristine glass window behind her I could see the sun starting to drown in the horizon, layers and layers of warm hues overlapping each other, with a promise of a darker sky looming on the back.

"How I would love to go out with you, Madam. However, I shall be the one to escort you to our place of dining. Well, you see, whether I like it or not, I live in such poor conditions -- and I can't bear the thought of Madam's reaction once she finds out how terrible it looks from the lips of her assistants!"

I suppressed a smirk. We all have secrets we don't want anyone to dredge, so I understood the reason behind her lying about her living conditions. It was not my part to be curious, at any rate.

"I understand, yet I'm afraid that cannot be. My... husband is such a baby, you see. He absolutely loathes it whenever friends of mine come for a visit. Rather petty, innit?" I furtively winked at the merchant who was too obvious on listening intently to my conversation with Grell. "How about we meet here by 7pm? We could take a walk to our dining place. It won't be that long. I wouldn't want to tire you out, would I?"

"Oh, but the weariness would be worth it for you." She smirked, and I found myself smiling. She added, "Anyway, I'm fine with it. Do be careful, darling. I shall see you around later."

"Looking forward to it."

With that, we both left the jewelry shop and parted ways.

An unbidden smile found its way to my lips as I recalled our encounter. Amidst all the problems besetting my life, I had made a sudden acquaintance, and found something to look forward to, as if I had been stuck wandering in the woods wherein daytime ceased to exist, and finally I had caught glimpse of flames. A bonfire. The premonition of freedom awaited me... There, in the flames.

I stared at the setting sun in awe and contemplation. The illusion at the sky was that of a dancing flame, vivid red.

Grell. Such charisma. A very charming lady, indeed.

⋆ฺ｡*:･

The remaining hours passed speedily. I had gone out to our meeting spot solely and without consent (as if  I needed an utter dingus to tell me what to do), as the abomination had not yet arrived. The butlers and maids did not bother to ask where I was headed, though I saw how their eyes wandered apprehensively on me. If the abomination would have to arrive before I did, he would ask them, yet they had not a clue where I went, which put my heart at ease.

The familiar figure that I was strangely but utterly delighted to see was leaning against the wall, shadows casting over her face. As I walked closer I began to see that flirtatious, smiling countenance once more, and I automatically smiled.

"Shall we, my lady?"

"We shall."

And so we began walking side by side.

"You don't seem to have a lot on your plate these days, now do you, Madam? I was actually surprised that you managed to ask me out on a date."

I coughed. "Pardon?"

"Well of course I meant a friendly date. Just two beautiful ladies hanging out with each other."

"I don't have much to do, you see. One might think that living inside a huge mansion is a privilege -- in which case, it is, as seen from a more incisive perspective -- however, it has been quite... monotonous, these past few... weeks? Months. I have lost track of time. Seeing the same old people, their same old habits and emotions, or lack thereof..."

When I looked down, I saw that our arms had been linked together.

"I reckon you must have been so lonely, Lady Everleigh."

I sighed as I peered into the distance, looking at the signs. "I am. It's rather difficult to maintain a reputation amidst all the turmoils happening in one's life," I paused, then smiled. "Pardon me. I ramble too much."

"Ramble as much as you'd like. After all, it's merely the two of us here. Well, excluding passers-by, of course." She smiled, almost wistfully, as our eyes met, her features illuminated by the pale moonlight. I stopped my tracks, flabbergasted by her beauty. I swallowed the uninvited lump in my throat and then looked around, suddenly interested in the most mundane things around. We continued walking.

What was this? What's up with her, or with me? Why did I feel like opening up to a complete stranger? Why was it that I had the urge to release and lay everything upon her?

Somehow... It was almost like a bone-deep feeling, that she was someone to be trusted.

"But of course, I can ramble for you instead if you don't want to. Nobles do like to be conservative and mysterious after all, don't they?"

"Please, not all. And certainly not when it comes to you," I chuckled, "I would go on and ramble, only if you don't mind the mudslingings about my -- "

"Your husband, I reckon?"

"Yes, that thing."

"Ooh, my, my. Let me guess, you had enough of him, don't you? You want to find someone new -- someone who will give you all the thrills and excitement that he's lacking!"

"Yes, and no. After all the experiences I had with him? I dare not think of engaging in another relationship with anyone, as they could only be far worse than him."

"Oh dearie, you might eat your own words someday."

"And what makes you say that?"

"I have a very strong feeling about it."

"That's not very reliable now, is it?"

"So you're saying my feelings are invalid, huh!" She said in a frivolous manner.

"Now now don't be so belligerent, Grell. I never said anything." I chuckled. "But it must be nice, you know, to have someone who reciprocates your actions for a spouse. Perhaps in another life. This life? I don't suppose." Quietness enveloped us, before I continued. "I do not think it's appropriate, especially for someone of my status, to tell a stranger a secret, but I know for certain at least everyone in this miserable world had shared their secrets to people worse than strangers -- for instance, backstabbers. But, going back, you already know my secret -- but I'm once again saying it for emphasis: I am not happy with my marriage. It is horrible."

The atmosphere began to feel oppressive. Even talking about him was enough to smother me. I felt my heart beat faster. I regretted it, talking about him. It felt as if he was around me again -- lurking in the shadows, waiting to pounce on me, afflict my psychological being and feist on it. I was about to separate my arm from hers, but she suddenly said, "My, he must've been so bad in bed for you to be able to say that."

I stared at her blankly as she gave me an inconspicuous, knowing look, pushing me against the nearest brick wall. Then I burst into a fit of giggles, my chest genuinely feeling lighter.

"You are rather bold, aren't you? I wasn't pertaining to the explicit part of a relationship. But, I suppose, you aren't wrong in that regard."

"Absolute incompetence!" There were feigned puking noises, and then, "You know, my dear, if you're looking for an exuberant time, I have a suggestion."

"Exuberant time?" I raised a brow eloquently. She grinned like a chesire cat.

"I know how you feel. Your husband is awful in every aspect. You live a lonely life, I daresay."

Unlinking our arms, she backed me into the nearest brick wall. My breathing hitched, but it wasn't another panic attack about to occur. Blood seared throughout me, painting my cheeks, neck, and ears red, the feeling only intensifying as she slammed her left arm against the wall, right beside my head.

"You know, Lady Everleigh, someone so beautiful like you isn't suited for the life of marital loneliness." I tried valiantly to control my breathing as she leaned her face closer to mine. Her hot breath against my neck sent shivers down my spine. I could feel her eyes piercing through my collarbone, and the feeling was oddly... thrilling. She lifted her head up so that our eyes were meeting. The atmospheric tension grew thick with something akin to sinister longing. I was afraid that I would melt right on the spot with her radical gaze.

Suddenly, she whispered, and I dreaded even more, my legs daring to tremble.

"I can fix that." She was smirking now. "What do you say?"

It was clearly a tempting offer. Though I had a vague feeling of wrongness coating me. But was it wrong? Was it any more wrong than the sick thoughts in my head? I had always envisioned killing my abusive husband in many, many creative ways. Was envisioning myself having fun with this redhair any wrong?

I smirked back. But in the end, I had to shake my head.

"No." She pulled herself back, disappointment on her face. But not until I added, "Though I might consider."

After a few more minutes of walking and idly discussing arbitrary topics, we arrived. Once inside, her explicit remarks were blocked out by the chatters of everyone else. I took us to a table and scanned the menu, then we patiently awaited our dishes to be served.

Grell was looking around, her eyes were full of idleness, yet also longing.

"It's been ages since I've eaten properly in a cafe with someone! Ah, terrible days I don't want to reminisce. Thank heavens the image of you in such cafes is enough to block out those unwanted memories," she mumbled, "Though I daresay the menus sound more promising this time."

"Ages? Work must be real tough for you. If only you could work for me, but it would be a drain for your mental well-being. And imagine having to see Mr. Everleigh everyday for a start. You might age rather quickly because of such." I grinned.

"As long as I get to see you, I don't really mind, -- " she winked " -- ugh, if only Will doesn't mind as well. Life can be so horrible, can't it?"

I assented, then a shadow fell over our table. Expecting our food, I looked up with the friendliest smile on my face, only for it to immediately dissolve into a frown once I saw the face of something I had loathed more than anything in the entire universe.

"[Y/N], my darling. Where have you been? I was worried sick! Why did you leave the house without permission? Who knows what could've happened to you! Ugh.. Never leave the house again, okay? I'm so glad I had Roger tail you when you left."

The dingus took my arm, an act of sincere worry to the public, but a torture for me. His nails were digging my skin. I had to suppress a moan because if I didn't, he would hit me -- but what difference would it make, again? Something worse awaited me that night, I felt it.

He looked at Grell. He seemed to be judging her from head to toe. A small sneer formed on his face. I was compelled to slap him but thought better.

"So sorry to interrupt your little bonding, but my wife and I have matters to attend to. Don't we, [Y/N] darling?"

Hearing the nickname physically pained me. I looked at Grell apologetically. She looked very pissed as she stared at the abomination beside me, who had by then elbowed my stomach.

"You're not even gonna let her finish her meal?"

"You don't have to worry about that. We have far better meals at home than this place could serve. The bills will be taken care of, and you could go eat on your own."

Now Grell looked like she was about to burst. I bit my lip as his nails dugged into my skin harder. He clearly didn't expect Grell to answer back. He was too used to people being submissive to him. Clearly, that was a shock.

"Good sir, you can see that your wife clearly doesn't want to go home! Don't ruin her fun."

That popped a nerve. Now, the abomination wasn't even trying to put up a front, losing inauthentic dignity.

"Listen, you mingler. This is a marital matter, so you better stay out of it. My wife, my rules. She doesn't have to listen to someone like you. Goodness, do you even know whom you're talking to? Come on now, [Y/N]."

He looked at me sharply. I knew what that look meant. I mentally prepared myself for the worse, but I couldn't help my body's intense quivering. The abomination took me by the arm, and we walked out of the cafe as if nothing happened, then I looked back and mouthed "I'm sorry." at Grell. The jolly, frivolous aura had completely left her by then, replaced by an unnatural gravity that looked undoubtedly intimidating to those who would accidentally place their gaze upon her. The insignificant other squeezed my arm and I supressed a yelp.

Hell had awaited me patiently that night in what people of lower status might see as a safe fortress. I would continue not to speak of the disturbing event which took place later that evening in the mansion, for it was too much to bear -- too much to even think about to this day. The only thing I could say was how much I had shamefully wept afterwards, holding the blood-stained clothes I had worn that evening.

The night air nibbled on my skin as streaks of moonlight found its way on the bedroom floor. Almost nude if not for the thin piece of fabric I enclosed myself in, and with limping legs, I traipsed onto the veranda and looked down miserably.

It was compelling to fall to an untimely death; but the latter would only benefit the bastard, and that was not what I wanted.

All those screaming... And yet not a single guard, maid, or butler had given effort to sneak into my room to console me, let alone give just a single glance of sympathy.

Those who had turned blind eyes were just as guilty and filthy as him.

And they would all pay.

I felt eyes on me, the fine hairs on my back standing up. I scanned the area below; there was none looking at me, even when I turned around.

I went to my bed and closed my eyes, trying to sleep. Somehow, I still felt like someone was watching me. But then, it wasn't just a feeling anymore -- I was certain that someone was there, watching me as I struggled to sleep. I could feel their shadow looming over me. My eyes were kept squeezed and shut, afraid that if I opened them, I would meet his sardonic grin, and then his fist hitting my face.

But then the person had caressed me -- had caressed the bruises, the brokenness beyond compare, and their soft touches had almost mended me. If not physicaally, at least mentally. And I knew that the bastard would never do that to me.

My right eye opened to a slit. A brown fabric -- then red hair billowed above it.

Pompous red hair.

I could've just been dreaming, but wished I didn't. I feared that I would never come to a definite answer as I had already fallen asleep. And when I awoke, alone, no evidences were there to support what I believed had happened.

⋆ฺ｡*:･

Two nights after.

That was when I decided to finally put my thoughts into actions. I knew that my husband's mistress would be coming in; I overheard the bastard talking to her the day before. Unfortunately, she would just be an innocent bystander who'd get dragged to the impending accident because of her choice of man. But what did they say? The more, the merrier.

I had dined in the restaurant where I usually spent my lonely evenings before, talking to some other haughty noble ladies. I disliked them fiercely, but they would give me the best alibi, given their lack of sense of time. I had enganged myself in mundane conversations with plenty of them before furtively exiting and going back to the place that was about to become literall hell, choosing an unusual route and making sure that no one else saw me as the usual Lady Everleigh.

I had spread a generous amount of gasoline all across inconspicuous places at the mansion, though particularly at the backyard, leading to the library just right next to the room where the bastard and his mistress would be staying. All that was left to do was to lit the match.

However, when I arrived, something I had never expected greeted me.

There, in the middle, tied up and naked, were the devil himself and his mistress, writhing in agony. They were the only ones conscious. Every guard, butler, and maid, were also tied up, sound asleep and unknowing to the misery that was about to befall them.

A figure emerged from shadows behind the throng of unconscious people, red hair billowing. The abomination widened his eyes and looked at me, having the guts to beg for my mercy.

"I saved the best part for you. They're all yours, partner."

Grell smirked, a flash of sharp, white teeth, feeling just as pleased as I was upon seeing the filths getting what they deserved.

"Oh, I hope you don't mind though. I just couldn't help myself! I had been overthinking -- what if some of those cheap minions escape the fire you had prepared for everyone? That would be a shame, really. Everyone is invited to have fun; why, this is exclusive! They should appreciate your effort, really. Though I admit, walking into imbeciles doing unorthodox things weren't pleasing! Not to mention the lack of passion. Also -- "

I suddenly cut her off by planting my lips against hers, firm and rough, releasing all the built up tension that had formed since the other night. I felt her respond to my kiss, pulling me by the waist closer to her body. She parted her lips for me to enter, my tongue  exploring every inch of her wetness. She began to whine as I dominated her mouth, my hands taking and gripping her wrists. Reluctantly, we pulled away for air, panting and gasping, and for a moment I had almost forgotten that I was supposed to kill tonight, if not for an irritating, stifled whimper.

"Sorry, unfinished business. We'll have to continue later..." I panted. Grell stood behind me, her hands on my shoulders. Then, she handed me a matchbox just as I was about to reach for the one in my pocket.

"Grell, I can't help but wonder... How?" I looked around in awe before facing her. I already had an answer in mind, but I wanted a confirmation.

"I've been watching you, darling. I knew that I couldn't leave you on the hands of a bastard. You're too beautiful for that, didn't I tell you? I was planning to kill them all for you, but I figured that you might want to do the latter yourself. This is the least I can do for you, my little amethyst."

"Oh, Grell... So it was really you. I wasn't imagining things, then."

A blush found its way on my cheeks, remembering the night she had cared for me. Then, just like on that night, she began to caress my cheek. Her thumb made its way to my mouth; I gaped slightly, and her thumb began rubbing circles on my lower lip. I stared at her charteuse eyes through my half-lidded ones.

"Go on, sweetie. Kill them. You can do that for me, hm?"

I nodded, half-dazed at her low whisper. I turned around reluctantly -- I was still relishing the feeling. But it would have to wait.

I couldn't help but smile as the thing I once had called my husband writhed uselessly in fear. He was sweating profusely, trying to say something through the duct tape that was stifling his mouth; meanwhile, his mistress wasn't even moving anymore, just staring vacuously at nothing in particular, already accepting her fate due to her own stupidity.

You got yourself in this mess, you courtesan.

"How does it feel now? Regretting everything you did to me? Has your conscience finally started working? Do you feel bad now? Do you feel bad now that you realize what you've done to me? That those actions of yours created a monster inside me? How do you feel now, you peasant, under me? Can you finally feel what I've felt, all throughout the years that we've been together? Oh, but don't worry! Consider yourself lucky because you're only going to experience the immense fear once; while I had to. Every. Single. Day."

Venom coated my words, and I felt my anger raising up. I had to control myself from running towards the kitchen to get the butcher's knife and start cutting him up like the pig he was. There were so many ways he could die in my hands -- death by asphyxiation, by arsenic poisoning, by thrusting a knife in his anus until he bleeds to death -- hah, the list was endless! Butchering him up came second next to fire. I chose the latter in the end because I felt it would give him more time to get bonkers due to the pain. It would be slow, and excruciating -- perfect.

I began laughing maniacally, my eyes twitching as the euphoric feeling enveloped my entirety. No more of that constant fear. I was finally ridding the earth of yet another monster. I was doing the world a favor by removing this unwanted dirt together with its worms. And I knew, deep in my bones, that this was only the beginning of a vast purge.

"See you in hell."

I said, lighting the match. His whimpers grew louder -- more panicked -- and the mistress seemed to have changed her mind, as she began to twist, her eyes filled with tears. I relished the scene before me. It was fun seeing people get what they truly deserve; though a little detail irked me, I couldn't lie. I wished Grell had left the workers conscious so they would know how it felt to have people watch as you suffer and turn a blind eye on it.

The match was now lit, its flames reflected on their eyes as I walked towards them. By then I was about to drop the match, but took a moment to appreciate the look of despair on their faces. I frowned, trying to mimic their expressions, but laughed, realizing that it was futile -- I couldn't even see their  full expressions! Their mouths were covered in duct tape! Though it would have to stay that way. Being unable to speak must suck, right?

I smiled as I finally dropped the match. Flames began engulfing their desperately struggling figures. The whimpers were much louder now; stifled screams of agony which only gave me serotonin. I watched them burn for a minute or two. They were beginning to get crazy! My eyes lit in anticipation. They were gonna die with their minds unhinged! It was so fun to watch!

At last, I turned my back as the flames grew bigger. Grell and I had walked a bit further from the inferno that I -- no, we -- created. The flames doubled up in size in no time, successfully encircling the mansion. I could see everyone's burnt, dead figures still being consumed by the tangible fury that they had placed upon me. I laughed. And laughed. And laughed. Served them right!

I turned to look at Grell, who was staring at me with adoration. I had been with the devil -- but now, an angel had saved me. Though, she didn't much radiate the aura of an angelic being. She was an enigma, and the aura of death surrounded her.

Death. It was more apt. Death had saved me.

"Now that that's been taken care of, shall we go back to where we left off?"

Before I could answer, she slammed my back against the nearest post, our lips and bodies meeting in a harsh collision. I closed my eyes as this time, it was her who dominated my mouth, her tongue encircling mine, pushing it back as sloppy, wet sounds emanated from the both of us. The tongue-fucking continued until I was once again half-dazed, intoxicated by her sweet taste.

Thank God, for I wasn't wearing a petticoat that evening. I had chosen to wear a relatively thin, green longsleeved dress which had puffy shoulders on it and ruffles in the front. Grell had easier access to my thighs, slipping her delicate fingers underneath my skirt and squeezing my inner thigh, sending shivers down my spine and causing me to let out an uninvited moan which she giggled at. I felt a bulge hit my heated core as she wrapped my right leg around her waist, and this time the moan that I emitted was louder, needier as she created a friction that had enslaved my mind between our sexes.

Grell whined, just as needy as I was. She had then begun marking my neck, unaware of the right spot at first, which was why she had made every bite fiercely, waiting for my reaction until finally, I let out a growl, throwing my head back in pure bliss, both from the way she rutted her sex against mine, and from how tall the flames were now; the mansion was completely engulfed by it, and for certain by then, someone had already noticed it.

"Oh.." I gasped when she wrapped my left leg around her waist, and now that both my legs were around her, she lifted me up and pushed my back further against the post. Grell took my gasp as an opportunity to enter my mouth once more. Sounds of lust mixed with the sound of burning as the new position gave us both a new wave of pleasure. Gnawing on my lower lip, her right hand trailed from my stomach up to my breast, which she began to squeeze. Not too hard, gentle, but not so. Like a creature in heat, I moaned against her lips and squeezed my eyes. It was beginning to grow too hot, the fire was nearing the distance we'd deemed safe before. She pulled away from the kiss, a sliver of saliva connecting our swollen lips.

"Grell... It's getting hot..."

She looked at me with ravenous, wide eyes, a lecherous look on them as she smiled coyly. "Mmh yeah? Take off your clothes for me, darling. I want to see you. All of you."

I panted. She was making it extremely difficult to focus. "G-Grell you misunderstood. It's getting hot... Literally. The flames."

A digit was suddenly put inside my mouth, and then another. It was her index and middle fingers, which she began to thrust inside. Drool slipped from mouth, down to my jawline, and to my neck. Grell licked it off, slowly, almost teasingly. Goosebumps were all over me, and all I could do was whimper with her fingers still thrusting inside my mouth. I glazed my tongue over them, and feeling the action, Grell stopped thrusting and instead focused on circling her digits around my tongue, her working counterclockwise and my tongue going clockwise. Unexpectedly, she pushed her digits further in my mouth, and in return, more drool came gushing out of it.

"Were you saying anything, darling?" She asked through half-lidded eyes, her voice like velvet. A knot formed in my stomach given how ravishing she looked at me at the moment, with the flames blurry behind her attractive figure. A different flame danced in her eyes, one which I had wanted to indulge in every passing moment.

"We're not even halfway through our exuberant time, right, partner?"

Sighing fondly, I gave into the exhilarating feeling vibrating all over my body, with no heed to the physical heat that conquered the darkness of the night, nearing towards us. We still had ample of time before it got too hot to the point of scorching us; in the mean time, we allowed ourselves to indulge in the luxury of succumbing into our desires.

The monster was gone for good. I was safe now; safe in her embrace.

And I would never let go.

[bubblegum-blackwood]

Since I keep seeing stuff about the new adaptation of TVC, I decided to re-watch the old one, so here's my thoughts on Interview with the Vampire (1994) the second time around:

I find it hilarious how book!Daniel was terrified out of his mind the whole time while movie!Daniel has such swagger

Jeez you can tell from the get-go that Brad Pitt hated acting in this. (Meanwhile it's so obvious that Tom Cruise had so much freaking fun. So much.)

I will never forgive the movie for getting rid of Paul de Pointe du Lac in favour of "wah my wife died in childbirth" like I get that that's shorthand for "cis white boy sad" and they only had two hours but STILL

I'll never understand the choice to have the statue’s eyes open. It's just weird lol

i'M QuiTe FoND oF LooKiNG aT CRuXiFiXeS

Why is there more than one coffin, Lestat? WHY IS THERE MORE THAN ONE COFFIN LESTAT -

"Read her thoughts." "I can't." "Eh." That little shruggy hand gesture is everything to me.

(this isn't the one I was talking about, although this is just as good - I can't find a GIF for the quote I chose lol)

Wow. Okay. Forgot about the little "voodoo" ritual Louis's slaves have there. Could have gone without that.

Love the way Louis wields that flaming torch like a rapier. Very elegant, very hot (pun intended).

"We're in a nice, filthy cemetery. Does this make you happy?" fhesiofwne the sass - (btw the above GIF is of this scene)

The smug look Lestat gives when he knows the baby-trapping has worked gosh how does anyone hate on Tom Cruise’s acting he got it DOWN like -

"I prefer Creoles to Yankees, their democratic flavour doesn't suit my palate" why does Lestat have to commit to the French nobleman act this hard? (I know it's not just an act but really he does fill the role perfectly)

THE RUFFLY PURPLE COAT GDOSX

I forgot about Claudia sitting in her bed surrounded by her dolls and casually drawing a naked woman -

GO OFF GIRL! GET IT CLAUDIA! I will never not be impressed with Kirsten Dunst's performance in this. She stole the show. The rage, the coldness, the sophistication, the gleeful cruelty - she nailed it.

The hurt, the betrayal, the slight fear in Lestat's eyes here . . . I will never be over Tom Cruise's acting in this scene.

"He will never let us go." "Oh. Really?" *smirk* Like I said, Kirsten Dunst was amazing in this.

"A beautiful woman with endowments you'll never possess" I literally said "wow" out loud. Holy fuck Lestat that was a low blow.

Hmm floating up against the ceiling while on fire, now where have I seen that before?

As much as I resent the movie depriving us of Louis and Claudia's vampire hunter days, I have to admit that the montage of all of Claudia's sketches was actually a really clever transition.

I saw something once about how clothing tells its own story in IWTV because even though Claudia stays the same she slowly starts dressing more and more like an adult of whatever time period they're currently in and I really do appreciate that detail.

Anne Rice really deprived us of some sexy Spanish lover vampires and it shows with how tantalizing the little glimpse we get of Banderas!Armand is

Ah, the Theatre des Vampires scene. They really nailed the dumb goth drama and I gotta respect this movie for that.

Random woman in the audience being like MONSIEUR VAMPIRE TAKE ME I ADORE YOU if that ain't all of us -

Who else wants to Armand to hug them like this?

"So you have answers?" "So you have questions?" *he responds before Louis is even done talking, maybe a bit too much eagerness in his voice* If Antonio Banderas nailed anything about Armand, it's the thirst.

Damn the way Banderas's wig moves it's so thick and silky and long and *chef's kiss*

I wanna know how historically accurate these costumes are lol

Imagine being Brad Pitt and having to sit in a coffin and scream at a camera that's inches from your face lol

Okay but I love how Louis tips the candles backward into the coffins without even a backward glance

This is not in the movie but I just remembered that canonically the plot of land that the Theatre was on is still under Lestat's name to this day and I love that.

"What if all I have is my suffering? My regret?" *implying that he doesn’t want to move on from it* Damn Louis needs therapy and Armand is not that (because he needs it too lol)

Louis going to the theatre and watching Nosferatu is something I will never be over

Rule number one of being a vampire: always dress well

Louis disturbed a bat and the subtitles said [SCREE SCREE]

Say what you will about how they changed the ending of the movie from the book but Lestat jumping into Daniel's car and just saying "I assume I need no introduction" is iconic okay

[kingdaddydaichi]

can i request consensual hate sex between bakugou and f!reader

Oooooh yassssss! This idea got better and better the more I thought about it, Nonny. Love it! I hope you enjoy this naughty little slice of grudge fuck pie. 💖

Riding The Fine Line 💥 Katsuki Bakugou x f!reader 💥 NSFW

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT or I'll have my Big Scary BoomBoom Man blow your little ass up!

Word Count: 2k

"Oi! Who picked this shitty restaurant anyway?", Bakugou sneered as he walked towards the table.

You rolled your eyes and mumbled, "Oh look, Gorilla Man is here".

"Watch it, shitty girl. M'not in the mood for your shit tonight".

You'd made plans earlier in the week to meet Kiri and Mina for dinner. You knew Bakugou had been invited too, but after having suffered through it so many times over the past year or so of having some friends in common, you somehow managed to tolerate his presence. It helped that the drink you'd been sipping on made him somewhat less intolerable than usual.

It was like nails down a chalkboard every time Bakugou reared his big dumb head. His only redeeming quality was that he was quite easy on the eyes. Shame that such a hot guy is also such a huge asshole.

He's always given everyone a hard time, but unlike most people, you just wave a dismissive hand at him. And it makes him crazy. He doesn’t understand why he doesn’t get under your skin like he so easily does others. Oh, he annoys the piss out of you to be sure, but he doesn't hurt your feelings per se.

"Y'know, for such a massive ego yours sure is delicate, you meat head".

"Oh yeah? Well, for such a massive ass yours s-"

"God, Bakugou, do you ever just shut up?", you snipped.

Kiri and Mina both jumped in, laughing nervously and smoothing things over to lower the tension. He growled at you. You flipped him a subtle bird before looking away and trying to ignore him.

💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥

Kiri's birthday was approaching and several of his friends decided to throw him a surprise birthday party. You, Denki, Mina, and ugh, as luck would have it, Bakugou, were are all put in charge of decorating his house while some other friends took him out for dinner. Midway through, Mina whined while sorting through various sacks, "Oh no! We forgot the disposable rainbow shot glasses!" Mina had a way of putting a cute touch on everything she had her hands in. Denki offered to go with Mina to procure the missing miniature party cups, leaving you and Bakugou alone to hang streamers in Kiri's living room. Probably not the wisest of decisions, but consider the source. 👀

It didn't take long after they were gone for Bakugou to start in on you with his bullshit. Only this time no one was around to referee. You groaned. This was going to be a free for all. You'd already both cut eyes at each other a couple of times.

"You're not doing it right, dumbass!"

"That's a matter of opinion and you can shove yours up your ass, dumbass".

He flipped you off saying, "You can shove this up your ass!", then turned back to his task.

You were so done. Without thinking, you reared back and hurled the roll of streamers as hard as you could, nailing him right in the back of the head. Damn, it felt good.

He whipped around, a vein popping out of his forehead, clenching his teeth. You were quite proud of your aim until he made little explosions in his free hand and said, "You're really pushing your luck with me, woman! If we weren't in Kiri's house right now I'd blast you right through that fucking wall!"

"Pfft, whatever! You wouldn't do shit. You're all bark and no bite, you fucking douche canoe!"

"You ever stop to think that maybe if you weren't such a bitch guys might actually want to talk to you?"

That did it. He'd finally found one of your hot buttons and you couldn't take his shit anymore. You marched right up to him and got right up in his face, height difference be damned.

"You know what, fuck you, Bakugou! I'm not normally like this! You're the only person who…drives me to this madness!", you spat with tears in your eyes.

A second later, his hands were on either side of your face, crashing his lips down onto yours. You were so shocked you froze before pulling away from him, staring at him in astonishment. He just stood there, huffing, glaring back at you, waiting.

You stepped forward and pushed him, his back hitting the wall, hard. But before he could protest, your lips were on his again. He grabbed you by your arms and spun you around, pinning you against the wall. You slipped your tongue past your open mouth, his meeting yours halfway as he pushed his knee between your legs. He pressed his thigh against your sex, shoving his growing cock against your thigh in the process.

Taking the bottom of his shirt into two fistfuls, you eagerly pushed it up to his chest, exposing his washboard abs and god-like pecs. He quickly pulled it over his head and threw it to the floor while your shaky hands got busy with his belt and zipper, urgently, like you couldn't get to him soon enough. But his will took over when he grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head so he could peel your shirt off. He dipped down to take a mouthful of your tit, cupping what he couldn't fit in his rough hand, swirling his tongue around your nipple, sucking, then releasing you from the inside of his mouth to flick the tip of his tongue over your pink nub. You grabbed two handfuls of his ash blond locks and arched your back off the wall as he gave your other breast the same treatment.

You impatiently tugged on his hair, hungry for the taste of his sweet lips again. Your tongues once again fought for dominance and you gasped when he picked you up in one swift movement. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he carried you to Kiri's bedroom, swinging the door shut behind him before slamming your back against it.

"Put me down", you said forcefully.

He stopped sucking on your neck long enough to rasp, "And why the fuck should I?"

"Because I want to get into your fucking pants, asshole".

For once you two agreed on something and with your feet back on the floor, you got back to work on his pants before reaching in and wrapping your hand around his hot dick. Shit, you could barely get your fingers all the way around it, it was so thick. You stroked him a couple of times before pulling him out, exposing his manhood in all of its mouth-watering glory.

He ran his hand down his sculpted stomach, spreading his fingers to either side of his girth. "Like what you see?" You realized you were staring at his dick and the pre that dripped from it.

"Wouldn't you like to know?", you sassed.

He growled and spun you around, pushing your front against the wall and swiftly closing in behind you. Wisps of your (color) hair fluttered around his hot breath as he breathed down your neck. "You keep on tryin' to hide it, but you want me just as much as I want you, princess, and I'm gonna make an honest girl outta ya".

His battle-hardened hands found their way down your back, around your waist and all the way to your belly before he slid them down, his fingers reaching below your waistband. You willed him to push his hands further down, pressing your backside against his erection. He used one deft hand to unbutton your pants and work your zipper down, granting himself better access. When he mercifully slipped his middle finger between your folds, you couldn't choke back the moan that emerged from the back of your throat.

"Damn", he growled behind your ear, "for someone who can't stand me, your pussy sure is wet for me".

"Shut up", you gritted through your teeth.

The feeling of the rough pad of his finger teasing your swollen clit nearly sent you over the edge. But it was short-lived and you whined when he pulled his hand away to shove your pants down around your ankles, accompanied by your damp panties. Your hands slid down the wall as he yanked your ass back towards him. You hung your head and watched the head of his cock as Bakugou fucked your thighs, back and forth over your slit, coating his fat cock with your slick, readying himself.

When he began pushing into you, your legs shook from the sheer pressure as he slowly filled you up. When he bottomed out, he held himself still, at least considerate enough to give you time to adjust to his size. He waited until you started grinding against him before grabbing your hips, and slowly withdrawing.

"Now let's see if I can fuck all that hate for me out of you". Before you could retort, he slammed his cock back into you, your pitiful cry mixed with his loud groan echoing off the walls of Kiri's bedroom. He set his pace, steady and hard, the cold buckle of his open belt pressing into your skin with every crash of his hips.

"Yeah, who knows? Maybe if you'd get your dick wet every once in a while you wouldn't act like one", you quipped, voice faltering as he pounded into you.

He slowed his pace to bend over you, pushing your hair out of the way before biting down on the nape of your neck.

"Oww!! What the fuck?!"

He stood up straight again, laughing and said, "All bark and no bite, hah? You just hadn't pushed me far enough yet!" The sweet and salty mixture of his sweat and your need could be heard with every loud slap of his skin against yours.

"Fuck! Bakugou-", you whined in spite of yourself.

He grabbed a fistful of your hair and gave it a firm tug. "When're ya gonna stop callin' me by m'last name and call me Katsuki instead?"

"When you stop acting like a raging asshole towards me", you managed as he fucked the breath out of you.

"Brave words for someone in such a compromising position. Now - say - my - fucking - name!". Each word came with its very own plunge of his cock into your mess of a cunt.

Your legs started to give out. "Katsuki!" You hadn't meant to obey him, but he'd kept his word and made you honest.

"That's better". You could hear the smirk in his voice after hearing his first name fall from your quivering lips.

You turned to face him when he pulled out, kissing him hard, his fingers going into your hair. You inched backwards onto the bed, Katsuki crawling in towards you with a primal look in his crimson eyes before nestling his thighs between yours and sheathing himself deep inside you again. Your head rolled back as you arched your back off the bed. Gods, the feeling of him filling you up was quickly becoming your new favorite sensation.

He nuzzled his face against your neck as he rutted into you, pulling your thigh up to his hip bone, raking his teeth against your skin. His breathing had become more labored and he started thrusting faster, your pleasure mounting with the increased friction of his pubic bone against your clit until rays of bliss shot out from every pore of your skin at the speed of light.

"K-ka-tsuki, I'm c-cumming hahh oh goddd!" The pulsating grip that you had on him finally sent him to his end as well, growling your name and cursing between clenched teeth, burying himself deep inside you as he unloaded rope after thick rope of his white hot cum into your snug, soft warmth.

"Seems Shitty Hair’s gonna get more than one surprise tonight", Katsuki said, catching his breath.

You laughed so hard that Katsuki hissed at the feeling of your walls squeezing his sensitive cock so soon after his orgasm.

"You still hate me?", he asked, brushing his lips against yours, supporting his weight with his elbows.

"Hmm...that depends", you said thoughtfully, tracing the cut of his back muscles with your fingertips.

"On what?"

"On whether or not you'd still fuck me if I don't hate you".

He smirked. "I'd still hit it even if you love me", he whispered, showing his softer side as he kissed you, smiling.

[jjkpls]

the wishlist (m) - 6 (final)

“Was it worth it?”

> genre : smut, angst, fluff

> pairing : jeon jungkook x reader (f)

> words : 15k (ugh sorry)

> content/warnings : back at it again w/ the bff2l; one sided love, LOTS of pining; sextoys talk and use; explicit language; explicit description of sex; phonesex; masturbation (f); dirtytalk; alcohol drinking; dubcon exhibitionism; ambiguous infidelity

previous - masterlist

There's a lot of forgetting to get done. It wasn't the plan to get drunk. Maybe you should have known better than to confide the slightest about your heart and its aching to your two girlfriends. Because they don't have much of a solution to present you with. You meant to ask of them to divert your mind, make you laugh, feed you so much you'd fall into a food coma and wouldn't be able to think about anything else but sleep. Eventually, share their own dramas of the moment (they always have some) to get you so invested in their shits you wouldn't be thinking about your own.

You made the mistake of sharing, with probably too much preponderance in your tone, that Jungkook was back with his girlfriend.

Without any context clues -they didn't even know that he was single for approximately four days-, they knew. You're not that complicated to read when it comes to him. Only he seems to not get it.

You still remember the first time they found you out. They had a sense that something was up with this kid, that there couldn't just be a platonic, decade-old friendship based on nothing spicier than the tteokbokki you'd cook for him every now and then.

They only started believing, with utter incredulity, that it was true when they saw you, and him, and his girlfriend. All at the same time, sitting around the same table, there was no doubt left. No reason to believe that there's something unsaid existing. They saw your eyes though. The shine they gain whenever you'd be looking at him, laughing hard with all his teeth out, and the glassy look they took on whenever they'd catch a gesture, a touch that was meant only for Jiyeun.

You've never really gone into details. You've never ranted over the feelings, over him, everything that made him the one person for you. They saw you cry over him though, one drunken night, and it was enough to make them understand how deep you were in.

And perhaps it's your fault, that you wouldn't sort of train them to be the better friends they wish to be to you. They don't know what to say, what to do to console you. You don't even know what you need. Really, all you know, it's that you didn't feel able enough to take care of your tormented heart and mind alone tonight.

You are to blame if they dragged you to this bar, with the music too loud and the people too numerous, bumping their hips to yours attempting to coarse you into dancing. You hate every second of it. Every element that was supposed to distract you, help you forget, feel better, served as annoying distractions. You could picture yourself, dipped in a scorching hot bath, with a bowl of ice cream, weeping your eyes out like in the most cliche, most dramatic breaking down of your life. And it felt right, in your mind anyway, a thousand times better than this.

"Here!" Like the good girl that you are, you accept the shots. Min sets one in each of your hand and stares over the rim of her own glass, expecting. You roll your eyes. Swallow them down in one go and she yells, arms in the air, jumping like the night has just been made.

At least, she's entertained. Dancing her life away, kind of wilding out with too much energy, having to apologize every few seconds for knocking someone with an elbow or slapping another with her ponytail.

"Look, who's here!"

Your heart skips a beat then. Until you follow Mary's finger who's pointing rudely at Park Jimin. Park Jimin as in Jeon Jungkook's Park Jimin, one of his closest friends. He's dressed in all black, tight leather pants clawing to his legs, silk shirt half unbuttoned, perched on heeled Chelsea boots, dark black hair gelled back.

For a second, you worry, stupidly, if your friend is not going to appear, emerging from the thick crowd, carrying a drink, catching your eyes in the room. That's another thing you wouldn't need right now: seeing him. When you're in this weird state of sadness, guiltiness, of hopelessness and confusion. You'd probably be a mean bitch again. He doesn't deserve that.

For some time, you're just watching Jimin, being Jimin, dancing languorously, flashing smiles and winks so naturally; making everyone uncomfortable just because he's so attractive and so talented at catching people's attention and making them want him. It's just Jimin, hoeing out, as always. No Jungkook ever appears next to him. And while you sort of spy on him, there are the two dumb bitches next to you, drooling over him. Commenting about his ass, the way he moves his hips and how tight he seems to be in his pants.

"You should have fallen for him, dude!" It's the pinch to your arm that drags you back to the conversation, lets you know that you're the one Min is addressing. "What?" Your brain is already a bit slow. You haven't eaten much before leaving, drunk not much but too fast and forming intelligible sentences, translating your thoughts in their entirety is not a task easily doable at the moment. You meant to say something about how ridiculous they sound. About how it doesn't make any sense. About Jungkook and the things you feel for him, and the way you fell and how even when you suffer, like in this instance, you wouldn't change your heart because it's him, and only him, has been and might as well always be.

Why would you fall for Park Jimin?

"Jimin, you'd just ask him to fuck you and he'll do it."

"You can see he's a very generous slut."

It makes you wince. They're being fucking weird. Obnoxious, in their way of ogling him and quite disgusting talking about him. There's a smirk on the corner of Jimin's mouth and you wonder if maybe he's noticed them and is enjoying it. They don't mean to be offensive, you suppose, but they're still rude as hell.

"Useless Jungkook could never!"

Either you knock your friend out with your newly filled up glass or you drink it and attempt to swallow along your rage and that strange feeling that the open shirt Jimin is wearing has raised in you.

"Don't you wanna try him?" The question is absurd. You don't try people in general. But you'd never, ever, even think about trying someone as close as he is to Jungkook.

What the actual fuck?

"Fine! Don't give me those eyes!" Your brain and face connection is not that great at the moment that you'd know precisely what Mary is referring to. Soon after frowning and pouting through a sip of her drink, she's leaving, straight for the less crowded part of the bar, where people are dancing, where Jimin is showing off.

She needs less than thirty seconds to have him wrapped around her. Min is howling at your side like it's such an exploit. You don't want to bad mouth on your friend but it is, indeed, Jimin. Manwhore Jimin. And just like that, just because she walked in his vicinity, whispered something quickly to him, maybe just a simple greeting and a reminder of who she is, your friend, in case he couldn't make her out, and he's holding her tight, dancing, more like grinding against her, to her greatest pleasure, face buried in her hair, he seems to be uttering things directly in her ear. You catch her fingers reaching for the wide opening of his shirt, brushing against that tattoo you know to be there under his breast but have never gotten to really decipher, and he's leaving kisses on her shoulders. The next thing you see is his wide, wolf-like grin, now aiming straight at you.

You startle, almost let your glass shatter to the ground from the surprise. That seems to make him laugh. He waves a hand quickly your way and for some reasons, it sends a sudden flaming flush to your cheeks. That guy is such a cunt-tease, he's awful. No wonder people talk so crudely about him.

"I need to get plastered." You mumble, probably not loud enough for Min, whose arm you're dragging along on your way to the bar, to hear.

You may have thought, for a split second, of a fantasy. You may have reshaped the scene taking place in front of you to make it more suitable to you, to make it as self-indulgent as you could. With you replacing Mary, with Jungkook replacing Jimin. She made it seem so easy and for the briefest of moments, it felt like it was realisable. As if the only step missing, the only thing making it not real yet, is the first step, the one Mary took by just walking up to him and asking him to dance, maybe for you to be his for a while.

Then Jimin looked over, with his dark eyes and pretty luscious lips, his very sexy aura and everything that makes him him, and it all felt down to the ground. That's ridiculous.

That would never work.

Maybe hot men with the most endearing hearts that you really desire are not to be seduced by you. It just wouldn't happen. Jungkook would never, as she said. What a shame.

You should have fallen for someone easier like Jimin. He's not one person's man, that's for sure, but at least, he would have been great at pretending to be yours for a moment.

Now you really need to get drunk.

There's pure guilt boiling in the pit of your stomach. Because you've never denied your feelings for Jungkook. He deserves them. He deserves to be loved by everyone. Deeply and passionately. And no matter how true, how pure, how intense those feelings are, he never owes to reciprocate, does he? And here you are, greedy stupid little you, sad and angry because of course, he couldn't love you back like that. Not when there's fucking Jiyeun in the way. Jiyeun or any fucking one else, right?

He's not making it easy for you. Everything he does is making your life harder. As if it wasn't enough on its own already.

Everything he does.

Like buying you these fucking toys you need a science degree to operate.

Sort of.

Maybe you don't need a science degree. Maybe a sober head would be enough to make a toy you've never used before function.

You don't have that at the moment. You're in your favourite pyjamas - an extra-large, greyed by time tee-shirt you stole from Jungkook back in high school - and panties - because it sounded like way too much effort to find shorts or joggings and slip them on. You've managed, somehow, you don't even remember doing it, to make your bed all cosy and welcoming, a perfect backrest made of your fluffiest pillows.

The little toy, this orange thing, sort of shaped like a fat bunny, a big, rounded body with two straight little ears, pointed upwards. It's supposed to be fully charged. It's been disinfected. It's just waiting for you to use.

Except it's the last one Jungkook had bought for you, you didn't get to use it yet, to even turn it on once, nor read its instructions. And here you are, past two am, trying, with your sloppy brain, your blurry eyes, and your impatient cunt, to understand how it works. There's an app linked to it. This much you got from the big, unmissable QR code occupying the first page of the three-page long manual that your eyes won't read.

You picked up your phone, went through the violent burning of your eyes when the screen lit up too close to your face, scanned the code, installed the app and here you are, stuck.

The app won't let you turn the fucking toy on. There's a message that keeps coming up every time you try to link the app to the toy. But the message is written in grey, on white, and you can't see shit and you don't have the patience to decrypt it. Maybe if you close it, and try running it again, and try scanning the code again, and just click on the button that appears under the message, whatever it says, maybe it'll work.

Except it doesn't. After a certain number of times (keeping up with the counting is another thing you can't do well right now) the app keeps on being a bitch. Keeps being difficult and reluctant, and unwilling to let you fucking get off and go to sleep.

You're on the verge of tears.

Why would it be so fucking difficult to make a fucking sex toy work?

Why?

You're so annoyed and impatient and angry now and it's all Jungkook's fault anyway.

You can't try to go to sleep, no matter how tipsy you are, because your brain is filled up with this asshole and won't let you alone. You can't fuck yourself to sleep because the toy you've picked - and for totally irrational reasons you feel like you can not switch to another one - won't let you and it's his. His fucking present. Fucking poisoned gift.

He makes everything worse. Everything difficult. And the more your eyes fill up with frustration tears, the more you're reminded that he's also the answer. He's the worst and the best part of your existence.

Of course, you'd call him.

"I could be sleeping." His voice is light and clear. He wasn't any close to be asleep. He's probably gaming or something. You're so thankful for his voice, the lovely thing, the comforting thing, that you don't even get mad at his aforehand teasing.

"Jungkook-" It's not a call of his name. It's a whine, almost a lament at this point. Tiny high tone, overly dragged vowels. Something like Juunggooo, and he must recognize the tone straight away because he starts laughing in your ear. You bite on your bottom lip hard, almost draw blood, squeeze your fist over your heart, as if it could help it handle it better.

You love him, you love him, you love him.

"Went out with the girls?" You hum as an answer. "Had a little too much fun, sweatheart?"

"No fun at all."

He's laughing again. His sly, mocking chuckle. He's too himself for you to get mad at him. He's too cute when he sounds boyish and happy like that.

"No fun?" He's having fun, it's hearable. It might be because you sound like a dumb, whiny kid. "Why is that?"

"Just cause." He hums like he understands. You hear mockery in it. He sounds a bit distant. As if he's not totally paying attention, as if you're really a four-year-old kid rambling some non-sense after school and their parent just barely pretends to be interested. "Junggooo, I'm trying to have my fun now but your thing is being mean to me."

"What thing?" He's definitely doing something else. He speaks a bit slow, you can picture his gaze far from you. And of course, it'd be, he couldn't even see you even if he tried. It's still vexing. He really doesn't want you to have him all for yourself. Why not fucking Jimin?

"The orange bunny you got me." You explain patiently, pouting a bit. You try your best not to have your vexation be too loud but it's hard. "I tried the app but it won't let me."

"The orange-" You hear it when the gears click. He even gasps a bit. You kind of brought it up out of nowhere when you accommodated him with your constant complains and fights pretty much each time he wanted to talk about this subject. And here you are, opening up a conversation on one of them. You kind of get where the shock is coming from. "Oh, the Gala thing." He even knows its name. "What- How isn't it working?"

"The app says I'm too drunk to use it." You quetch, glaring at the toy laying flat on its back next to you. The asshole.

"The app says what?"

"Jeon Jungkook! Are you even listening to me?" Hysteria was to be expected. Because here you are sad and drunk and horny and highly frustrated and it seems he keeps making you repeat everything. And of course, he would because he can't give you his undivided attention now, can he? Because he's not a generous slut like Park Jimin, he's a useless prick. And if he keeps being one, and he keeps upsetting you, you promise to yourself, as an act of self-love and self-respect, you'll tell him he should be better, he should be more like Park Jimin.

"I am, baby, but I'm confused."

Except he doesn't need any bettering, does he?

It's like he's heard your thoughts. Like somehow, even with the distance separating your two apartments, he's been able to read them directly on the lines of your heart. He knows what you need, the soft and gentle and tender Jungkook who takes care of you, the one that doesn't show often, especially now that you don't really go out and get pissed off drunk together, now that you don't expose the sad episodes you might have to him in fear of being precisely confronted to this perfect torture. Maybe he heard your mind calling Park Jimin's name too many times and he tries to ensure his position. You almost tell him not to bother. That it was just a taunt, it's always him, just him, will ever be.

"What does the message say?"

"That I'm too drunk and stupid to use it."

"I don't think that's what's written, baby."

"But-" You're seriously going to cry in a second. You don't even know from what. The app really succeeded in hurting your feelings by not working for you and he keeps calling you baby, it makes your whole inside boil and scorch like a puddle of lava. "It's invisible letters, how am I supposed to read exactly?"

"If you can't read maybe you should just go to bed for now, hm? Figure it out tomorrow."

"No, now." Full brat mode is on. You know if only he was sitting next to you, you would have raised a hand to pinch him right on the back of his upper arm -where it really stings. It works usually. You don't hurt him, the guy is basically made of muscles, he's the kind of work out junkie that's enjoying the pain. He wouldn't fucking mind your tiny attempt of an attack, no matter the amount of anger and frustration powering it.

By telephone though, it's even harder to make him do something. Possibly undoable. The only weapon that you have is your annoying screeching voice. "You fix it! You bought this shitty thing so you fix it."

"I forgot how rude you get when you're drunk." He's still making fun of you. Not taking you that seriously.

"Jungkook, I'm seriously going to cry." The worst part is that you mean it. If regular menaces won't do, surely affection blackmailing should be more effective.

"Don't cry, it's fine. I'll check. Don't hang up."

As if. You did not plan on hanging up. Ever. You've decided.

It's too nice, cuddled up in your bed, with his voice, smooth and soft, saying words that you really like, like baby, in your ear. You've decided this moment won't ever stop.

"Junggoo-"

"One second, baby." You don't have one fucking second. You don't have any fucking second to spare him. When he's made you horny and lonely and longing for so fucking long. Why would you spare him any more? He takes too long. The time he takes, you prophet, will precisely be the time your vagina will need to dry out entirely.

Even his soft voice calling you baby won't serve to make you wet again.

That's a lie.

It makes you groan. Asshole, asshole, asshole.

"Oh." Your ears perk up. He's back with you, his voice closer than before, it seems, when he starts explaining, a hint of guilt shadowing his tone. "Sorry, it's my fault."

"Of course, it is." You mumble, face deep in your pillows. "Jungkook! Everything's your fault, always." You're probably being unfair. Or maybe not. Is he responsible for making you fall for him or are you to blame for doing so? Turns out, it doesn't really matter, because he doesn't even pay attention to the blatant, telling, honest truth you've just spurred.

"When I received the package I tried it once."

"Tried?" Did he really? The cute little bunny-shaped thing you'd dismissed earlier, cursed at and threw daggers at suddenly looks different to you. You want to pick it up and maybe place a kiss on the top.

"Wait- Not like that! I didn't actually try it! I don't have a fucking clit, what-"

"You just said that!"

"I meant, I tried turning it on and linking it with the app, just to see how it worked. Like the options on the app."

"Oh." Makes more sense.

"Anyway, it's not working for you because I used my email with it and you can only have one." So many words. God. "I have to invite you. Or delete my account and then you make one with your QR code."

You turn into the whiniest, most irritating little thing then. Just a jumble of dramatic cries, something almost sorrowful because your issue appears impossible to deal with. It's not that complicated. He explained it. Too many words, too much thinking, too much paying attention, too much to do and too much delay. How does he expect you to do it when you can't even read the invisible font of the app?

"Fucking invite me then."

"Watch your mouth." It makes you roll your eyes. It's not the first time he says that. He says with this menacing growl at the end. Like he means it. Like he's really threatening you. But no matter how far you go, no matter how many times you curse at him, he never acts on it. You want to tell him, you almost do, to stop promising you things he won't ever give you. There's a ping coming from your phone. With a bit of a struggle, you manage to put the speakers on, so that he doesn't leave too far whilst you take a look at the message. A link to click on. Not that hard, it's bright blue, unmissable. It leads you back to the bitchy app.

Now it's all nice to you. It lets you enter, presents even a picture of your own toy, congratulates you for being linked to it and to Jungkook's account. Of course, it would. Now that it knows you're friends, now that he's in the thing, this bitch of an app is being nice.

There are a lot of symbols, every-fucking-where. Some wavier than others. One is shaped like a music note. Some are just little constellations of dots. You click somewhere, just to try and see if anything happens and it does.

Suddenly, the bunny is brought to life and starts purring furiously on the bed. It startles you, looks a bit intimidating. It sounds angry and complicated with all of these fucking options. At least the other toys he's gotten for you had at most two buttons, one to turn it on and off, and the other one to regulate the three levels of intensity.

You might actually need a science degree to use that. Simply to adjust it so it's not attacking you when you turn it on.

You press another button. The setting changes instantly. It starts vibrating in a jerkier way instead of one straight line of frequency.

Tentatively, you grab it, sort of unimpressed and dubious as to the way this would feel good on you. You've already grown grudges against it. It needs to impress you, prove to you that it's worthy of the effort and of you even bringing it to your precious temple.

It sucks at convincing you. You've brought it to your panties and tee covered crotch, pressed it there, waiting, and it doesn't do much. It vibrates. Weirdly. It stops and goes again, in a pattern you don't understand and it doesn't do much for you. Doesn't turn you on, doesn't make you wet. Doesn't stimulate in any positive way.

You reach for your phone with one hand, trying to keep the other one holding it against you, and it's here that the whole thing fucks up for the last time you can tolerate.

How are you supposed to fucking do that?

Don't they understand that? The people that make those fucking things? That they're going to be used mostly by single people, with a single pair of hands? How are you supposed to manage holding it up where you need it, whilst simultaneously, hold your phone up (everyone fucking knows holding a phone up with one hand, and tap on the fucking screen, especially laid in bed, is impossible and the worst fucking idea one could have - except if getting a black eye is the project) and control the intricate dashboard.

"For fuck's sake!"

"What is it?" Jungkook is sighing heavily in your room. And for a second, you're startled almost off of your own bed. You managed to forget he was even still here, on the other line, apparently waiting patiently for- for what exactly? Maybe for you to wish him goodnight and hang up. You literally forgot he was here. You were about to get yourself off -if only this shitty thing wasn't so shitty- whilst he was still here on the phone.

Why doesn't it mortify you?

"How am I supposed to use my phone and the thing at the same time? Why- How? Jungkook!"

"Stop saying my name like that!" You don't ask because you know exactly how you're saying it. There's no proper balance in your tone tonight. Either you're whining his name like a desperate brat, either you're pestering it like a disappointed, aggravated mom.

"I'm going to cry." You say again, lying this time. You've already started. It's not a lot yet. Just a puddle of tears, in each of your eyes that are just about to spill, and the prickling sensation at the tip of your nose, the latter has already starting sniffling uncontrollably.

"Why?" He sighs again. This time, it's gentler. He might have just found the key to the secret safe holding the very last drops of indulgence he hides deep inside his kind heart. "Baby, the app is really for couples."

"But I'm not a couple, I just wanna cum."

"Y/N-" He chokes on your name. "There are buttons on the toy for you to use. You don't have to use your phone, okay?"

"You're lying."

"Why would I be lying? Look! There are fucking buttons."

There are, indeed. But they suck, you think. You do try them. Pressing on them while you stretch your arms out to keep the bunny's ears close to your covered clit. It's so much work. You don't get it. The buttons are hard to press on, when you manage to activate the little monster, it just jabs against your centre, falls over from your hand. You hate the jerking motion, try to change it because clearly, it won't do. It doesn't work. The buttons suck, the toy sucks and Jungkook is cursing at you instead of helping.

"What do you want me to do? Baby, I'm- Just go to bed."

You hate that he's telling you to go to bed, again. He's probably right. You're being a pain, an embarrassing one at that. You can't just go yet, though. First of all, the very reason you called in the first place, for him to make it so you can fuck yourself to sleep, has not been effectively resolved. And on top of that, the very resolution you took earlier, the one of never hanging up, of never drawing a period to this moment, won't let you.

"This one sucks ass."

"It doesn't." He sounds calm, a bit quiet, tone low and collected. You wonder if he'd dropped whatever he was doing, whatever distraction and laid in bed like you, to listen and talk to you only. That would be nice. You're annoying as hell, poor him, he deserves better, but you're thankful for him.

"It's stabbing, how can it be nice?"

"You just- I don't even know why I'm arguing with you. You're drunk."

"Am not, you are."

He scoffs, doesn't bother insisting. He exhales deeply. You sigh as deep. Your lids are heavy. Your brain is fuming too. Your head feels fuzzy. You could sleep right now. You might make a terrible night. You might have nightmares. You might wake up in a few hours, hot and very bothered, frustrated and on edge. There's a little ping messing with an edge of your eyebrow. You know it'll grow into a headache soon.

"Junggoo..." You whimper as if he could help you. As if he's the key to this headache, to lock it away, along with the rest of your tormented feelings.

"You're tired, baby." He comments. You would bite if you were in front of him. He really wants to send you to bed. "Just go to sleep."

You should. Given that you need a good five minutes to find the energy to open your mouth and mumble, "Don't wanna."

"Then what is it that you want?"

"Told you."

"Hm?" You're not saying it again. You could fall asleep right now. With his slow breathing in your ear. It sounds so lovely. Feels like you've never been this nicely enveloped. It's like those ASMR or lo-fi music compilation videos on YouTube. The ones with the short scene, often animated, playing on the screen. It's instant peace, instant chill, purely quiet, greatly pleasant. You love these sceneries. You even have a few printed on your wall. They are great to look at and try to project in, because it seems you could never create this feeling, this atmosphere in real life.

But you've reached it. Now. The perfect peaceful land. With the perfect soundtrack coming through your phone. You're comfy and warm, it's almost as if he was actually there with you, wrapped behind you, stroking your hair. God, you wish he was there stroking your hair and kissing the top of your head. But he's not here. And why? He should be here. If he can be on the phone with you, when he used to come over to make sure the blanket is nicely tucked under your chin, why can't he be here? Life's so unfair.

"What was that?" He's probably referring to the big loud thump, throwing his toy to the ground made. It's not its fault. Even if it hurt your feelings, it's not responsible for him not being yours. Or maybe it is. He wouldn't give you toys if he were yours. He wouldn't need them. That's probably why Jiyeun doesn't like them. Because she wants him to be all that's pleasuring her. The lucky lucky bitch.

"Your stupid toy."

"Don't- do you know how much it cost?"

"Never told you to buy it."

"Sure, but don't break it! I promise it's good. You can't-"

"It stabbed me!" You accuse, petty.

"You- are insufferable." He sounds about done. Except he's not because he seems to want to prove you wrong, still. The toy on the ground starts shaking back to life. Curiously, you roll on your belly, throw a glance to the ground. It's stirring, moving around slowly, getting closer to you as if it's trying to hop back up on the bed. "Pick it up."

You do as you're told. It's vrooming lightly, quieter than you expected. You can hardly feel it in your palm. The movement more noticeable from the timid sound than by the intensity.

"Oh. It's nice now." Maybe it does have a conscience. It's being all sweet and mellow because the remote is in Jeon Jungkook, international heartthrob's hands.

"See?"

It's really gentle. It turns cute. With its bright orangy-red shade, its two cute ears and its belly, a bit domed to allow a better grip.

Your hand has a mind of its own. If he were to ask about it, to demand an explanation, even when you'll come later, and wonder mad and revolted and half dying of embarrassment, what the fuck came over you, you'd blame it all on your hand. The appendix and its own personal free will are bringing the thing back to your crotch. "You can switch the intensity, it was just at the highest before." You're hardly aware of Jungkook still talking in your ear. The phone on speaker is still laying on the pillow next to you and he's selling it to you, while demonstrating, as if he's signed a sponsorship with the brand. It could be funny but you don't really care, more curious about The Gala and finally getting to know it.

Soon enough you realize that two layers of clothing, no matter how thin, are too much. You lift the hem of his tee, exposing your panties and the lines of your mound, showing through the tissue. It makes sense then, the shape of the thing. It has those two straight ears, or poles, with enough space in between, to tuck your clit comfortably. If you'd like. And you're not sure it won the privilege just yet.

For now, it'll have it but still over your panties. They're so flimsy that really the fitting isn't too far from its initial conceptualized use. "And the modes- see," It's jerky again. It goes for a couple of beats very quick short pulses and then there's a long, monotone one until the pulses come back again. You don't like that one. It's gentler than the one from earlier, that tried to attack your clit with an angry strong beating though. "You can just switch. If you don't like the fast pulses, you don't have to use it. You just try it out." You guess he's right. You just have to try it, tame it. Learn its functions and let it learn you. Probably. Sounds like a lot of work though. The other ones were really straight forward. Good, excellent for some - special shout out to the clit hoover, which is not actually vacuuming but blowing air, which made you cum so fast and so hard in the very first two minutes of trying it. You'd turn it on and it'd do the job. Next to your ear, rambling like a radio you'd forget to turn off in another room, Jungkook is explaining how there are dozens of preset patterns and an infinite amount of slots for personal creations.

It's okay. Sounds like it would do the job. You can already tell how you'll use it if you ever decide to give it a second chance after tonight. Pressed tight against your button, turned a bit higher, in a very basic, very classic constant monotone vibration.

He's switched it to another stabbing like pulsing, very fast and aggressive, you can tell they meant to imitate the pattern of a good pounding but it does little to nothing to your excitation. Really all it does is make your eyebrows frown and your premise of a headache is back. "Hate that one."

"Change it." Kindly, he complies. Another one. You can't really identify it. Maybe a slower thrusting. It's better than the last one simply because it doesn't nearly hurt. Doesn't do much good either. But maybe it's not doing much over your panties though therefore curiously, with eyebrows furrowed now in concentration, you lift the waistband up with a finger and slip the bunny under it. Tentatively, you try to set it nicely where it should be resting, your clit out in the open, hugged tightly by the two ears replacing your lips. It's kinda nice. Barely though.

"So is-"

"Wait, turn it up a bit. I can't even tell what that's doing." You mumble maybe a tiny bit petty, a bit bad faith remaining from the bad impression the toy gave you. It's not that you want to hate because you've decided you would. It's more intricate than that. You're too tipsy to even try and explain that though.

"That one is-" After a while, doesn't do much. The higher setting, you suspect he hasn't gotten up a lot, hardly helps. It does vibrate but it doesn't seem to reach enough, your clit hardly feels anything. Your electrical toothbrush from your horny teenage years used to do a better job at being a vibrator -and this even over your jeans.

You're this close to throwing it to the ground again and give up on it, once and for all. Jungkook would need to understand. It's not because he spent a lot on it, it's not because that strange lady he keeps mentioning insisted on its good, that you are forced to appreciate it. You don't see the fucking point of this one. It does look cute and expensive but is pretty much useless. No one needs a pretty, expensive but awful friend.

"It sucks."

For a few seconds, he doesn't say anything. You consider that he might have even hung up. But then, in the quiet, his voice too serious for him not to have taken what you said personally breaks out. "You're mean."

"I think- I think it's a good opportunity to decide- uh..." The toy is still active in your panties, under your palm. The realization slowed your process of thought for a second but the bigger conclusion that it brings is that really, it sucks. So bad you even forgot it was still on -and it's not you being too drunk to have a fully, 360 awareness of your body, honestly. "To decide collectively that you need, you have to stop buying me those."

"They're not all bad! You loved the other ones!" He accuses, apparently not up for the collective decision. You are probably made of confusion at this point. How many more does he feel the need to get you? Is it that great, that gigantic, that tragic of a frustration that he developed by his girlfriend not liking these that he feels the need to bury you alive with thousands of those? The secretive shelf at the bottom of your dresser already holds little to no place left for another pretty box. And as to the satin bag you use to store the toys themselves, in your bedside table's drawer, you can't even close it anymore.

"When have I ever said that? We talked about one, I said it's fine."

"That's not what you said." Honestly, right now, you have no idea what you said. You know that you didn't find great easiness in talking about them. You've never mentioned any and he never did either, apart from the very first one. You did say something positive about it, you think you can recall. "I don't listen to you anyway because I know how bad of a liar you are."

"Well great. Blatantly admitting you don't care about my feelings-"

He bursts out in laughter. You might be a little bit of a drama queen right now. The hand that is not holding the bunny against your mound -for reasons you don't care to address to yourself, probably for you being so lazy that it feels more like an effort to change your hand's doing, take out and put away the toy, rather than just leave it there quiet and not really bothering- did reach for your chest, in a very theatrical embodiment of an offence.

"That's not what I said, you brat."

"That's what I heard though."

"I said I don't trust your mouth when the rest of you is saying something else entirely." You roll your eyes. Hopefully loud enough for him to hear it on his side of the call. "It's my new passion." He starts, giggling like an idiot. "I won't stop for as long as orgasms will look this good on you."

Oh. My God.

Is he allowed to say that? Is he allowed to say shit like that with the most calm you've ever heard anyone speak with? Like it's normal. Like it's a simple fact. Like the word orgasm in itself isn't so foreign in his mouth. Somehow he makes it sound incredible, so delicious you feel the first proper impulse to your pussy.

"You've never seen it." You counter, uneasy, feeling somehow unbalanced and unprepared against what is probably a simple conversation to him but a real personal attack with too great of weapons to you.

"I've seen the aftermath. I told you already." You wish he'd be more explicit. His words are confusing. They're not telling enough. They can be so much, they might not mean anything. He speaks softly, tranquilly, almost whispers in your ear. It's simply late. It's more appropriate, it feels, to speak quietly like that. It's one of those midnight talks.

He wouldn't know whenever he is seducing you. He's doing it constantly without meaning to. It's just him being himself and you being too weak for him. How could you make out his intentions now?

"You really-" The toy twitches in your hand. He clicked on the switch button of his app again. You're not sure why. From the way he speaks, he might not even have realised. He might be playing with the thing, mindlessly, the way he does when he picks at the skin of his fingers when he talks. He must be because he's still in his own head, talking while the thing, the barely interesting thing, turns into something else. Entirely. It's a wave-like pattern. Growing from pure stillness to a slow, growing vibration that ends in an intense climax. You gasp. He doesn't seem to hear. "You really don't want me to get you any more?"

The second wave hits. "Oh- God."

"I mean- I thought, we were- that it was okay." The sensation is incredible. For some reasons, a technology you don't fucking understand, you wouldn't fucking understand now, every single build hits insanely hard. Each time as intense if not better. You're so close to moaning. If you haven't really taken a second to realize what you were doing, actually using the toy with him on the phone, without him even knowing, somehow you know you need to remain quiet. You can't moan out loud. You sigh loud though. You have to. "I swear with you it's so hard to tell-" It's so hard to keep quiet and the realization brings a grin to your face. You're not that vocal usually. Sometimes you are, with some of the surprisingly good sessions Jungkook's presents have been offering you. But it was conscious. It was you enjoying, wanting to build a bigger pleasure, make it more sensational, it turned you on a bit, you had to admit, to hear yourself. The pleasure the toy is bringing you right now is indescribable. The more you leave it pressed to your clit, the more you feel the heat grow. You know it's already too much. You hiss and sigh, and have to bite back moans each time the high top of the wave comes. It's too much and feels like not enough.

The greedy you would want the final hit of the wave to last longer than those very few seconds. Long enough to bring you there, make you fall over the top of the hill. But it's a teasing setting. Probably programmed specifically for overstimulation. You squirm and bite back whines each time it comes, flinch and have to fight to not tear the ears away because you know the sensation is a lot to handle, too much stimulation, yet you're already addicted, unable to act on the very fair, logical, and sensible decision you should make. You shouldn't even be pleasuring yourself with him on the fucking phone.

"Are you okay?"

Jungkook asks, after having stopped talking altogether for a minute too long but it's not like you were really in any state of mind to acknowledge it.

You don't think he's noticed yet. From the noise, hopefully little, that you were making, at most, he should be able to hear some sort of short breathing, for all you know, he might think nausea is visiting from all the alcohol you've consumed and you're heaving, on the verge of throwing up.

"You're not feeling well, Y/N?" It's his concerned tone. The serious one. The one he uses whenever there's no skip button to the conversation. Usually, it leads to him coming over to take care of you like he's your mother. Which sounds great in theory but doesn't always apply wonderfully in practice.

Sometimes you don't want him to see you looking green and gross from fever sweat; sometimes you just want to be alone and recover on your own without having him watching so dramatically concerned over your shoulder. And now, you wouldn't want him to burst in with your hand still in your panties, a sweaty, bothered, horny mess for him to be left shocked and possibly disgusted by. Maybe disgusted is a big word. Or maybe it's not. How inappropriate is it to masturbate with an unknowing friend on the other end of your phone? Is it even legal?

"I'm fi-fine, Jungkook." You lie through gritted teeth. You can't possibly be fine. You've put yourself in the worst situation and you still don't do shit to get out of it. Something is very much wrong with you.

The logical thing to do, the sensible one, would be to either end the conversation, hang up and then eventually finish yourself; or else, take the thing out of your panties, possibly throw it the further away from you and keep the conversation on if that's what you wish to do.

It would certainly not be to ask for him to turn up the setting because you now really much want to come.

"You don't sound fine."

"But I am."

"How much did you drink?"

"Not that much, Guk." He makes you frown, almost rips a curse out of you. Because all this serious talk is diverting you from your pleasure. It's not like you're going to have fucking alcohol poisoning. You didn't drink that much, honestly. The drinks were not even that heavy, except for the two disgusting shots your friend forced in your hands. "Seriously, I'm good." The building up pleasure has brought a new awareness to your brain, and honestly, you feel way more alert than before. You're far from drunk, no matter how much your behaviour seems to contradict that. You're good. You'd be perfect if he'd shut up or if he'd start half seducing you as he does. Maybe he could talk about your nipples again and what you should do with them.

He did say that. Now that you come to think of it. On top of buying you those toys, he did guide you as to what to do with some of them, how you could use them. They were not his direct advice, they were the lady's but still, he felt the importance to share them with you.

"If you are then just answer the question, how much?"

"Okay in a sec but can you turn up the toy's intensity, please?"

"Turn what?" You almost bark then. The whistling f of a very practical, very useful word you shouldn't yell at him rings to your own ear but you're strong enough to hold back. "Ah the thing, yeah, sure." What a sweetheart. A bit slow, but lovely. Your whole body contracts violently when the newly powered wave hits, the beginning of a moan escaping because it's so good, it's almost painful. "I had like two shots of-" Ah. "Something. I don't know what it was, just-" Fuck. "Gross as- uh." Holy shit, that's good.

You can't believe you've judged this intricate, revolutionary technology so bad before. "And then, like, a martini or two, barely and- and-" You're so fucking close. Each time feels like the final ascension except you get back to square one whenever the vibration drops back to stillness too quick to your liking. It's pure torture. And having to make a fucking list of your consumption that's so far back in your brain right now, especially when you know that it's pointless, is not helping.

"Wait-"

"Jungkook-" You don't know if you're begging him to stop thinking now, not get to the conclusion his logical train of thoughts is trying to lead him to, or if you're begging him to help you cum, maybe be nice to the bunny which only seems to be kind to him and make him make you cum.

"Why did you ask me to turn the thing up?" He already knows the answer. You can hear in his tone that he already knows. And frankly, he's a dumb ass for not realizing sooner. "No, you're joking. You wouldn't- not when I'm talking to you."

"When if not then?" Maybe frustration has brought you some bravery, or maybe pleasure has burned the very last remaining functioning cells of your brain.

"Uh?"

It's probably gone too far now. It still feels like he owns the key to the phenomenal orgasm you can smell coming. If you were to hang up now, you wouldn't even know how to make this shitty thing work. And it's not enough. Still.

Shit.

You're definitely wailing in a second now. The next sound you mean to conceal is a sob. Why can't you reach it? And how can you be so hyper-focused on it, it doesn't seem to matter what's going on with Jungkook.

You've gone crazy. Or perhaps you're drunker than you thought yourself to be. The last wave hits differently. It's straight-up overstimulation when you haven't even come once yet. Doesn't feel very nice but at least, it's the push you need to finally lift it up a bit, make a pause and eventually show some consideration to Jungkook.

"So you've been arguing with me, saying it sucks when really you were-"

"It did suck before you changed the setting." You assert again. Because nagging is the thing you're most talented at doing, apparently.

Silence ensues. In the defeating quiet you realize even the discreet humming of the toy has stopped. He's turned it off.

Something akin to shame is finally showing the tip of its nose. It's been fucking late to the party, you note with a growing, you know to become, devastating mortification. Exhaustion and tipsiness are keeping your conscience quite numb but you don't give a chance to sober-you who'll wake up tomorrow with this awful incident engraved in her memory.

Why can't he say something? Essentially, it's his fault. It's always his fault. He makes you feel things you shouldn't and make you do things you wouldn't. You can't think properly. You're being fucking chaotic and he's responsible for that. Even you know it's reaching. You're not that petty and mean.

In a whisper, dipped in sincerity and shame, you apologize. "Sorry, Jungkook."

"For what?" Because he can't let you off the hook that easily, can he?

"Are you seriously going to make me say it? You know why!" Here comes angry-you again. Getting mad and rude for no rational reasons, and here, awfully unfairly. He really deserves better.

"No, I-" You may have broken him. Jungkook has never been the most eloquent person. Between lisping and stuttering and stopping mid-sentence to let you complete for him his missing words, he's never been the best at talking. But even for him, even knowing his history, you find him pretty affected. Possibly all messed up. There's not even the hint of sensible thought. A void filled with "uh" and "tsk" and lips smacking and hums, it's like he's ceased to function. Maybe if you just hang up and from then on, just pretend it's never happened, both of you can get away with the situation. It's an option.

"Jungkook, seriously, I'm sorry. Let's say it was a fucking, uh, drunk lapse of judgment on my part and- yeah, never mention it again."

"Yeah, okay." He whispers after a while. He sounds really shaken up. "But it's fine, I'm not mad, I'm just-"

"Bamboozled?" You suggest, heart constricted, not ready to joke yet but so desperate to obtain at least a smile from him to prove yourself that it's okay and you didn't fuck it up too bad.

"Bamboozled, indeed." He chuckles, a bit breathless on the phone. You can't help the big sigh that escapes you when relief rushes through you. He doesn't sound too upset with you. "I'm really not mad, I just wouldn't have- I wouldn't have expected this, from you."

Of course not. It makes you cringe. You bury your face in your pillow and release the most intense quiet cry you could manage.

"Sorry." You say again, quiet. Your eyes are prickly. This night is such a mess. You can't make out how you're feeling. It's like your reactions and your reflections all come to their own rhythm, inappropriately, unmatching each other's and certainly unmatching the current situation.

"Stop. And don't-" If you're decomposing yourself progressively, at least, he seems to be getting back to his senses. Voice clearer and more present. "You sound so upset now. Are you embarrassed?" It's a smile you hear in his words. You don't have the right to be mad at him but honestly, you would have hit him in the ribs if he were in front of you.

"Is it even necessary to ask?" You grumble face half suffocating still in the pillow. Oh, here's another solution. Suffocating yourself to death.

"I think so. I mean I bought them and I turned it on for you, I should have- I couldn't have known but I should have. It's fine honestly."

"It's not."

Stop pretending, you fucking liar. Even if he acts quite calm, nonchalant, you can hear a very slight difference to his usual tone. He's not sincerely, honestly, a hundred per cent okay and chill with the situation. He's faking casualness but he's not entirely it.

"It is."

"It's not. I'm just gonna die, Jeon." That makes him laugh even though you're only half-joking. You don't know if it's possible to die from embarrassment. One thing is for sure, if it's possible, you won't survive the night.

"No, you're not, baby. It's fine." Jeon Jungkook is the sweetest, needless to say. You should hang up. Apologize again, hang up and pray for him to forgive you and eventually forget all about it. But you remain on the phone because you're so desperate for his approbation and his love and any sign of reassurance from him. And he's giving it to you. When he could probably have a little rest of his own. If it's awkward for you, you can't even imagine for him. But he accepts to stay and reassures you. What a cutie. "Did you cum?"

You choke on your own saliva. More than taken aback, actually shocked. How dares he?

Or can you say that? Can you act offended when you've just done what you did? In any case, how are you even supposed to answer that question?

"You- It's just that I turned it off and we- I was just wondering if you did..." That sounds about right. That sounds like Jungkook being curious and wording this curiosity without necessarily anticipating how you'd take it. It must be part of his plan, his 'let's be the closest, let's share everything' plan he mentioned a few months back. You're not ready, won't ever be if that's what it'll look like.

You are the problem. Apparently, you can get yourself off when the poor boy is on the phone with you unbeknownst, but you still have a hard time talking about sex with him. "...because it sounds awful if you did not."

And it is. It is horrible. You'd imagine that after getting caught, feeling so embarrassed and guilty, your cunt wouldn't still be quivering and begging for you to pay attention to it again. But you've taken it so far. Made it discover new incredible sensations of course it'd still be obsessed with it and with the climax the toy teased it with.

You groan in your pillow again. Not sure how he'll interpret it. Not sure how you want him to interpret it. Should you just talk to him? He could hang up too. If really he didn't want to partake in this mess he could hang up, he could talk about anything else.

"Listen, you don't ever have to be embarrassed with me, you know that." That's reaching. You want to tell him that he can't ever say that to someone, he can't ever become anyone's mat to wipe their dirty shoes on. He should be the one feeling awkward, being mad at you, except he reassures you again. "And when you just proceed on getting yourself off while I was talking- worrying about your fucking health..." He snorts before he can finish. "How dare you act coy with me!" He's just laughing too hard now, contributing wholeheartedly to the burning flush on your cheeks. Well, you deserved it.

"Is that it? You're going to bring this up each time you'd want something from me?" You sound so upset, even to your own ears. It results in his laughter dying down pretty quickly.

"I think so, yeah." You don't add anything. You don't want to be rude. Still hope for any kind of magic word you don't even know that he could mutter to you and that'll help cure your heart and soul. Therefore you can't tell him goodbye and hang up. You wait for him to do it. Except he doesn't. It's late as fuck too. He might be working later today. Why isn't he hanging up? "If I'm talking about it, you should know that it's fine. I don't mind." An asshole and a cutie. "You okay, babe?"

The simple hum you tried to aim for turns into half of a whimper half of a moan. You're not okay. Any part of your being won't let you lie and pretend.

"Do you want me to turn it on?" For fuck's sake. "I'll hang up and leave it on so you just- it'll turn itself off when there's no battery left anyway."

"Jungkook." Your stern voice is a threat. It doesn't have to be further explained, he gets it.

"What?" He sounds aggravated. You can imagine him raising his hands to the skies, upset and losing patience as he's only trying to make it better for you and oh women are so complicated. Something like that. "Oh my God. Just get yourself off and feel better after."

"You don't tell me what to do." Childish but there's not much left of your brain. "Well, you don't even fucking know what to do with yourself right now. Am I right or am I right?" He whisper-yells back at you. Very mean.

"Asshole." It's a tiny whisper under your breath but you're certain he hears it even if he completely ignores it.

"Listen, since you can't even- how old are you, seriously?"

"Fuck you." Barely louder. You definitely know he's heard this time, but still, he decides to dismiss it. He's always been more productive than you.

"I'll turn it on and hang up. You take care of yourself like a big girl, alright?" He probably believes that you can't get yourself to ask for what you want aka a wild night with the fucking toy you can't get to work yourself. But it's not actually the case. Honestly. Now all you can think about -besides the whole very humiliating moment when he caught you in the act- is the way it kept torturing you, bringing you very high but never enough. It started to hurt at the end, brought impatient frustrated tears to your eyes. You don't even think you could finish with it.

Maybe it's inappropriate to seriously consider it. Maybe you won't ever learn your lesson.

Before you even get to word your refusal, the thing is on. It's on the same devilish setting as earlier. The merciless wave. Fuck.

"Don't! It's not- it won't even make me cum, stop it!"

"What? Why not?"

"I don't know the setting is weird." You start explaining through the thicker pout to have ever existed. You're really considering having him solve your climax. You've gone crazy.

"What's wrong with it? Tell me, I'll put on one you like."

Fuck.

You are doomed.

What are you supposed to do with a guy like this?

"I don't think there is." You can hear the frustration from his end before he even says a word. It's written in the stars that in a second he's going to bring it all up, the part when you got off and pester that you can't still be complaining about the fucking toy. "No, I mean it's- the one I liked, the last one you clicked on, it's like-" Fuck, you're really doing this. "A wave. You know? It grows crescendo but it always stops right before- right when it's really good. And I just couldn't- because the good part doesn't last long enough and, yeah."

"Wait, let me look." He sounds a bit further away from you then. He's logged back into the app, you can tell. And with his tiny "hm" and his "so...", he sounds the way he does when your computer is being difficult and he's trying to fix it because you won't pay a professional to do it when you have this nerd populating your entourage. "Ah. You want the high moment to last longer?" "Yes." You can picture him nod to himself, frowning his eyebrows and sucking his lips in the way he does when he's super focused.

"Like that?" You wouldn't know because the toy is lost somewhere, you can hear it but not see it. You ask him to wait for a second and it stops altogether. Doesn't make it easier to find it but it wasn't lost that far. Once you have it in your hand, you gulp, ashamed, not sure if you could ever play with this thing again. But the other guy on the phone doesn't seem to have his motivation falters. You're not the one telling him to try again, on his own, he executes.

It's hard to tell in your hand, the vibrating ears hugged tightly in your palm, if it's going to be satisfactory enough. If it's precisely the thing that was missing from earlier. It follows the pattern you asked him though. Still to a growing intense high that lasts for approximately a good ten seconds rather than the lame 2 seconds from earlier.

"I think so..."

"Okay then. You... mute yourself and then- Uh, no. I should mute myself so- or we both mute ourselves?" He's not really with you anymore. Lost in his own head amongst those seemingly very difficult questions. You don't even get where he's trying to get at. Wasn't he supposed to hang up?

"Why would you stay?"

"It's just- it's me doing it. There's no setting for what you want, it's me doing it. I have to draw the frequency on my phone."

"There's an option for that?"

"Yes. There's even one to have it follow audio!" He points out with way too much enthusiasm. He might have really found a new passion.

"Sounds like high tech."

"Yep."

"Sounds expensive as hell."

He laughs in the mic, snorts even before he brushes it off. Quite frankly, no matter what you'd have to say to him, he'd always do as he wishes. If spending ridiculous amounts of money on ridiculous things for ridiculous you is what he wants to do, he won't let anyone, not even you, tell him not to.

You don't know what to say, he's not saying anything either. He suggested something quite insane: he'd stay. While his finger would be drawing shapes on his screen to actively give you your pleasure, he'd stay on the phone with you. Maybe it's a bit hypocritical or ironical, how it sounds crazy to you now while ten minutes ago, you had no problem doing it without him knowing. That's probably the main issue here, him knowing. That changes everything.

"But if you stay-"

"We can't both mute ourselves because I won't hear if you ask me to change something or- so you, you just stay like that and I'll mute myself."

"Jungkook, you muting yourself won't change my awareness of you being here."

"But maybe you'll forget about it?"

"Jungkook."

"What?" He sounds contrite then. Like an upset child who's being argued with. He's trying so hard but you make it so difficult, it seems.

There's just one thing holding you back. Until now you couldn't quite pinpoint it. And it's hard to resolve an issue you can't name.

But it just hit you. His way of insisting while making it seem like he does it for you only, to help you out and doesn't necessarily find his part in the cake.

"Do you want to?"

"Uh?"

"You sound like- I don't know what you sound like. You're confusing. If you're just trying to give me a hand and solely that then hang up and I'll just- whatever."

"Oh."

"Of course, it makes no sense for you to do this for me and stay if you don't want to, I mean." He takes forever to answer. For a second, you even peek at your screen wondering if he didn't simply quit the conversation.

It's really all you need to know. If somehow, to some extent, he wants you or at least, wants to partake in this genuinely. You don't want it if it's just a bro hand. You can hardly live with what you've done if he's utterly uninterested. But if he does want it, even a little bit, you might be wrong but you feel like everything would turn out to be fine.

"It's not that hard of a question." You try again because it almost feels like he's forgotten you from how long he's remained silent. He had put you on the spot, in this very conversation too, so many times, you have the right to do the same to him, at least once. "Do you want to stay?"

He cracks up. It's the very hard kind of laughter. With the boyish chuckles, mixed with the squeaky intakes of air. The one that always brings a smile to your face and usually drags you along the fit.

You have no idea what it means right now. It's probably the least appropriate time for it to show up. Therefore instead of making you smile it only reinforces the headache slowly growing at your temple.

"Aah." He starts by exhaling longly. You can hear the grin fixed on his face. "Yes." Your heart trips in your rib cage. You should have guessed it but you couldn't have imagined this answer. And him laughing to tears like a fucking deranged infant doesn't help. "Shit, sorry." He apologized when the remnant of what sounds definitely like a giggle resonates in through the phone.

"What's so funny, Guk?" Your words don't match your tone. You're high under pressure, unsure of what's actually going on. Jungkook is not cruel, you've known him long enough to know that he wouldn't deliberately hurt you, wouldn't mess with you so bad, for so long, even for a great laugh. Still, you can't be convinced that he's sincere. Seriously, how could you? The dude won't stop fucking laughing.

"Nothing, I'm just- I didn't realize until you asked me the question that I wanted to." Oh. "I'm an idiot."

"Welp." Could have told you sooner but I thought you knew.

"Mean. And, uh," It sounds like he's tossing and turning in bed again. You bet he's just gotten the exact same position as before. He's like those cats that turn around in circles again and again until they settle for the initial spot. When he starts talking again, his voice is hardly a whisper, you assume he's holding the mic very close to his mouth. "I should ask you too. Do you want to?"

"I wouldn't ask if I didn't want it, moron." Patience has run thin. Now that you're reassured you don't have to be ashamed and embarrassed anymore, you can simply be annoyed as you get with him.

Honestly, you're still feeling abashed but he doesn't need to know that.

"Quit being mean. It's not my fault I'm slow." He says, faking deep pity and it does make you snort. "Okay, well..."

"Well, indeed."

"You're making this awkward!" You roll your eyes. Feels like you can sort this out. If you do take out the very blatant, scorching awkwardness, it's a very regular interaction between you. Sounds like any other day except in a second he's going to press a finger to his phone in hopes to make you cum.

"Your whole existence is awkward."

"Shut up. Let's just fucking start." He groans as if you're the one belating the initial step –you are but so is he.

"I don't have the fucking remote." He tells you to shut up again, and this time, when you hear him hum to himself when he's opening the app, there's a recognizable brushing noise falling directly in your ear.

"You put your earbuds on."

He doesn't answer but you're sure he's registered the question.

Fine.

If he doesn't want to give you an answer you'll just make up your own. Don't you put earbuds on to hear better? Just saying.

"Put the thing on."

"Oh my God, Jungkook-" You take back your own admission. He's the one, solely, all alone, making it painfully awkward. Sounding like a newly pubescent teen trying to initiate sex. "Could you be any smoother?"

"But-" He sighs. "Do you want me to?" How do you ask your best friend you've may have been in love with for officially a couple of months to please act like an ideal lover even if it's just very short-termed? He sounds willing. But asking is the most difficult part. "I can be- or do whatever you want, I just don't know-"

"I like it when you call me baby." Your whole face is scrunched up in a perfect picture of your intense embarrassment. Formalities need to get fucking out of the way and it's precisely what you've just tried to do. But holy shit, it's painfully embarrassing.

"Oh. Do you now?"

Here comes the smirk. Can't see it. Can hear it clearly. It's pretty much louder than his words even.

You want to tell him to forget it all. That it's not going to work if each fucking second he makes you feel like he's going to be using whatever you say or whatever you do against you later on. You decide to demonstrate exemplary patience, reminding yourself that he's not cruel. Admittedly.

Perhaps you're the idiot and it's all your fault. Because you've just admitted (without him even asking) that you like (and into these circumstances, that it turns you on) to have him call you baby. Thing that he does already every time he starts coddling you.

"Okay then." He startles you, clearing his throat. You wonder if he's as anxious as you are, or at least, a tiny bit nervous. For the most part, he doesn't seem like it. Then again, he's quite good at pretending.

It shows soon after when he starts again, this time with the gentle, soft voice he hardly ever uses with you. There's a tiny newcomer, a certain edge that gives it some firmness and that enchants you. That's exactly what you wanted him to be. "Put it on, babe."

You nod wordlessly, omitting that he can't see you and do as told. Slipping the toy under the waistband of your panties, guiding the ears aside your clit. There's a very faint buzzing coming from them. You barely feel it and you suppose it's just there to have you accommodate better.

"Are you still dressed?"

"It's just my panties and a big shirt." Your shirt you'd add if you had a bit more courage. You hope he's going to let you keep it.

"Take your panties off." The part of you who's his best friend wants to nag, tell him that maybe he should have asked that before demanding you place the toy on your cunt but you feel generous and merciful, and also desperate and tired of your orgasm being stalled for so long. "Are they soaked from earlier?" Okay, this shit's going to be hard. There's no coming back. Strangely, it's just now that it's really hitting you. Even if it's going well, there is no way, you'll ever forget his velvety smooth whisper saying those words. There's no way you're helpless cunt ever forgets.

They are, by the way. You don't even get how you've been able to keep them on and ignore the uncomfortable stickiness for this long. Just sliding them along your thighs feels disagreeable.

"Y/N." Sounds like you're getting scolded. And even if you particularly like the way he just said your name, with that same peculiar edge from earlier, a little sharper then, how are you supposed to answer that? "What did you say earlier? That it can't only be for you, is that right?"

"Yes." You admit sheepishly because now you're definitely getting scolded. It brings flush on your only newly temperate cheeks and you don't even hate it.

"Then I'll give you everything, I told you I would but I'll need you to give me some back. Can you do that?" He sounds so strict, how can you like it so much? You can literally feel the electricity along your spine, sliding down to go faint in the hot mess between your thighs and that's ridiculous. You hate being talked to that way, usually, probably because it's never him doing it. Jeon Jungkook might be your ultimate kink. And somehow, he figured it all out. That whatever he'd do would fit you perfectly well. Also, he might be turning like that because undeniably, you're a brat. "Can you?" He insists again because whilst you've been busy trying not to hyperventilate, he's been waiting for one answer.

"Yes. Yes, I can. Sorry."

"Don't apologize, it's fine." You should want to bite him. Why insist so much if it's to end up leaving you off the hook so easily? You know though, for a fact, awfully bothersome to your ego, that if he were in front of you presently, you'd give him puppy eyes and batting lashes, sad pouty lips and probably tend your neck to invite him to gently pat your hair. "Tell me, are your panties soaked?" "I think I ruined them..."

"You did, didn't you?" He's laughing a bit, kind of full of himself for some reasons. Maybe he knows that it's mainly his fault they ended up this way. Maybe he knows they are not the only pair fallen victim to simply the thought of him. "Was it worth it?"

"You're taking care of me so I'd say yes." A chortle. A purr that you interpret into something you like a lot. It sounds like he's taken your response for exactly what you wished him to. A tease. He makes your belly churns and twists, turns your nerves from your heart to your noggins haywire. The least he can allow you to do, the least you'd like to do, is for him to be affected by you.

It starts with a gentle buzzing. It's nothing much. Nothing at all, you'd say if you'd let your greediness and impatience talk. There's something else doing it for you, for now. Jungkook's breath, sort of heavy, slow, rocking you with warmth. Knowing he's here and here to please you; you're laid in bed, naked from the waist down, wet and about to make it all better thanks to him; the picture itself makes it all for you.

"How is it?" Jungkook asks after some time. It's been silent. You haven't said much, in fact, you haven't said anything yet. Not that ready to demand more, and not feeling enough for moans or whimpers or whatever to be stolen from you.

"Boring." You admit. "S'not what you were supposed to give me." Through a thick pout, you deplore.

It doesn't work. He doesn't care. He doesn't fucking care when he's playing exactly the role you've implicitly asked him to play. "Have you said please, even once?" You hate that he's virtually pinning you down with exactly what turns you on.

"I- Probably." You haven't said much. You haven't been so explicit, so telling simply because you couldn't, but surely, you said please. Didn't you?

"Not probably. You did not. And on top of that, you're complaining." He's figured out exactly what you wanted, what you needed. Therefore, as naturally as it came for him, you fit it your own role easily.

"I'm not complaining. I was just- pointing it out. Sorry."

"You can apologize a lot but you can't even say please. Not once." Well, fuck. You never thought that he could be mean. Awfully mean. You wished, when you let your mind wander there one too many time, a bit too deep, that he'd be like that. Sweet and soft and tender the way he is, always, but also, bad, kind of harsh. "Ask kindly, once."

"Jungkook-"

"I'll give you everything you want. Just once."

"Please, Jungkook." You know he's satisfied with what you offer him because you don't have to wait another second for him to give you precisely what you were waiting for. It's timid, follows the crescendo built you were looking for except it's not intense. It's the first step however it's incredibly effective. It feels as good as the first time. "Plea-please." Manifestly, it is the secret word, the passcode to your pleasure because the intensity you're craving for finally reaches you. It does in an electrifying peak, that lasts long, just like you asked, it's so good, the feeling so perfectly indulgent to your needs, maybe even too much, you squirm, part the little ears from your clit, hissing. "Shit, Jungkook!"

"Too much, baby?" The hypocrite, with his concerned tone, doesn't even take a break from activating the vibration, from keeping on building the intensiveness. You can tell it's he too, him really doing it live, as in it's not absolutely regular, the built sometimes takes longer, sometimes the volume stronger, other times weaker. It's undeniable, every minute of it feels different from the next, you can't even omit for a second that it's him doing it. And he's doing it so well.

"Per- fect, just- sensitive." You moan out. Back arching, right leg twitching. The next brush is particularly nice, goes so far you believe you might come on the spot. Now you definitely can't hold back even if you wanted to. The sounds that come out of your mouth, foreign to your own ears, are not even yours. They come straight from your body, straight from an excess of pleasure you try to deal with, to handle, when you clearly can't. You're alone, and it's you ultimately controlling the power on your own body, you can pull out, even slightly, every time it comes hard and strong and you ought to twitch uncomfortably. You wonder how it'd be if he were here with you. If he forgot just for a while that you were his best friend, the girl who used to be older and taller and has turned, with the years, into this tiny little thing because he just kept on growing and growing, sprouting like a fucking redwood, and now feels like he needs to protect and care for you. If he were there, and he could forget that, you bet, his present voice, heated, scorching, is telling you this, that probably, he'd hold you down, crush your body with his, hand pressing your thighs down and apart, and force you to take the pleasure in its entirety. You imagine him merciless, slipping sweet words in your ear, while he'd have you literally scream from overstimulation.

And then his voice, the perfectly alluring thing, concludes to let you know it won't happen like that. His voice will make you come.

"You sound so good." Especially, if he keeps saying shit like that, with this tone, soft yet strong and highly, terribly affected. He's breathing hot and heavy in your ears. Is he touching himself?

"Please, Jungkook." You implore, vainly, hips slowly grinding against the toy, pressed by your palm on your sensitive centre.

"Especially begging, 'sound so, so good." He's not touching himself. He sounds bothered, but not enough, he doesn't stutter like you do, his voice doesn't jump and dip, stops momentarily like yours does. Shit, you wished he would play with his cock. Fuck, you want to play with his cock. So fucking bad.

"Y-you like it?" You ask, not because you're curious to know, he's said it already, but because you won't ever get tired of hearing him say it, in all those different ways.

"I do, baby. I love hearing you." You can't help the curse that leaves your lips a bit harsh. You're so close. So so close. Eyes filled up to the brim, tip of your nose wet. How many times have you thought, already, that you were seriously going to fall over? "You gonna cum?"

"I can't-" You sob, whine. There's a tear spilling from your right eye. "It's too much." So attentive to your every word, the intensity drops drastically. It still buzzes, discreet, way more tolerable. Ironically, if you can now bear it, you know it's not enough to lead you to your climax either. "Help me, make me cum, Guk."

"Use your fingers." He's been nice, essentially, you can only be good to him. Without even having to think about it, you dip your fingers in the mess that is your cunt. Two fingers slip in between your lips too easily, you could add a third if only there wasn't the bunny taking a bit too much room, and your fingers were longer, and your hips not so twitchy. If Jungkook was here, if only he was here, he'd fit his two fingers and it'd be enough. You bet it'd be enough. You bet his pretty, long, tattooed fingers would stretch you so well and make you come in a heartbeat. "Fuck yourself with them."

It's so gratifying. Having him humming in your ear encouragements and compliments. He's sweet, sweet, sweet. Excellent with his voice. Fuck, he must be unreal with his fingers, with his mouth, with his fat cock.

Diligently, you drag your fingers in and out, it's only mildly agreeable when you're sopping wet, almost gaping. Until he draws on his phone the same magnificent pattern from before.

You wish it'd last longer. It's precisely what you needed, the ideal combination. Along with his words.

You know if you come he'd have to stop. He'll stop calling you baby, stop saying how sexy you are, use all those nasty words he never does and talking like that, with this voice, with this heat in his tone. It's a bothering thought at the back of your mind you have to actively push away.

There's nothing you can do when harshly, yet with a please, he demands you to cum.

You can feel your cunt, wide open from both your spread legs and the excitation, getting wet, growing soaked. You can actually feel it as it happens before you explode. Clenching violently around your fingers, spilling all over them, you might squeak and scream and moan his name continuously, you barely hear yourself through your ringing ears.

"Fuck, Jungkook..." You sigh. Laying there, boneless, hand dripping up to your wrist. He's chuckling. "Fuck."

"Feeling better?" You hmm in response. Words sound like too much effort right now. Your brain is working slow. Extremely slowly. There's a multitude of thoughts forming though, germinating from a strange ground.

One, in particular, does, enlarging ridiculously much next to the others. You could enjoy this luck. You could just bathe in the lovely, perfect haze. Accept that the sky is perfectly blue without a cloud, with even a rainbow somewhere. Maybe a double rainbow even.

There's a very, very dark, very, very large cloud invading your perfect sky though. And because tears, of another kind, have already located your eyes, the new ones fit in, mixing up with them and taking over them with utter ease. What the fuck have you done?

"Jungkook, I'm so sorry-" You start with a tremble in the voice. There's a fat lump in your throat.

"Why? What's going on, baby?" He's sweet as honey, back to his usual self, worried, and you're horrible.

"Your- I didn't even think about her and-" There's a sob bubbling out of your mouth. "It's not me. I didn't mean to-"

"What are you talking about?"

"Jiyeun." The taste in your mouth when you say her name, is unbearable. You know full fucking well you shouldn't say her name. You shouldn't be allowed to. How dare you. Spoil it when you spent way too long virtually getting in this guy's, who's someone else's boyfriend, pants.

"Dumbass." It makes you choke on your own sobs. "It's over. With her, I mean. We broke up." Ah. You want to ask a billion questions. Starting with "again?". Soon followed up by a "why didn't you say anything, dickhead?". You spent the whole fucking night, getting shit faced and spiritually crying in the club over a couple that does not even exist anymore. Then you'd ask for how long they are planning to be over. "For good, this time." You're barely drying up your fat crocodile tears when he calls you an idiot again, says something about how he's not that kind of guy and you should know it.

Feels better. The thunderstorm is gone.

Alcohol and horniness and hardcore loving are such a terrible combo you need to avoid.

"Cuddles." Tiredly, half-dead, but still alive enough to be greedy, to feel sensible, skinned and want him to give you more. "Come cuddle." He's late to answer, delays it as if you don't desperately need his response.

It's terribly quiet and still. The dark of the night seems even more sombre. He can fix everything if only he'd give you the answer you desire.

"You sure?"

"Always." You say, maybe too honest. He doesn't seem to mind, agrees with a snort.

"Alright."

He appears in front of you in the blink of an eye. Literally. That blink does last longer than usual. The orgasm may have crushed you. You close your eyes and when you open them back up, he's here. Standing in the doorframe of your bedroom, dressed in all black and oversized, as usual. You look up, eyes squinted, bothered by the light coming from the hallway. He's staring. Gaze brushing, from your head to your toes, seemingly slowing down when they reach your naked thighs.

"What?" You mumble, embarrassed, one hand sliding down just to make sure the hem of the shirt is covering your crotch. You didn't even put your panties back on. You may or may not have wiped yourself clean enough with the wet wipes wisely sitting on your bedside table -you thought about it really hard but you can’t remember if you actually did it.

"You never mentioned it was my t-shirt you were wearing." You shrug. You'd have a better come back if you weren't so tired and if it wasn't simply true. "Would have been nice to know." He says, kneeling down next to your bed. The latter is low, mattress barely raised from the ground and even when he's crouching down, he's hovering above you, looking down on you. "Easier to picture." He adds quieter the closest he comes to you. It's enough words to know who he is at the moment. In what form, what version of your Jeon Jungkook, has come to visit. It's the gentle one. The one whose voice doesn't raise, doesn't feel as animated as his usual one when he spends his time being a clown to make everyone laughs. The one that made you fall, the first time. Not exactly the one you had on the phone with you earlier and even if you like him, if you adore him in fact, you feel sort of uneasy, worried. He might be gone forever, this one.

Unless it is him. His hands reach forward, large and warm, they lie on your thighs. The fingers brush up a bit, to the hem of his shirt, and they stop there. He looks up from them, straight in your eyes, smiles, digs the tips in the meat of your thighs before he lifts you up, aiming for the border of your bed.

God. You hope it'll happen again. But differently. More in-depth. He'd be less dressed, he would manhandle you, before he'd do some unnamable things to you. But another day. One when you're not almost dead. When you feel hornier and less soft and desperate for direct comfort to your swollen heart. It could be tomorrow when you wake up. If he's up for it. Please God, make it so he's up for it.

Jungkook hops on the bed behind you, huffs comfortably, holding your cover by a corner to bring it up and over the two of you. He fits behind you too naturally for it to be the first time. He doesn't seem to mind that you're so underdressed, compared to the other times, that you still have some remnant of your orgasm on you, that it's different. His arm sliding around you, holding a bit too tight, pressing you a tiny bit too hard, you're still hot from earlier. It's perfect though. You don't want him to move an inch and you hope, the hand that's wrapped on his forearm, makes him understand.

"M'not too clingy?" His own cheek pressed hard to your own, he asks, which is weird. How could he still wonder? He's never ever been too clingy. Even when you were kids and he followed you around before even asking if he could, he wasn't too clingy. The closest, the better. You deny with a uh-uh. He calls out for your name when you're fighting to keep your eyelids open. It's the most comfortable, the warmest you've ever felt. Like a cocoon of pure love and adoration. On top of it, there's his hard arms around you, his hard thigh pushing against yours, his crotch -with the feel of his member, slightly stiff- glued to your butt, and his chest, as hard as the rest, holding your back up like a strong wall. "I promise I didn't plan the whole toys thingy for that."

"For what?" Sleepily, you wonder, actually confused from exhaustion. To cuddle with you? Like you haven't in so, so long. Why would he try to apologize for it? "To use them with you."

"What a shame." You don't think he can understand. Diction is not something you care for at the moment. The hard laugh bubbling in his chest, rumbling, shaking your whole, lets you know he did, in fact, get it.

"You're so-" He starts but the thought dies way too soon for you to even try and complete it yourself. "I'll have a billion questions for you tomorrow."

"No." You whine. Because he's fucking up everything. If he believes you'll say it all to him, there's no way you can. There's no way you will. He chuckles.

Doesn't seem to be taking you seriously.

"Yes. And you'll answer every single one of them." He gives a sweet but pressing kiss to your neck.

"No."

"I adore you." Fucking hell. "I broke up with Jiyeun because I adore you too much. I realized I want to spend all my time and energy on my best friend." You don't even know what he means. You can't even hold your eyelids open now, you can't even keep your hand on his arm, it being too heavy and sleep having taken over most of your body.

You bet he's saying that just because he's guessed it. He's figured you all out and the asshole doesn't mind playing with your soft heart. He knows he'll get anything from you if he's this good. Hopefully, tomorrow, he'll have forgotten about his little interrogation because you're not sure you'll be able to lie. For now, he's holding you way too close for you to care. Whatever. May it last forever, this feeling.

A/N: DON’T HATE ME OKAY?! i know i have an issue with angst and endings, for some reasons, i don’t want to hurt my characters but i can’t get myself to write an actual fully happy, non-ambiguous conclusion, and i’m really sorry for it lmao.

i sincerely hope you enjoyed the last part of The Wishlist! Thank you immensely for anyone who’s followed along, please let me know your thoughts, i really really want to know :)

for now, i’m sending you lots of love and kisses, take good care of yourself and others, see ya very very soon :]

tag list: @safi4x��� @kai-kai-bookshelf​ @somewhereinthestarss​ @hsinmyheart​ @moonchild1​ @monvieesdaebak @pasteljoonie​ @fangirls94​ @jinsalpaca​ @ggukkieland​

[alygatorwrites]

can I request a lil something? during the end of the manga or after the timeskip if you haven't read it yet, reiner still has feelings for historia and reader has one-sided feelings for him.

pieck gives reiner a small hint, saying he's wasting time while there's someone close to him that cares for him and points to you. he doesn't understand at first and maybe is conflicted about his feelings for you because of historia. reader is cool about it as she doesn't expect him to reciprocate her feelings.

a rollercoaster of emotions later, maybe there is a happy ending tho? i am curious to see what you can come up with 😭😭 i have dreaming of this scenario before bed and i can't help but get jealous of his crush on historia abjdsndks maybe you can help reiner reciprocate reader-chan's feelings or not

thank u so much aly 💖🥺

reciprocation

pairing: reiner braun x reader

a/n: OMG yesss! honestly, i was kinda annoyed at how reiner still had a crush on historia. i know that isayama wanted to show how everything went back to normal, but i was hoping that reiner would have a bigger role in the allied nations instead of being "dumbed down" to having an obsession with her. MAYBE THATS JUST THE JEALOUSY SPEAKING LMAO 😭 i was hoping this would be longer, although school has been killing me so im really sorry!! i hope its okay 💗💕 thank you honey!

↳ to be added to my taglist, please fill out this ♡form♡

as reiner is handed historia’s letter, you fold your hands on the table and watch him without a word. when he reads the lines and smells the parchment - jean saying something snarky afterward - you say nothing.

you want reiner to be happy: you want to see him at ease like this more, face soft as the leaf of the page flits from his pinched fingers.

and so you let the man speak about historia like she’s a damn goddess, gushing over her handwriting, and keep your goddamn mouth shut. ignore your jealousy. your feelings.

the truth is, you’re in love with reiner.

you can’t even remember how it happened, but you can remember the first time you looked into those hazel eyes, and how you knew that they were going to stick with you for eternity.

you’ve come to accept his crush on the queen, though. reciprocation was never an option in your mind.

when jean begins to chew reiner out for lusting after a married woman, and reiner says something about jean being a horse, pieck’s gaze lands on you. “you’re rather quiet,” she says softly, resting her head on her palm.

you shrug, turning away from her. “i’m just tired.”

pieck catches your chin between her lithe fingers, and turns you to face her with a tiny smile. the young woman is very perceptive, and you’ve known her long enough. 

that’s when you notice the twinkle in her eye. she’s planning something.

pieck releases your jaw then, sitting up in her chair. “you’re wasting your time, reiner,” she says suddenly. “there’s already someone you know who cares for you.”

you pretend to not hear pieck - and definitely pretend you don’t see her faintly point at you through your peripheral. the movement of her fingers is barely there, but you catch it.

damn you, pieck.

the way you’re now pinned underneath armin, jean, connie, and reiner’s stares makes your stomach tie itself into knots with bubbling reluctance. shit, this is awkward. you want to run away.

still, you peer over to study reiner’s reaction. he looks confused at first, the contours of his face unreadable. you swear you see connie facepalm at the man’s cluelessness.

then reiner’s expression slowly changes: his eyes widen in awe, lips parting slightly, and brows knitting together. he seems genuinely surprised - and conflicted.

conflicted? why?

there’s no time to explain yourself though, because the door creaks open and annie steps in. her words fall on your deaf ears, and when everyone stands up to leave, you’re the first one out of the room. work beckons you as always.

two days pass.

you’ve been busy filling out tons of paperwork pertaining to the allied nations, so when you’re finally given a day off, you take it with open arms. 

freedom at last.

you lean against a bench outside of headquarters, enjoying the salty breeze that flutters along your skin. it’s dusk, the sky covered in a gradient of neon colors as the sun dips below the horizon.

you haven’t seen reiner since that day in the conference room. you wonder how he’s doing, what he’s thinking, how he’s holding up -

“hey.”

speak of the devil. you glance over your shoulder toward the voice, low and familiar.

reiner approaches you, clad in his uniform: the suit hugs his large frame perfectly, showing every flex of his muscles, and his blonde hair is neatly parted. the black tie looped around his neck just pulls it all together. it has you weak at the knees every. single. time.

“hey,” you answer, giving reiner a smile as he stops beside you.

and that’s when your heart lurches at the sight of him.

the sunset highlights reiner’s profile in gold, a heavenly shine that settles upon his blonde lashes and the flawless slope of his nose. the flecks in his irises sparkle – a beautiful mixture of soft browns and muted greens. the only thing you can do right now is admire the man. 

his words are what breaks you out of your daydream.

“work has been crazy lately, huh?” reiner says, focused on the candy-floss clouds and their fluffy shapes.

“well - yeah, pretty much. i don’t want to look at a pen or a piece of paper ever again.”

“that bad?”

“you have no idea. i almost regret marley and paradis reconciling.”

reiner chuckles gently at the joke, but it’s strained. his forehead remains creased, and he’s not really smiling. the emotion there is more … doubtful. it’s like he’s having some sort of inner conflict.

hopefully reiner’s not acting cautious because of the other day. you know he doesn’t return your feelings, and that’s totally okay. you’re happy enough being with him like this. “i’m not mad or anything, y’know.”

reiner stiffens at that. there’s a white flash of teeth when he chews on his lower lip. “i know.”

“good,” you hum, breathing out a sigh of relief. your core twists with envy when you force a grin. bite it back. tease him like always. “so about historia … ”

reiner’s eyes go wide almost comically, and you hear the breath in his lungs leave his firm chest in one exhale. there’s a light blush staining his cheeks now. it’s funny; he’s so goddamn big, yet he’s such a teddy bear.

“y-yeah,” reiner mutters. you observe the way his brows pinch together as he awkwardly shifts in place. it takes a while before the man composes himself again, which is strange.

is he scared or something? what the hell?

“pieck,” reiner hesitates for a moment. the golden strands of his hair ruffle in the wind and he appears ... well, lost. “was she being serious?”

the question is a shocker - jeez, he could have at least let you prepare yourself. a firm ‘no’ almost slips out, but you’ve never been much of a liar. not to reiner, anyway. crossing your arms against your chest, you inhale sharply and nod. avoid staring at him face-to-face. “yep.”

“ … why me?”

reiner says the words with a mixture of spite and anguish, a casual and rumbling voice. you immediately turn your head, frowning. “what?”

“i’ve done so many horrible things.” reiner exhales heavily and stares down at his hands; perhaps he’s imagining all the blood they’ve been stained with. “i betrayed everyone. i killed innocent people - all because i was selfish.”

it’s no surprise that reiner is broken after everything he’s been through, but it pains you to know that he continues to suffer in silence. whatever war is raging inside his ribcage tears him apart piece by piece, and you wish you could carry the burden. 

there’s probably nothing you can say to convince reiner that he was just a kid, a victim of circumstance. there’s nothing that can persuade him to see himself the way you do.

so you decide to tell reiner why you love him. 

you explain the amount of admiration you hold for him. tell him that you love the way he just wants to be someone his comrades can lean on, like a big brother. tell him that you think he’s the most gorgeous person you’ve ever seen and how you think he deserves the world.

the way you spill your guts out snaps every nerve in your body. you don’t say everything you want to – but you tell him enough. a dark flush spreading across your face, you find the courage to look at him.

the world seems to stop on its axis when you find reiner staring right on back. the intensity of his eyes is stunning; they’re lit up with astonishment and affection.

god, the affection. you see it clear as day. maybe one of the greatest regrets in his life is how he forced himself to see you only as a friend.

that’s when he reaches out to you.

reiner retracts his hand twice, unsure, before slowly brushing his fingertips against yours. the touch is so feather-light that you almost can’t feel it. it’s a test - he’s waiting to see if you pull away. you can’t even move if you wanted to, because his fond gaze keeps you rooted to the spot before him. 

when you don’t recoil, reiner finally moves to gently hold your hand; his palm is so much bigger than yours, and your fingers slot together perfectly, like a jigsaw puzzle’s final piece. 

heart thrumming like a hummingbird has been stuffed into your chest, you’re almost at a loss for words and come to a realization.

this utterly amazing man likes you. always has. 

but reiner shoved away the feelings for one simple reason; you deserved ‘better.’ focusing on the old crush he had on historia was a distraction - an attempt to convince himself to stop thinking about you.

because looking at you everyday and not being able to act upon his feelings was too painful.

“is this okay?” reiner asks lowly. there’s a slight pinkness to his cheeks, the color of a selfless love.

by some miracle, you manage to nod dumbly. “yeah, of course. it’s fine.” it’s amazing is what you actually want to say.  

reiner squeezes your hand at the reassurance, a sigh escaping from his throat. “i really—”

you wait for him to finish, but he doesn’t. reiner just searches your profile for signs of discomfort, and then untwines your hands to bravely swipe a thumb along the length of your cheekbone. 

there’s no time to speak because he’s already leaning down.  

the sensation of reiner’s lips pressing against yours lights your skin ablaze; you can feel the curling flames of passion sear your soul, made even more intense by the warmth of the sunlight on your back.

it’s natural, it’s tender, it’s warm.

reiner’s breath rattles into your mouth when you rest both palms against his solid chest and deepen the kiss. the musky smell of his aftershave and cologne envelops you completely, and fuck, it’s so good. your arms wrap around him, fingers passing over the sharp slopes of his shoulder blades.

as much as you wish the kiss could go on endlessly, there are people gathering outside. avoiding any unwanted attention from nosy strangers is very much appreciated.

you pull away to nuzzle your nose into reiner, and he rests his chin on your shoulder, protective arms moving to loop around your waist. it’s such an intimate caress that it sparks your brain into overdrive.

as the rushing sound of the breeze comes back to your ears through the quiet, you tuck the kiss away to be remembered forever. that’s all there is to it. being close to reiner like this - swaying together like wildflowers in the wind - is more important than anything else.

“i like you,” reiner murmurs.

the suddenness of it makes you laugh, and you can feel the upward quirk of reiner’s lips - a whisper of a peaceful smile and a sweet, sweet promise.

[saintshigaraki]

won’t you give me your cruelest smile

↳ DARK ACADEMIA TSUKISHIMA KEI 

pairing: tsukishima kei x gn!reader

word count: 1.4k

excerpt: 

He makes no move to get up as he watches you pack. “You really don’t like me, do you?” He sounds far too pleased for your liking.

“No one likes you,” you snap back, stuffing the last heavy tome in your bag and shouldering it. “You’re an ass.”

a/n: @yamagucji​​ said dark academia tsukki and my brain quite literally short circuited 

tags: enemies-ish to lovers (more like academic rivals to lovers), tsukki being an annoyingly smart condescending history major, reader goes through the five stages of grief when they realize they might actually li- 🤢 like him, a reference to the classic ‘ooooh you wanna kiss me so bad it makes you look stupid’ 

If there is a single, minuscule, barely visible silver lining in having Tsukishima as a partner for your quarter project it is that, without a doubt, he is smart. 

You have to admit, begrudgingly, that his intellect borders on genius-level which is something you use as silent proof to attest to your working theory that there is in fact, no god, or at the very least not a kind one, because if there was they wouldn’t be blessing gremlins like the one sitting across from you with a gift like that. 

He’s quiet now (after about an hour of telling you all the ways your interpretation was oh so very wrong) and content to stare at you lazily, his eyes half-lidded and filled with his specific brand of cruel amusement that leaves you wanting to do nothing more than smack his black-rimmed glasses right off his smug face. 

You take a deep breath and try desperately to quell the utterly unique type of rage he elicits in you, although as always, nothing you do ever quite manages to bring your boiling blood to a simmer. 

He’s twirling his expensive black pen between his stupidly long fingers. Every once in a while the light catches on the onyx stone of his pinky ring which somehow manages to flash directly in your eyes every time. He notices, of course. He notices everything. Which makes you think he’s doing it on purpose just to be an ass.

Which, admittedly, is perfectly in line with everything else he does so, you come to the frustrating conclusion that he most definitely is doing it on purpose. 

“You’re embarrassingly easy to rile up,” he says, interrupting your silent seething, his voice deep and smooth and absolutely dripping with condescending satisfaction. 

Your eyes flash up from the book you’d been only barely processing just to be met with his own golden-brown ones. He’s smirking down at you, of course. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him wear any other sort of expression. 

You want nothing more than to glare at him but that would just be proving his point so instead, you snap your book shut. It rings out loudly in the empty library. 

“It’s late. Let’s start this backup tomorrow.”

He makes no move to get up as he watches you pack. “You really don’t like me, do you?” he sounds far too pleased for your liking. 

“No one likes you,” you snap back, stuffing the last heavy tome in your bag and shouldering it. “You’re an ass.” 

He tilts his head back, exposing his long neck, and laughs. It’s so deep you feel it in your own chest. You just barely manage to suppress a shiver, which thank fuck, because he would’ve most definitely noticed it and you don’t think you’d be able to live that down. 

You make your way towards the front doors but not before he manages to slip on his wool coat and catch up to you, with ease of course, his long legs have become your number one enemy over the quarter because he always, always, catches up with you when you try to speed walk away from him. 

The autumn chill immediately settles into your bones, your skin prickles unpleasantly. You can see your breath in the night air. A shitty end to a shit day. 

You both head down the cobbled street in strangely comfortable silence. He’s close enough that you can feel the heat he radiates and you’re silently thankful for it. 

You get to the fork in the path where he takes his way back to his dorm and you take yours but instead of peeling off left like he usually does he sticks to your side. 

You stop immediately and eye him up warily. “What are you doing?”

He rolls his eyes. “Asking idiotic questions doesn’t really suit you, you know.” 

You say nothing, content to narrow your eyes. 

He rolls his eyes again and lets out a long-suffering sigh. “I’m walking you home, try not to be a brat about it.” 

“You never walk me home,” you point out, suspiciously. 

“You are rather good at pointing out the very obvious, aren’t you?” and before you can respond he already had turned on his heels and started walking. You have to half jog to catch up. 

You watch him out of the corner of your eye with the intent of trying to read his motive but you get stuck on the fact that his cheeks are flushed rather prettily from the cold. 

“You sure do love to stare, don’t you?” he asks rather conversationally. 

You’ve never wanted the ground to open up and swallow you whole more in your entire life. Your cheeks burn hot even in the frigid cold. 

He notices. Of course he does. What does Tsukishima Kei not notice?

“No need to be embarrassed,” he needles cruelly. “Denial can be a brutal beast.”

You only barely manage to stop yourself from asking what exactly he means by that, what exactly he thinks you’re in denial about. 

But you know he wants nothing more than for you to ask so you take a sweet sort of satisfaction in not questioning him further, at least on that front. 

The rest of the walk back to your dorm is spent in less comfortable silence than before. There’s an odd sort of tension in the air, like a rope pulled so tight you can physically feel it starting to fray, getting ready to snap.

It comes to a head when, after getting to your building, instead of immediately going inside you find yourself looking down and shuffling your feet.

You know you should thank him, even if you didn’t ask him to walk you home. You guys never worked this late, you’d lost track of time (it’s scarily easy to lose track of time when arguing with Tsukishima) and you know it was nice of him to walk you home when he’d have to double back another 15 minutes in the freezing cold to get to his place. 

You know you should thank him. It’s the reasonable, polite thing to do. But it’s just so fucking hard to be reasonable and polite when Tsukishima Kei and his galaxy-sized ego are involved. No one in your entire life has been able to get under your skin as he has. It’s like he was perfectly crafted to be your own personal headache. 

You brave a glance up at him and find that he’s standing very, very close and staring, rather intensely, at you. A curiously amused gleam in his eye. 

Your mind stutters and then stops completely, going painfully blank. 

He’s so stupidly pretty. 

His skin is flawless, you’ve never once seen him with even a single pimple, his hair is the nicest pale-blond you’ve ever seen and it falls in perfect tufts against his forehead, but it’s his eyes that always make you shift from foot to foot. They’re such a unique shade of golden-brown, and now, shrouded in the dark and mere inches away from your own face, you’d swear on your life they were practically glowing.

“You’ve got something on your mind?” he asks, his tone anything but sweet. He’s so close you can smell the warm spice of his cologne and the ever-clinging scent of ancient books that seems to follow him wherever he goes. 

“I-” but you can’t seem to put together a coherent sentence. You don’t think you’ve ever hated someone so much in your life. 

Somehow, he’s managed to push in even closer. “You know what I think?”

No, you want to say, and I don’t want to know. Your heart is beating far too fast and you can’t explain why. 

(You know exactly why)

“I think you want to kiss me.”

And just like that the rope snaps and you’re viciously tugging him down by the collar of his too-nice coat so you can smash your lips against his. 

The kiss is brutal. Far too mean with too much teeth. At one point you taste the sting of iron and you can’t tell if the blood is his or yours. 

He backs you up against a wall without breaking the kiss. When he bites at your lip, no doubt cutting it open, you grab a fist full of his hair and tug cruelly and his responding groan tastes so sweet on your tongue. 

He doesn’t pull away until your lungs are screaming for air. 

He’s inches away from you, pupils blown wide, lips swollen (and a little bloody), and his hair is a mess. It’s the most out of sorts you’ve ever seen him. 

If you thought he was pretty before, he’s absolutely beautiful now. 

His smirk widens into a full blown smile and you understand now why he doesn’t show it often. It shows too many teeth, it’s downright wolfish. Predatory, even. 

You don’t really have time to think on it though before he pulls you into another bruising kiss. 

have some dark academia tsukishima headcanons while you’re here

he is without a doubt the most pretentious asshole you will ever meet and and you will HATE yourself for eventually finding him weirdly charming in any capacity

he is, of course, a history major which. if you have ever met pretentious male history majors you will know that this means he is a literal walking, talking, annoyingly tall headache

interrupts professors constantly. does it like he’s getting paid. will argue and argue and argue with them without that dumb condescending smirk ever, ever managing to slip off his face

(the worst part is, he’s honestly probably making a good point most of the time. but you’d quite literally rather die than admit that to him)

he is always walking around campus lazily flipping through leather bound books so old they’re cracked precariously at their spines, all on different ancient civilizations. you’d think that’d mean he’d be running into people but the student body collectively parts like the red sea for him which sets your teeth on edge.

he’s unbelievably arrogant and the worst part is its not baseless like you find yourself so desperately wishing it was

he IS smart, wickedly so. disgustingly, cruelly intelligent and he will use it to pick you apart piece by piece while that stupid fucking smirk stays glued on his face.

(you start to seriously question whether or not he’s even human because how can anyone keep the same, perfectly calculated expression for that long?)

always looks like he stepped straight out of some dark alternate universe vogue photoshoot with his constant rotation of black turtlenecks, long coats, and oxford loafers all tied together by the same 5 rings he’s never seen without, two of which are set with hefty onyx stones

you will be unlucky enough to be paired up with him for a project that will take all quarter long and multiple meet ups a week. when your professor announced your partner, you genuinely consider dropping the class and when you find out you wouldn’t be able to drop the class without switching majors, you genuinely consider switching majors

you don’t. and by the end of the quarter you’re really starting to question whether that was a good thing or not

[katsukikitten]

WARNINGS: 18+ DUB CON/ NON CON? WEREWOLF BAKUGOU, THIS IS PURE FILTH JUST PURE SMUT 

You were never the best at running, especially not through the woods. So it is no surprise your heel snaps off causing you to trip over a small log. Your pelvis bone connects with the thick trunk, brushing your hip as your dress threatens to expose your underwear. 

A howl is heard in the distance paired with something moving through the brush at an ungodly speed, gaining on you much faster than you thought. 

"Fuck." You hiss to yourself, panting as branches seem to reach out. Their sharp, splintered claws grabbing at you and only catching your body con dress. Tearing it piece by piece, you are unsure if your faux bunny ears are still atop your head.It was unfathomable how wrong tonight had gone and how quickly. 

But then again it was Halloween and a full moon at that. They say the full moon has the power to make people act crazy and especially so on a blue moon.  Which made your panicked mind wander to the rumors about this town and what happens every blue moon. There were whispers of the older families having dark secrets. Fairy tales of beasts and mating but a second full moon in a month was so rare those murmurs and scoffs were supposed to be just that, rumors, stories. 

Not actual werewolves who couldn't control their urges during this magical event. The blue moon either filling them with unchecked rage or undeniable lust should they not take the necessary precautions. Although no one would say what exactly those precautions are. 

Your first hint about the rumors being true should have been the local news station. You thought it a Halloween prank when they advised women ages of 20 to 30 to remain indoors for tonight, to lock their windows and doors. To adorn their throats in silver to protect them from unwanted bonding. You had rolled your eyes as you got ready for your daily college classes, jumping into your black skinny jeans and blood red sweater.  

Your second hint should have been the absence of your good friend Kirishima. He always walked you to your English class since his history course was in the same building but this morning he was a no show. He didn't even respond to your texts last night asking if he wanted to go to a Halloween party with you. 

Your final hint should have been when the normally aloof, irritable and "untouchable of the big three" lab partner you had for biology growled in your direction. This would be the first thing he had said all semester.

"Don't go out tonight, got it extra?" His voice is clipped and he is acting strange, his left hand gripping onto his right forearm so harshly a bruise was beginning to bloom. You chalk it up to nerves for the upcoming exams. 

"Oh is someone gonna bite me like the news anchor said?" You giggle, turning your focus back on your work only for the professor to cancel class early. You pack your things as Bakugou sits rigid, still. He fixes you a harsh glare before he stands, pulling the strap of your purse causing you to become a little off balance.  His eyes dance over your frame, over your exposed neck but you do not notice, barely see his canines elongate as he snarls. 

"You'll wish that's all that they did." 

Looking back you wish you had noticed it before, then maybe you wouldn't be in the situation you were in now.

You burst through the trees and find yourself in a clearing. Here you would a sitting duck to whatever the hell was chasing you. Still not believing your eyes and you crossed paths with a giant wolf. Fur golden in the moon light and eyes a haunting, gut wrenching familiar red. It wasn't too long after that did it give chase. 

The howl behind you is too close for comfort as you barely have time to jump into a patch of briars and thick prickly bushes that sit on the edge of a creek. By some odd instinct you grab onto the ice cold mud and smear your arms and part of your neck with it, clenching your jaw so your teeth do not chatter. 

Suddenly a large beast bursts into the clearing, wet nose sniffing at the air and ground before it shifts in the clearing under the moonlight. It is a haunting sight. Bones snap and grind as features twist into grotesque angels until it finally forms into that handsome familiar face. The ash blonde fur retreats until it is only on the top of his head, faded beneath while the top looks finger brushed and wild. He is shirtless and his pants are torn from the calf down, the only beastly feature he keeps is the glow of his blood red eyes. You swallow, biting your lip to stop from shaking; this is not the Bakugou you knew. Not that you knew him that well in the first place but there was some power in having a crush. You had learned his mannerisms in the first year here at University, somehow always in a class with him, with one of the three legendary "heartthrobs" of the school. He was as hot headed as the rumors said and he was just as handsome if not more so. Itching for a fight and yet oddly quiet when in close proximity to you. An action you took to mean he either hated you or didn't even know you existed. 

So it's safe to say you're unfamiliar with this manic, wolfish grin. 

Feral incarnate. 

He sniffs the air. 

"Where are you little ooooonnne?" He calls cruelly, "I can smell you." 

His body goes through the motions of tensing and relaxing, another howl breaks through the eerie silence but this time much farther away. Bakugou's ears perk, his grin twisting in such a way it screams malice, unbridled rage and yet excitement. 

"You must be in your mortal heat. Guess I'm not the only one who can smell it. Didn't I tell you not to go out tonight?" His voice is dark, haunting as the wind catches down from you, carrying your scent away from him. 

"I knew your dumb ass would ignore me, I took a precaution to that and yet you didn't even bring your fucking purse?!" 

Your purse? 

Is that how that red cloth and weird silver dollar got into the bottom of your purse? 

Bakugou shifts his weight, giving his back to you as he prepares for something coming that you cannot hear. In the meantime you allow your eyes to study his physic, following his scarred back, broad shoulders all the way down to his deadly hands. One of his palms is burned in the shape of a perfect circle, you swallow thickly. The sound causes his ears to twitch and look over his shoulder, making eye contact with you through the brush. 

But he does not have time to react as a black furred beast with glowing ruby eyes jumps into the clearing. Sniffing the air wildly before baring his teeth towards Bakugou. The beast huffs and growls before finally shifting into his human form, a cold sweat settles in your bones. 

"Where the fuck is she?" You have never heard your friend use a tone so dark as Eijiro continues to pace, keeping his eyes glued to Bakugou. 

"Fuck off Kirishima, shes mine." 

"I don't see a bonding mark on her yet." Its more a feral growl than anything, "You said you didn't waste your time on mortals." 

"I fucking changed my mind. And you know why, her smell is…" He inhales deeply, testing to see how much of you can be sensed. The most he can tell is that you're close by but he cannot pinpoint you, he fights to keep his eyes from falling over his shoulders to see you. 

He's dying to know how you masked your scent without with an Alpha's pheromones or a silver piece. But that would have to wait, at least if he wanted to ensure it was his seed that stuffed you. He bites his lip, the thought sends a shiver down his spine. First he had to deal with Kirishima then he could take his time making you his. 

"Well you know how it is don't ya? Didn't know you were such a pervert, Eiji. Is that why you walked her to class? Hoping she'd make you her boyfriend or some sappy shit?" Bakugou taunts, head tilting in mock question, "Guess you can't hold back anymore can you? Dreaming about giving her your knot?" 

Kirishima bares his teeth, fighting the urge to buck at another Alpha, especially one he knows he will have to fight with full force. He opens his sharp toothed mouth to retort but yet another beast finds it's way into the clearing coming from the opposite of Kirishima but to the right of Bakugou. 

The beast looks wild, heterochromatic eyes glisten beneath the full moon as white and red fur clash all the way down his spine. A collar around his throat catches the light as a broken chain drags across the ground, there are shackles around his wrists and ankles as well. Bakugou smirks, adrenaline fueling his excitement over what is about to be a damn good fight. 

"You watchin little slut? Look at what your scent can do." He changes his stance into that of a fight, "You've got two normally non aggressive Aplahs ready to get their asses handed to them and for fucking what?"

The three of them shift their eyes and bodies this way and that before Bakugou licks his teeth.  

"God I can't wait to bury my face in that soaked pussy." He lunges, transforming mid leap into a hauntingly powerful wolf. His teeth are exposed, lip curled up in a snarl as his targets Kirishima first.  Kirishima barely shape shifts in time, pearly white teeth sink deep into his shoulder before gnashing at his throat. Deafening growls and yowling surround the clearing. Kirishima attempts to kick Bakugou off of him as they tumble closer to who you assume is Todoroki who bares his teeth. He launches himself at the other Alphas. His teeth find purchase in Bakugou's shoulder, blood staining white and blonde fur a like. There is no yelp or howl, just a stomach churning growl before Bakugou turns his attention towards the two toned wolf. Snapping his jaw as he attempts to get a grip on the chained wolf who dodges. Bakugou's teeth gleam with dripping crimson, a snarl of warning before he propels himself towards Todoroki. Sharp teeth bite at two toned fur as Shoto bares his teeth, growling, snapping his jaw at his opponent. Kirishima begins to get to his feet, limping as he avoid putting weight onto one of his front legs, crimson drips down onto the chilled dirt. He keeps his ruby red eyes on the two dancing wolves.

Bakugou strikes faster than Todoroki can dodge, and angry teeth clamp down at Todoroki's throat. The collar snaps from the force before Bakugou sinks his fangs deep into Todoroki's throat. 

An ear ringing yelp is heard as blood pools into Bakugou's stained muzzle, white fur marred in crimson as Todoroki begins to sway. As the hot head's jaw is locked onto tender flesh, Kirishima attacks. Biting at the nape of Bakugou's neck and yanking him from Todoroki with force, tossing him with ease. The light colored wolf flies into trees snapping the thick oaks as if they were twigs. Buying some time for the two injured wolves, any other alpha would have seen this as a win, knowing the two from rival families would retreat to lick their wounds. 

But Bakugou was no normal alpha. This gut clenching fight taught you as much. Todoroki struggles to keep consciousness, his throat dripping an insane amount of blood. He falls to his side huffing almost wheezing before he shifts back into human form, shackles shrinking to readjust to his wrists. Kirishima whines nudging at the unconscious, possibly dead man. All the while crimson red eyes peer through the unsettled dust before soaring through the air, landing on top of the black wolf. Pinning his back onto the ground as dark paws claw at bared teeth. Trying desperately to keep him at bay but with one fucked front paw it is a futile attempt. Quickly Bakugou overpowers him, sinking his teeth too deep into his friend's throat and keeping his muzzle there until the whining and yelping stops. Until he too shifts back to his human form. 

You fight to keep your own whimpering in, still hidden in the brush while you hoped, prayed that he somehow got disoriented. That he forgot where you were. 

His head snaps towards you, mouth dripping saliva and thick red blood. His eyes glow as his stalks closer. He stops just before the underbrush shifting back into that devilishly handsome face. He is soaked in blood, scratches line his face and chest. He wipes at his mouth but not once does his fist wipe away the cocky smile he holds. 

He scares you but what scares you most is how your body is reacting to such a gruesome sight. A muscular man dripping in sticky red, droplets tracing the outline of his abs and a smile of triumph as two people lie wounded, possibly dead behind him. It made your pussy throb, the strength, the raw need and want to win and for what? For you, for your essence and the promise of a futile womb. 

He can smell your fear as he yanks you from the bushes and thorns. 

"Don't worry, it's not my blood." He grins, pulling you closer to him as you try to push away. Just like you're trying to push away these odd feelings that swirl in your chest, in your stomach; of a weird pride and arousal. It was of no use, like pushing dead weight up a forty five degree hill, this too was a losing battle.  

"K..kirishima." Your eyes are glued to his unmoving body, causing a deep rage to form in Bakugou's chest. He grips your chin forcing you to look at him his other hand goes straight for your sex, cupping the underwear allowing his fingers to swipe over the damp fabric. 

"Don't you ever say his fucking name while you're wet for me. Got it?" His fingers are causing divots in your cheeks as you whimper from his contrasting touch. Harsh grip, soft strokes. As if reading your mind he takes a deep breath, not meaning to inhale so much of you.  

"They ain't dead, you're worth the trouble. But not that much trouble. Now focus on me." He let's go of you, drinking you in smirking when he sees your costume. Or what's left of it anyway. 

Thick irony that you would choose to be a bunny of all nights. He fingers the fake ears with earnest. 

"Fitting." He purrs before taking both of his hands to the front collar of your dress, ripping the fabric from your torso. He growls audibly mumbling to himself "Much better." As you stand with your tits exposed, your lacy underwear catching his attention beneath fishnet tights. He bites his bottom lip, pulling you to him as he buries his face into your tits. Nipping sucking and biting as he eases your buckling legs towards the ground. 

"Fuuuuck." He groans, pressing his cheek harshly against yours, trying to scent you as best he can without claiming you fully.  It's hard, fuck is it hard. It always has been, since his first class with you.  

You weren't a beta nor an omega. Hell you were of no wolf relation and yet you reeked, oozed of pheromones that drove him and apparently the others mad. He had tried to protect you, he really had, scenting a piece of an old t-shirt and even burning himself on silver. 

He wanted you, he needed you, his cock ached for you. Weeping now at your arousal making his canines ache with an even greater pain. 

But you were fucking mortal and he was betrothed. Technically all three of the aplahs in that clearing were betrothed to omegas.  It was evident your smell seduced them as well. 

He brings himself to your shoulder, biting hard enough to draw blood, claws, stuck halfway between human and wolf, rake down your back and ass making ribbons of the flesh. Still you moan and he occasionally swallows those whole as he kisses you. Letting you taste copper as his tongue placates yours, he subconsciously secretes soothing and lustful hormones and they are strong enough to make even you high. His hand finds your nipple and when you arch into him he loses his shit. Breaking the kiss to sniff you, nosing and biting until he finds that sweet spot. He opens his mouth, salivating at the thought as his teeth and cock beg for relief. He freezes, squeezing you to him for a moment. The action causes your ribs to creak in protest and yet you feel warm, safe. 

His mouth hovers over your pulse point, the salty sweet taste of you, breaths away from the exact spot he would need to sink his aching teeth into to make you his.  

In a quick motion and a test of will he shoves you onto your back, ripping at the fabric between your thighs after he forces your legs open. You do nothing to stop him, not that could. 

Not that you would.  

He slips his tongue between your folds and licks up, swirling the wet muscle when you buck against him. He hooks his arms around your legs gaining control over your hips and eats. 

See Bakugou is a glutton and he will not stop until he is satisfied. It would be a gift and a curse for you.  

He works his mouth against you thoroughly as the coil in your stomach snaps over and over again. Your hand fisting his hair as you cry out in hoarse gasps, legs shaking around his head, thighs squeezing his skull as he coaxes another high from you. 

Your entire body is shaking, worn out already from however long he sucked, nipped and lapped at your core. Finally he seemed to come up for air but only to watch your sex convulse. He looks up to you causing your heart to skip a beat. His hair is that much more wild, his intense gaze glowing red in the low light and his face glistens with your slick.

"Fuck!" You cry out, letting your head fall back into the ground. 

"What's wrong bunny? Can't handle a little head?" He shoves two fingers deeply into you making a come here motion. You ride another body quaking high as he tries to stretch you to accommodate him. His breathing becomes frantic, as he chases a smell you're emitting. Thrusting harshly into you as his other hand abusesyour clit until that deliciously addicting smell he's chasing crescendos. Your scream echoes in the woods as clear liquid shoots over Bakugou's forearms, all the while you held fluttering eye contact, practically melting in his hands. His fangs grow and he cannot hold himself back any longer. He shoves his pants all the way down, even off of his ankles as he sinks his lengthy girth into you in a snap of his hips. A mixture of pain and pleasure shoot through you like a live wire as you begin to mewl, needing him to move. 

"More, more." You whine, tears prick your eyes as he smiles a deadly smirk. 

"You're such a talkative cock sleeve. You want my knot that bad? Then take it." He thrusts into you setting a deep harsh pace. Alternating between quick succession and slow deep throats. Biting at the skin of your chest and shoulders, torturing you in such a way.  

Punishing you for being mortal. 

"Why?" It's a guttural growl as your mind is lost on another plane, "Why do you have to be mortal?" 

He emphasizes each word with a thrust of his hips earning him a lovely raspy moan from you.

"I want to...to fucking mark you.  Make you mine. The thought of any other alpha or even fucking human touching you…." His thoughts have him chasing two very dangerous highs, snapping his hips so he comes closer to your throat.  

"Please...please Bakugou." You whimpering encourages him. 

He breathes you in, tasting you without even a flicker of his tongue. Your arousal, your damp hair sticking to the column of your throat, the faint scent of your shampoo. 

Somehow he reigns himself in again. Teeth elongated enough they almost scrape your skin.  His breath comes out hot and heavy as you squirm beneath him for friction, wanting nothing more than to be filled. If he does this, if he makes you his mate, it would surely complicate everything. 

"You have to tell me you want it." He's panting, vulnerable as he looks at you, your heart shatters from the look. Deafening reason and logic as it screams how badly you want to be his and he yours. 

"Not just because it feels fucking good right now." His voice is husky, rasped as he fights the weight of his instincts, "Not because I'm fucking hot or a novelty to you mortals. If I mark you, you'll always feel something for me and vice versa. We'll be tethered and attracted to one another even if we fucking hate each other." 

Slowly you nod, again he grabs onto your chin, sliding it down to your throat as he squeezes. 

"This isn't some good acid trip, this isnt some fucking dream. You'll have to meet the elders. You'll have to deal with my ruts." Again he's panting, shaking from holding himself back, having half a mind to just kill you. Still you do not move away from his touch. 

"My jealousy. My rage. My need for territory control. I'll come home dripping in blood. I'll kill other Alpahs." He breathes your name in such a way you clench around him. He growls from the sensation. You struggle to speak beneath his grip, head floating but some how in the right spot. 

"I...I can handle it. Mark me Bakugou Katsuki. Fucking make me yours, fill me use me. Just…" He stares into your eyes until he can no longer take it. Pounding into you in a harsh pace, finally giving in  

"You'll take my knot like a good slut won't you?" His eyes watch you nod before they fall to your breasts. Watching them bounce from the force of his thrusts. His hips turn sloppy as your high builds again. You claw at his back and his smells your high as he tries to time it right. He sinks his teeth into your throat, keeping it just a hair above a marking. 

You feel a growing pressure as his tip stretches you even more until he finally sinks his teeth into you with a grown. His thrusts stuttering as hot ropes paint your walls. Your cunt flutters around it as all you can do is become limp in his grip. His arms are fully around you, his mouth still to your throat as he slowly eases up. His body giving off a bonding hormone so strong that even your moral senses can pick up on. It you drown in a high scented in spice caramel and heat.  He pants heavily, his arms shaking as he kisses you fiercely, teeth bumping into yours before he pulls back.

Weakly you claw at him to hold him as he whispers praises. He lifts you, pulling you towards his chest to keep you safe as you begin to drift. His mouth is pressed to your ear and you can hear the cocky smile in his voice. 

"Get some rest while you still can mate." His hand snakes around to your stomach, his fingers lightly caressing the skin.

"We aren't done until you're carrying my pups."

Tags

@katsukisprincess @avellanagamer100 @bakugotrashpanda my number one fan

[whumpurr]

Adrien and Sawdust part 2

Warnings: pet whump (and all that comes with that), disordered eating, emeto, unreliable narrator, a very brief and vague mention of past non con

masterlist

part 1

“Shit!” Adrien gasped, immediately and instinctively lunging forward to... Help? Hold? Sawdust, only to have the poor boy yelp and try to get away from Adrien, tipping over onto his side and almost falling into his own vomit. Adrien yanked himself back. The vomit was mostly bile, Adrien wasn’t sure when the last time Sawdust had a real meal was.

“I’m- m- so-sorry, Saw-Sawdust is so-orry,” Sawdust warbled out past trembling, wet lips.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, shh,” He didn’t reach towards him again, instead holding his hands passively in front of his own body. “Breathe for me, okay? I’ve got a mop somewhere, hang on.” Adrien gave the pet some space as he got up, finding a mop and a bucket. He quickly came back and gets to work cleaning up.

“Let- I can help, Master,” Sawdust whimpered, pushing himself to be on his hands and knees once again.

“No, no it’s fine.” Adrien finished cleaning quickly, pushing the mop and bucket off to the side to deal with later. “Let me get you some water, can I see your hands? I’ll get the tape off of them.”

Sawdust simply furrowed his brow and tilted his head.

--

Master wanted… Sawdust’s paws? Surely it’s to punish him for making a mess of the floor and then allowing Master to do all the work in cleaning it up. What will Master do? Will he use his belt on Sawdust’s arms? Or worse, a knife? Will he burn him?

It’s only what Sawdust deserves after all.

He shakily sat back on his bent legs and raised his paws for his master, trying to keep himself from crying. He wasn’t allowed to cry until the punishment actually started. He didn’t have anything to cry about yet, and if he started, then Master would only make the punishment worse, give him something to really cry about.

Master got up and went back into the kitchen. Sawdust remained with his arms out until he spotted Master’s tall form returning.

Holding a pair of scissors.

Sawdust tried to be brave, he really did. He wanted to be a good pet for his new master, his new master who was nice enough to bring him into his house instead of leaving him outside in the cold. But as Master kneeled down in front of Sawdust, and took one of his paws in his calloused fingers, tears finally rolled down Sawdust’s cheeks and he screamed, pulling his paws back to his chest.

--

Adrien dropped the scissors immediately, leaning back. He hadn’t held Sawdust’s hand that hard, he didn't understand what was happening.

“I’m sorry, Master!” Sawdust screams out, “I will behave, I promise, it won’t- won’t happen again!” He choked on his own sobs as he squeezed his eyes shut.

“What’s wrong, buddy?” Adrien asked, brow furrowed in concern, “I was just gonna cut the tape of your hands, did I hurt you?”

Sawdust seemed to be too far gone into his panic, holding his hands to his chest and screaming as he curled up as small as he could. He was hiccupping and sobbing so much that Adrien was scared he was going to make himself sick again. He’d turned his side to Adrien, and the man finally got to get a better look at Sawdust.

His body was bony, he could see the ridges of his spine through his tattered t-shirt. Along his legs were mazes of scares, splattered with bruises that were old enough at least that they were turning yellow. Adrien assumed that the people with that organization that had him weren’t hurting him, at least. From the looks of it though, they certainly weren’t feeding him.

Adrien was well aware that he was intimidating, especially to someone so small. Over six feet tall, his long black hair tied back in a low pony tail, his muscular arms and strong hands holding a pair of scissors; it couldn’t have looked good to Sawdust. He moved further back away from him, but Sawdust didn’t stop wailing. Adrien backed up until his back was pressed to the back of the sofa, and only then did Sawdust even open his eyes.

The small form of the pet hiccupped, wide, watery eyes peeking out from his curled form.

Adrien found himself somewhat curled up as well, knees drawn up just a bit, his socked feet pressed to the carpet. As Sawdust looked at him, Adrien gave as docile a smile as he could and a gentle wave. Sawdust’s bottom lip wobbled and his breath hitched with his tear filled gasps, eyes and cheeks a contrasting red to the sickly pallor of the rest of his body.

“I know you can understand me.” Adrien said, voice soft, “I… I guess you’re not going to believe me though. I understand that. I’m not going to hurt you. I’m not quite interested- uh- in being your master, either.”

Sawdust’s eyes went wide and his brow pinched, his whole body flinching in response to that.

“I’m not gonna give you away, either!” Adrien hurried to correct himself. “I- Okay, look, sorry. I think maybe,” He glanced out at the window, seeing that the sun was beginning to set. “Maybe you should just get some rest. I can show you your room, if you’ll come with me.”

Adrien stood to his full height, Sawdust warily followed behind him on all fours. The pet’s breath was still coming out in shaky gasps and whines as he choked back the tears that wanted to fall. His body was unsteady, even on his hands and knees. Adrien wouldn’t dare try to have him walk yet, he didn’t exactly want Sawdust to fall and hit his head on something.

Luckily, the stairs didn’t hinder Sawdust too much as he crawled up them to the second story. Adrien flicked on lights as he went, the long corridor seeming less empty just with the presence of Sawdust in his home. His hand found the golden knob of the door, the one that led into the guest room that he’d found himself sleeping in not too long ago.

He’d since moved back into the master bedroom, the guest room having been unused since that point a couple weeks ago. He pushed the door open, stepping inside and holding it for Sawdust to follow. The room hadn’t had enough time to take on any sort of musty scent, thankfully.

“This is going to be your room. Get some rest, okay?”

Sawdust crept into the room and sat down. The window was guarded by some thin curtains that let in some of the setting sunlight, so Adrien didn’t turn on the light as he left the room, shutting the door quietly.

He lingered outside the bedroom for a moment, but he didn’t hear any movement. No banging at the door or trying to escape through the window. That was good at least. He turned, footsteps heavy as he went back downstairs.

As Adrien surveyed his home, his eyes caught on the duffel bag that his pet came with, the bag that he hadn’t gone through yet. It was a bit dirty, nowhere near as filthy as Sawdust, but still. He picked it up- it was surprisingly light- and sat down on the couch with it on his lap. The zipper pulled easily and he dragged it open, peering into the bag, scared of what he’d find. Some kind of torture device, maybe?

He was met with piles of…

Dog ear headbands. And beneath them, fake tails with belt loops at the base. Adrien’s brow creased and he blinked down at them for a couple seconds, reaching in and pulling one out. They came in matching sets, one pair of ears to one tail. They ranged from browns that matched Sawdust’s hair, to bright blues and reds, and snowy whites.

They were all in perfect condition, like the ones that Sawdust had on at the moment. Adrien had a suspicion that Sawdust’s previous owner practiced more upkeep on these than on the pet himself. Adrien took them out, setting them all aside, each pair of ears with its respective tail, laid out nicely on the couch next to him. Little stray hairs of fake fur laid across his clothing and floated through the air by the end of it. There were seven sets, all together.

“Is he going to want these back?” Adrien wondered to himself, turning one of the tails over in his hands. “I’m not going to force him to wear them. Or the collar for that matter, but…” He wasn’t quite sure if Sawdust would be comfortable without them. Sawdust seemed to think through and through that he was a dog, and Adrien was worried about upsetting him.

There was one more thing in the bag. A folded piece of notebook paper. Adrien fished it out and unfolded it, eyes scanning the words laid out in front of him.

“Your name is Sawdust.

You’re just a dumb mutt, you don’t know what’s best for you, so listen to me at all times.

This bag is yours. The things in it are yours. Always take care of them, because they’re gifts from your master.

Don’t eat human food. It will make you sick. Dogs are supposed to eat dog food.

Don’t trouble your master. He has better things to do.

Don’t hurt the other dogs. They earn me money and you don’t.

Behave. Always.

You’re a dog for your master to treat and use however he wants.

If you follow these rules, you’ll always be taken care of and cared for, and loved.”

Adrien’s stomach churned as he read line after line. Was this a note for Sawdust from his previous master? His heart ached. If you follow these rules, you’ll be loved. The poor pet, forced to earn any sort of care, Adrien couldn’t restrain the feelings that bubbled up in him at that. The anger, the rage, the deep sadness. A few hot tears rolled down his cheeks, and he quickly wiped them away. He wanted so badly to go to Sawdust and hold him, feed him, and tell him that he was safe here, but he didn’t know how Sawdust would react to that, and he doubted that he’d believe him at all anyways.

His head was swimming with things that he could do, things he should do. He decided to settle on focusing on what needed to happen first. He snatched his keys off of his kitchen counter and left the house, locking it up tight behind him.

Adrien… He didn’t exactly trust that Sawdust didn’t want to run. He was, however, fairly certain that Sawdust would be too scared to run, and he didn’t think that Sawdust knew how to open a door or unlock the lock on it.

The car was noisy starting up, the engine sputtering for a moment. Adrien was certain that Sawdust must have heard that, and he wondered if the pet knew that Adrien was leaving for a minute.

The sun was setting, there was only a limited amount of time Adrien had to get what he needed, so he headed off to the grocery store as fast as he could make it. He knew that in order to pick up everything he needed, he’d actually have to make his way into town. As much as he despised that, he didn’t want to miss his window and have to wait until the next day to get the items.

Buildings began to pop up here and there as the road turned from dirt to pavement, the area only getting more densely populated as he continued on. His hands unconsciously gripped the steering wheel tighter as he saw more and more people out and about. He found his way into the city, spotting people laughing, enjoying a night out.

Adrien didn’t remember the last time he’d done that. He almost wanted to do that, gather some friends and go to a bar for a drink or two some time.

“What friends? You wouldn’t even have fun like that, anyways.” He chuckled to himself as he pulled into a parking space in front of the grocery. He put a face mask on over his mouth and nose, and stuffed his long hair up into a beanie. Anything to hide any part of him.

Adrien wasn’t comfortable in crowds anymore. The noise, the activity, it was all too many things for him to keep track of, but it was a weekday so he was holding out hope that the store wouldn’t be too full. The parking lot wasn’t full, at least.

He took a deep breath and opened the car door, getting out and making his way into and through the grocery store as quickly as he could. He snagged one of the small carts and pushed it along, picking up everything he’d made a mental note of.

“Dog food, dog food,” Adrien muttered, scanning the placards above the aisles to find what he was looking for, eventually darting down towards the pet care section. He felt sick picking up a small bag of dog kibble and throwing it into the cart. “Dogs can eat anything, though, can’t they?”

Under the realization that dogs could technically eat human food, at least table scraps, Adrien glanced down at the slumped bag of chow. He could at least try with some human food. Sawdust might be hungry enough that he’d accept it, especially if it was things that would normally be given to dogs, like meat. The pet certainly looked like he could use some meat, and Adrien was pretty sure that he had some left overs from take out a couple nights ago.

Adrien did his best to keep his head down as he got his shopping done. The eyes of other shoppers were boring holes through his body, and the last thing he wanted to do was make eye contact with any of them. It made his skin crawl, but it wasn’t an option to simply order the things he needed online, it was nothing short of necessary to get them that night. He put dog food and a few TV dinners in his cart, eventually making his way over to the cereal aisle to pick up some more of that when a specific item caught his eye.

A box of unfrosted wheat cereal. The pieces seemed to be rolled up into an almost pellet like shape, and without the sugar it almost resembled dog food. Adrien took it off the shelf and turned it over in his hands, reading the ingredients. It seemed as though it was a lot more healthy for people than dog food, and he could probably trick Sawdust into thinking that it was dog food, albeit some strange, fancy type. He tossed it into the cart along with something sweet and sugary for himself before wheeling the cart along. Next stop, something to deal with Sawdust’s hygiene.

As much as he didn’t want to bring it up around the pet, Sawdust was far from clean. He didn’t know if Sawdust would allow him to bathe him, or if he’d panic, or if he’d go along with it against his actual will. What’s more, Adrien wasn’t sure if Sawdust would let him bathe him with human shampoo. Better to be safe than sorry, Adrien thought as he grabbed some puppy shampoo and put it into the cart. He didn’t want to have to come back out.

Adrien picked up a few more essentials and self checked out as quickly as he could, finding that it was already dark by the time he made it out of the store. While he pulled out of his parking spot, all he could hope was that Sawdust was getting some rest while he was out.

--

Sawdust was not resting at all. The instant Master left, Sawdust slunk to one of the corners and curled up there, back to the walls’ intersection and legs pulled up to hide behind. His eyes were wide and wild, frantically glancing around the room, so intense and panicked it made his head and heart pound.

Being in a bedroom never meant good things for Sawdust. Dogs belong outside in the yard or in the shed, being in the bedroom meant horrible things. Sawdust tried over and over to swallow down his worry, wanting so badly to believe that his new master wouldn’t be so cruel to him. The seconds ticked by like molasses, the time Master was away felt like an eternity, not because Sawdust wanted to see him, but because the pet spent each moment catastrophizing and thinking up even worse outcomes.

His stomach felt like it was eating itself. He should’ve been grateful, really, the last people he was with may have kept him in his kennel for hours and hours, but he had gotten the chance to eat just before being put up for adoption. At least they understood that dogs can’t eat human food.

Sawdust’s gut twisted with an obscene vitriol towards his new master, just for a moment. His new master mustn’t have been smart at all to try and feed him human food. Or maybe he thought Sawdust was too stupid to realize what it was, or maybe it was some kind of test to see if he’d take it.

No, no. Sawdust shouldn’t be thinking such things about somebody who was nice enough to not keep him outside. Somebody who could end his life so easily. Sawdust was glad that such feelings didn’t come often. They would only occasionally drift in, and he’d crush them down just as often. He was happy that most times, he was content with just being a stupid pet who didn’t know any better than what their master wanted for them.

He took a couple deep breaths, wincing in the way his ribs ached at the stretch, though some part of him felt justice in the pain. It was what he deserved for thinking such thoughts, after all. He exhaled shakily, body trembling.

Sawdust didn’t know where his master had gone off to. Maybe to get some friends to break him in with. Whatever the future held, it was the future. And though Sawdust knew unbearably well that nothing could stop it from coming, he found some comfort in its certainty.

For the time being, he would make himself as small as possible, take up the smallest amount of space he could, and hope.

-----------

Taglist: @starnight-whump @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @neuro-whump @whump-me-all-night-long @cupcakes-and-pain @whumpzone

[beyondspaceandstars]

Around You Neck

Bonus: Part 3

Relationship: Helmut Zemo x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Reader Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, penetrative sex, fingering, dirty talk, exhibitionism, voyeurism, slight degradation, choking, slight metal arm kink - 18+, minors DNI Summary: Something was sparked inside you after Bucky let Zemo watch you two. Now you want to take it a little farther with Zemo but you also want Bucky there as a bit of a...guide. A/N: this was actually requested (see below)! I never, ever thought the original Around You Neck would be taken this far but it certainly has gone on a journey. You don’t technically need to read each part to understand this one but if you’d like to see the progression, please feel free. I hope this lives up to any and all expectations!

Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 2

As much as you didn’t totally want to admit it, you couldn’t stop thinking about Zemo. 

Ever since the sexual ventures you had partaken in with him and Bucky, your opinion on him had...shifted. While, no, you weren’t looking at him as some sort of romantic conquer (you were still very much dedicated to your boyfriend) you couldn’t help but wonder what it’d be like for him to join again. Maybe this time a bit more...hands-on.

Truly, though, you never thought you were actually going to act on these ideas. In fact, you figured you hid your wandering mind pretty well. Some sneaky glances at Zemo and brushes of hands weren’t much to raise any alarms, especially when you were constantly in close proximity with said person. It truly didn’t get closer than being in their literal home. But you forgot to take into account the fact Bucky wasn’t exactly of normal human nature. His senses were dialed up to eleven - especially when you were in the room. 

Your shameful confession came out one afternoon. Bucky had heard you giggle at something Zemo had said and nearly punched a hole through the nearest wall before grabbing your arm. While nothing crazy, he did throw you into the nearest room with some force, anger practically emitting from him in waves.

“What the fuck are you doing?” He asked once the room to the door was shut. You backed away, quite surprised by the outburst, as Bucky stalked towards you, seething.

“W-What?”

“Don’t try to blame dumb with me,” he scoffed, arms folded with a pointed look on his face. “Why are you making googly eyes at Zemo?”

“Googly eyes-,”

Bucky cut you off. “And laughing like he’s the funniest fucking person on the planet? What game are you playing here, dear?”

That goddamn nickname made you cringe. Ever since Zemo restored to calling you that during the intimate encounter, Bucky hasn’t let it go, using it like some weapon. 

You shake your head, trying your best to play this off. Sure, you had some words of explanation for your boyfriend but you didn’t want it to come out right now. “I-I really don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You don’t know what I’m talking about?” Bucky raised his brows in surprise. “So, you haven’t been shooting little glances at him? Or how about when your hand just so happens to end up on his shoulder? That’s definitely my favorite.” His tone was so lifeless. You gulped.

An awkward pause settled as you tried averting your gaze anywhere but at your annoyed boyfriend. This task proved to be impossible. “Bucky, please-,”

“You want to be with him, don’t you?” His question filled the room. “God, I knew this was going to happen. I never should’ve…”

You began shaking your head furiously. “Not in that way.”

“Not in that… Well then in what fucking way?”

You looked down at your hands, fiddling with your fingers anxiously. You took a deep breath. “I think we should… We should bring him into our, um, activities again.”

The silence that followed your confession was nerve-wracking. You didn’t have the guts to look at Bucky, just standing there patiently waiting on his response. The longer he stalled the more foolish you felt like you had actually cheated on him when that wasn’t anywhere near the truth. 

For a moment, you thought he wasn’t going to say anything, just storm out or something, but instead, he let out a nervous cough and asked, “In what way would you- would you want him to join us?”

You slowly gather the courage to face your boyfriend again. He looked genuinely curious, lacking any sort of rage you had assumed would be present. No, instead, he appeared interested, not even mocking you in any way. This all made you feel quite more comfortable about the truth getting out. You took a moment to recollect yourself and get your pounding heart under control.

“Well… I can’t deny that I want to sleep with him.”

“I knew it-,”

“But,” your voice raised, cutting off Bucky, “I want you there to sort of, like, l-lead him.”

Bucky cocked his head. “Lead him?”

You nodded, taking a few steps closer to your boyfriend, practically as close as you humanly could. “Tell him what to do, how to please me. Only you know that, honey.” You chuckled, placing a light hand on his chest. “Picture it: Another man wants to ravish me, but you… Only you know how to get me going. Only you know what I want, how to make me squirm. Only you can teach him and wouldn’t that just be…” Your words trailed off as your eyes fluttered shut at the thought, a soft moan leaving your lips. When you opened them again, Bucky was searching your face with great intensity. 

“You really want this, don’t you?” He asked. You shyly nodded. Bucky took a moment before continuing, “You want to be watched while you get fucked again?”

“Bucky…”

He let out a dangerous laugh. “My naughty little exhibitionist,” he shook his head, a knowing smirk playing at his lips now. You couldn’t believe he was coming around to the idea but the fact he was made your core already so wet. “Okay, doll. Let’s see what we can do.”

***

Bucky had decided to take the lead when it came to bringing this up with Zemo. Still ever such the dominant figure in your relationship, he instructed you to wait in the guest room you had been lent while he approached the Baron. 

Amazingly, you didn’t have to wait long. Within moments, your heart was dropping as the door to the room was pushed open by Bucky. Zemo followed swiftly behind with an unreadable expression.

Both men stopped at the foot of the bed, right in front of you. You looked up at them, curiously.

“So - So did you explain…”

“James did enlighten me with your...desires,” Zemo said, a little smirk playing on his lips. “I must say, dear. You are quite the little minx.”

Your jaw went slack at his words, unsure of what to say. Only Bucky liked calling you that. But you certainly didn’t hate it rolling off Zemo’s tongue like that. 

“Maybe you should cool it with the pet names,” Bucky snapped. 

Zemo glanced at him. “I don’t know, James, she seems to enjoy it.”

You clenched your thighs, unable to deny it. Bucky didn’t miss that little movement but chose to not acknowledge it. 

“I’m taking the lead here and if I say no pet names then there are no pet names,” Bucky said, his voice slow and serious as he stared down Zemo. “Got it?” You couldn’t believe the sight in front of you. Nothing had even explicitly happened yet and there was already a puddle forming in your panties. 

“Very well,” Zemo eventually agreed. Slowly, right in front of you, he began removing articles of his clothing. This was happening. “How would you like me then?”

“I-,”

Bucky cut you off. “When you’re done, undress her.” Zemo didn’t say anything but just nodded, stripping down until he was in all his bare glory right in front of you. You tried to not stare, focusing instead strictly on his face which held the tiniest smirk, as he began teasingly running his hands under the fabric of your shirt. 

You couldn’t believe how hot you were finding this. Your control was pretty much gone, all solely in the trust of Bucky and Zemo. A diabolical pair. You obeyed when Zemo motioned for you to lift your arms. Within no time, you were totally open and bare in front of the men. 

Zemo’s hand lingered on your face, stroking your cheek softly. You gasped at the motions. He came close to running his thumb along your lips but then Bucky spoke up, “Enough. Lay her down.” 

Zemo didn’t waste another second pushing you back onto the bed. He was crawling on top of you in no time, not waiting for another command before capturing your lips with his. It felt like a brand new world. His movements in the kiss, deep and powerful, were so unlike Bucky’s. Bucky’s had meaning, years of love behind them. There was nothing like that with Zemo, just the understanding of what you’re here to do. It took your breath away. 

Bucky scoffed when you two pulled apart. “I’ll let that slide for now. Start warming her up, touch her. It won’t take much, though. Can already see she’s dripping onto the sheets.”

Your cheeks burned at the borderline degrading words from your boyfriend but Zemo didn’t look phased. Instead, while one hand was planted next to your head, his other began running up and down you. His fingers were so light and teasing. They ran over your breast, pulling lightly at your skin, earning a surprised gasp from you. Zemo looked quite pleased with himself as he continued, his hand now making its way lower on your body. He stopped just above the apex of your thighs, hovering temptingly.

“Touch her,” Bucky commanded, his voice strained and...needy? You didn’t have much time to think too hard about it before Zemo was plunging two fingers right into your core, the wetness allowing the easiest of access. You cried out in surprise earning a low chuckle from Zemo. He seemed quite amused by how vocal you could be.

“Feel good?” He asked, mockingly. His fingers curled within you as they pumped in and out, your walls clenching around them desperately. You nodded weakly. 

Bucky groaned. “Touch her clit. Now.”

Zemo happily complied. The palm of his hand began pressing against your clit with every thrust, forcefully. At one point, he stilled his fingers in you, giving your clit his full, undivided attention. You yelped, twisting at the overwhelming sensation of the fingering and circling. 

Pleasure was running through you at an almost unbearing amount. It all escalated when your head lolled to the side and your eyes fell on Bucky. He was leaning against the wall across from the bed, hands fisted at his side, erection clearly pressing against the fabric of his pants. His gaze was hard, his pupils wide. He was watching so intensely yet with just the littlest hint of wonder. It hit you - Bucky was starting to actually enjoy this.

Zemo, on the other hand, wasn’t happy he lost your attention. A rough hand came up to your neck, forcing you to look back at him. He roughly pressed his forehead to yours, not letting your eyes wander even in the slightest. All you could do was stare back at his eyes while he fucked you relentlessly with his fingers. 

“Eyes on me,” Zemo gritted. 

“Watch yourself, Zemo,” Bucky snapped back.

Zemo’s grip on your neck got tighter and you were done for. That fucker really knew your weak points. The fingering was skilled but the grip on your throat... your body couldn’t take it all. You yelled out as your orgasm ran through you, your body jerking in response to it all. Zemo didn’t lighten anything up, though, forcing you to take it all until you were practically clawing at him, begging to stop. 

“That’s enough,” Bucky shouted. Zemo gave a dangerous chuckle before removing his fingers, licking each one as if they were a meal to be savored. But Bucky wasn’t close to being intimidated by the other man as he continued his commands, “I’d fuck her now if I were you. She’s getting antsy.”

“I think she’s always antsy,” Zemo sneered. “Maybe I want to make her wait a bit longer. Make her really cherish it.”

Your eyes were still forcefully locked on Zemo until Bucky stomped towards the bed and grabbed the man by the back of his neck, hoisting him away from you. His hand left your throat unwillingly. 

In a chilling tone you don’t think you ever heard from Bucky before, he whispered in Zemo’s ear, “I’m making the calls, Zemo, remember? You’re obeying me. If I say fuck her, then you fuck her.” He pushed the man back down, his head falling to the crook of your neck. When he regained his strength, Zemo pulled away to look at you. An unsettling smile played on his lips.

“As you wish,” he muttered and, in one swift, he entered you. Fully. No true warning. You gasped in utter shock at the boldness. You hadn’t expected it to take a moment or two for you to adjust to him. He was different from what you were used to with Bucky. Bucky had the length, but Zemo had the girth. He was stretching you in a whole new way and once you were past the shock, you soaked in all of it. 

Zemo just halted inside you, waiting for you to face him. You hadn’t even realized your eyes had closed until you were being forced to reopen them. Once you gave a little nod - your way of begging at this point - Zemo began moving in and out. His pace was strong, so determined.

He must’ve seemed like a man deprived because Bucky barked out, “Slower. Now you can let her wait for it. Let her feel it. She gets so needy sometimes she just has to be taught some patience.”

Reluctantly, Zemo complied, slowing his motions. You couldn’t even imagine the power-high Bucky must’ve been on at that moment. But you didn’t have much time to think about it as Zemo began dragging his full length out of you and reentering slowly, just as instructed. You moaned loudly as the pleasure built. 

“You like that? Huh? Sure sounds like it,” Zemo grunted in your ear. “You make the prettiest little noises.”

Your eyes fluttered shut once more as you weakly nodded. But your chance to get lost in the sensations was interrupted by Bucky. Suddenly, he was at the side of the bed, his metal hand coming around your neck and turning your head to face him now. 

“Use your words, doll,” he whispered, his eyes never leaving your worn-out expression. Your body jolted with each of Zemo’s thrusts. Bucky paid no mind to the other man, keeping his focus on you and continuing, “Tell him how you’re feeling. It feels good, doesn’t it? Do you like having another man fuck you while I watch? I gotta admit, when you first brought it up I was hesitant but you’re right. There is something about knowing what you need. What makes your little pussy all fucking wet. He may be on top of you but I’m the one controlling your pleasure. You scream for me.”

“Yes, Bucky, yes” was all you could chant as everything began boiling up inside you. 

Here you were screaming one man’s name while the other pounded you. There was the hand on your throat - the metal hand. Zemo taking his sweet time delivering his thrusts. The little pressure on your clit every time he’d push in you. Both of the men were only paying attention to you… It was so much at once yet exactly what you needed. Within seconds of Bucky finishing his little monologue, you were cumming hard around Zemo’s cock. It must’ve triggered something in Zemo as well because he wasn’t that far behind. 

“Faster,” Bucky suddenly demanded. “Until she can’t take it anymore.” 

Zemo sure wasn't hesitating on this one. You felt him fill you fully while his thrusts didn’t falter. He was making sure you two were fucked good. You clawed at Bucky’s arm, wanting something to hold onto as you rode out the orgasm. He kept his grip on your throat tight and careful, watching you with those overwhelming eyes as you came on another man’s cock. 

After a couple more weak thrusts, Zemo gave a final strong one before pulling out of you completely, making you whimper. Zemo gave you a soft smile before placing a kiss on your forehead. Once calmed down, he turned his serious self once again and began reclaiming his clothing items. You couldn’t believe how he could just turn it all on and off with a flip of a switch as if you weren’t lying on the bed fucked out mostly because of him. But that was what you had felt from him. It was all just about finding pleasure. And you both were successful.

Bucky didn’t pay any attention to the other man’s actions. He was still locked on you. His hand had left your throat now and was now caressing your cheek. You giggled at the softness, such a stark contrast to just moments before. 

Fully dressed now, Zemo cleared his throat, pulling you and Bucky’s attention away from one another. You glanced over at the man. He nodded to you both. “Thank you for the...invitation,” Zemo said. “Better than I could’ve ever imagined.” With that, he promptly exited as powerful and bold as he had entered. 

You were alone with Bucky now, unsure of what to actually say. 

“Did you enjoy yourself, doll?” Bucky eventually broke the silence. “Better than you could’ve ever imagined?”

You playfully rolled your eyes. His little tinge of jealousy was coming back despite being thoroughly turned on. Which reminded you… 

“I did enjoy myself,” you confirmed. “But I think I could have just a little bit more fun.” Regaining your strength, you shifted to a kneeling position on the bed. Your hand began creeping its way up Bucky’s jean-covered thigh to where his erection was still being strained against the material.

Bucky let out a low chuckle as your hand pressed over his covered cock. “You just don’t know when to quit, huh? My insatiable little girl.”

You blushed. “I just want to make sure you enjoyed yourself.”

“Oh, sweetheart, you have no idea.”

[phantaloon-books]

Things about Tower of Nero that I want to highlight to remember them forever:

Lu being an absolute badass woman, I just love her too much

Piper McClean being canon wlw, she was actually kissing another girl, we really fell in love in october

Chaos being canonically female (just chaos being mentioned as a deity rather than what's below tartarus)

nobody DIED, like no one on the good side at least?? yes plenty of beings have died throughout TOA, but nobody died in TON?? so many died in TLO and BOO, I expected to mourn someone and I didn't have too??! it made me so happy

solangelo. that's it. solangelo makes me happy.

will being incredibly supportive of nico, and instead of stopping him, going with him on dangerous adventures because he doesn't want to leave him alone. also them treating Nico's PTSD for what it is

WILL SOLACE CANONICALLY GLOWS IN THE DARK. HE'S A GLOWSTICK BABY.

also will just appearing at the gates of the throne room, glowing in rage because someone touched his boyfriend (and tried to kill his dad), and him just marching through everyone (everyone else letting him), just to pick up his hurt precious boyfriend and take care of him.

meg McCaffrey got her happy ending. she's baby, she deserves her family and her happy ending. also Lu being the mother and the 12 children being siblings?? that's one hell of a way to tell nero to fuck off and right his mistakes. we love meg.

dionysus being the best olympian after apollo. the duo content we needed, and now will never get

nico mentioning bob and how he wants to go look for him, because he can still be in tartarus

rachel still being a Total badass and hitting people in the eye with her blue hairbrush thus being iconic

meg acting as lester's anchor and only reason why he didn't let go of the ledge, not falling into chaos, is top tier 'reasons why I cried reading', because if you think about it, Meg is the first ever friend apollo ever had, and them being best friends is everything to me

also apollo choosing to go looking as lester rather than apollo because lester feels like home is on top tier 'reasons why I cried reading' too

again, the only thing apollo did in the end (once he was god again) that could be described as 'godly' was be in several places at once, fly his chariot, and get meg her unicorn

but apollo shooting fucking fire out of his hands is crazy asf, it was so cool. he really got amazing godly powers this book.

rick being bold enough to showcase abusive parenting knowing that a huge porcentage of his readers are minors, helping many realize that they could be in abusive households, and giving them a tool to reach out for help

apollo defeating nero was so satisfactory, because you realize in the end, that nero wasn't really a monster, he was monstrous, but still very much human (if only with some godly power), and pretty useless once he couldn't hide behind props and weapons, his being wasn't powerful, he was just under layers of protection

the jackson/blofis scene was so warm and loving, they really are willing to put their family in danger, baby estelle in danger, to help 'percy's friends' even tho she knew percy didn't like apollo, but she still takes in everyone who needs help, and paul being a loving and accepting husband

sally working on her SECOND novel, she really is having her best life

none of the big heroes from other series having protagonism, besides nico and will, instead giving the other kids from camp halfblood their chance to show they're just as worthy as the "heroes of olympus"

(still I would have loved to see a scene with everyone else, like the heroes of olympus guys, fighting together one last time, just for nostalgia's sake - I legit hoped to see percy and annabeth arriving with chiron in triumvirate tower, but yeah)

the arrow of dodona may have been a dumb, cringey, and slightly ridiculous thing at first, and I personally rolled my eyes everytime it said anything, but it knew what would happen from the start, and without its sacrifice, apollo would have achieved nothing. we stan one arrow

nico wearing a white cowboy hat. idky but it makes my heart swell with joy. he a gay cowboy

y'all know I love Apollo's arch, and I just gotta point this out. his trials, his time as lester, started with him falling to earth, and ended with him getting up after purposely throwing himself off the earth, towards tartarus, almost falling to chaos. that's really clever writing.

the olympians watching over him, and some actually being concerned for him rather than his progress.

poseidon not really giving a fuck about the world or council meetings anymore because percy's not there anymore

athena being the only one apart from artemis who trusted apollo could do it makes me warm fsr

lester deciding that the best way to retell his adventures is by singing is hilarious to me, he really thinks it'll solve everything

Grover not telling percy and annabeth jason died seems so funny to me, he really said "nah it doesn't matter much, field trip, yes"

"hey man" my heart broke in twenty million pieces. like I don't know where I expected to see jason. but that wasn't it. and it hurt me as much as it hurt apollo man.

(also I kinda hoped we would see nico summon his spirit or smth, but I'm actually happy nico realized that jason went by his own choice, and he was in peace, so he decided not to summon him, because it was alright. that hurt too)

kinda love how lester passes out after literally every battle. it reminds you that even tho he's apollo, his body isn't. I'm sure we all would pass out too if we did a quarter of what lester did in the span of 4 days. his body isn't made to endure that, it doesn't even have a halfblood endurance, it's a weak mortal body

the trogs were fucking hilarious. their screeches and grrs, idk there's something ridiculous and so childish about them, it's so fun

really happy that apollo never had a /real/ love interest (reyna doesn't count), cause that wasn't what his story was about. instead he got to make so many friends, and have quality time with them and his children, it's amazing

apollo being thankful people were telling him he'd grown, and was more human, because he realized that was the best thing he could have learned from his time as a mortal

also him saying fuck you man to zeus and his speech, like "no asshole dad, I did learn, I'm not going to see this as punishment, it was a great time in which bad things happened but I enjoyed it." yes, we love apollo not letting zeus win

getting to see what everyone will do now. nico and will figuring out rachel's prophecy, probs saving bob. rachel living her best life away from her parents. leo doing what leo does, always helping those who have no one else. the hunters' open storyline about this fox, possibly hinting at content? piper settling down in a quiet life is what she deserves tbh, she's earned quiet life with a cute gf, wish her the best. Frank and hazel being the best praetors, and I bet they will continue to be so. And annabeth and percy, who chose their happiness over all, at last

kinda wish we got to see someone still really miss jason after apollo becomes god again tho lmao like apollo missed jason more than the others, nico and piper being the exception. I mean, leo is fine and dandy, hazel and frank are okay, percy and annabeth are done mourning... I just we got to see any of them really mourning, rather than reading they mourned. it would have made it feel more emotional

the last conversation and the last words in general. "the sun always comes back" and "we're friends now. call on me. I'll be there for you" that shit got me sobbing my heart out. rick really managed to do right by the books and end it like he should have, unlike BOO. he took what made TLO good and used a similar formula. it's very different from "and for once I didn't look back", but it still fills you with warmth and the feeling that even though it's over, it's okay.

I'm just really emotional, this is all I can think about, but you bet I'm gonna add more when I remember

[pars-ley]

The couples package

Pairing: Yoongi x female reader

Summary: Asking one of your friends to pretend to be your boyfriend on an all expenses paid work trip seems like a great idea...until you discover couples therapy is also part of the package.

Genre: Fake dating au / friends to lovers / angst / fluff 

Rating: 15 + (SFW)

Warnings: Explicit language / Therapy session / Making out

Word count: 2K

Notes: This is a request from my milestone drabble game (all my requests for it have been in the works for a million years, sorry it’s taken me so long!) for @unoriginal-username15432 I hope you enjoy this!

Beta Reader: @bluewhale52 thank you so much for your helpful suggestions.

"A free holiday?" Yoongi asks you, turning his head and raising a suspicious eyebrow. "What's the catch?"

You wince, hoping he'd just accept without question...you should have known better.

"Well, maybe it requires you to be my... partner."

"Huh? Your partner in what?"

You roll your eyes. "Life partner, Yoongi. My boyfriend, my other half, the love of my life you know."

His shoulders visibly tense. "I...I think that's weird, don't you?"

You pinch your nose, trying to ease the tension. "A little I guess, but Yoongi, I wouldn't ask if I wasn't desperate. The role that opens up for promotion is only ever filled by someone who's gone on this couple's retreat."

He turns to you, leaning back against his kitchen counter, arms crossed over his chest. "Are you telling me, you can only go to this resort if you're in a relationship?"

"Yes." 

"That seems really-"

"I know, its stupid, unfair, should be illegal, but that's how it works and I really, really, really need this promotion Yoongi, so please…" you clasp your hands together in front of you, begging. "I'll get on my knees if you want." you can't help the suggestive tone in your voice knowing it will make him blush. And there's nothing you love more than seeing him flustered.

"Fine. I'll come." he avoids your eyes as the crimson hue spreads across his cheeks.

"Thank you!" you throw your arms around his neck and lock him in an embrace. "You'll enjoy it, I promise and I'll make it up to you big time."

"Yea, yea." he says, arms winding loosely around your waist.

You savour the moment. It's not very often he's physically affectionate with you, much to your dismay.

"Ok, start packing. I'll pick you up tomorrow morning sharp." you order, "You're my bestest, best friend ever!" you call out the door. Once you’re outside, you can't help the excited flip your stomach does. Not just at the prospect of being in line for this promotion but also the idea of playing house with Yoongi, of pretending to be everything you actually want, of an intimate glimpse at a life with him at your side. That's better than nothing.

As you step off the boat and onto the pale sand of the island, you bask in the warmth of the air, taking a deep breath and holding your face up to the sun.

A nudge in your back snaps you out of it. "You coming?" Yoongi’s voice by your ear sends a shiver down your spine.

You wind your arm through his, receiving an awkward sideways glance in response but you choose to ignore it.

Trudging through the sand, a guide leads you to the entrance of the resort. At the reception desk, a bell boy takes your bags and leads you up to your room.

Yoongi's jaw drops as you both walk in - a huge queen size bed, covered in delicate, red rose petals, is next to double doors that open up to the balcony, framed by thin, scarlet veil curtains billowing softly into the room. You tip the bellboy and he leaves with a smile.

"Wow, look at the size of this shower." Yoongi calls out to you. 

Turning; you see a large bathroom with a roll top bath and a shower big enough to hold a conference in.

"I think it's designed that way for more than one person at a time." you fight the giggle, picturing the shocked look on his face as you start to unpack your suitcase.

Clearing his throat behind you, he says, "We have a problem."

"What's that?" you ask, shoving your underwear roughly in a drawer.

"There's only one bed." 

"Oh no, disaster!" you mock him and laugh. "So what, are you telling me you can't share a huge bed like this with me for four days? There would be almost a whole continent between us in there."

He scrubs the back of his neck. "I guess so."

You had to admit, the idea of sharing a bed with him had excitement blooming heavily in your heart...among other places.

Yoongi heads outside to take a look at the view from the balcony, but a knock on the door distracts you from following.

Opening it, you see your boss' smiling face staring back at you. "Ah welcome, welcome!" she says pulling you in for a rapid, impersonal hug. "I'm so glad you're here. Listen, first thing on the agenda is couples counselling, so settle in briefly and meet us in conference room number 4, ok?"

She starts to head off but you pull her back by the arm. "Er, I'm sorry, couples counselling? No one mentioned this."

She gives you a sympathetic smile. "That's right, I forgot, it's your first time here! I'm so sorry. It's just part of the package here, you have a session once everyday."

You blink at her, picturing Yoongi's reaction to this added piece of news.

"Ok? I'll see you down there. Can't wait to meet him by the way." she grins, her eyes searching the room behind you before she heads off and leaves you staring at an empty corridor.

You swallow down your fear and close the door behind you, knowing this will be the first argument you have here but certainly not the last.

"Oh, Yoongi my dearest…"

You prop your head up on your hand trying to look interested as you sit in the room full of strangers, listening to their mundane grievances with their partners. The chairs are all set out in a circle so wherever you look, you meet eyes with someone.

You glance over at Yoongi, who is slouching in his chair with arms folded and tension rolling off him in waves. You are  dreading your turn. He is definitely not an actor, he gets flushed when he's lying and he stutters. How on earth will this ever be convincing?

"Y/n, Yoongi, I'm sensing some friction between the two of you. Anything you want to discuss?"

You freeze, suddenly rigid in your chair as the counsellor directs his attention to you. 

"No." Yoongi's deep voice sounds beside you, low and unamused.

"I'm sensing some hostility about being here? Therapy can help the two of you bond and become closer." he clasps his hands together in dramatic fashion, making you inwardly roll your eyes.

"We're fine. Bonded and close as we can be." he mumbles.

"Y/n, do you agree with that?" The therapist turns to you, all eyes now on your face.

"We are very close, yes." you swallow, feeling like you're under interrogation.

"And are you happy with your relationship the way it is?"

No. The room feels hot, too hot, as you're aware it's not lying that's bothering you;  it's revealing the truth that's making your gut clench. You see Yoongi look your way from the corner of your eye, your silence must be confusing him.

"Y/n? You're in a safe place, you can speak openly here." 

You barely hear the counsellor’s words over the wild thrum of your heart, and suddenly a word leaves your mouth before you can stop it.

"No."

The counsellor leaps forward, on the edge of his chair, practically hovering in mid air, eager to get more from you.

"Honesty is the path to mindfulness." he says. "What are you not happy about, y/n?" 

"I want us to be closer." you say quietly. "I feel like he holds himself back from me."

The counsellor nods dramatically and looks straight at Yoongi for a response.

"How? I'm here with you aren't I, even though I didn't want to come."

Yoongi scoffs, turning in his seat to give you his undivided attention.

"What I'm hearing, Yoongi, is that maybe what you're offering isn't enough for y/n?" the counsellor says, leaning forward and  giving him a pitying look.

You see Yoongi's neck flush, knowing he's about to lose it as the vein bulges prominently in his neck.

"And what I'm saying, counsellor, is that I don't see how it's any of your business what I offer her." He says with gritted teeth, his low growl holds a powerful bite in his words.

The therapist holds his hands up in surrender. "You're right, it's not, but you're here in my session and it seems like it's y/n who really wants to know. And it's definitely her business." He leans forward in his chair. "So tell her, what it is you're offering her." 

"I'd offer her everything, anything I could. If she pulled her head out of her arse long enough she might realize that."

Your head snaps over to him, wondering if his acting skills have drastically improved or if…no, he must be acting.

"Have you told her this Yoongi, have you bared your soul for her?"

He scoffs again. "What difference would that make? She should know how I feel if she knows me that well."

You grind your teeth, annoyance running rampant through you. "I'm not a fucking mind reader, Yoongi. Am I supposed to guess what's going on in that big, dumb brain of yours?"

"For goodness sake, I want you to be my wife and have my kids one day! There. Are you happy? Clear enough for you?"

He slumps back aggressively in his chair, arms folded, face emblazoned with rage and embarrassment. All you can do is stare at him. You have no words to say as you're not entirely sure what to make of this heated exchange.

"Perfect. Guys, you've done really well this session. Unfortunately, time is up, but I'm going to enjoy working with you two. We've got lots to uncover, I can sense it." The man is almost vibrating with excitement and it unnerves you. 

Yoongi leaves first, making a swift exit with you hot on his tail, not wanting to be confronted by anyone.

As soon as the door to your room closes,  you find your voice again. "What the fuck was that?" 

There is no response as he drags his suitcase from under the bed and starts wildly shoving clothes into it.

"Yoongi, what are you doing?" 

"What does it look like? I'm leaving." He mumbles, eyes down and focused, body turned away from you.

"You can't leave after that!" You close some distance between you, fury boiling inside and bubbling over into the words spilling from your lips. "What about us!?"

He laughs a sad, exasperated laugh. "What about us? 'Us' will never be the same. I can't stick around to be pitied and pushed aside. I can't have you around me all the damn time not be able to hold you, I can't do it anymore, y/n. So please, don't ask me to." 

You see his cheeks turn a bright shade of fuchsia, his hands clasp his clothing so hard his knuckles go white as he still refuses to look your way. 

Your feet feel like they're rooted to the spot for a moment before you feel the ground come out from under you. A cloud captures you and floats you around the room, light and carefree. The words you think you'd never hear have finally been said and you cannot describe the pure elation and euphoria you feel.

You reach out to his shoulder, hoping to ground yourself as well as to offer comfort.

He sighs under your touch. "Please, don't."

His hands still and his shoulders slump. You grab him and turn him to you, lifting his chin till his gaze begrudgingly falls on you. Your heart is pounding hard in your chest from the promise in his words but also from the fear of being mistaken and rejected.

"I can't take it anymore, I need you. Right here. Right now." you whisper, voice husky and thick of want.

His eyes widen as he curiously examines your face.

"Please, Yoongi." you plead, hand drifting down to his, your fingers hesitantly entwining together with his. "I've waited so long for you."

His mouth crashes against yours in an instant and it takes your breath away. His sweet lips moving rapidly with yours, the taste of him enough to have your entire body throbbing violently with need. 

His hands find you and pull you closer, your body now pressed tightly against him. The heat rising from him drives you crazy and as his scent swirls your senses, it makes it impossible to think of anything but him.

"God, you make me crazy, woman." He whispers against your mouth.

You can't help but smile as your hands find anchor in his hair. "Yea, but you love me for it."

He kisses you deep, softly massaging his lips against yours, caressing them in the most gentle way. You feel like your worries and problems have dissipated, leaving you light and full of adoration.

"No arguments there." He replies.

[diaco1968]

Hello <3

I have an emergency request, I just came out and told my family that I was raped when I was six, and so I'm having to go into a police station and explain in detail of what happened to me. And it's just playing on the front of my mind of what happened. I was wondering if you could write about the MHA boys comforting their S/O when they get flashbacks about it? I totally get it if its a touchy topic, I just really like your work and all, and though it might be nice to read it.

~BorkBork

Hello darling, I'm sorry you had to go through that and I hope you leave these days behind you and never have to deal with them again. It IS a touchy subject and you are very brave to have scratched the surface to start the healing. Be strong <3

Note: I did the boys I feel more comfortable doing since it is an emergency request and you didn't specify who, I hope you like these 5 and enjoy reading >_< @borkbork2024

Bakugou

He knew that distant wide eyed look on your face; the way you stared into the distance and clutched whatever was in your hands at the time.

And he hated it. He wanted nothing more to take that look and what was causing it away. But he couldn't do it. At least not without you.

Your knuckles turned white around the mug you were holding and that was his cue. He did his best to sound reassuring and warm. His hands moved towards yours, stopping inches away, hovering patiently.

"(Y/n)... look at me."

Your eyes snapped onto him, still wide and filled with discomfort; hurt; fear. He wished he could take it away.

"I'm going to hold your hands, is that okay?"

It took you a moment before you finally nodded in agreement and he didn't miss a beat, his hands taking the mug away from you and engulfing both your hands into the heat of his much larger hands, stretching your shaky fingers gently and rubbing them to warm them up, looking you straight in the eyes. Seriously but kindly. You could've sworn you could see your hurt reflected into his eyes too. Despite that his voice was soothing as he rubbed tiny slow circles on the back of your hands, making sure you were listening to him as he tried to reassure you.

"It"s over now. You're safe and I'm here with you. I will never let anyone hurt you, ever again. Okay baby?"

Midoriya

He chuckled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck, but winced from the pain radiating in his arm, standing corrected that he still felt his arm after the injury.

He got distracted from your worried expression by trying to asses his injuries only momentarily and only to try to relieve you of your worries without having lied to you. And that one moment was enough for your worry to turn into anxiety and stress and that sent you spiraling down a pit of dark flashbacks. Shaky hands turning into tight fists by your sides, jaws locking shut as you closed your eyes tightly, every muscle in your demand clenching subconsciously.

He finally looked up in what felt like hours but was actually seconds and there you were standing, in your typical defense mechanism, and he hadn't felt this dumb in a while as he rushed to you.

"Oh shit, sweetie, are you alright? I'm so stupid, I'm sorry, come here."

He didn't give you time to protest or react as he wrapped his arms around you in what was surprisingly a comfortable hug despite his injured arm and your tight muscles. His hands moved down your arms, squeezing the tense muscles gently to relax them and he grabbed your hands, unclenching them slowly and gently as he smoothed your fingers open, rubbing the palm of your hands where your nails had dug deep in your palms.

"There is nothing to worry about, sweetheart. You know I'll always come back to you. And I will always protect you. Not that you need my protection, you're the strongest person I know, I was just-"

"Midoriya?"

You were talking so that was a good sign and he was glad you interrupted his babbling. Even better was that you now hugged him back and buried your face in his chest

"Yes, sweetie?"

"Be quiet..."

"Okay, sweetie."

He smiled as he hugged you tighter kissing the top of your head.

Shoto

Shoto was exceptionally busy today. He had been running errands all day and when he finally did come home he had loads of paper work on his hands. So you waited patiently all throughout the evening. But no matter how long you waited he didn't finish. You needed him right now though,

He had watched you in silence as you grabbed a chair from the opposite side of his desk and pulled it all the way over to take a seat next to him behind the desk. He had placed his hand on your knee as he leaned in to look at you.

"Is everything alright, little lady?"

He had asked and you had nod your head deciding you couldn't trust your voice enough to explain so you just told him you missed him.

He didn't look like he bought it but you weren't someone to be prodded for a conversation you didn't want to have, so he gave you time as he stroked your knee before turning and going back to work. You brought your knees up to your chest and hugged them once he wasn't looking anymore. At first it was fine being in the room with him. His presence seemed to have driven away your thoughts. But now after a few minutes the thoughts came rushing back.

Fat tears started rolling down your cheeks and heavily dropping on your pants. You couldn't stop the tears and there was no way you could leave the room without giving him a scare, so you just sat there, chest heaving in silent sobs.

But Shoto was already worried, and he turned around to ask you again what had happened. A few seconds of silence as he stared at your face, his rapidly widening eyes chasing a tear down your cheek before he realised and he put everything away. Getting out of his chair he knelt in front of yours on the ground, his hand reaching out, stroking your cheek as he caught a tear on his fingers and wiped it off, trying to catch your eyes, his other hand holding yours on your lap. He wasn't much for words, but for you he'd try.

"Everything is fine, love. You can let it out. I'm here for you. We'll get through this together, alright? I love you."

Dabi

"I said I don't fucking care, get it through your thick skull."

Well he should have cared. You were furious. You didn't even remember how the fight started and what it was about. But that nonchalant 'I don't care about anything' persona he tried to put up was so out of date already. In a fit of blind rage you raised your hand and slapped him across the face. And boy did he not like that. A sound between a shocked gasp and an enraged growl came from him, terrifying you, before he was in your face, roughly grabbing your hands and restraining any further movement you could've made. Your chest tightened as anxiety clawed it's way up your gut.

"What the fuck did you just do?!"

You were trying to pull your arms free but was frozen on the spot by the way he yelled at you. Your whole body went numb, cold chills running up and down your spine as you stared up at him with wide eyes that glossed over immediately.

He knew what was wrong. He knew the way you froze and went numb. It wasn't like your usual fiery self. And he knew that he triggered it. He had never winced harder in his life as he let go of your hands and pulled you into his arms. He pressed you to his chest and rubbed his hands up and down your back to calm you down, internally cursing his recklessness as he buried his nose in your hair.

"...fuck I'm sorry... it's okay, doll. You're okay. No one is hurting you. No one will ever dare hurt you. I'll make sure of that."

Hawks

"Are you okay? What happened?"

The second he heard the glass shattering, he was in the kitchen with you but he wished he had never left to begin with. You were in the kitchen, right there in the middle. There were glass shards and food splatters all around you as you just stood there with your back to the door.

"Dove?"

No reply. As he started to carefully make his way towards you, he saw your arms raise slowly and wrap around yourself and you started heaving loudly. Breathing heavily as if you just ran a marathon, little whimpers and dry sobs spilling out of your lips and soon turning into tiny but persistent hiccups. And he knew all about this. This defense mechanism your mind subconsciously hid behind.

"(Y/n)!"

He closed the distance between you, placing his hands on your arms, rubbing them up and down as he tried to catch your eyes, calling your name over and over until you finally looked at him. He pulled you closer, his wings extending as they wrapped around the two of you, shutting off the rest of the world.

Yours and his so called wings' safety circle.

It was a thing he came up with to calm you down and make you feel better and it did work. In his arms and in between his wings, which created a warm little space for you where even the noise from the rest of the world was muffled and cut out, you felt safe. Your breathing slowly went back to normal as you watched the feathers rustle slowly, with your cheek on his chest, feeling his calming heartbeat and syncing with it.

"I've got you, dove. No one can touch you here. It's just you and me and I've got you, (y/n)."

[alfredolover119]

I looooove your zukka rec lists! I recently became Avatar-obsessed, never got a chance to watch it as a kid and only just got through it all! I was wondering if you'd consider doing a specifically angst rec list? I love fluffy zukka everything, but sometimes you just gotta have your heart ripped out of your chest and put back in after being thoroughly blended.

thank you! i relate heavily to “recently became Avatar-obsessed” haha. as for the angst list, i sure can try! warning: all of these have happy endings because im a crybaby who can’t read unhappy endings. also, p much all of the fics in the completed section were featured on my other lists but this is specifically the ANGSTY ones >:^)

angsty zukka wips

first, most obviously, feels like we only go backwards by @oldpotatoe

-currently at 102k with 19/27 chapters posted; rated teen

-the amnesia fic. the amnesia fic. the amnesia fic. you know. i haven’t actually read it yet because, as previously mentioned, i’m a crybaby and am waiting for it to finish up but, from my understanding, this fic will murder you in a dark alleyway with no remorse. if u like zukka angst, you’ve probably already read this, but just in case!

An injury leaves Sokka with amnesia. His last memory is of the failed invasion, of leaving his father behind in enemy territory on the Day of Black Sun. Of hopelessness. Rage. // But then he wakes up, and the war is over. Suddenly, he must come to terms with the fact that years have passed, and that he's somehow the Southern Water Tribe Ambassador to the Fire Nation. He is also supposedly friends with banished-Prince-turned-Fire-Lord Zuko, of all people. Close friends.

Yeah, nah.

and i’ll do anything you say (if you say it with your hands) by @goldrushzukka

-currently 38k with 6/8 chapters posted; rated mature

-holy shit. holy SHIT. modern au based on the “my cat likes my fuckbuddy and i am falling in love” trope(?). maybe it’s just because of how the last chapter ended, but oh my god. this one made me cry. made me want to commit violence. when it’s not angsty as hell, it’s pretty funny, but holy shit. ao3 user nebulastucky please.

It’s supposed to be a one night stand. Pick up some guy at a bar, barely remember his name and never learn anything real about him, send him packing in the morning with a thanks for the ride and a cup of coffee to-go. That’s how it’s supposed to go. // But then it’s the best sex Sokka has ever had, and he thinks he’ll hate himself if he never gets to have it again.

Violet Blossoms and Celestial Objects by @hollypunkers

-currently 15k with 2/? posted. rated teen.

-this is the sequel to blue (an angsty, zukka rewrite of book 2-- go read it if u havent!)! !! this is a book 3 rewrite. only two chapters in and mrs hollypunkers is really abusing the miscommunication tag, as zukka writers seem to enjoy doing. im excited to see how the world and story develops with the changes to the story! you should be too!! its very good! obviously spoilers for blue lmao

Having sided with the Avatar in Ba Sing Se, Zuko not only must navigate his new relationship with Sokka but returning to the Fire Nation as a banished enemy. His own journey of self discovery and personal growth must now coexist alongside the personal struggles of every other member of the Gaang as together they blaze a treacherous path toward an unsure victory against Zuko's own father and nation.

breakable heaven by @fruitysokka

-currently 71k with 9/11 chapters posted. rated teen

-swt ambassador zuko! soon to be chief sokka! fake dating ur best friend to get out of an arranged marriage! what could go wrong!!! i also haven’t read this one ((see: i’m a crybaby who is being hurt by too many zukka wips already)), but it has been hanging out in my marked for later for months. from what i understand, this fic has: angst.

With his twenty-first birthday looming just around the corner, the Southern Water Tribe Elders have decided that Sokka, next in line to be Chief, needs to get married. Sokka does not want that, but he does need to get them off his back until he can figure his way out of it. What better way to do that than to pretend to date his best friend (and newly minted Ambassador to the Southern Water Tribe) Zuko? // Seriously, this is a foolproof plan. Maybe one of Sokka's best. Absolutely nothing can go wrong.

angsty zukka fics (completed!)

(i’ll put these in wc order)

lighthouse beam by @incorrectzukka

-7k, rated g

-a modern college au!! zuko’s inner-monologue is very angsty in this fic. typical zuko. also per usual, theyre both fucking dorks. they sort themselves out in the end, but not before The Angst. zuko is semi-deaf in this fic and also he has a bit of internalized homophobia.

Sokka’s breathtakingly beautiful and he’s smart and makes other people laugh. Zuko has a half-burnt face and a deaf ear. It’s not rocket science. // Or, Zuko falls in love with the boy in his Philosophy class.

This Isn’t My Idea of Fun by @khaleeseas

-9k, explicit

-moon spirit/nwt prince!sokka, no war to be found here! admittedly this isnt THAT angsty but like. the angst IS present. zuko is still the prince. a lovely childhood friends (though they hated each other for a minute haha) to lovers story. 

If you asked Zuko, he and Azula saw far too much of Chief Hakoda of the Northern Water Tribe’s children growing up. It wasn’t until they were older, and Azula pointed out that - duh - their families were trying to set them all up, that he realized why. // He was told by his mother to be polite. These people were their friends and allies, and though their nations were as different as they came, harmony between nations was the most important thing. // It wasn’t his fault the Chief’s children were so annoying.

put your lips close to mine (as long as they don’t touch) by @celestialceci

-9k, teen

-modern au! zuko and sokka are college roommates. zuko goes to spend the summer with sokka. again,, not really that angsty but-- its there!! the detail and feeling of Home in this story make me happy. zuko is insecure as hell here too. if ur into that. 

Zuko hates his home. He likes college alright, but he likes Sokka even better, his assigned roommate turned best friend. Spending the summer with Sokka will be fun, a welcome change of pace he desperately wants. It probably won't awaken anything in him... right?

the thing about dancing by anodymalion

-9k, teen

-yes. this one right here officer. it makes my heart ache. also trans sokka! which is cool. but the zuko angst in this one. hurts me. not so much relationship angst as it is zuko learning he deserves happiness angst. i’m sure u know The Type.

The first time a attendant spills Zuko’s tea and doesn’t immediately fall to her knees, begging the Fire Lord’s forgiveness, it is not anger but a resounding warmth that fills his chest.

i could (never) give you peace by @zukkababey

-10k, mature

-OUCH. OUCH OUCH OUCH. boys please learn to communicate im begging u. also zuko.. zuko, dude. as the tags of the fic say, hes “really going through it” in this one. YOUCH. post-canon.

Zuko almost said it. He almost said the words I think I’m in love with you, but he choked them back down at the last second. // Zuko would never be able to be what Sokka wanted. They might have needed each other during the summer, when two boys with too much weight on their shoulders found comfort in each other in the only way they knew how. // But now Zuko was Fire Lord, and Sokka was leaving.

this love burns so yellow (becoming orange and in its time, exploding) by @meliebee 

-18k, teen, major character death 

-i lied. THIS is the one, officer. found family.. good mai and zuko and toph friendships.. . ozai escapes prison and tries to overthrow zuko. OBVIOUSLY angst ensues. poor boy. he Does heal in this but it gets worse before it gets better. angst angst angst angst.

Ten months after Zuko is crowned at seventeen, he faces his first coup.

Anything for You by beersforqueers

-23k, explicit

-istg. this is probably one of my favorite zukka fics. its PAINFUL. modern au where theyre broken up but sokka hasnt told his family yet so zuko goes home with him for kataang wedding. a bit smutty, but the plot oh my god ohgm y fuvk. made me cry the first time i read it. (see: crybaby!me) insert that one picture of the horse with the caption PAIN. 

In which Sokka and Zuko have broken up but Sokka hasn't told his family yet. So when Katara and Aang's wedding weekend rolls around and he doesn't want to break Gran-Gran's heart, he asks Zuko to pretend to be his boyfriend for one last weekend. // Things don't go as planned.

Moving Mountains by @thefangirlingdead

-64k, mature

-so. when i read this the first time it was in one sitting. soulmate au set within canon era / the comics, to an extent. soulmates can hear each others thoughts. i will happily say this is slowburn, jesus christ. champagne without the cham. 

Soulmates are chosen by the spirits and can hear each other’s thoughts. Sokka thinks it’s cheesy and dumb. Zuko thinks it’s poetic justice that he doesn’t have one because he doesn’t deserve it. Cruel irony is finding out that the prince of the Fire Nation (and the person currently hunting you) is your soulmate.

In the Soft Light by @voidcenturyscholar and @romancedawning

-83k, teen, graphic depictions of violence

-moon spirit!sokka living in the northern water tribe. zuko is sent to the northern water tribe as a cultural liaison. iroh is the fire lord but while he is away taking care of lu ten after his injury ozai steps up. i cannot express how many emotions this fic made me feel. background yuetara. i would almost say found family?? but. anyway. plenty of angst to spare here with a healthy dose of enemies to friends to lovers.

As the newly appointed cultural liaison to Northern Water Tribe, Zuko is the first Fire Nation Citizen to step foot inside the city's walls in nearly a century. He's determined to prove himself—to the Fire Lord and to his father—even if the Water Tribe's spirit-touched prince seems to want nothing to do with him.

That Midnight Sky by @zukkababey

-103k, teen

-now now now. tms... modern college au where sokka agrees to tutor zuko in physics because zuko has to maintain straight a’s and physics is just not doing it for him. so. thats cool but THEN azula moves in, randomly, with zuko. to hide the fact that sokka is tutoring zuko, they fake date! what could go wrong!! the mutual pining in here combined with the angst... wonderful, tasty. everyone read it rn. also SLOWBURN 

In Zuko’s strict family, needing a tutor is just about the worst thing you could do. Failing a class, however, is even worse. The only rational solution? Take up Aang on his offer to find him a physics tutor and have Sokka—beautiful, smart, handsome Sokka—tutor him in secret. // When Azula’s arrival threatens to reveal Zuko’s secret, it’s up to Sokka to convince her this definitely isn’t what it looks like. See, he’s actually… Zuko’s… boyfriend? // Hmm. There’s no way this could get complicated, right?