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reiderwriter · 1 year ago

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Let Me Love You, Baby

Chapter 7 of That's What You Get Prev Chap // Next Chap

Warnings: Oral (M and F receiving), nipple play, handcuffing, BDSM themes, dom! Spencer, sub! Reader, breeding kink, creampie, handcuffing, a variety of PinV sex positions, multiple orgasms, squirting mention, mentions of different types of orgasms involving penetrative sex and anal sex. 18+ MINORS DNI Summary: Your memories of your wedding night come back. Not all of them, just the interesting ones.

A/N: If you're enjoying this series please PLEASE let me know in the comments! I've really been loving the theories about who the other witness is and I've changed my mind like three times on who it is eventually going to be BUT I've made up my mind now and I think it's going to be a great reveal lmao. This chapter has been on my mind since I started the series and I'm so happy you can all finally read it, but it is also A Lot of sex because every time I had a thought, I wrote it down and then didn't self-edit lmao. You can find my masterlist here, the series masterlist in the link above, and if you enjoy my smut, think about checking out my kinktober masterlist or my AO3 account for daily spicy content next month! <3

You stumbled, drunk, into the room, not sure in the haze if it was yours or his. The card had passed between you in many hushed giggles through the hall as you eagerly pulled each other forward. Falling onto the bed, you let out a contented sigh as Spencer fell next to you, face first into the sheets with a small laugh.

“I can’t believe we did that!” You grinned, meeting his eyes as he turned his head towards you. “We’re married!”

“We are.” He smiles, and you can’t help but let your eyes fall to his lips, swollen and pink from your earlier enjoyment of one another. You start to laugh, not fully understanding why, but thinking it probably had a lot to do with the alcohol you’d consumed. Bringing a hand up to his face, you let a finger run over the corner of his mouth, wiping away a tiny splash of red you’d deposited earlier.

“Your lips are swollen.”

“Whose fault is that?” He leans in and catches your lips again in his and you squeal at the sudden contact, excited to feel him against you again. He’s soft and gentle at first, but as you gasp underneath him your breaths get shorter, stopping just shy of moans as you let your hands trail up and down his body. But the edge of the bed is uncomfortable, so you push him off, following his lips still as he pushes himself further up, straddling his waist as you let yourself melt into him.

“How did this happen again?” You ask, memory already feeling a little fuzzy, as you think back on the stressful few weeks you’ve had and how much better this feels. How nice it is to have someone underneath you, pressed against you, holding you.

“Is that important right now?” He asks, lips seeking yours again as you turn your head just as he tries to connect, giggling at his pout.

“You know, I always thought getting married would be this whole huge thing. Hundreds of guests, 18 months of stress while planning, you never really know on the day if the man you’re attempting to lock down is actually going to be on the other end of that aisle or if he’s bolted somewhere.” His lips are carving a path down your throat as you talk, memorizing the peaks and falls of every inch of your skin, committing you to memory like a prayer.

“A man would have to be absolutely stupid to leave you at the alter, Y/N.” He says those words that prick your heart so easily, worming his way in, without even breaking his lips away from their spot on your collarbone.

“Then if he didn’t leave, he’d be too drunk to perform on the wedding night, and so the entire day would end up just being a bust anyway.” He smiles into his final kiss, letting it linger against your skin as he pulls away and looks into your eyes.

“How drunk are you, Spencer?” Your voice falls to a hush as you shift your weight in his lap, opening your legs just a smidge wider, shifting forward so more of you is falling over his clothed member, pressing up against him as close as possible.

“You’re talking too much,” he growled out, and, grabbing you by the neck, pulled you into another heated kiss. This one isn’t giggles and soft sighs, it’s a clash of teeth and tongue and desperation, and you suddenly have the answer to your question as you feel him stiffen beneath you. Grinding down into him, you let him take control of your actions, letting him tell you when you can come up for air.

When he finally pulls away from you, you stay connected through a line of saliva stretching from your lolling tongue to his mouth. He breaks it with his thumb, forcing the digit into your mouth as you suck your shared mess from him.

“Definitely not too drunk.”

You couldn’t help yourself then, as you pulled his thumb from your mouth and shifted your body down the bed until your face was parallel to his crotch, beginning to palm him in his trousers.

“If we’re married,” you say, popping the button on his pants open. “We should probably get to know each other's… preferences early on. Stop any future arguments from occurring, right?” You looked up at him through hooded eyes, plastering the most sinful smile you could muster on your face. He stayed quiet, but you felt him twitch underneath your hand, and decided that was response enough.

“You can bite me and scratch me if you want. I like it. Pull my hair, spank me, choke me until I’m begging to cum. I like all of it. You’re in control now, Spencer. You can do whatever you want with me, so long as it ends with your cum down my throat or stuffed inside me.” Finishing your speech, confidence fueled by alcohol and the buzz of your wedding vows, you slip his cock from its cloth prison and take it directly into your mouth.

It’s thicker than you expected, and you just sit with the tip of it in your mouth for a second, trying to find a comfortable position. When you finally do, you push slowly down on it, letting your tongue tease and trace a path down. You don’t make it to the base before you’re pulling off, reaching what you expect to be your max about halfway down. You set a rhythm for yourself, hands pumping the rest of him as you coax the cum from him.

He gives you three minutes of fun before he decides that you need a little help reaching your full potential. Fisting a hand into your hair, and cradling the back of your neck in his other, he stills your motions before pushing you further down his cock, bypassing your gag reflex as your throat battles against the position he’s put you in, your nose tickled against his soft curls.

“Okay, let’s talk preferences. I’d prefer it if you ask permission before you touch something, whether that be me or yourself. I’d prefer if you used a safe word if this all gets a bit much for you. And I’d prefer you to relax that little throat of yours so I can fuck a load of my seed down it baby, okay?” He pulls you up by the hair and you nod, rasping out a yes as you gasp for air.

“Safeword is profile, tap twice if you need air.” And with that, he’s fucking your face again, pushing and pulling you by your hair as your mouth leaks spit. This was going to be a moment you’d never forget, the taste of his precum at the back of your throat, burning its way down.

Shrugging off his pants completely, he keeps at his movements, your head still working over him like you’re simply a fleshlight for his personal use. He grunts and twitches into you, signaling his impending release, and you try to ready yourself for the sting of the liquid hitting the back of your throat. He cums hot and fast, and you swallow around him, but there’s so much, it spills out of your mouth quickly, dripping down your chin and neck.

“Good girl. You listen to instructions well.” He pulls you up to his lap again as he begins undressing you, not bothering to wipe his cum from your mouth.

In a matter of seconds, he has you completely bare for him. Pulling your legs further up, he lets your torso fall back into the bed before shimmying himself down, coming face-to-face with your core.

“You remember the rules?” He asks, and you nod, answering his question.

“No touching, safe word is profile. Is that it?”

“One more thing. You’re not allowed to cum until I say so, okay?” You let out a moan of discontent then, but he shuts you up with a light slap to your face, coming up to press a kiss to your lips before traveling south again.

“Relax for me, baby,” he says as he spreads your legs and stretches out his tongue to finally come in contact with your needy core. His tongue is skilled, and you almost immediately break one of his rules as you arch off the bed, trying your best not to suffocate him between your thighs as you search for ways to heighten this pleasure.

He wastes no time being gentle, just fully eating you out like it was his job to make you cum on his face. His tongue stretched from your clit to your hole, flattening out and writhing in equal amounts as your pleasure built to a frenzy. Your hands gripped into the sheets and you clung to the single thought that maybe a punishment from your new husband wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.

Your hands drift to his hair, gripping tightly as you begin bucking into his mouth, completely lost in your base desires. He quickly grips your hands and pins them to the bed again though, pulling away just before you even think about climaxing against his face.

“Spencer,” you beg, your moans sounding like the sobs of a spoiled child.

“You broke a rule, princess. I can’t just let you get away with that.” You moan at the loss of contact, your voice whinier than you'd ever heard it.

He left the bed entirely then, and you lifted your head up to follow his path to the drawers by the side of the bed. Opening it, he picked up the wedding license you'd discarded on the floor, placing it nearly inside and slowly pulling out a pair of handcuffs. Your standard FBI set, not something light, flimsy, and cushioned with fluff, these were hard and cold against your skin as he returned to the bed.

"Wait, S-Spencer…. Really?" You panicked as he pulled one arm over your head placing it parallel with the headboard, trapped between the slats. He tightened the cuff around your hand, leaving one free as he started kissing down your arm, down to your shoulder and into the hollow of your neck.

"Yes, really. Now since you want to use that other hand so badly, why don't you use it to get yourself off." You swallowed the spit in your mouth, and nodded at him, before doing just as he asked, picking up where his hands had gotten off.

He shifted to sitting just by your side, lifting your body half on top of him, your back pressed up against his chest as he watched over your shoulder as your hand-worked you into a frenzy. Bringing both of his hands around your body, he started playing with your nipples, rolling them between his fingers, pulling and fondling your breasts as your breathing became more labored.

"There are seven different female orgasms, you know. The clitoral orgasm, the G-spot orgasm, the blended orgasm, the anal orgasm, the A-spot orgasm, a purely psychological orgasm, and," he leaned down closer to your ear to finish his sentence. "The nipple orgasm." You struggled against the handcuff as you felt the tightness build in your chest, but he grabbed and held your other hand close to him as he pushed up on top of you again.

"How many do you think you'll get tonight, Y/N?" He asked, lowering his head back to your chest as you bucked your hips wildly, trying to feel him in between your legs.

He pushed down your hips and kept his attention on your chest, your brain going fuzzy with the contact as the orgasm that had been imminent kept growing until you couldn't stop it from rushing over you, chumming with his attention solely on your chest.

"You didn't answer my question?" He brought his head up, frowning slightly as you blinked your eyes open and focused on his shape above you.

"Did you read some kind of sex book, Spencer? Jesus Christ that was…" You couldn't say anything else and he chuckled from above you.

"I didn't read one, I've read multiple, and it's less reading and more committing to absolute memory." He swooped back down to your lips. "Answer the question, how many do you think you'll get tonight?"

"Two?" You ask vaguely, immediately opening your mouth back up to keep rambling. "But Spencer I've never really had more than one with another person and I'm not sure if I even can-"

"You can. You will. You promised to listen to me, remember?" You flushed at his words, choosing simply to just nod for him instead of trusting your tongue to spit out the right words.

"Good girl," he says, wrapping your legs around him, and running his cock through your folds, holding it there as he teased you.

"I don't have to use a condom, right? You want me to drop my load directly into you, right? We're married now, so I can just fuck my seed into you, hmm?" You moaned out, begging for him to just push into you, to keep his promises and pleasure you again and again.

"Hands in the sheets baby, come on, no touching remember?" You did as you were told, and with another kiss to your lips, tongues locking in your battle, he thrust his entire length into you in one movement.

A scream of pleasure ripped out of you, just as quick and fast as you were sure you ripped the sheets of the bed, your sharp nails digging in for dear life as you struggled against the desire to hold him against you.

"That's it, princess. That's it." He starts thrusting, snapping his hips up, and slowly pulling himself out again. For a moment, it was like you weren't breathing at all, his body feeding you everything you needed to sustain yourself. Lungs burning, you gulped in large breaths of him. His tongue swallowed each and every complaint, as he shared in your pleasure.

He wasn't afraid to be vocal, like some men you'd been with in the past, and the sounds of his pleasure echoed out louder than your own. He was moaning in your ear, telling you how beautiful you looked on him as he pounded into you relentlessly. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead as he slapped into you again and again.

His hand came up to your face as he grew closer to his climax, pushing his fingers back into your mouth as he turned your face further against the pillow. Your spit dribbled out of your mouth as you moaned around his fingers, pussy clenching on his dick as you felt your embarrassment rise.

"So pretty and messy," he mumbled, hips keeping his pace up.

"Did you make sure to swallow all of my cum earlier baby? Because if there was any of it left on my cock, I'm fucking it into you. Going to drop another load next to it so you can feel me knock you up."

Unlike your first orgasm, you don't feel this one coming, you just know that he's hitting a spot so deep that it's never been reached before and saying the exact words that are pulling it closer to you, and then you're ecstasy has you squirting around his dick.

"That's right. There you go, baby, lay nice and calm there, I need to keep going."

You were overstimulated, already feeling your desire burn a path through you again. He pulled out though, but made it clear that his intention was just to switch the positions of your bodies.

Making sure not to twist your locked-up arm uncomfortably, he laid on the bed and pulled your fucked out body on top of him. You shivered at his touch and he pulled you further into his embrace warming you up.

Your chest was pressed against his back, your head rolled back on his shoulder as he gently coaxed your legs apart one more time.

"That's it, baby, you're listening so well. Just push your legs apart for me, okay?" You did as he asked, and he pressed your legs further up and apart, grabbing into the flesh of your thighs as he aligned his dick with your aching pussy and pressed into you one more time.

The new angle had you moaning around you, as he encouraged you to start lifting your hips up and down, as he trusted up into you, your eyes rolling back into your head as he hit an electric point inside of you. He grabbed your hand to steady you as you moved to a seated position, letting your heels dig into the bed as you began riding him.

You were so tired that it didn't last long though, your hips stuttering awkwardly.

"It's okay, Y/N, I'll do the rest, you just stay right there." From his place underneath you, he kept your thighs from above him as he thrust into you just as quickly as before, somehow maintaining his stamina despite the edging, the alcohol, and the energy you'd already exerted.

Just as you were really about to lose your mind, he pulled out again, escaping from beneath you and gently laying you back on the bed.

"One more position, princess, and then we can rest. You've been so good for me, you can do this, right? Can let me drop all of my cum inside you?" You nodded another sleepy yes, eyes somewhere between closed and open. There was no strength left in your body to stiffen up as he began moving your now malleable body into position, but that doesn't mean you didn't let out a moan at the way he'd stretched you out.

Pushing your legs apart again, he's settled between them, but instead of letting them wrap around him, he'd kept hold of them, pushing your knees up still until they were on either side of your chest. He kissed away complaints and approvals that didn't come and slowly pushed into you again.

He was evidently close, by the way he was drawing this out now. His fingers found your clit as his cock slowly worked in and out of you, the snap of his hips completely controlled and even in tempo.

"Just keep doing that, Spence, oh my god," you begged, words suddenly returning to you. His fingers on your clit increased in pressure, but his pace otherwise didn't change, and you soon felt that third orgasm ripple through you, finally leaving you with no more to give.

Your last fall from grace had him following you swiftly after, his lips finding yours as he crashed back down on top of you, hips stuttering as he drank you in like wine.

The rest was a blur, really, sleep having claimed you so swiftly that you barely remember the words he had definitely whispered to you as soon as he caught his breath again.

"I love you. It's always been you."

Other than a vague recollection of him rearranging your legs so you wouldn't struggle to walk the next day, and the sensation of a cold, damp cloth on your skin, nothing besides remained.

–X–

It's unfortunate, really, that the memory came to you when you did, his lips on yours heating you up in a way that made you absolutely want to relive every experience he had given you. But paralyzed with shock, you'd had only one recon to choose a reaction, and out of fight, flight, fawn, or freeze, you'd gone for slam the door in his fucking face.

Not your finest moment.

Which is why after two minutes of listening to his confusion on the other side of the hall, your brain kicked back into gear and you started weighing your options.

It would be wrong to open the apartment doors and pull him back in, right? It would certainly be wrong to pull him in and demand a re-do of the first time you'd forgotten. Would he even want to redo doing it with you? And what did he mean when he said "I love you."

It was those words more specifically that scared you. You'd both been absolutely intoxicated when you'd fallen into the wedding chapel together and still remarkably unstable afterward presumably. There was a high likelihood that he hadn't known what he was saying, and taking a risk on a friendship for half a memory and wishful thinking wasn't a great calculation.

But gripping the door handle, you realized your body had made the decision for you, completely overwhelmed by the need to see him again.

When you opened the door, no one was there. Your phone pinged with a text as you looked around disappointedly, not finding him anywhere. Looking down at your phone, you cursed your own stupidity as you read his message.

"Sorry. I won't do that again."

You typed out explanations and deleted them over and over for what seemed like an hour, guilt eating you up.

Eventually, you threw your phone down in resignation, and, grabbing your groceries, started frantically planning your next steps.

Step one: wallow in your own misery.

Step two: crack open the single bottle of red wine in your pantry.

Step three: beg for heavenly guidance.

After the wine was opened, you picked up the phone again and shot off a quick emergency message to Penelope.

"Pen, need help, may have just ruined EVERYTHING with Reid because I remembered our wedding night mid-kiss - long story. Mine, now? Xx"

You couldn't stand to look at your phone after that, putting it on silent and assuming the single time it flashed was confirmation that Penelope was on her way. After half an hour, you sprang from your seat at the sound of the door, making your way back to the scene of your most recent number one embarrassing memory.

Only opening the door to Emily Prentiss, you were sure you'd just dethroned yourself.

"You're going to have to start from the beginning or explain to me that that message had multiple typing errors, because just when did you and Reid get married, and why is it suddenly over now?"

--X--

🏷️ Pt 1 @w-windy @multifandom-on-the-side @reidandhotchsgirl @babybluecakes @hugyourlungs @prentissesredtanktop @reidscaffeine @bethanyhaas01 @average-sunflower @academiareid @sailortongue @daddy-dotcom @high-functioning-cosplayer @anniewhalelover @abbyshmaby @isabel-ffl-xoxo @sujan39 @frxcless @bluestuesday @busy-buzzing @breadbrobin @maxinehufflepuffprincess @l0v3cam @booksandwonderlands @myescapefromthislife @ferrjulie @scoobydoopoo @aelinismyqueen @littlesingingbean @jamiemuscatosslut @xohoneybun @anchovy89freya @dysphoricsanity @ghostheartbeat @casss2111 @rebloggiest-reblogger @wishyoudaskme @imawhoreforu @academiacoffeelover @softservepunk @andiebeaword @r-3dlips @wakaladjarin @ratbastardchild @mcira

@danika1994 @stargurl99 @whovianwholikesgirls @its-not-too-late-for-coffee @doriantomybasil

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femdomlieeh · 9 months ago

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Crown (m)

Sub!Heeseung (ENHYPEN) x Dom!F!Reader

WC—5.8 ✧ k

WARNING—bathtub sex ✧ role-play (lovers/ gf & bf) ✧ blindfolding (m) ✧ stripping (m) ✧ unprotected sex (be safe yall!) ✧ piv ✧ light S&M ✧ dacryphilia (m) ✧ body worship (m) ✧ nipple play (m!r) ✧ light spanking (m!r) ✧ breath play (m!r) ✧ lingerie (f) ✧ teasing (m!r) ✧ thigh kink ✧ tattoo kink (?) ✧ brief begging ✧ biting (m!r) ✧ praise (f!g) ✧ marking (f!g) ✧ pet names (mami, prince, baby)

THEMES—smut ✧ best friend au ✧ fwb for one night agreement ✧ a little angsty

NOW PLAYING—imagine ✧ Ariana Grande

A/N. This is actually my favourite smut I’ve posted so far so I hope you enjoy!

Old Seungwoo version

M.LISTS—enhypen ✧ latest updates ✧ read on wp

✦ ੈ ✧ ‧₊˚ * ੈ ✧‧₊˚＊* ੈ ✧ ‧₊˚ * ੈ ✧‧₊˚＊* ✧ ੈ ✧

Valentine’s Day.

The happiest day of the year for couples.

Couples could finally do PDA and have people cooing at them in either cuteness or jealousy, but never disgust because PDA was allowed on Valentine's Day.

People could finally have an excuse to do something special for someone, like making a grand romantic gesture or even proposing.

It was supposed to be that way, right?

I was going to have a corny day together with my boyfriend of three years, Yeonjun. Every single detail all the way from the restaurant to the hotel room had been thought out by me, because – not only am I romantic – I always like to be prepared.

Not to sound cocky or to flatter myself, but the plan was so good even I was impressed with it.

Except not everything went to plan.

My lover decided to break up with me one month before the awaited day. One month before Valentine's Day! Only two weeks into the new year! He had "grown out of love" as he'd said. Guess one of his New Year's resolutions was to break up with me.

My parents had met him and accepted him — which said a lot, since they've always had high standards and never liked any of my previous lovers — so it was safe to say that I felt lost.

For two weeks I'd avoided contact with my family, so I wouldn't have to tell them the news yet because I was embarrassed, I was single right in time for the day of love. The only person who knew, other than me and Yeonjun, was my best friend Heeseung.

Since the moment I told him, he made it his daily routine to come to my place with open arms and a warm embrace. I never cried in front of anyone but him. It isn't weak to shed tears, in fact shedding tears takes a lot of strength, I simply don't feel comfortable showing myself vulnerable to others, and especially not after being hurt by someone I trusted.

With Heeseung, it was different, however. We've known each other for so many years and we know most of each other's secrets already. I know that when I cry in front of him it's without being judged and he knows the same goes for him.

One day when he, like normally, went to my place, his smile was abnormal. It was fake. I knew it was fake. After all these years of knowing him, I could distinguish his fake smiles from his true ones faster than Eminem can rap.

Being the caring best friend I am, I asked him what had happened. At that, he broke down and let go of the fooling smile; he can never lie to me for more than a few seconds. His girlfriend, Karina, had broken up with him. Honestly speaking, it was understandable why she wanted to break up with him: 1. He spent too much time with me, 2. He never told her about his thoughts or what bothered him, 3. He didn't treat her like the queen everyone knows she is

Heeseung was mature and didn't beg her for a second chance because he knew she deserved someone better; someone who not only knew she deserved to be treated like a queen but treated her like it. But no matter how mature he was, it didn't make the pain smaller on his part. He was disappointed in himself for ever being in a relationship where he didn't treat his lover right.

And so it was my turn to comfort him. For a couple of days, I had opened arms and a warm embrace for him to find comfort in until he had calmed down.

Impulsively, we went to a tattoo shop and got him a tattoo. It wasn't the I'm-heartbroken-and-need-a-tattoo-to-look-good tattoo, it was the I-need-some-inspiration-in-this-dark-place tattoo. After brainstorming for a long ten minutes, he got the best idea. Don't lock me up, in italics right under his collarbone, above his heart to remind himself to not lock up his feelings.

He had been in great pain for the quarter of time it took to do the tattoo, but he didn't seem to mind... Judging by the way he was biting his lower lip, he was holding in a pained whine, seemingly trying to impress me by handling the pain. When the torture finally had come to an end, the final product made him smile truly – although that part of his body had to be covered with plastic and some tape whenever he so much as wanted to shower.

A week away from Valentine's Day, Heeseung and I made a pact; the kind of pact we never would have planned to have with each other. During the holiday we'd do all the cheesy things we had planned to do to our now-ex-lovers – but the most crucial parts was that A) the other person wouldn't judge and B) next day all of it would be forgotten. Wow. We had grown so dependent on each other's care that we made the kind of pact we never would have planned to have with each other...

It was probably stupid to do such a thing with a best friend of so many years, but it was also the 'healthiest' thing to do for us two. Although I, at this point, had convinced Heeseung that I was over Yeonjun, I still hadn't convinced myself. And the same went for Heeseung; he had convinced me that he was over Karina, but not himself.

My plan for Valentine's Day was sublime and if I didn't go through with it, I would regret it — and, damn, I couldn't wait a whole year for the next opportunity (if I even would get the opportunity)!

And that explains this. Us standing. A week later. On a romantic rooftop. Dressed nicely. Smiling awkwardly at each other. On Valentine's Day.

"Since you're my boyfriend tonight, let's go down to the room I rented, shall we?"

"This feels weird," he giggled lightly.

"Play along!" I held out my hand for him to hold and flashed him a smile. He reciprocated my smile and took my hand, following my lead down the stairs to our hotel room; the room I had booked for me and Yeonjun.

Our hands were sweating. It wasn't the first time Heeseung and I held hands, but it was the first time we ever did something like this together; something normal best friends don't do. The affection we've displayed to each other throughout the years had been mostly words and hugs and sometimes cuddles. But now...we were going to show affection in ways we've only done to lovers.

I held out the black card key in front of the sensor above the golden knob but retracted it before the door unlocked.

"If you want to turn back, now is the time to do so. I don't want to go through with this if you don't want to," I said and looked at him.

His eyes told me that it was OK, but I needed his consent to be sure he was OK.

"I want to do this, don't worry," he smiled a little as his heart pounded.

Without breaking eye contact, I put the card in front of the sensor again and waited a few microseconds for it to unlock. I turned the knob and opened the door to the pact.

"After you," I gestured him to enter the room.

"Why thank you," he blushed and hurried inside so I wouldn't catch a glimpse of his flustered state.

But I did.

And I smiled when I saw it.

The room was big and open. Simple, but just perfect. Knowing me and my cheesy nature, Heeseung had expected perhaps some rose petals on the bed or a few scented candles by the bed but, to his surprise, he saw none of that.

I pushed him down onto the soft bed with silk sheets, distracting him for the real surprise, and sat beside him.

"Before we do anything, we need safe words."

"Safe words?" he inquired and raised a brow unknowingly.

"A word to say in case anyone goes overboard or passes the limits," I explained shortly.

"Alright, mine is apple."

"Why apple though?" I giggled at his randomness.

"I ate an apple today." (It was true, he'd had a green apple because he once read that green apples make your breath smell better.)

"If you're going for a fruit I am too. My safe word is peach."

"Why peach?" he raised his brow at me stealing his fruit idea.

"Your peach looks really good in those pants, so it was the first thing I thought of," I replied and laughed at his flustered self.

He knew he had a plump peach.

It was just embarrassing hearing it from me since I, as his best friend, am supposed to not acknowledge how incredibly handsome he is – and especially when it comes to body parts such as peaches!

I put my hand on his thigh to get his attention away from the embarrassment.

"Tonight, I'm not your best friend anymore, Prince," I said with a newfound tone that sent shivers down Heeseung's spine.

I neared him and whispered in his ear, "Tonight, I'm your Mami."

He gulped. I had always been a very dominant person in everything I did, so he expected nothing less than that in bed — but the foreign titles took him by surprise. But it made sense for me to use titles in bed, because I was classy like that.

"What's your safe word?" I asked to make sure he knows he can use it whenever he wants to. After all I didn't know what was out of his comfort-zone.

"Apple."

"If you feel uncomfortable you know you need to say that word, understood?"

"Yes, Mami," he answered, a blush creeping up his neck to his cheeks.

With his green light I continued, "Good boy."

At the praise, his cheeks matched the floating rose petals. I loved how responsive he was already. Before tonight I wasn't sure what kind of partner he would be but finding out what he likes step by step excites me – more than I thought finding out my best friend's kinks would excite me. I want to know everything. What turns him on, what makes him scream, what makes him cry; everything.

"My best friend's into praise, hm. Who would have thought?" I teased and squeezed his thigh lightly.

"I'm not your best friend anymore, Mami. I'm Prince, right?"

I looked into his eyes and saw something I'd never seen in them before. Was it lust? Was it something else? How could I be sure of what it was if I hadn't seen him like this before?

"Indeed, you are, Prince," I smiled, slowly feeling my hand up his thick, muscular thigh.

He followed my hand's path with his gaze and bit his lip like back in the tattoo shop. Was he holding in a moan, perhaps? When my hand was at the top, soon on his V-line, I heard how his breathing grew louder and more unsteady.

He seemed to enjoy his thighs being touched.

I noticed how his pants were forming a tent in the prince area, and smirked. To tease him, I let go of his thigh and walked up to the door to the bathroom. He tensed. Maybe he wanted me to touch him some more?

"After you, Prince," I said and opened the door for him.

Once again that stereotype-breaking gesture had him blushing ferociously.

He went into the new room, not expecting much other than grabbing a condom. But when the sight he was met by was nowhere near what he expected, yet it didn't shock him one bit. A large bathtub filled with atypical pink water and typical red rose petals floating on the surface.

He chuckled, "As expected, my best friend is a cheesy person."

"I'm not your best friend anymore, Prince. I'm your Mami, right?" I asked with a confident smirk.

"Y-Yes," he stuttered and turned away from me so he could avoid my powerful gaze.

"Yes what?" I pushed a little to see how comfortable he was with the title.

"Yes, I'm Mami's Prince," he said under his breath.

I went up behind him and wrapped my arms around his torso, feeling the expensive fabric under my fingertips. "Want to take this off for me?"

"Y-Yes, Mami."

I smiled, "Then give me a little show." He gulped as I sat down on the edge of the tub to get a full view of him. With adrenaline coursing through his body, he let the blazer fall off his shoulders and land on the floor, followed by the ivory dress shirt. As soon as his skin was touched by the air, goosebumps formed, and he flexed his abs. He sure had worked hard to get flex his muscles like this.

Biting my lip, I pointed at his ivy pants, "Take those off too." The way I bit my lip made him feel confident. I didn't bite my lip to prevent honest sounds from falling out like Heeseung did, I bit my lip to prevent myself from ripping the rest of his clothes off. He undid the belt and let the pants pool down around his ankles. Now, in front of me, was he standing in nothing but a pair of black boxers that were fitting all too tight due to those thick thighs and the clearly big erection. He was gulping under my gaze, waiting for me to instruct him on what to do.

"Show me your prince part, Prince." Blushing at the euphemism, he put his fingers under the waistband and pulled his boxers down. He was fit and attractive. Each muscle on his body was visibly hard, including his dick that was high and proud in the air. "You're so handsome, Prince," I praised and watched a small smile break out on his face.

He walked to me with his head down and stood with his tall figure in front of my sitting posture. "Do you want me to touch you, Prince?"

"Yes, please." At that, I put a finger in the middle of his chest and traced it down his abs and to the tip of his dick. He bit his lip again to stop any embarrassing noises from escaping; he wanted to impress me by being good. But I didn't want to give him too much pleasure yet.

"Let's get wet now, shall we? I didn't fill this tub for aesthetics..." He laughed lightly, feeling more at ease at the small joke I made. Listening, he slowly set foot into the tub and tried not to spill so much as a drop of the water. It took him a good half minute to fully settle down since he's so tall and big due to his muscles — but that was good, because it gave me plenty of time to prepare additional surprises for him.

When he averted his attention from the pink water and back to me, he was met by an astonishing, breathtaking, life-changing sight. Me. In lingerie. With a red silk blindfold in hand. This specific lace lingerie was Yeonjun's favorite, so I naturally chose to wear it now – in red to match the theme of the holiday. I felt the most comfortable in it. In this color. In this fabric. Everything made me feel sexy. But the memories of what me and him had done while I was in it brought back a gloominess.

Heeseung didn't know how to react. Did I pick the color red because it was the traditional color of Valentine's Day or because I knew it was his favorite color? For some odd and unknown reason, he hoped for the latter one.

"You look so handsome like this, Prince, but I think you'd look even better in this," I winked and held up the red blindfold. He shuddered. The little piece of fabric was something different. Never had he ever used one in the bedroom — only in fun games with friends, where you had to trust your teammates. Now, however, he was going to put his trust in me.

"What's your safe word?"

"Apple," he answered, "I trust you. You don't need to ask me about it all the time, I'll tell if you need to stop."

"But we've never done this before so I'm scared of it going wrong," I admitted.

"I trust you. Trust me too, Mami."

"As you wish, Prince," I replied.

Once again, I sat down on the edge of the bathtub. I lowered the love blindfold to his face, holding it right above. He was looking at me with those big, curious eyes, filled with anticipation for what was going to happen. How long I was staying still was quickening his heartbeat; he knew I wanted him to be verbal.

"Please," he said, feeling slightly impatient; his heart would jump out his chest any second now. Smiling, I finally put the blindfold on him and tightened it behind his head, making sure it wasn't too tight since I didn't want to ruin his beautiful hair or innocence too much. Oh wait, scratch the last one. I petted his hair, which was equally smooth as the silk around his head. "Does it hurt, Prince?" I asked, referring to the blindfold.

"No, Mami." The silk was smooth against his skin and, although all he could see was darkness, it was magical; all the other senses were heightened. He could hear me breathing and even imagine what I was thinking whilst I was touching him this gently. Maybe I was thinking of how much I loved him as a best friend. Maybe I was thinking of how I'd ruin him. Maybe I was thinking of what to do next.

Slowly I proceeded to his neck. He could feel my presence, through my breaths on his skin, and thus elongated his neck for me — he couldn't see me, but he could sense what I wanted. I began placing small kisses up his neck to his well-defined jaw, while he tried to keep his breathing in control. The kisses were small, yet they made such a big impact on him since his sense of touch was thousands of times greater than normal.

"M-Mami?"

"Yes, Prince," I said between kisses.

"Can I...touch you?"

"Not yet," I smirked and moved further down to his collarbone. I left open-mouthed kisses all over it and stopped to admire his tattoo. Technically I had been the one who had encouraged him to get it. It was so small, but it held so much meaning behind it. My fingers were tracing along the tattoo, soothing Heeseung. He felt calm. He felt at peace. He felt connected to me. When my fingers traced lower and experimentally touched his nipple, he let out a whimper. Bingo.

"Sensitive much?"

He didn't answer, embarrassed.

"I asked you something, Prince," I said with a less kind voice.

"Yes, Mami. I-I'm sensitive, but you already knew that."

It was true. Since the start of our friendship he had showed his vulnerability and sensitivity. He never liked it when I jokingly roasted him, only being into compliments and praises. Praising. I bet he'd be into that.

He whimpered out a 'Mami' when I attached my lips to his nipple. Trying to not shock his body too much, I only gave a quick kitten lick, yet it seemed to affect him a lot when he couldn't hold back a sole whimper. I couldn't tell if it were because of the sensitivity provided by the blindfold or because he had sensitive nipples. Either way, I wanted to test how much I could make him feel.

To give him a little sensation without touching him, I breathed on the wet nipple so he shivered a little at the coldness. He put both of his hands on each edge of the tub to stabilize himself, feeling like he could lose the bare control he had now that I found a weak spot of his. I flattened my tongue and licked against him, making him quiver.

"M-M-Mami," he stuttered breathily. He wasn't trying to call me, nor was he trying to tell me anything — my actions simply lit a part of him that seemed to love my title. He knew exactly how to turn me on and this was the first time we had ever been intimate. It was actually cute how my best friend was so accustomed to both mine and his title. Yeonjun's title, I meant.

I reached my hand under the surface of the water and felt up his thigh. He moaned. Yes. Moaned. At a simple touch. Ashamed of the moan, he let go of one of the edges and brought his hand over his mouth, making him lose a part of his balance. "Don't keep your sounds to yourself, Prince. Give them to me," I ordered.

Smirking against his skin, I started sucking which caused a gasp to erupt at the sudden stimulation. "M-Mami, Mami—" he whimpered loudly. He had tried to keep his noises to himself until now, but although it hurt his pride a little, he liked pleasing me.

How could whimpers sound so beautiful? They were so angelic and graceful, contrary to the scene of sinning. I retracted from him to admire the view. One nipple was red and swollen and the other one was left untouched. Each muscular arm was resting on each edge, trying not to move a millimeter. The blindfold was covering part of his face yet matched with his feverish blush. His mouth was agape, letting the whimpers I loved oh so much out every now and then. I was happy I hadn't gone for the cliché bubble bath, because now that the water was clear I could see his naked body — every part from his beauteously tattooed upper body to his thick stone-hard thighs and dick.

But there was one part of his body that I couldn't see. One part that was magnificent and that I needed to see. "Turn around," I whispered in his ear.

"W-What?"

"Turn around and show me your butt, Prince," I clarified and waited for him to move.

Unsurely, he supported himself on the edges and sat up. Although he couldn't see he could feel, so he had no difficulty turning around and putting his hands on the edge he had been resting his back on until now. He arched his back, adding to the sex appeal that the tub already delivered. Damn, how could an ass be that good-looking? How could—

"C-Can you spank me?" he interrupted me from my thoughts.

Did I even know my best friend? Or did he know me so well that he knew that was exactly what I wanted to do in that moment?

"What do you say, Prince?"

Good boy knew the answer, "Please."

"You'll need to beg a little more than that," I said teasingly, making him swallow yet another piece of his pride.

"Can you, please, please, spank me, Mami? I've been so good until now; don't I deserve it?"

He made a fair point. And he also confirmed my theory of him having a praise kink.

"Yes, you do, Prince. You've been so obedient until now, of course you deserve a little pain."

His cheeks tinted pink. Yes, he did indeed have a praise kink.

Suddenly I spanked him, creating a loud echo of skin-to-skin sound. He jolted forward with a whine, not expecting the hit since he couldn't see me or my hand in the air. His cheeks jiggled and I swore that my ex had never made me this wet before as I felt my wetness drip down my thighs.

"H-Harder, please, Mami."

"Since you're such a good prince for me, of course!" Those words. He loved hearing them. He knew I probably had those thoughts already, since he's aware he's a good boy, but hearing me say them made his heart race. Once again, I hit his skin and made him jolt forward from the harsh touch. Except this time, he moaned out my title louder. He held his head down, adding to the submission.

"M-Mami—"

"You want more, Prince?"

"Yes, plea—"

Spank! Before he even could finish his answer, my hand was back on his cheek again — I had already predicted his answer. Now one of his cheeks had my red handprint on it, matching his blindfold and blush, whilst the other cheek had no mark. And I was going to keep it that way. Asymmetry is beautiful.

His blindfold, nipple and cheek weren't the only things red. The part of his body that needed me the most hadn't gotten any attention yet. His dick's color stood out from most of his body and the way he reacted to small touches could only hint at him needing me to touch it.

"Turn around," I ordered him again.

"W-What— But you haven't—"

"Do you want me to touch your prince part?" I disrupted him.

"Y-Yes."

"Then turn around and show it to me, Prince."

He let go of the tub and turned around in the water, making sure to be comfortable when resting his back against it because he knew he'd stay in that position for a while. He heard how I got into the tub too. The water was rippling, and my feet were touching the tub; he could both feel and hear that I got in. Slowly, as to not drive any water out, I sank down onto his lap and put my hands on the tub on either side of his head. The feeling of my smooth skin on his indicated I had taken off the lingerie. That only meant one thing. I drew closer to him and whispered in his ear a million-dollar question: "Do you want your dick inside me?"

Gulping, he nodded promptly.

"Use your words, Prince," I sang.

He took another gulp before speaking, "Y-Yes, please, Mami."

"Good boy," I praised and watched as his true smile made an appearance like it'd done many times tonight.

Only to form an 'o' and let a long moan out as I sat down and got filled up by his dick deliciously. "Ah~ M-Mami~" The sensitivity of waiting and being blindfolded added with my tightness was what brought out his embarrassingly loud moan.

I needed to get used to the size since he was bigger than my last lover. In the meantime, I decided to get back to his stunning neck and kiss it. He had two prominent birthmarks under his Adam's apple; the left one was higher up and the right one was closer to his collarbone. Since I can remember I had liked them. They were a distinctive feature of his, just like his tattoos. I kissed both birthmarks and started moving up and down slowly on his dick. This wasn't going to be a hard fuck session; this was going to be a slow and soft lovemaking session because he was my prince. For tonight at least.

He sporadically let out moans that ranged from high to low pitched, long to short lasting — all of them were music to my ears — a love song I'd think of every now and then when I didn't have my prince by my side. The sound of the water moving each time I did was the background music. I started marking his neck with beautiful love bites, not hickeys, because these marks were out of love. Love and pride, as I wanted everyone to see that he was mine.

As I sucked harder on his neck, his moans turned into constant whimpers. He didn't know what this feeling was. Never had he ever made love with someone before. Sure, he'd been caring in bed but never had he felt this cared for before. On the other hand, it wasn't my first time. I had done this to Yeonjun every time I wanted him to know how much he meant to me (all the time). But, although this was an illusion me and Heeseung had created, it felt real.

"Ma-Mami, can you go rougher on me? Please?" At that I sunk my teeth into his collarbone, not the one with the tattoo, but the bare one. I didn't want to cover the meaning behind the tattoo, instead I wanted to cover the other part of skin, so I'd be the one who in a way adorned both sides. The friend in me was in his tattoo and the lover in me was in his mark. He bit his lower lip to try to conceal the pathetic whimper, failing while doing so. Sure, he loved being taken care of, but he also loved pain.

My thrusts were slow, yet long lasting, like the memory of this night would be soon. This felt surreal. Our connection. Our love. Our everything. The love bites on his neck and the literal bite mark on his collarbone would be enough proof the next morning when Heeseung would wake up that this night in fact had happened.

He let go of his lower lip and let the whimpers out freely, not caring that it hurt his pride because when you're in love your pride doesn't matter as much as it did before. He was reaching his breaking point and so was I but we both purposely held our orgasms back. We didn't want this to end. We wanted this love to last as long as it possibly could. We knew that the next day we would go back to being best friends; there'd be no more Prince and Mami. We knew that we would be gone like the pink water in this tub would be in the morning. The marks would remain on his neck and shoulder the next morning...but the illusion of love wouldn't.

"A-Are you cumming?" I asked, drunk on love.

"Y-Yes, b-but I can wait." We had already been at it for longer than an hour — even the water was cold — but that wasn't enough. We were both exhausted, both mentally because it was late and physically because of the lovemaking.

"I know you want to cum, Prince," I said, not wanting him to wear himself out.

"C-Can you choke me first, Mami? Please, I've a-always wanted y-you to do that to me," he mumbled.

I didn't answer him, instead I let go of the edge and circled my fingers around his neck. For most people, choking was some kinky shit. But for us, it was romance. I was quite literally holding his life in my hand and he trusted me with it. He trusted me with his whole life, and I didn't let him down. That's a part of love; letting yourself into a vulnerable position, knowing the other person can hurt you, but staying because you have faith in that they would love you instead.

In this moment, he had everything he didn't know he wanted. He felt like he'd arrived in utopia by accident. There was nothing he wanted to change. Nothing. And neither did I. His marks were asymmetrical, but that was in my eyes perfect. I tightened my grip on his neck a little, making him choke out a small whiney moan. At the same time, I felt my core aching and his dick pulsating. We needed to cum. Physically we needed to. But emotionally we didn't want to.

"Let's cum together," I said and let go of his neck

"Please, just a little more," he begged.

"We can't hold back, and you know it," I stated.

"Please, Mami," he cracked his voice. I looked at his face. His face was red, and the blindfold had wet patches. The patches weren't there because of the water splashing on him (I had made sure to not splash any on his face), they were there because they'd gotten out of his eyes. He was crying, not wanting us to come to an end. But we needed to. He wasn't my boyfriend; he was only playing the role of my boyfriend. I treated him as if he were Yeonjun, not Heeseung.

For the first time ever, I kissed him. Not on his body, but on his lips. He returned the kiss with just as much thirst as me. Surrounded by water, yet we thirsted for each other. We needed to savor this before it ran out. I tangled my hands into his soft hair, not caring if I ruined his hair anymore. I didn't care. All I cared about was this moment. For the first time this night, he let go of the tub fully and put his hands on my skin, letting them relish and remember every curve and edge before he'd never get to touch me like this ever again.

I paused the kiss and said for the last time, "Let's cum together."

"Can you take th-the blindfold off first?"

Truth was that he wanted to see me so he could have a visual memory of that one time he made love with his best friend. During all of this, he'd had a blindfold and although he felt that everything was real, he wanted to know for sure he wasn't dreaming. I untied it and threw it away to who-cares-where. He opened his eyes and took in the view of me. I was naked. I was raw. I was vulnerable. I had no layers shrouding any part of me. "I love you," he said, looking into my eyes.

Holding his face in my hands, I said, "I love you too."

And there we reached our climax.

The end.

{One year later}

Valentine's Day.

The happiest day of the year for couples.

I walked into our bedroom and was met by a wonderful view. My real boyfriend was standing in front of our bed. "I missed you so much, Baby," I smiled and kissed his cheek as per usual.

He was clad in only a pair of boxers and nothing else. "I have a little surprise for you."

"Oh really?" I asked, amused, and sat down on the bed as he stood in front of me.

He coughed to clear his throat and looked serious, "I've been keeping a little secret from you for a little while now..."

What did he mean? Had he been reconsidering our relationship? Was I going to relive the same heartbreak as last year?

I must've looked worried, because suddenly he broke out of the serious trance he tried to be in and smiled at me. Slowly he pulled down his underwear to reveal the little surprise.

Right on his V-line.

A tattoo.

Of a little crown.

Because he is my prince.

✦ ੈ ✧ ‧₊˚ * ੈ ✧‧₊˚＊* ੈ ✧ ‧₊˚ * ੈ ✧‧₊˚＊* ✧ ੈ ✧

“Me with no makeup, you in the bathtub

Bubbles and bubbly, ooh

This is a pleasure, feel like we never

Act this regular

(…)

Kiss me and take off your clothes

Imagine a world like that”

—ari

691 notes · View notes

jungkookstatts · 2 years ago

Text

University Superstar

[Summary]: Jeon Jungkook is your University’s biggest rock-star-athlete-hot guy. It literally prides itself on his attendance at the school — walking around with his “big name” (captain of the lacrosse team), tattoos, and rude, jock-like personality. You hate him. You hate that he can’t apologize for being a complete asshole. But what you don’t hate is how he visits your office every day. You also don’t hate that your feelings for him are crawling back into your system…

[Theme]: Jock!Jk, LacrossePlayer!JK x TeacherIntern!Y/N, Friends(?)ToLovers!AU, EnimeisToLovers!AU

[Rating]: 18+, explicit content, lots of hickies, mentions of blowjob, consistent flirting, JK is an extreme asshole (he actually got on my nerves for some of it lol), insensitive JK, lots of passion, squirting, kissing, pining after one another (mainly JK)

[Word Count]: 10,291

[Author’s Note]: I didn’t plan on making Y/n an education major…? But then I was thinking of JK in a bomber jacket and jock x teacher!AU and…yeah no, it had to happen.

[Masterlist] [Sequel] [Drabble (1), (2), (3)]

Jeon Jungkook.

The name makes you hurl a little in your mouth. Yesterday’s lunch makes its way to the back of your throat. But you swallow it down, telling yourself to be strong and that he will go away soon.

“So,” he banters a smile at you. That stupid yellow and blue lacrosse bomber jacket puffs out around his shoulders, the number “07” poking out in the ugliest school-sprit font you’ve ever seen on his sleeves. His elbows rest on your desk, arms delicately pushing some of your papers and trinkets out of his way. The action only fuels your anger.

“7 o’clock. You and me. Chipotle.”

“In your dreams, fuckboy,” you scoff. The audacity he has to ask you out. The audacity he has to find the school you intern at (literally on your universities campus, but still), interrupt your work, and ask you on a date for the nth time since a few weeks ago.

You think this might be the 5th time this week he’s asked you out on a date. And it’s only Wednesday.

The amount of explaining you still have to do to your coworkers, and even your kindergartner students, is exhausting. Everyone knows who he is. He’s the captain of your Universities lacrosse team, probably the most popular guy on campus…one of “the hottest” guys in the school (according to your coworker and best friend, Aecha)

You remember asking her a while back why he was always “the talk of the town”, and all she could say was: “Well, look at him. How could he not be?”

You get it. He is hot. But that doesn’t stop you from absolutely hating his guts. Not after he spilled his hot, black coffee all over your white shirt and pants a few weeks ago. Not after he stained all of your precious student’s artwork with his scorching hot Americano.

You were on your way to the school to hang them up in your classroom. Stopping at your University library’s coffee shop, you decided to start your day with a little bit of matcha before you decorated your space.

Your students had just completed a “What I Love About Me” project, and their responses literally made you cry…maybe made you ugly cry. So innocent and honest in their responses, this project was probably the most precious to your heart. You had wished you did something like this back when you were so young. Maybe then you would have a reminder on your bad days what younger you always admired before nasty comments and puberty hit your system.

So, when Jeon Jungkook completely drenched them in his black coffee, your stained (and very expensive) white work shirt and pants didn’t even matter. The sopping-wet look of your student’s artwork made you fight to gulp back tears. But you couldn’t help the water that begged to break free from behind your eyelids.

“Oohh!” he laughs, the stupid jock in him making a scene. “Jeez! I’m sorry.” you can feel the antagonizing smirk on his lips as he looks at what he’s done to you. “Here, let me get a napkin,”

Jungkook exits your line of vision and you try to make your way out of the library before he comes back. But, ever the athlete he is, Jungkook is back before you can blink with a giant wad of the coffee shop’s crappy brown napkins.

You don’t even know who is talking to you until you take the napkins from his hands, recognizing those ugly, stupid, hot hand tattoos. Who couldn’t recognize them when the whole university makes Jungkook’s tattoos each and every one of its personality traits?

The realization of your perpetrator being Jeon Jungkook only makes you more upset. Had it been anyone else, the hurt in your heart from your damaged projects might have been less painful.

You immediately start wiping off your student’s projects, placing them on the nearest table and patting them dry, trying your best not to smear the Crayola marker on some of them.

“Woah, hey,” he chuckles to himself again. “Nice line work. Didchya draw those?”

“Please, stop talking.” you spit at him. Finally, you look up at his face, hoping he gets the point.

You think he does, because the minute he catches your gaze, his face freezes. The look adorning your features was angry, but that tear in your eye from what he did to your papers made you really upset. Which, for some reason, made Jungkook's heart clench. Hoping he can’t see the tears trying to break free from your eyelids, you look back down and continue your previous actions.

“I-I, um,” he stutters, his voice much meeker than what it antagonized you with just moments ago. “Look, is there anything I can do? A free drink? New clothes? A personal invitation to Min Yoongi’s New Year’s Party? An escort around the men’s lacrosse team's locker room? …During uniform change?”

“Thanks, but the best thing you can do is leave,” you reply. Just about done drying your projects up the best you can, you gather them in your arms and face the man once again. This time, you stare at his face for more than just a few seconds. You hate that he’s handsome; it only makes it harder to stop looking at the playful smirk forming on his lips from mentioning the men’s locker rooms.

“You sure? Heard this year’s party is supposed to be a banger.” he bribes, the mole under his bottom lip showing as he smiles.

“Min Yoongi is a close friend. I am invited to his parties every year. Now, I have to go—”

“No way?!” he exclaims, the permed dark curls over his eyes bouncing as he places a large hand on your shoulder. You shrug it off, but he acts like he did nothing wrong at all. “How come I haven’t seen you before? I’d totally recognize you. You’re smokin', by the way.”

Your lips and nose cringe at his statement.

“I don’t usually go,” you explain. “Now, please move before I push you out of my way myself.”

“Hah!” he laughs. “Like you could. Hey, are you an elementary teacher or just a shitty artist?”

“I’m not answering that,” you say.

His comment hurts you. This is precious art to you. The fact that he has no regard—didn’t even say sorry meaningfully—for your papers that you are obviously upset about makes your heart sink. All you can see are the faces of your students.

“Okay, well, that offer for a free drink, or clothes, or uh—oh yeah. The men’s locker room deal,” he winks. “Is still on the table.”

“I’ll pass,” you flash a tight-lipped smile his way before brushing a shoulder past him and exiting the library.

The first tear makes its way down your cheek, and you quickly wipe it off before anyone has the chance to see it. You think Jungkook might have through the window of the shop, but you assume he is looking at his order number he placed for a new coffee on the screen above it. It would appear more fitting. He clearly has no care in the world that he did something that made someone else upset. From his own actions. But are you really surprised that he wouldn’t care?

The rest of your walk to the elementary school is filled with blasting music in your headphones and a scowl on your face. What was once sadness is now anger. You’re angry. So fucking angry. Your blood is boiling.

“How could he?” you exclaim as you barge into the teacher’s lounge.

“Woah—” Aecha observes. “Is this a new print or something?” she asks, referring to your white-brown shirt and pants. “Please don’t tell me this is a new ‘thing’? No offense, but it’s kind of ug—”

“No, it’s that stupid Jungkook-jock-fuckboy-asshole-bitch—”

You silently thank an existing god that the kids have off today.

“Jeon Jungkook?” Aecha’s jaw drops.

“Don’t even start. I hate that man. Look what he did,” you seethe, slapping your student’s projects on the table.

“Awww,” Aecha’s eyes go beady, her fingers delicately shifting through the precious artwork. “Did he ruin them?”

“Yes,” you fight the urge to swipe all the shit on the coffee bar onto the floor. “Yes, he did. And now I have to give these back to the kids, hoping that when they’re 15 years older they can actually make out what it's saying.”

“I’m sorry,” she pouts. “That’s really shitty. Did he apologize?” she asks, sorting through the damp papers. “They don’t look too distraught. I can still read them,” she assures you.

“He apologized as the third phrase he said to me. The first was an ‘Oohh!’ accompanied by a mocking laugh and then a ‘jeez!’ Didn’t even realize I didn’t care about my damn shirt until he pointed out how ‘shitty my artwork was’.”

“Wow,” she gapes. “That’s totally Jungkook, that’s for sure,” she nods in agreement, thinking upwards. “You know, now that I’m imagining the scenario, it’s kinda hot.”

“Aecha!”

“Okay listen,”

“No, I won’t.”

“Okay, fine,” she gives up. You dig underneath the coffee cabinet, pulling out a spare hairdryer and plugging it into the wall. Your school is filled with mostly women teachers, so finding something like this in a coffee room is not that unordinary here. The room is soon loud with the sound of the machine as your try to dry them completely. “You going to Yoongi’s party, by the way?” she asks you.

You remember Jungkook’s offer to invite you to said party. You scoff at the memory. What was once a plan to tell Yoongi that you were, in fact, going to attend...is now a “no” from you. Not when you know Jungkook will be there. He is always there, just too drunk to remember you, probably. He even danced with you a few times, grinding on your ass with a beer in his hand and his other on your waist.

You remember it all too well. That was back when you had positive thoughts about the man. But then he became the captain of the lacrosse team. And then he became obsessed with the amount of “get out of jail free” cards he suddenly obtained from his popularity, hotness, and good standing on the school board. When you heard about what he was like from Aecha, your friends, the school news, YouTube, etc., you stopped finding him fancy. You couldn’t see the same man you saw that night. Especially not with how he treated you just an hour ago. Sad, but you washed away any hint of a crush you might've had on him after then.

“No, not anymore,” you reply, loudly speaking over the blow dryer. It is loud enough to where you don’t need to yell, but you wouldn’t be able to hear her response if you both talked normally.

“What?!” she drops her shoulders in disappointment. “But Hoseok is going to be there…you told me you’d go with me if he was!”

You know Aecha has been chasing after Hoseok since she first talked with him at last year's party. She doesn’t know anyone else who is going besides Yoongi and Hoseok. Being they’re both men, she doesn’t know if she feels 100% comfortable going alone, even though you and her both know they would never dare to hurt her or make her feel unsafe. It is more of a girl code—arriving and leaving together—than it is anything else. So you understand.

You had forgotten about said agreement, and you groan in frustration. Now, you have no other choice.

“Y/n, I need to bag this man. I need to,” her voice is laced with determination. “I am like—I am tired of waiting and this is my one last chance and—”

“Okay!” you hush her. “Fine, I’ll go.

She claps her hands and does a happy dance. You wish you could find her reaction endearing, but now you’re dreading the upcoming events of this party.

----

The week is going by fine until you get unexpected amounts of bouquets and Edible Arrangements all addressed to you from…Jungkook. You send them all back, just to get an angered Jungkook storming into your office a few days later.

“You know how expensive those were?!” he half-shouts at you. He quiets his voice, noticing the quiet setting he is in. However, he doesn’t seem to care that he has intruded on your space during your work time. He closes the door to your office anyways, trapping you in it with him.

“How did you get this address…and how do you know I work here?” you interrogate, going back to typing on your computer. The things you type are a mix of keyboard slam and words you’re thinking, faking work at its finest because some abnormally hot jock-asshole needs to make it known that his gifts are not to be returned.

“Min Yoongi is a man of many talents,” he responds. Taking a seat in one of the chairs across from your desk, you watch him as he plays with your nameplate on your desk. “Ms. Y/n L/n. Cute.”

You snatch the gold engraved tag out of his hands and place it back on the desk where it was before. “Please don’t touch my thi—”

“So, you are a teacher, then, I suppose?” he interrupts you. You don’t know it, but Jungkook is really trying here. It took a lot and nothing at all for him to walk in here. Truthfully, he has no idea how to apologize to you. A simple, sincere, “sorry” would probably do it. But he even practiced it in the mirror. Literally impossible. It’s like his mouth was forbidden to say the word without gagging at himself.

Apologizing was never his strong suit. Before coming to college, he was a good boy. Sweet and kind, never once a popular kid until he hit puberty and was suddenly his high school’s prom king. That’s when he started doing things he is not that proud of. It became a habit, but the good boy in him has a hard time practicing apologizing. Mainly because... he never really had to do it before becoming a total high school popular kid and a university super-star player.

But he really fucked up this time. And, he was hoping you would just let it go like people always seem to do when he can’t admit things correctly. But after seeing that tear fall down your face after you left the shop, that clench in his heart followed as you walked away. He couldn't stop thinking about how bad he felt all week. Those really meant something to you and he knew it. He just didn’t know how to admit he was being an asshole.

“I am,” you reply. “You here for some lessons?”

“Stop,” he grins. “Teacher—student sex has always been a fantasy of mine.”

“Please,” you scoff at him. The audacity. “As if I’d fulfill that for you.”

“A man can only dream,” he shrugs.

“Yeah, well keep doing that. What do you want, Jungkook?”

“I want to know why you sent back my flowers. And my Edible Arrangement! I was fighting the urge not to just eat it when I picked it out for you.”

Truthfully, you were too. You love Edible Arrangements.

“Because I don’t want your sympathy because you realized you were an asshole,”

“Why not?”

“Because none of that matters to me. I’m not an ex-girlfriend who caught you cheating on me. I’m just a stranger you met last week. I want an apology. An honest apology from you. And that’s it.” you explain.

Jungkook puffs his cheeks out.

“You’re difficult,” he raises his eyebrows. “I like that,” he smirks at you.

“I don’t have time for your flirting, Jungkook,” you roll your eyes at him, focusing back on your screen. “Please go home.”

The next time he comes in is around 3pm the following day. The kids are out of school by then, but all your coworkers are still here. So is Jungkook, apparently. Aecha tells you he’s been talking it up with the principal since he got here.

You groan, hoping he is just here to speak with the principal and not you. It is a farfetched hope, though. You don’t know what business he has with the principal, or anyone else here besides you, for that matter.

It is around 5 when he barges into your office again. You’re packing up your things, dreams crushed when you thought you could exit work without running into the alleged lacrosse star.

“Hey, sexy,” he flirts, eyeing your flowy, loose, figure-hiding, ugly, dark-brown art dress. You roll your eyes again, knowing he’s making fun of you. It was art day, and you had to wear your paint-stained art-apron dress. It’s the only one you don’t care about other than the shirt he ruined just a week ago.

You ignore his comment, zipping your bag and slinging it over your shoulder.

“Reconsidering tutoring?” you mock. Jungkook laughs at you, trying to hide the blush on his cheeks. You’re really cute when you mock him. It kinda gets him going.

“How’s about 9:00pm next Saturday at Min Yoongi’s?” he asks, trying to get you to go to the party again. Little does he know that you’re going. But you don’t want to amuse him too much.

“Funny,” you banter, making your way to the door. But he blocks your path, his arms resting against the door frame as he stares down at you with those white teeth and bunny eyes. You want to squish his cheek between your forefinger and thumb for reasons you don’t understand. All he has done is make fun of, flirt, and annoy you since you two met. Why do you feel the heat in your cheeks when he slips a finger underneath your chin, dark eyes staring into your soul? Why does your heartbeat in your throat when you look at the glossiness of his lips so close to your own?

You back away, releasing yourself from his flirtatious actions.

“What if I begged on my knees?” he blurts out.

You snort out in laughter at that. The thought of Jungkook: the tall, big guy with tattoos and an award-winning lacrosse scholarship? On his knees in front of you? Begging you to go to some party? That’s rich.

Jungkook blushes harder at your laughs. Fuck, your laugh is so cute. He wants to make you laugh like this a lot. Maybe forever, even. You’re music to his ears.

“What’s so funny?” he chuckles with you. “Think I can’t?”

“Please,” you smile wide, a hand covering your mouth, trying not to muster up any more laughs. “That would be too much. You sure you want to pleasure me?”

Jungkook’s mouth grows dry. Um…yes?? He would, in fact, like to pleasure you. Maybe not in that way, but he’d do it if it meant you were pleased with him. Fuck! If only he could admit things properly.

“Um, no, never mind” he goes against his wish. “I don’t think I could stand the content look on your face.” He totally could??? What the hell is he saying?!?

Jungkook runs a hand through his thick, brown locks, looking at you as you die down your laughter. If only you knew he’s been after you since two New Year’s parties ago. You think he doesn’t remember, but he totally does. The way your hips swayed against his, pressing your ass into his front. He remembers how soft your skin felt underneath his tattooed hand. All he remembered is how he wanted to mark you up, kiss the skin of your lips, neck, and shoulders and claim it as his own. But he had one too many drinks that night, and he found himself passed out on Min Yoongi’s couch the next morning. Jungkook started off the New Year with his clothes on, cheeks flushed, a terrible hangover, and no sight of you anywhere.

He had been trying to find you for a while on campus, but little did he know you were all the way on the opposite side of it in the Education sector. When you didn’t show up to Yoongi’s New Year’s Party the following year, he realized he may never see you again. Until he ruined your clothes. And your valuables. And your heart. And god-knows-what else. If only apologizing didn’t completely break his fragile ego, maybe he would be kissing you right now. Maybe he could have been spending all his time kissing you and holding you every day since the incident.

“Whatever you say, fuckboy,” you smile at him. “Now let me go — and stop coming into my office. It’s annoying.”

“Principle Green is actually so rad, though. I might come back just for him,” he comments, moving out of your way.

“I don’t care who is rad, I don’t want you interrupting my work.”

“Oh, so I’m a distraction?”

“No, you’re a nuisance,”

“Ouch,”

“Goodbye, Jungkook,” you flash him a grin, turning off the lights in your office. You look at Aecha in the teacher's lounge where you exit. She is completely baffled, eyes wide, her mouth dropped, and her bagel falling out of her hands and onto the table. Cream-cheese side down. She heard everything, and you know what she’s thinking.

Luckily, you can leave without either of them making conversation with you.

Entering your car, you let out a huge breath you didn’t know you’d been holding in. You look at yourself in your sun blocker's mirror. Cheeks red and lips cracked from all the laughing, you’re a total mess! As if your crush on Jungkook is coming back. It can’t be. He’s a total asshole now.

But a charming asshole.

Fuck! Stop it, y/n. You can’t do this to yourself.

And so, you don’t. You blast your music and drive away, pretending you don’t see a waving, smiling Jungkook from the school’s entrance in your rearview mirror.

----

Three knocks on your door and an uninvited Jungkook makes his way into your office. Again.

Jeon Jungkook.

The name makes you hurl a little in your mouth. Yesterday’s lunch makes its way to the back of your throat. But you swallow it down, telling yourself to be strong and that he will go away soon.

Last night, after Jungkook’s daily visit to your office (one that ended up with a 3-hour conversation about how Thor is the best Avenger next to Spider-Man), you realized that it’s been almost two weeks since you met him in the coffee shop. Almost two weeks and you have yet to receive a proper apology like you had asked him to give you the first time he visited you at work.

This is the 7th visit since two weeks ago, and still no apology. Despite his charm and how easily you were almost tricked into letting it all go, you remembered you were still supposed to be mad at him. And that you should still be mad at him no matter how many bunny-smiles, flirtatious comments, and talks about the Avengers and Principle Green that shoots straight to your heart. And to other places…

“So,” he banters a smile at you. That stupid yellow and blue lacrosse bomber jacket puffs out around his shoulders, the number “07” poking out in the ugliest school-spirit font you’ve ever seen on his sleeves. His elbows rest on your desk, arms delicately pushing some of your papers and trinkets out of his way. The action only fuels your anger.

“7 o’clock. You and me. Chipotle.”

You think this might be the 5th time since Sunday he’s asked you out on a date. And it’s only Wednesday.

“Woah, why the ‘tude?” he defends, putting his palms up as he slides back into his “designated” chair in your office.

“There is no ‘tude.”

“There totally is ‘tude!”

You glare at him from over your laptop screen. "See!” he points at your scowl.

“Jungkook, get out please,” you sigh. You really don’t want to deal with his antics today.

“What? Why?” he asks you. His voice is defensive like you just told him his dick is short and thin. Which, it totally is not by the way. He’d tell you about it, but it doesn’t appear like you’re up for that conversation.

“Because, Jungkook, I’m done with this.”

“With what?" he scoffs. "We’re not even a ‘this’,” he says the last part with finger air quotes.

“Exactly, so please stop visiting me. I don’t want your distractions to make me forget about the fact that you still haven’t apologized.”

“Oh, please, y/n,” he drags out a laugh, slouching on your chair. “I don’t even need to apologize. They were just some shitty drawings. I can assure you that if you go back into that classroom and call an ‘art sesh’ they’d make up a bunch of equally as shitty pieces for you.”

You can feel your fingers nearly breaking the screen of your laptop before shutting it close. You stand up in your seat, motioning your finger toward the door. “Get out.”

Jungkook knows he stepped over the line with that one. He really doesn’t know what the hell he’s saying. He knows those meant something to you! Why is he acting like he doesn’t? Why does he choose to say words that hurt you? It only hurts him, knowing that even though he wants so badly to be the person that comforts you and who tells you you’re okay; saying the opposite is only going to make it worse.

Duh!

Right now, he wants to beat himself up so badly that he’s lost the ability to speak another word.

That clenching feeling he has in his chest is back. He can see the anger in your heart, reaching out to protect the innocence of your students. It’s endearing, really. But he’s in the crossfire. And he’s on the side of your wrath he doesn’t want to be on. He’s the reason you’re protecting your students in their absence. He is the reason why you might never forgive him for this one.

“Y/n, I,” he stutters, standing up. He really thinks he’s about to apologize until something within himself blocks him from doing so again. His heart wants to say it, but his egotistical brain isn’t allowing him. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Then what did you mean it as?” you ask him. Hands running through your hair, you laugh at yourself in disbelief. “You know, I don’t even know why I’m asking you that. I don’t even know why I expect anything from you at all. All you’ve been doing since you got your damn scholarship and your damn popularity has been treating others like how you are treating me right now. Like their feelings don’t matter, like no one else exists in this world besides Jeon Jungkook. Maybe if you had a project like the one I assigned to my students, then maybe you’d have a reason to look back on what it means to be kind to others. Maybe you’d realize that people get hurt because of people like you. Me included. So please, leave my office and don’t show your face in this school ever again.”

Jungkook is at a loss for words. What can he say? You called his bluff. He taught himself how to block out others as a defense mechanism a long time ago. Its consequence: confidence as a new defense mechanism. Confidence is always good, right? So why it felt wrong when he started showing that side of him 100% more than it was before was beyond him. And, well, this is why it felt so wrong. He's lost the ability to humble himself down. And he hurt you because of it. He’s hurt a lot of people because of it. If only he knew how to balance himself properly.

Jungkook leaves your office, not batting an eye at you, feeling like a student who just got expelled. The jock in him would say it was hot, but that part of him is not there. Nothing but shame fills his body. He feels ashamed of himself. Especially as he catches light of one of the coffee-stained projects on the lounge-room walls.

[I love my _______ because it makes me feel ________] is the prompt. This one had the most outrageous spelling he thinks he’s ever seen. Backward “e”’s and random capitalization and sizing and all. But he makes out “heart’ and “wanted”.

Something in him pulls on his heartstrings again. He can see why those projects meant so much to you. Just that one simple response was enough to feel regret all the way from the follicles of his scalp to his big toe, as if he didn’t regret it already. How is he going to make it up to you? He has no idea. But he can’t lose sight of you, even when he knows he's pissed you off and hurt you. He has to find a way to make it right.

He has to apologize. Sincerely. Like he’s been practicing in the mirror and with his roommates, Taehyung and Jin, for the past two weeks. It’s easier with them. They don’t make his heart beat abnormally fast. They don’t send smiles (other than teasing, antagonizing ones that make him feel embarrassed and give up) that make him want to kiss you until you’re breathless beneath him.

But he needs to. And it needs to happen soon.

----

“So,” you smile at Aecha across your kitchen counter. She’s wearing the skimpiest hot pink dress you have ever seen. No doubt trying to be a tease for Hoseok. No one would guess she’s a preschool teacher with the way she’s dressed. “What’s the plan?”

She turns around, pinning the last bobby pin in her stiff, hair-sprayed-bobby pinned high bun.

“Okay,” she smiles. “We go in, right? Then I see Hoseok. Then we dance. Then we kiss. Then we f—”

“Okay!” you stop her, laughing. “I get it. Go in, dance, fuck. What do I do?”

“Hmmm,” she thinks. “Drink?? Get high? Maybe mock my actions on a certain captain of the lacrosse team…?”

You give her a knowing look.

“I know!” she puts her hands up. “Was just a thought.”

A great thought, at that. You’ve been wanting to jump his bones since three New Year's parties ago. But you’ve long accepted that’s no longer on your agenda. Jungkook has proven to you that he is a lost cause. You can’t expect anything from him, no matter how charming his smile is, no matter how well he dances, or how his touch makes butterflies flow through every vein in your body.

You have to put him in the back of your mind and move on. Maybe tonight you can find someone to do that with.

“You know that guy from Bread Club?” you ask her, fingers pinching the skin between your eyebrows in thought.

“Which one? That club was full of male nerd—oh! The hot one? Park Jimin?” she recalls.

“Yes!” you exclaim. “Him! Do you know if he is coming?”

“Oooooo,” she coos at you. “Does y/n see a potential crush on bread-boy Jimin?”

“Not a crush. Although, he is really handsome.” you blush. “I just never gave him a proper chance.”

“You’re right. I did suspect an underlying mutual attraction. My guess would be that he is going. I’m pretty sure he’s with that whole group. If I’m not mistaken, I want to say he’s Taehyung’s brother. Tae rooms with Jungkook and Jin.”

“Ah,” you nod, understanding the explanation. Although, all you hear is Jungkook. You hate that even his name in a conversation not even about him puts a sad feeling in your heart. You really do pity him. You also really want to forgive him. But after what he said back in your office, you don’t think you have the means to. His words hurt. They always do. But, he doesn’t know how to apologize. At least not to you. You remember how Aecha was surprised when you explained the situation and told her that he still hasn’t apologized since the incident. It made you wonder if you were the only person he refuses to apologize to.

“Okay, I’m ready. We both look hot. Let’s go,” Aecha says, matter-of-fact. She slaps her pocket mirror closed and shoves it into her purse.

----

You arrive at the sickest party Min Yoongi has ever hosted. Jungkook was right, this year’s party is a banger. Endless drinks, endless space for dancing, endless games, and endless men…boy you have many options tonight.

Aecha claps your shoulder in excitement, telling you that she sees her prey. You understand, letting her make her progress towards bagging Hoseok.

You continue smiling until your eyes land on Jungkook’s. He’s at the beer pong table, a beer in one hand and a pong in the other, ready to throw his next shot. Although, his progress towards throwing it stops when he sees you.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to keep looking at him. Dressed in all black with silver accents accompanying his wrists, ears, eyebrows, and lips. One could say he completely complemented your own outfit.

The fact only makes your heart hurt more. Why? You don’t know. You dropped him. He’s done. Wasn’t even a crush for longer than a day three years ago. Why you’re so hung up on him, you don’t know. The realization has you tearing your eyes away from his man-bun that looks too perfect framing his face, and onto the drinks in the room next to you.

You grab a shot or two. Or three. Or four. But who’s counting? It’s New Year’s Eve, you’re single, have nothing to lose, and have strange feelings toward a man you want to forget. Tonight is the night to get so wasted that you end up achieving that goal.

You think you will be successful when a familiar voice calls your name. Turning around, your eyes meet with Park Jimin’s. The bread-boy. Just the man you wanted to see tonight.

“Jimin!” you hug him. “No way! How long has it been since we baked banana nut bread together?!”

Jimin laughs out loud, hugging you back. “About a year, I’d say,” he smiles. His smile is really cute, reaching from cheek to cheek with that insanely addicting voice of liquid he uses to coat his words. “You’re looking really good tonight, Y/n.” Maybe he will be your saving grace tonight, after all.

“Thanks,” you smile. “You’re not looking too bad yourself.”

“Glad to know you’re pleased.”

“I am,” you smirk. “Somewhat.”

“Oh?” he raises an eyebrow.

“Come,” you change the subject. For some reason, flirting with Jimin feels wrong. Even though you want parts of him, even though you want to be able to flirt with him, something about it just doesn’t feel right. Maybe it’s the intense eyes you feel at the back of your head when you dance on Jimin in the middle of the dance floor. Maybe it’s when you kiss Jimin that you feel as if you’re imagining it’s Jungkook who you’re pressing your lips to.

It’s all wrong. Everything is wrong.

But Jimin touches you like it is right, and you feel somewhat assured until an extra hand is pulling you away from him. Suddenly, you’re drunken vision sees Jimin standing on the dance floor moving farther and farther away from you as this mystery person takes you away from him. Stumbling to keep up with this person’s pace, you turn around and attempt to pry off the strong arm that wraps around your wrist.

“Wha-What do you—who are you?” you ask this person. It isn’t until you realize that the person’s arm is tattooed. It isn’t until you realize that these tattoos are familiar and that they belong to Jeon Jungkook. “Jungkook, let go!”

To which he does, but only when he’s pulled you out of the house and into the alleyway between another house and Yoongi’s. Jungkook pins you against the wall, his forearms pressing against the brick next to your ears.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he demands, voice low and eyes foreboding. Those eyes you’ve never seen before. They’re dark and angry; far, far away from his playful innocent-looking ones. They scare you a little. But you’ve always been good at facing your fears.

“I’m having fun,” you respond, not a smidge of the jitters you're feeling consuming your voice. “What are you doing?”

“Making sure you don’t make any mistakes,” he responds.

“Hah!” you laugh, the alcohol causing you to tilt your head back harshly. You forget there’s brick there, and you’re thankful Jungkook’s reflexes are fast enough to slide his hand beneath your head before it smacked against the brick. “You’re so funny, Kook. You know, that’s actually a good idea. Because the last time I danced on someone like that was with you. And I really regret that.”

Jungkook’s heart pangs in his chest, showing how your words affected him so by closing in on you. His face towers over yours, even though he’s been trying to keep his height as level with you as he can by bending his body at his hips to match your own height. But the closer he gets, the taller he becomes, and the more you have to look up in order to look into his eyes.

You can smell the cologne on his body along with the faint smell of booze on his breath. You hate how his scent makes you fawn over him. All you want to do is kiss him silly. But you’re still mad at him. You're still arguing with him right now.

“You don’t,” he scowls, more so at himself for letting it get this far. The sight of Jimin holding you like that when it was supposed to be him made his blood boil. Fury grew in his veins as he realized he needed to make this right. Right now. Before it’s too late and you’re truly moving on.

“And what if I do, Jungkook?” you lower your voice, words feeling heavy on your mouth. “What if I regret letting my feelings continuously be hurt by you?”

“And what if I told you that I regret it,” he holds your chin in his fingers. “Saying those things to you. I do, y/n. I regret it, and I don’t know why I kept saying those things. And I-I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. It was never my intention to hurt you.”

You pause at his apology. Are you hearing this right? Did Jeon Jungkook just apologize to you? Twice??

“W-Well,” you stutter. Tears start to brim your eyes again for reasons you don’t understand. Maybe because you’re a crybaby. Maybe because this was your reason for not chasing after the man you liked so much. Maybe because his apology gives you the ‘go’ for smashing your lips onto his, feeling his honey lips collide with yours.

They’re just as soft as you imagined they would be. And god, is he a good kisser. His lips alone make a pool in your panties. Your hands slide around his neck, fingertips intertwining in his tied-up locks.

Jungkook’s body nearly stutters when you kiss him. Out of all things, this was the last he expected. Maybe a well-deserved slap or a kick on the shin, but never the feeling of your embrace.

Nevertheless, he doesn’t complain one bit. He’s been dying to feel you. Your lips on his was an imagery he thought he would never have the chance to live out. But, here you are, holding his body close and kissing him like he is the last person you will ever have the chance to kiss in your life.

Desperation crawls into his veins, lifting you up around his waist, and pressing you against the wall.

He’s been craving this for far too long. Craving you for too long. Jungkook can’t stop touching you, your body is just as soft as he remembered. His curiosity begs him to explore more and more of you. But he’s done enough without your permission. So he waits, continuing to kiss you until you take control.

“I’ve been dying to have you like this,” you say between trailing kisses down to his neck. Jungkook moans as you find his sweet spot, and you think it was the prettiest thing you have ever heard in your lifetime. Sucking on the spot, he raises his chest, trying to control his pleasure but nonetheless fails when you bite down on him.

“Y-Y/n,” he calls out your name, just loud enough for you to hear. His breath tickles your name on the shell of your ear, and you think you might have gushed arousal out of your cunt. “Not here,” he pants, trapping your chin between his fingers again. He motions your jaw up to his, tempting himself with light scrapes of his lips touching yours. “I don’t want anyone else to see you.”

“Then where?” you whisper back at him. It is so hard not to smash your lips onto his again, but you want this to continue. And if Jungkook wants you where no one but himself can see you, then you’re bound to be wherever that is.

“My place,” he brushes his nose against your cheek before returning your trail of kisses on his neck back to yours. “No one’s home. I brought a car.” He sucks your neck, leaving bruises all over. He's determined to find not just one sweet spot of yours, but to find them all.

“Wh-Why not the car?” you ask between moans. Jungkook is so good at this. He’s suede and smooth with his touches, hot and passionate with his kisses. He knows how to make you puddy in his hands.

Jungkook chuckles in your ear. “Not with the things I want to do to you,” he bites down on your neck, eliciting a sweet panted moan from your throat. “That won’t work.”

“Then let’s go,” you hold his neck firmly in your palms, stopping him from his parade of kisses. “I don’t want to waste more time.”

“Someone’s eager,” Jungkook smirks, kissing you once before setting you down and taking his keys out of his pocket.

“You have no idea.”

----

The ride over to Jungkook’s is spent palming him in the driver’s seat and Jungkook struggling to focus on the road. He’s not as consumed with alcohol as you might be, even though the effects of it on you stopped midway through making out with Jungkook back at Yoongi’s.

You know you’re doomed when the car abruptly stops. His fist pushes the stick into park, and he rips open the car door, walking around the front of it to come over to you.

You’re still tipsy, however. So, when you’re met with Jungkook’s erection right in your face you can’t help but laugh a little.

“What’s so funny?” he asks you, a little pissed off at your laughter. It’s hot.

Trailing a finger on the zipper to his black jeans, you outline the length of his cock slowly, admiring its size right in front of you. You dream of it fucking you, as if the man in front of you wasn’t on a mission to check that off your list right now.

“You’re so big,” you sigh like a teenage girl. “I want you inside of me, Jungkook,” you smirk, looking up at him from the passenger seat. Jungkook swears his heart leaps out of his chest. He thinks his voice might crack if he says another word, so he clears his throat, dick twitching simultaneously, before he responds.

“Then, c’mon,” he takes your hand, pulling you up and out of the car. “We’re here.” Jungkook smiles at you sweetly. He almost thinks that he should just wait until the morning to fuck you because of your tipsy-drunk moment until you’re kissing and palming him again. Jungkook moans into your mouth, stumbling with you toward his townhome’s entrance. Key fob in hand, Jungkook presses it underneath the door nob, hearing a sound of approval from the security system not long after.

“Teasing me in the car,” he growls against your ear, pushing you against the nearest wall once the door to his home shuts. “You think you weren’t going to get punished for that?”

All you can do is moan. Jungkook’s hands waste no time ripping off every piece of clothing you have on, dying to see you in all your glory.

“Holy fuck,” he pants. It’s almost as if he’s cumming his pants right now at the sight of you. “You’re gorgeous, Y/n,”

You can’t help but blush a little, his glare on you makes you think that he’s not actually saying these things about your body. Not this man. Not the ripped, 6-packed athlete with incredible strength and muscles that could pop you with one headlock around the neck. Maybe it's the booze.

“Take your clothes off, fuckboy,” you demand.

Jungkook shimmies off his black blazer, eyes still on your tits. He wants to suck them and leave marks all over the softness of them. He wants you to be completely covered in him tomorrow morning.

“Don’t call me that,” he walks closer to you, trapping your naked body between his half-clothed one. “I’m not a fuckboy.” he replies, taking off his mock-turtle neck tanktop. You thought it was tight enough on him before, but the sight of his muscles underneath the shirt makes you realize that the shirt did not do him enough justice. Never in a million years did you think Jungkook was this ripped. He basically has boobs. He could probably fit into your bra…

“Then what are you?” you ghost against his lips.

He would like to say “yours”, but he remembers that you’re still tipsy. Would you agree to that? Do you still hate him? He'd like to think 'no' considering how you two are both eager to have each other right now, but he's got a lot of things to ask and make up to you before any titles are made. So he holds off.

“We can decide that in the morning,” he settles on, flashing you a small smile before delving into your lips. His chest is firm against yours, his back so wide, you struggle to wrap your arms around it as he leads you to what you assume is his bedroom.

His room is just as you expected it would be. Covered in trophies and pictures, as neat and organized as you expected. But what really catches you off guard is how comfortable his bed is. The smell of him engulfs you as he gently places you on his bed. You think about how this night would be if you decided to fuck in the car. How you wouldn't be able to see this view on top of you so clearly if you did. You’re thankful Jungkook insisted on his bedroom. Now, you can see his handsome face clearly in the lighting of his room as he pulls his pants down to his ankles, leaving himself in a pair of white Calvins. They do nothing to hide the length and girth of his cock, and you shutter knowing that he’s going to completely rip you open.

“Don’t worry, I’ll prep you,” he whispers in your ear, sensing your worry. Jungkook’s lips find your neck again, gently kissing his previously left bruises before leaving more of them on the areas of your clavicle and chest.

“What if I don’t want to be prepped?” you whimper, back arching into his chest when his mouth engulfs your nipple, sucking on it hard. “W-What if I want you ri-right now?”

Jungkook laughs deeply as he twirls your nipple around with his tongue. He releases you with a quick “pop”, which makes your head fall back in pleasure. You can feel Jungkook’s body moving up to come face-to-face with yours. “Patience,” he gives you a quick kiss. “I refuse to hurt you any more than I have already.”

“Jungkook,” you coo, holding his jaw in your palm. He looks ashamed of himself. You’ve never seen this side of him, and it feels good knowing that he does harbor those kinds of feelings. Especially since he is comfortable with you seeing him display them. “I forgive you, Kook.”

“You shouldn’t,” he buries his face in your neck again, kissing you lightly as his hand trails down to your wet cunt. His fingers find your clit. You moan when he starts circling slow infinities on the sensitive bud.

“But I do, Jungkook,” you pant, hand coming up to drag your fingers through his hair. You pull out his bun, watching as his hair falls over the crown of his head and onto your skin. It smells like coconut, and you can’t help but bury your nose in it as he continues to gather your juices on his fingertips.

“I was bad to you,” he grumbles against your neck. This time, his fingers circle your entrance. Legs wrapping around his hips, you invite his fingers inside, to which he obliges. Just his index finger feels you first. Jungkook ruts against the mattress at the feeling, imagining the walls that squeeze his finger tight around his cock. Yeah, you definitely need prepping.

“But, you apologized,” you whisper to him, massaging his scalp. Your hips twitch when he adds another finger. You can’t imagine the size of him in you like this. Two of his massive fingers are enough to make you feel close to cumming around them. He’s going to be the death of you.

Pumping in and out of you, Jungkook moves his head to face yours, his nose kissing your own.

“I’m sorry,” he says once again. “I’m sorry for spilling coffee on you, and being an asshole, and making fun of your student’s art, and showing up at your work, and pissing you off, and making you hate me so much you—”

“J-Jungkook,” you stop him. It’s hard to concentrate on a response when his pace quickens with every mention of something he did wrong, as if he was getting angrier the more he realized how much he did to hurt you.

“All I wanted to do was the opposite of what I did,” he kisses your cheek. “B-But it’s hard for me to face negativity without being cocky and stupid about it. I thought that by making it worse, I could make it better.”

“What a strange tactic,” you chuckle against his cheek. Your heart thumps when he flashes you a smile, telling you with his eyes that he’d never do something like that to you ever again. “I’m proud of you.” You smile.

“S-Stop,” Jungkook adds his thumb to your clit as his fingers continue to fuck you slowly. The addition causes you to arch your back into him. Jungkook takes the opportunity to wrap his arm underneath your spine, holding you secure against his body. “You’re going to make me want to claim you if you say that kind of shit to me.”

“What if I want you to claim me?” you challenge.

Jungkook nearly growls into your neck, fighting the urge to just flip you over and ravage you. “Stop doing that to me, y/n,”

He feels your fingers start to tug at the rim of his boxers, and Jungkook can’t be any more excited to feel you around him. He presses one more finger into you before allowing you to shove his boxers halfway down his thighs.

Jungkook moans at the feeling of your soft fingers around his cock, head falling into the crevice of your neck again. His dick is red and angry and begging to fuck you hard and deep. You swirl the precum that leaks from him and circle it around his cockhead, eliciting a strained moan into the skin by your ear from the man above you. His hips jerk at the sudden movement, preparing themselves to fuck you hard and fast.

“I think I’m ready, Kook,” you whisper into his hair.

Jungkook detaches himself from your neck, standing up to quickly knock off his boxers onto the floor. He takes your calves in his hands, spreading you before his fingertips spread your pussy open slowly. Jungkook takes a long look at you. You're basically drooling from your cunt, the slick creating shiny lines off his fingers as he moves them up and off your pussy. Glistening and pulsing for him to fill you up, he knows you’re going to be a tight fit. The fact only excites him further.

He pulls himself onto the bed, pushing your thighs up with his body. Pumping his cock a few times, he lines you up with his dick, pressing his cockhead against your slick.

“You sure you want this?” he leans down to your face. Your thighs are trapped against your torso, Jungkook folding you up for him nice and good. You appreciate that he doesn’t do a thing without your consent, that he doesn’t dare to do anything unless you’re comfortable. A complete 180 from the emotionally constipated Jungkook you’ve been experiencing for the past two weeks.

You nod to him, looking into his eyes. But this doesn’t satisfy him.

“I need a verbal answer, y/n,” he kisses your cheek, dick rubbing up and down your warm entrance.

“Yes, Jungkook. I want you,” you lean into his cheek.

The feeling of his girth stretching you open is enough for you to dig your nails into the smooth skin of his back. Never in a million years did you think you’d be stretched this good.

He doesn’t go in all the way, letting you adjust to his girth before slipping his length all the way into you.

You swear his tip kisses your cervix. When he pulls out and slams back into you, you can confirm that he did, in fact, kiss it. Jungkook moans against you, gripping your hands in his own and pinning them above your head. His hips are strong, slamming into you with everything he has left in him. You’re a goddess below him, legs around his shoulders, fingers digging into the upper side of his palm, tears streaming down your cheeks as you feel all he is giving you.

“F-Faster,” you beg. Jungkook is happy to obey.

He takes your hips and flips you over, his hands pressing against the upper of your back, pushing your chest down into his sheets. Once satisfied, Jungkook firmly grabs your hips and pistons into you faster, just like you wanted. You’re a moaning mess beneath him, fingers gripping the sheets, legs twitching in resistance as he fucks into you like a madman. His nose is crunched, lip bleeding between his teeth as he tries to hold back his orgasm. Usually, he never feels ready to release this early. But, you’re the girl he’s always wanted. And now you’re in his bed, begging him to fuck you without prepping you and go faster and claim you, and—god, it's all too perfect. You’re too perfect.

Your moans are like honey in his ears, the sweetest music he’s ever heard. He slaps your ass hard—once, twice, so many times. You scream to it all, each one pushing you over the edge.

“This is mine, you hear?” he growls from behind you, gripping your ass in his hand before slapping it again. “You hear me?” he asks again, gripping your hips tighter and forcibly slapping them against his own hips. The impact makes you gush around him, your high following his forcefulness in squirts of your release. You don’t see it, but Jungkook’s eyes roll to the back of his head at the sight. No way did you just squirt all over his cock. Can this night get any better?

Maybe it can, because he feels his own release closely following. But he edges himself, pulling out of you to look at the mess you made instead of chasing his high.

You’re so embarrassed, digging your face into your hands as you hear him press his hand into his sopping wet duvet cover.

“I-I’m so sorry,” you whimper. You refuse to meet his eyes, even when he flips you over and sits next to your face.

“C’mere,” he pats his lap.

“Jungkook,” you whine, absolutely mortified. Is he mad? You can’t tell. He hasn’t mentioned anything about your release.

“Baby, come here,” he speaks to you with honey laced in his voice. Your heart thumps at the fact that he called you “baby”. Were your dreams coming true?

You gather yourself and weakly climb onto his lap, immediately digging your face into his shoulder.

“Was that bad? You didn’t cum,” you ask him, voice trembling into his neck. God, this is so mortifying. “I won’t do it again, I pro—”

“Like fucking hell you won’t,” he holds your waist firmly again. “That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen y/n,” he bites your ear. “It’s taking everything in me not to be gentle with you right now.”

Your eyes meet his hungered ones. You were wrong, and you know it not only from him saying so but also from his pulsating cock below. It is twitching and leaking with so much precum, you almost think that it is his cum itself if it weren’t for the clearness of it. And then you realize that he’s edging himself.

“I-I want this to last longer, but I don’t want to hurt you cause I—” his head falls back in a strained moan when you press a finger to his tip, playing with the precum leaking down himself. “Cause I know I will if you don’t take control of me right now…so, ride me,” he demands.

You kiss his neck, feeling lighter that you made him feel strong enough to nearly lose his control just from your orgasm. With power in your hands, you lift your hips just enough to hover your pussy over his twitching cock, sliding down slowly.

Jungkook’s hands come to your hips again, completely out of breath. “H-Holy shit, y/n,” he gasps when he stares down at his dick disappearing and reappearing as you bounce on his cock. “God, you’re going to murder me, aren’t you?”

You laugh at his comment. Although, he’s far from laughing, focusing all his energy on controlling his orgasm. Face falling into your neck, he’s mumbling things you don’t understand as you massage his sweaty scalp again. He moans at your touch, feeling overly sensitive and extremely, beyond-belief, horny. He wants to cum so bad, but he also wants this to last.

“You can cum, Kook,” you whisper into his scalp. You don’t know if you have it in you to cum again. Squirting is so powerful, and it usually takes everything out of you. But you might, considering you have the strength to ride him to no tomorrow. “It’s okay.”

“N-No,” he breathes against your neck, panting. “Can’t. Want it to last.”

“Don’t worry,” you laugh against his cheek. “I don’t plan on making you a one-night, Jungkook.”

“A-Ah,” his hips twitch into you. “I-um, ffuccck, y/n!” he sways your hips back and forth on his cock rapidly. “Y-You sure? It’s going to be a lot.”

“Mhm,” you smile down at him.

“Fuck, o-okay,” he breathes out shakily. Jungkook then bucks his hips fast into yours from underneath you, unrelenting and ruthless. You feel his hot ropes fill you up just seconds later. For what feels like a full minute of him pumping his cum into you, his face resting against your breasts in fucked-out glory.

You two rest there, letting his cum pool at the connection of your bodies while you rest against each other. What finally breaks you out of your own daze is the sound of fireworks just outside Jungkook's bedroom window.

You can see the array of colors lighting up the sky, his digital clock on his nightstand reading 12:00am.

“Hey,” you whisper into his hair, kissing his sweaty scalp. “Happy New Year.”

Jungkook detaches his cheek from your chest, bringing his face up to graze his nose against yours. Smiling into your lips he whispers,

“I’m gonna make it right, y/n. This will be our year.”

---

[Bonus]

[Aecha]: Hope you got home okay.

[Aecha]: Ended up a little stuck between Hoseok’s thighs.

[Y/n]: Funny story.

[Y/n]: I never made it home last night.

[Aecha]: WHAT?!

[Aecha]: Are you okay??

[Y/n]: More than okay.

y/n sent an image

[Aecha]: No

[Aecha]: Fucking

[Aecha]: Way

[Aecha]: I—AKJDAKSJHFJKASFKLDJSAFKLJSFA!!! Y/N!!!!

[Y/n]: So like.

[Y/n]: I’m no longer a single lady?

[Aecha]: AHHHHHHHHH Y/N!!!!!

[Aecha]: JESUS DID HE LEAVE ANY INCH OF YOUR SKIN Y/S/C?!?

[Y/n]: We had a lot of…catching up to do lol.

[Aecha]: I’d say.

[Aecha]: I’m the maid of honor. Understand me?

[Y/n]: Lol. You got it.

[End. Do not copy. Original work of @jungkookstatts , 2023]

4K notes · View notes

gildedneon · 2 months ago

Text

That Which I Cannot See

That Which I Cannot See - Part 1 - Pure Imagination

Respectfully, you may not use my work, but you are welcome to share it. My work is only intended for those 18 and older as it contains explicit adult themes.

Summary: Basically A Star is Born but make it Sleep Token. A video of you singing Take Me Back to Eden gets attention online and you're invited to sing backup vocals at their next concert. Only, you end up doing a lot more than just that. The first in what will be at least a 3 part series.

Pairing: Vessel x Fem!Reader

Tags: Hand stuff (for now), mask play, concealed identity play, obscured vision/partial blindfolding, is this a musical now?, shower play with the lights off, monster kink? if you squint?, spiritual cult leader Vessel, dirty talk.

Word Count: 5.4k

A/N: I enjoy candlelit showers while blasting Sleep Token and inspiration struck one day while listening to Take Me Back to Eden. What if? So I wrote it. I have already planned out a part 2 & 3, so fear not, our journey has just begun.

Read on Ao3

-------------

So there I was, doom scrolling Instagram when *ping*

“Sleep_Token: We loved your video” My brows furrow. That can’t actually be their official account. Tapping the notification, I switch to my finsta, where I post anonymous videos of myself singing. I recently shared a clip of an acoustic cover of Take Me Back to Eden that got a decent amount of attention, but I didn’t think it got that much attention. The message thread opens just as another is coming in.

“Sleep_Token: How would you feel about joining us sometime?” What the hell?

I click their profile. Blue check mark. Holy shit. Shock has me so caught up I can’t even think of a clever response. Or any response for that matter.

What does ‘joining us' mean? Like for an orgy or going to a show? Because I’m down for both, but I only have tickets for one of those things. At least my brain is still cracking jokes. I stare at my phone and figure out something to say.

“Hi! Thanks! I actually will be at the show this Friday. I can’t wait :)” My heart does a little somersault as I hit send.

“Sleep_Token: Perfect. Our manager will reach out for details. Bring something black to wear. We’ve got the rest covered!”

What the fuck does that mean? Reaching out for details for what? What is ‘the rest’ and how is it ‘covered’???

*ping*

The DM from the manager comes in.

On auto-pilot, I go back and forth with the manager. Realization sets in… I’m going to be backstage at the Sleep Token show. I’m going to meet the Espera and sing with them. On stage. At the Sleep Token show. Friday. In less than a week. What the fuck.

Four days… I have four days to perfect my outfit. Immediately, I FaceTime my best friend. She answers on the second ring.

“Callie… you’re never gonna believe this.”

“Alright??… spill bitch”

-------------

My stride lengthens to keep up with the woman leading me through bright lit hallways. The week had flown by in a blur. Now it’s Friday and I’m being led backstage in sweats and a tank. I hadn’t fully wrapped my head around their invitation. But what I really hadn’t wrapped my head around was what had been developing since that night. Once I had gotten off the phone with Callie, I saw I had a DM request from a username I didn’t recognize.

“Hey it’s V” I think my brain had short circuited. It all felt like it came out of nowhere. I guess that’s the thing about change, it doesn’t happen until it just… does. We had started chatting and it continued throughout the week, getting to know each other a bit, what we enjoy, what we don’t, our favorite colors, and even a bit of flirting. Another strange development in a situation that materialized all too quickly. But it was exciting. It has been a while since I’ve been truly excited about something or …someone.

I think it helps that we don’t really know each other. Our identities are a secret. It’s sort of like getting to know the contents of a box without getting to know the box, if that makes sense. It’s hard to explain, but I like it. Being myself comes easier this way. There are less distractions.

My guide comes to a stop and knocks on a door. Anticipation grips me as it opens, a woman dressed in black greets us with a smile on her face.

“Come on in! We’re excited to meet you.” The Espera, or the three female background vocalists, usher me into the dressing room and to a spot in front of the mirror. Their welcoming energy helps quell my buzzing thoughts. We fall into easy conversation as I work on my hair and makeup. The dress I chose is sexy but functional. Thin straps, square neckline dipping in a quick plunge, finished off with a thigh high slit. My hair tumbles around my shoulders and down my back in a lion’s mane of waves. My lips are painted the darkest shade of red, the only real part of my face that will be seen from behind the gold mask that lays on the counter before me.

The Espera give me a crash course in backup vocals. No pressure, just last minute winging it in front of 13,000 people. I still can’t wrap my head around this, even as they help fit the mask to my face. It looks just like theirs, intricate bronze scrollwork curling down my cheeks, leaving only my mouth and jaw exposed. The mesh panels over the eyes allow me to make out shapes and light. So I can see plenty, but it doesn’t feel that way. For me, I might as well be blind. It’s the feeling of being out of control, a vulnerability that leaves me a bit raw and on edge.

A knock raps at the door and my ears grasp at every little sound, attempting to make up for my lack of sight. The women gather as it clicks open. Their blurry forms disappear to the sounds of scuffling shoes. The door closes. My blurred vision watches as a dark figure slowly makes its way across the mirrored space. Fully blind I would know it was him. The magnetism of his presence is threatening to drag me in like the gravity of a blackhole. It’s supermassive…

I hold my breath as he surveys me. It would be a lie to say that I am not intimidated under his gaze. Despite the disguise, the feeling of vulnerability remains.

“This suits you. How does it feel?” He purrs his approval. The tension in my chest eases.

“Thank you. How does what feel?”

“Your transformation.”

“Transformation? Into what?” My breath hitches, I can see his dark figure looming behind me.

“Your true self.”

“I’m not really sure what you mean by that. As excited as I am, I am also a little nervous.”

“What are you nervous about?”

“I’m not sure if it’s one specific thing. I just don’t know what to expect. I’ve never done this before. I know I’m wearing a mask but it still feels scary to have people actually watching me. This is worlds away from posting anonymous videos online.”

“I can understand. For us, the disguises are about showing the parts of ourselves that do not feel comfortable in our daily lives. Whether that is because we feel they should be hidden or we lack a suitable outlet. So it’s really not a disguise at all, but a revelation. By wearing this mask, I take off the invisible one I wear everyday. I embody the aspects of myself that I wouldn’t otherwise. So ask yourself… What would that feel like for you? Who would you allow yourself to be if you knew you were free from judgement?”

“I think it would feel freeing. But how am I supposed to figure that out tonight?”

“A lot can happen in just one night.”

Unsure of what to say, I sigh and tilt my head. A gentle tap on the side of my mask is his response. I stare straight ahead, looking upon our blurry reflections in the mirror.

“Envision yourself right now. A different version of you, a fantasy. Who could you be? How would you carry yourself? What presence do you bring? Take a minute. Close your eyes if you need. Think of the answer and then feel it. Become it. This is the transformation. It is first in your mind and then, in your being.”

I take a breath, close my eyes, and do as he says. I see the masked version of me, painted with black, a version of me that no one knows. Not even myself. She can be anything. I can be anything. This essence blossoms in my bones, radiating until it anchors itself into my being. Excitement ripples under my skin. I open my eyes.

“How does it feel?”

“It feels… different. I see myself but also… more.”

Vessel tilts his head.

“I saw paint. On my neck and it ran down.” Skimming my hands over my arms to illustrate my point.

“Stand.” I pray my knees don’t give out as I follow his command.. His proximity sends little electric waves skating along my skin.

“You know it’s true what they say. Depriving one sense, heightens the others. Close your eyes.”

I do as he says. Anticipation coursing through me.

“Touch, for example.”

His hands skate up my arms, over my bare shoulders to my neck. His fingers stroke along my skin, pressing into the muscles and working at the tension. Other parts of me start to crave the same and the weight of arousal settles between my thighs. I exhale a sigh. His fingertips play along my skin, alighting little sparks. Just as I’m being lulled into a daze, he stops. Moving away from me, he leans against the counter, silently staring. The vulnerability isn’t as uncomfortable now. Security has replaced whatever fear I felt before. He reaches for something on the counter.

“May I? I have an idea for you with this paint.”

“You may.” I tease lightly and I hear the sound of spinning plastic.

The light of the room is dimmed as he steps closer. Both hands come around my neck and fear takes root in an instant. What am I doing? I’m alone with a man who is dressed like a demon god, his hands are wrapped around my throat, and we are in a room where no one can hear me scream…probably. Oh no…. Should I be worried about how that turned me on?

Instead of squeezing the air from my lungs, he works the paint onto my skin. His fingers splay as he drags his hands down both sides of my neck. His fingernails scrape over my collarbones, stopping just before the neckline of my dress. My eyes fall closed and I can’t help the sigh that escapes or the shudder that runs through my body. Nor can I help imagining what it would feel like to have his hands on my thighs. Leaving a sinful trail of evidence, as he explored more sensual areas of my body. Circling behind me, his hands clasp my arms, leaving one last mark.

“Look at yourself.” His deep voice jarring me from my haze. Even with my obscured vision, I can clearly see the twin trails of black that drag down my neck, stopping just before my breasts and the stark handprints on my upper arms.

“It looks like I’ve been marked by a monster.” I say, amusement clear in my tone.

Silence. A brief moment of tension, then his hand wraps around my throat. He leans closer to me.

“Are you calling me a monster?” His teasing is mixed with tones of darkness. I shudder at the thrill.

“No. Monsters are scary and I’m not scared of you” …Yet

“Do you want to be scared of me?” His voice is low in my ear.

“Maybe a little” Maybe more than a little.

I see his head tilt in the mirror. I can’t see his eyes but I feel them flaying me alive, gleaning every dark desire snaking through my body. He releases me, putting a bit more distance between us.

“As much as I would love to explore that, it’s about time we get ready to go on. You’ll be brilliant. If you get nervous just remember my touch and how it’s plain for everyone to see.” I could feel him wink at me as he said that. It wasn’t the worst suggestion. That would certainly distract my thoughts from wandering into anxiety, but it would distract me in other ways. Blushing, I step through the door he holds for me, and follow him down the hall.

-------------

Like a cutscene in a movie, suddenly I’m on stage and the show is taking off. The lights and sounds are overwhelming. I allow myself a few minutes to adjust. Slowly, I begin to pick up the swaying movements from the Espera. Taking cues from their hazy shapes. Then, I allow my voice to softly join theirs. The flashing mass of screaming fans mere feet away is difficult to tune out, but I let them blur into shapes through my mask and my voice rises to the music. With each song they play, my confidence grows, and I feel that vision of myself, from the dressing room, coming to life.

Well, I know what you want from me

You want someone to be your reflection, your bitter deception

Setting you free, so you take what you want and leave

Excitement strikes like lightning. Of course I knew this song was coming, but being a part of it? Dancing while every instrument reverberates through my body?

Won’t you come and dance in the dark with me?

Tapping into that sensual side of me, I allow it to take form, my hips swaying to the rhythm. I trail my fingertips over my body, and pleasure ripples behind my touch. Hearing whispers of my voice wafting through the background is unreal.

Lipstick, chemtrails, red flags, pink nails

I once made a comment to Callie about how I fantasize about being in an orgy while this song plays because it never fails to turn me on. The way the beat builds and morphs, the lyrics on top of that, it feels like seduction. My voice vibrates through my being, sparking a dark desire that flares with the melody. My eyes fall shut as I remember our time together in the dressing room. I feel his phantom touch along my skin and surrender myself to the sensations.

You make me wish I could disappear

The music dies down, somber notes begin to rise. Recognition flutters in my heart. This is the song that first drew my attention to him… and his attention to me. My eyes snap open on instinct, despite my obstructed view, I see a dark figure approach me, blocking out the crowd. My heart begins to race. I tilt my masked face up at his towering form. He grabs my hand and leads me from behind my place in the background. There we are, front and center. I have no idea what he is doing or what he expects of me. My blood roars through my ears, beating against the tense curiosity of the all too quiet crowd. Curious cheers ring out, but my focus is drawn to him.

I dream in phosphorescence

Bleed through spaces

My nails scrape restlessly against the fabric of my dress. I have no idea what he wants from me. We never talked about this. Am I just supposed to stand here? Am I supposed to sing a specific part or harmony? My thoughts race as panic begins to sink its claws into me.

His finger curls under my chin. The gentle weight of him pulls me from the quicksand of my mind.

I’m transfixed as he sings to me.

My, my those eyes like fire I’m a winged insect you’re a funeral pyre.

A calm intensity settles in as I focus on the figure before me. Like a siren song his entire being draws me in until there is no one else. No crowd. Not even the band. Just him and me.

The music begins to build. I feel it in my chest. His hand lightly strokes my chin in invitation. The energy builds in my stomach and moves up my throat. God, it feels like it’s going to burst out of me. So I close my eyes and let it.

I will travel far beyond the path of reason. Take me back to Eden. Take me back to Eden

Our melody turns into harmonious wails.

Take me back to Edeeeennn

My eyes open to a flash of white teeth as he grins down at me, the music continuing its heavy intensity. That grin against his mask and paint, looks every bit like the monster I mentioned. The music drops into a quiet tempo and he steps closer, leaning in as his hood brushes my cheek.

“Stay.” He commands, before sauntering off, just as three chords are played.

Well yeah I spit blood when I wake up

He crouches towards the swarming crowd as he recites the lines. Waving hands and screaming smiles line the front of the crowd. As I watch him move across the stage, I remember his painted marks on my skin. My cheeks burn as he approaches me again.

I need you to see me for what I have become

Long fingers wrap around mine, bringing my hand to grasp the microphone, joining him for the chorus.

My, my those eyes like fire

My voice is a sweet backdrop contrasting his, as we sing together until the beat drops off. The hand folded atop mine loosens, his arm falling slack and I let go of the mic. His free hand sneaks through my hair, cradling my head in his hand. The sounds of birds chirping flit around the notes of the piano. This intimate moment sets me ablaze as I remember there are thousands of people watching. Jealousy licks at my sides from the scrutiny of their gaze. I pay them no mind.

His hands fall from my hair, as he lifts the mic, but sings to me.

I guess it goes to show does it not

That we’ve no idea what we’ve got until we lose it

His words resonate through my chest. Understanding the opportunity tonight presents, I want to make the most of this night, of this connection, and just enjoy whatever is to come.

No amount of self-sought fury will bring back the glory of innocence

Sound pours from me as I join him singing once again. The music sweeps me along and I ascend with it.

We were tangled up like branches in a flood

What happens next takes me by surprise. Vessel loops an arm around my waist, drawing me in until my dress brushes against his belt. He screams the ending lines with such intensity I feel as if I’m being hit by a hurricane. I can barely make out what he’s saying. My heart seizes with another little thrill of fear. All I see is the fierce glint of teeth through the contortions of his mouth as the music fades out.

Piano keys begin to play, as he leads me back to my place among the Espera. This is the last song of the show, Euclid. What a beautiful note to end on. I channel all the joy in my little heart into singing this final song. I know maybe the lyrics aren’t the happiest but I can’t help but feel light while singing it. Our voices fade out, as he brings things to a close.

The whites of your eyes, turn black in the lowlight

So give me the night, the night, the night…

-------------

We stopped by the dressing room long enough for me to grab my belongings and then he was leading me through more hallways. He holds a door open for me and I step into a gaudy locker room. Leading the way, I follow him through the space and into a long room. The harsh fluorescence glares off of the white tile lining the walls. On the left, is a mirrored wall of sinks and who knows what else. On the right, benches border each door frame, opening into showers.

We walk a few stalls down, I hang my tote and arrange my clothes on the bench as he wanders away. Pulling out a hair tie, I twist my hair up into a messy bun. Butterflies twist through my belly as he returns to my side, hanging a towel on my hook. We’ve shared this entire night, this entire week, without seeing each other’s face, perhaps we’ve seen a deeper truth. Either way, I’m not ready for it to end.

Inspiration strikes and I stride back to the main door and begin to flick the lights off one by one until all that is left is the glow of the adjoining locker room. His masked face tilts as his attention focuses on me. Grabbing the door handle, I pull it closed behind me until only a necessary sliver of light shines through. Giving my eyes a second to adjust, I carefully make my way back to my bench. I feel another thrill of excitement at the atmosphere. The near pitch black, the silence all around us, almost like something you’d see in a scary movie. I hear clothes rustling from the bench he is at. I’m still working on undoing the straps of my heels when I hear the harsh splash of water against tile. Once all of my outfit has made it into my tote, I take cautious steps into the awaiting shower.

“I wanted to keep the mystery going but maybe it’s a bit too dark.” So dark, that I can barely make out the other person in my proximity. My hands feel along the cool tiles for support.

“Give it a minute. Your eyes will adjust.” He’s calm. Still. Giving me space to acclimate. No longer clutching at the wall, I can make out the shape of him easier. Barely, I see the steam from the water and pumps of soap attached to the wall.

“Will they adjust enough to be able to tell the difference between which is the soap and which is the conditioner?” I tease.

“Hmm might have to go with good ole trial and error on that” Our laughter echoes against the walls.

Stepping closer, I let my gaze wander. The lines of his muscles catch what little light there is. My breath hitches, the difference in our height is exaggerated now that I am barefoot. The way he looms over me keeps his face masked in shadow. Again, the thrill of being alone with this strange, dark god shivers through me, bringing my awareness back to the arousal that has been burning all night.

“Well I will gladly volunteer as the test subject.”

“And I will gladly accept. I didn’t want to assume…”

“I would actually prefer if you do assume.” I step closer to him. Even in the pitch black I can see his head tilt down at me.

“Did you enjoy yourself tonight?”

“I did. I’ve never experienced anything like it.” I say almost reverently.

“Shall we keep the experience going then?” A shiver runs through my body

“Yes.” I breathe..

“Sing for me?” My brows jump up. Posting videos of me singing alone in my house and singing background vocals could not prepare me for this.

“What do you want me to sing?”

“Anything” My mind goes blank all for one song. I take a deep breath to still my nerves.

Come with me, and you’ll be, in a world of pure imagination

Tentatively, I recite the words.

Take a look and you’ll see

Into your imagination

There is no life I know

To compare with pure imagination

His voice joins mine.

Living there, you’ll be free

I stop, allowing him to finish the verse

If you truly wish to be

Courage is easier found in the dark I realize, when my hands begin to trail along his chest and I continue singing.

If you want to view paradise, simply look around and view it

Anything you want to, do it

My long nails gently scrape across his abs as his fingers trace the black paint along my chest.

“What a mess I’ve made.” The timbre of his voice sends desire rushing through me. Reaching back, he grabs something from one of the dispensers and lathers his hands. The creamy substance spreads down my shoulders as he begins to work out the tension in my muscles. His hands began to slip down to above my breasts. Working in slow circles. The combination of excitement and desire keeps my mind sharp despite the haze of lust. His thumbs swipe across my skin with a delicious pressure. Grasping the tops of my arms, he leans towards me and my lips hum in anticipation. His mouth grazes past my cheek.

“I think… this is conditioner” He murmurs in my ear. I can’t help the surprised giggle that escapes me. I can feel his amusement even as he turns from me. The muted clicks of the dispenser can be heard over the shower stream. When he faces me again, the energy shifts. A thrill runs through me as he grabs the back of my neck with one hand.

“May I?” He echoes the familiar words he spoke earlier in the night.

“You may.” I breathe and his lathered hand begins running down my neck, as his other creeps up into my hair. My head tilts back. The glow from the distant light flashes off his sharp grin. His hand moves lower down my chest, as he works at the paint there. I’m not sure which is more arousing. Him painting me or washing it off. My nipples harden and a dull throb settles between my thighs just as his large hand sweeps over my breast. His fingers capture my nipple, flexing and rolling against my soft skin. I exhale shakily as he moves on to the other, giving it the same treatment. Grabbing my hips, he pulls me into the water, washing away his claim, his touch laying stake to a new one. Then he flips me around, I catch myself on the cool tile wall. As he steps closer, I can feel him pressed against me.

“I very much enjoyed having my mark on you, clear for everyone to see.” His voice is low against my ear, as his lips drag over my neck, gently nipping at my skin. The hand on my right hip slides down my thigh. My legs tense in anticipation. His fingers begin swiping in teasing strokes, closer and closer to where I burn for his touch.

“Tell me, what has you so wet for me?” I let out a whimper as his fingertips slide through the evidence of his claim.

“Was it on stage? When I whispered in your ear?” Stay. I shook my head. That definitely turned me on but it wasn’t where it started. The memory of us in the dressing room, with his hands around my neck flickers through my mind. Just that quick thought stokes the already well fanned flames of arousal.

“Before the show in the dressing room” I say and receive a hum of approval. I’m rewarded as his finger dips inside me ever so slightly. His strokes are shallow, only increasing my need for him.

“What about it?” His fingers slow, urging me to respond. It’s hard to think through the fog of my desire.

“When you painted my neck.” Relief washes over me as he picks up his still too slow pace. His left hand moves from my hip, trailing over my fluttering stomach, paying brief attention to my breast, before sliding around my throat. My thighs clench around his hand before I can help myself, my body vibrating with anticipation.

“Ah so this is what you like?” His grip tightens as he speaks and my hips rock back desperate for more than this teasing. All I accomplish is grinding my ass against his cock. He inhales sharply but presses himself fully against me.

“So eager.” He laughs. “Is this what you’ve wanted?” His fingers still move at a languid pace, but curl deeper inside me.

“Yes” I nod enthusiastically.

“But it’s not enough is it?” I shake my head. Because despite the pleasure I felt, the need was greater. The need to feel more of him, to have more of him. He obliges, sliding in a second finger. I cry out, my cheeks heat from embarrassment at the echo. I press my lips together, stifling my moans. His fingers still. He leans forward, his chest against my back, pressing me into the wall.

“Don’t stop singing for me now” He purrs and the rumble in his chest vibrates through my own.

“It’s just you and me. There’s no one else.”

I exhale heavily as my mouth parts. Right away, he rewards me with deliberate strokes of his fingers. The hand around my neck lazily works at the muscles there and waves of ecstasy shoot through me. My nails catch on the grout between the tiles as pleasure begins to coil tight in my muscles. I’m lost in the way my moans reverberate around us as his thumb carefully starts working my clit. It’s consuming. The stretch of his fingers, dragging over every sensitive spot inside me, playing my body like an instrument. His hips roll against my backside, grinding against me. I can feel the hard length of him, thick and hot against me. I begin to crave more and the thought alone of feeling all of him inside me brings me towards the peak.

“Someday I will have all of you and you will have all of me. Until then I will have the memory of how wet and tight you are around my fingers. Wishing you were wrapped around my cock instead.” My hips rocked, practically riding his hand as the pleasure ramping up inside me spun so tight I felt it would snap at any moment. “Every time I look at my hand I want to remember how it felt to have you come on my fingers.” A ragged cry left my throat as his words pushed me over the edge. The tension inside me broke. Shattered shards of pleasure sliced through me as my body shook. His hand slipped out of me and I felt him work himself against my ass. Tremors skittered through me as I began to come down from my high. The cooling fire in my core alighting anew at the knowledge that he would soon follow. The hand around my neck had slid to brace himself against the wall.

“I want to feel you claim me again.” Shortly after those words left my mouth, I heard him groan. He shuddered against me as I felt hot spurts of him against my hip and back. His cheek came to rest against the top of my head. We stayed pressed against the wall as our breathing and heart rates slowed.

“Well I’m afraid I’ve made a bigger mess than when we started.” My body vibrates against his as I laugh. He pulls me back to the water and gets to work cleaning me off.

“Ves. Thank you, for tonight.” The nickname felt a bit strange on my tongue but appropriate given the standing of our relationship now.

“The pleasure was mine. Thank you for joining us and thank you for indulging me.”

“Of course. I wouldn’t miss a once in a lifetime opportunity.”

“I’m flattered… We will see each other again, you know.” Now it’s my turn to tilt my head at his words.

“Will we?” The possibility hadn’t even crossed my mind. Everything happened so fast.

“If you would like… There is still so much left to explore.” Even in my sated state, the purr of his words spark arousal.

“Oh I think I would like that very much.” Tension crackles between us. God if I don’t get out of here I’m going to be in over my head. Exhaustion was starting to creep into my bones.

“I think it’s past my bedtime.” I say with a yawn. That gets a little laugh out of him.

“Well you run along home before I’m inclined to drag you back into this cave and never let you go.” Again, he’s teasing, but the edge in his voice promises something darker. “Or someone comes looking for us and turns all those awful lights on.” His hands grip my shoulders as he leans down and plants a kiss on the top of my head. “We wouldn’t want to ruin the mystery.”

“We sure wouldn’t” Reluctantly, I walk away. I dry off the lingering evidence of what just occurred between us, slip into my clothes, and return to the harsh light of reality.

#my writing #my work #sleep token fanfic #sleep token fic #vessel fanfic #vessel smut #sleep token smut #vessel x reader #sleep token x reader #gildedneon writes

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utilitycaster · 2 months ago

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Do you think this new option could lead to a break up in the party and some of the characters leaving the group? Because I can't see everyone agreeing that this is the best solution, but I also think Ashton is stubborn enough to refuse to consider anything else

This is going to be a very long answer for what is a pretty short question that could be answered in one sentence, and here's why.

I've gotten a lot of questions in the past week or so that are specifically asking me what I think the future will be - for campaign 3, and for Critical Role generally. And I've gotten a little frustrated by them, which is somewhat uncharacteristic of me because I love having opinions, but the fact is, I don't know and I don't even have strong opinions. So I dug into that, and why people might be asking these things more than usual, and I really think it's because the narrative of this campaign is so constantly under threat of derailment or going in the same old circles that pretty much anyone in the fandom with any sense of narrative structure, and what makes for a well-crafted story is like "so...what's happening." Which is translating as coming to me, a person who is very good at sounding confident and knowledgeable.

I do not fucking know. I share this frustration, and I cannot be the person to clear it up. i am not even the best at narrative or analysis in this fandom; as I pretty frequently state I took the hard STEM option with regards to my education so while I read a lot and have a pretty good sense for the lay person, there are actual like, trained and published writers. For what it's worth several of them are my mutuals and while I'm not putting the rest of this post on them I do feel safe saying they agree that the lack of narrative direction is at the heart of most people's frustrations with this campaign, even if they enjoy the characters. But getting back to the point, I do not know.

Here's where I stand on the actual plot before I go back to the bigger picture. I think that unless Bells Hells decide on their course of action pretty quickly, no ending will really feel satisfying due to that sense of directionlessness - and there are arguments for Bells Hells to take either the Arch Heart or the Accord's plan, though I think the Accord's is far superior, but they need to pick one.

Because of the ongoing issues with this party lacking perspectives that tied in well to this story and having to hinge everything on either one singular interpretation of one single instance in extraordinary circumstances (eg: Dorian), or stuff that feels, as I've said before, retconned, I have generally been extremely amenable to Bells Hells losing party members either through a split or through character deaths. This is not out of any sort of vindictiveness or dislike of characters, but just a hope that now that they know the vibe, the cast will make a character who has a perspective that is relevant to the story (which, FCG is not an ideal example because they happened to be the character who had perhaps best grown from their original concept to fit into the themes of this campaign, but Braius obviously is a very strong character informed by the story as well). I also think that a lot of the indecisiveness is part of the characters' various natures and that will also be a factor, especially since a new character can be both decisive, have a clear point of view, and be a lot more comfortable pissing off the rest of the party to assert it. So: if Bells Hells as they currently stand can decide what to do quickly, no need to break up! But if they can't, yeah, it would be to their and the story's benefit to do so. That's before we get into, for example, the sacrifice required from specifically Imogen or Fearne for the Arch Heart's plan; Ashton is not the one who has to risk their own autonomy for the rest of eternity. They might die in battle, but they will not become a husk housing an ancient hunger. I think the people who might have to do so get to decide.

Now: it may seem counterintuitive to demand a clear direction from a TTRPG, when part of the appeal is that we don't know how it will end, but the thing is, with the past campaigns, we did not know if the party would succeed but we knew that they wanted to do. Vox Machina could have fallen to Vecna but we always knew they were going to fight Vecna. The Mighty Nein's decisions not to get involved with the war are not indecision but rather a very clear decision (do not get involved). Their later reversal of that decision similarly follows from who they are and the richness of their pasts.

Bells Hells does not have that, and the endless circular conversations are both circular in game and a vicious cycle out of it; because we've always been focused on this plot from very early on and because the characters were not developed as strongly, we have a lot of very indecisive people who are too trapped in this crisis to develop and become decisive. In a way, it feels like Matt's been something like the Arch Heart here: saying "oh, THIS would be interesting, I wonder what will happen" at everything when it's like "ok but consequences are like, important, and maybe you should let things play out. I mean, two cycles isn't great but it is still only two; maybe you should actually let your children/players figure this out, even if it doesn't fit your idea of what should happen, instead of throwing yet another new thing at them."

So: I don't know and I don't have answers about Campaign 3 events at this point because, again, as someone who has a pretty good sense of what makes for a satisfying narrative, it has frequently subverted those requirements (which, to be clear, is bad - it's not genre subversion or a masterful play on expectations, it's subverting actual satisfying narrative beats; as someone said on one of my other posts in not quite so many words, it's like storyline-baiting). I know I tend to present my points with confidence, and I am pretty confident about a lot of things like CR lore and said sense of narrative, but like...maybe this guess on the fandom vibe is incorrect, but I think I'm getting these questions because people are saying "hey, do you know where we're going? I think I am reading this map wrong" to me and I'm here to say "no, you're reading it fine, we've gone off the road and are just kinda crashing through underbrush, and maybe we'll hit another road and continue on that and I can give some insight, but also we might go off a cliff, no way to tell."

#answered #minxie-the-sabertooth-kitty #honestly the metanarrative of the arch heart as matt slaps. good job me.#also i kept this remarkably diplomatic given some of the moronic ThIs CaMpAiGn SuBvErTs ThE oThErS posts #cr spoilers

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intimacyequalsdeath · 1 year ago

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Bubz's Slasher Fictober Apple Crumble NSFW Alphabets Day 15: Bo Sinclair

The third week is here! I am so excited to share with you all the fun things I have planned for the next two weeks of Fictober. First and foremost this week plus an extra day so for the next 8 days there will be NSFW Alphabets.

Notes: Minors DNI, Smut and Smutty themes, NSFW.

A is for Aftercare (What they're like after sex):

Bo is well, Bo. He's not the softest person in the world but the last thing he wants you to get is any kind of infection or anything so he'll help you to the bathroom and get you cleaned up and maybe just maybe give a cuddle or two when it's all said and done.

B is for Body Part (Favorite on them and their partner):

Bo likes his hands best, I mean he works with them everyday whether it's for show at the gas station or not. His hands have been weathered by the years of working and he's very proud of that.

His favorite part of you are your hips or thighs, don't try to make him choose though. He loves running his hands over them or just staring at them as you walk. They're his favorite thing to mark up with hickies even if your shorts are long enough to cover them up.

C is for Cum (Anything to do with cum):

Bo's cum is really thick and boy is there a lot of it when he cums. Don't even think about wasting it though. If he cums inside you he makes you position yourself so it doesn't drip out and if your able to get pregnant well that's a plus too. If neither of those things though he makes you swallow every last drop and then open your mouth to make sure you've swallowed it. Bo doesn't like to waste.

D is for Dirty Secret:

Bo will never ever tell you this but sometimes every so often he has a thought of what if you went down to his room under the station and he watched you get off with one of the people he ties up. He's almost positive if he ever brought it up that you would shoot him down and he doesn't really want you to get involved like that anyway. Never the less he still pictures it from time to time.

E is for Experience (How experienced are they?):

Are you kidding? Bo has all the experience in the world. Even before he tied up girls underneath the station back before him and his brothers even took over Ambrose. His high school years even if they weren't always spent at school served him good in the experience category.

F is for Favorite Position:

Bo likes just about anything where he doesn't actually have to put any work in. He has long days at the station and dealing with his brothers, don't make him work here too. His personal favorite is probably cowgirl or something along those lines though. He likes putting his hands behind his head being the cocky bastard he is and watching you do all the work.

G is for Goofy (How serious are they?):

You can laugh and giggle all you want he doesn't really give a fuck but him? nah. If for some reason he wants to put in work instead of just letting you service him he's going to take it as serious as any other job he does on the day to day.

H is for Hair (How well groomed are they?):

He keeps it trimmed and neat, but don't expect anything special just for you when the two of you start sleeping together.

I is for Intimacy (How are they during the act, romantic etc):

As previously stated multiple times Bo is Bo. Most of the time he's going to want to just fuck and not much else, however if you catch him in a good mood or on a special occasion he tends to ease up for you. Whether it's holding you a little tighter or making more of an effort to be gentler with you, He'll at least try.

J is for Jackoff (Do they masturbate and how often?):

Bo masturbates oftenish. I mean have you seen all the photos he keeps, Although when you come around most of the photos in his basement and that he keeps for personal use will start to turn into pictures of you. So when he does jerkoff it's always to his honey.

K is for Kink (Their kinks):

Bo is big into roleplay, you as a victim lost in the Ambrose and him as well, himself, but he lives for this. Don't be afraid to run and give him a good chase too.

Bondage is also a big one for Bo. He'll tie you up and then just sit and watch as you devolve into cries at him pleading him to touch you. He's already mean as fuck so this is perfect to him.

L is for Location (Favorite places to have sex):

Bo is classic so he'll mostly want it in your shared bedroom at the house, however if he's feeling adventurous he'll call you down to the station so you can do it in the chair he has in the basement. Just maybe try not to think about how many people have been tied their before you.

M is for Motivation (What turns them on?):

Literally everything about you turns Bo on, but if you really wanna get him going. Let him find you in the kitchen in the mornings in one of his shirts, wearing only his shirt and nothing else. THAT is what makes Bo go absolutely feral.

N is for No (Something they won't do):

Bo won't share you at all. Oh it's been awhile since his brothers have had sex? well that's too fucking bad they can tie someone up like he used to do.

O is for Oral (Oral Preferences):

Receiving is Bo summed up in one word. Again, He works long days at the station and keeping Ambrose up and running. He might become a REALLY good giver but he needs to be in a REALLY good mood to do so.

P is for Pace (How fast or slow? Are they rough?):

I honestly think Bo can do both slow and fast, as I've been saying a lot of Bo's sexual escapades depend on his mood and this is no different. If he's angry he's fast and rough but he also will never turn down sleepy slow morning sex.

Q is for Quickie ( Do they like quickies?):

Bo's down for really anything. Sure he prefers to take you in his home in his bed but if he needs to get a quick one off at the station in between victims then so be it.

R is for Risk (Are they down to experiment?):

If you bring things up to Bo he'll do them for you and if likes them well enough he'll start doing it more often but he's not really the one to bring up anything new to try as he's satisfied with things the way they are.

S if for Stamina (How long can they go for?):

Bo can go for a few hardcore rounds. If you wanna continue after that if you've got the stamina then feel free to ride him but don't expect him to do much work.

T is for Toys (Do they use toys and do they like them?):

Bo won't use toys or anything like that on himself, but if you have them and wanna try them out on yourself or wanna look into getting some he'll gladly help you out. He especially likes the remote control ones he can tease you with the best.

U if for Unfair (Do they like to tease?):

Bo is the king of teasing, don't be surprised if he brings you to almost tears some times begging for him to give you some kind of release. He's Bo Sinclair, he can be mean as all hell if he feels like it.

V is for Volume (How loud can they get?):

A few grunts and groans is all your really ever going to get out of Bo. He's not one to be loud himself even if his brothers are out of the house and there's no one else in Ambrose anyways. He wants to and likes to hear you scream though so don't be afraid to make enough noise for the both of you.

W is for Wild Card (Random things):

Sometimes Bo has nightmares about what happened during his childhood. Those are some of the only nights he'll seek you out for cuddles. He'll let you hold him as he falls back to sleep knowing that he's safe and not there anymore.

X is for X-Ray (What are they packing):

Bo is big, about 6 to 7 inches at least but he's also thick. Like REALLY thick, Bo aims to fill you up and that's exactly what he does.

Y is for Yearning (How high is their sex drive?):

Bo is mean, sure but he's also absolutely all about you so his sex drive sky rockets. If you think it was a lot before you came along you haven't seen anything yet.

Z is for ZZZ (How fast do they fall asleep?):

Like I said in Aftercare, He won't fall asleep right away cause he at least wants you to be cleaned up and all before he does. After that though it's pretty much lights out for him. He's got early mornings no matter how late he stays up and needs to get to bed.

#slasher x reader #slasher fandom #halloween #bo sinclair #house of wax 2005 #bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair smut #Fictober

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steddieunderdogfics · 9 months ago

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This week's writer spotlight feature is: @lexirosewrites! They have forty-four Stranger Things and forty-three Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson works on archive of our own!!

An anonymous nominator recommends the following works by lexirosewrites:

24-Hour Diner

On Thin Ice

And the Sun will Rise

Bandaids for the Heart

Waking Up In Vegas

A/B/O isn't for everyone, but Lexi writes it in a way that it IS. I've always been a fan of the trope, but Lexi writes A/B/O in a way that expands beyond the basics. They've expanded their universes to play with common A/B/O themes in ways I've never seen -- each one feels fresh and exciting. And yes, they're popular in their own right, but they have so many hidden gems!! I just adore them and the work they've done beyond the tropes and tags. They put so much work into their stories and building their community, pushing through all the fandom bullshit to bring joy to their bubble of fandom. They're easily my go-to author rec for anyone getting into steddie and/or A/B/O and they deserve all of the love!! And if you're seeing this Lexi, thank you for continuing to create and share your beautiful ideas with us. ♥ - anonymous

Below the cut, @lexirosewrites answered some questions about their writing process and some of their recommended work!

Why do you write Steddie?

I love the chemistry that Steve and Eddie have. They’re two people who make no sense together and yet they make so much sense together? They have a good mix of parental issues and they’re on opposite sides of the social spectrum, which makes for a lot of fun exploring their relationship.

What’s your favorite trope to READ?

I’m a sucker for soulmate fics. They’re my true weakness in life.

What’s your favorite trope to WRITE?

I love to write about mutual pining. I enjoy making it clear that both parties are pining and suffering under the delusion that their feelings are unrequited.

What’s your favorite Steddie fic?

This is such a hard question. I don’t read as much as I used to, but the one I reread the most is “Consummate Professional” by Eddywow for sure. It’s just a cute fic and the smut is A+ as well!

Is there a trope you’re excited to explore in a future work but haven’t yet?

I’ve worked through most of my favorite tropes at this point, but I’m excitedly planning a timeloop fic set in the omegaverse.

What is your writing process like?

It’s a bit of a mess, truthfully. I start with unorganized bullet points to brainstorm things I think will happen in the fic and slowly arrange that into a real plot with actual events and not just some loose threads of a story. Then, I just go chapter by chapter to put them in order and make changes as necessary after that.

Do you have any writing quirks?

I write omegaverse fics almost exclusively. Which I’d say probably qualifies as a quirk! I also just have a habit of writing recurring themes in many of my works. For the most part, they all have angst, lots of pining and miscommunication, and a perfectly cozy happy ending with a big bow on it.

Do you prefer posting when you’ve finished writing or on a schedule?

Oh, I hate waiting. The moment a chapter or fic is done and someone has at least skimmed it over for big issues, it gets formatted and posted. The only times I wait are for events like the Big Bang or a gift for someone’s birthday!

Which fic are you most proud of?

“Bandaids for the Heart” is the work closest to my heart because I’m a nurse and I got to use my love for nursing to write about my job and craft a whole story out of it. I’m very proud of how it turned out and the fact that I finished it despite some personal challenges along the way.

How did you get the idea for 24-Hour Diner?

I actually got an ask on tumblr with the prompt that inspired me to write it!

When writing 24-Hour Diner, what was something you didn’t expect?

I actually have a longer Mafia AU fic and I was worried they’d end up being too similar, but I enjoyed finding little ways to distinguish it as its own fic.

What inspired On Thin Ice?

I love to ice skate and a friend in my discord server was gushing about HexieWrites’ “Carve Your Name Into My Chest,” which made me want to explore my figure skating background.

What was your favorite part to write from On Thin Ice?

There’s a scene where Steve gets injured and Eddie has to carry him off the rink. Every story has at least one “that’s the scene I really want to write!” and that was the one for this fic. I love some good hurt/comfort!

Do you have a favorite scene and/or line from any of your fics?

That’s so hard to narrow down, but I’d have to say that it’s a scene from my fic “Bad Beat,” where Steddie are at prom and Eddie pulls out a granola bar from his tux pocket because he knows Steve likes them… even as Steve is fully planning on pranking him for a bet. It’s a heartbreaking scene and I think about it a lot.

Do you have any upcoming projects or fics you’d like to share/promote?

I’ve got lots of upcoming fics, but I can’t share most of the titles yet since they’re gifts! However, I have a The Greatest Showman inspired fic called “A Million Dreams” that’s getting posted in early January!

Outside of these questions, Is there anything YOU would like to add?

I’m honestly so grateful to have the support that I do for how niche most of my fics are. Most people in the Steddie community have been incredibly kind to me and I really appreciate it, even if omegaverse isn’t their cup of tea. I’m just here to have fun and make new friends!

Thank you to our author, @lexirosewrites, and our nominator! See more of @lexirosewrites' work featured on our page throughout the day!

Writer's Spotlight is every Wednesday! Want to nominate an author? You can nominate them here!

#steddie fic recs #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steve x eddie #writer's spotlight #writer's wednesday #lexirosewrites

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redsrooftopprincess · 15 days ago

Text

Pumpkin Sugar (Part 1)

Raphael x GN!Reader - Established Relationship

Part 1 . Part 2 . Part 3 . Part 4 . Epilogue (🌶️ Fem!Reader)

Based on this ask by @gornackeaterofworlds

More of a question to expand on than a detailed request, but would raph help a teacher reader grade papers?? Would he get invested in gossip on the kids??

I was zoning out and somehow thought about elementary school teacher readers, coming back to the lair with papers to grade, Donnie getting angry over the lesson plans you have to use, etc. And then, like always, raph thoughts(I am unbelievably gushy to raph x lil sweet cheery readers) Being oh so sleepy tired but still having work to do. Grading papers, getting activities printed and cut, weekly plans. I'd like to imagine he helps to get you to sleep faster, all the while listening to the venty yapping about which kids are troublemakers

Hi gornack! I hope you are feeling well. ♥️

Sorry this took so long. I want you to know that this started out as a simple fluffy fic, but Red disagreed. He wanted to make you smile.

I'm going to be splitting this into 4 parts (+ an epilogue) to make it easier to read because I accidentally went over the character limit in my notes app *twice*. I wasn't aware you could accidentally write a whole ass fic, but here we are. 😅

Special thanks to @the-cauldron-witch . The best brainstorming buddy I could honestly ask for. Could not have written this without you. 😁

"Come on, babe, please?"

You sigh, whining, "Raph..."

"I gotta head out early, you'll be asleep by the time I get back," he pleaded. He was only working a half night, but he had to leave right at sunset and head across town, so he wouldn't be home until well after 1:00 am, and you had school in the morning.

It had been a long day, and it still wasn't over yet.

You really did like your job. The kids were great, even when they misbehaved it wasn't their fault. There were just too many of them and not enough of you. You couldn't watch everybody all the time, but you still had to try. Third grade was a lot. Especially when you were managing 27 kids (you're grateful, you have colleagues managing 40+, and it's a fucking zoo).

Still, you tried to make things fun for them. Halloween is tomorrow, and you don't want to do the traditional boring "spooky" theme. So, you've decided to teach an entire class of 8-9 year olds a little bit about applied chemistry.

You were actually really excited! You'd picked up a bunch of foam pumpkins at the dollar store, which were currently being dragged in a cart behind you. You were planning on carving them into jack o'lanterns and teaching the kids how to make elephant toothpaste to ooze out of the holes. It's was going to be the most beautiful chaos, and with any luck, a memorable experience.

There was only one problem, you'd been dealing with meetings and trainings all week and unable to actually carve the damn pumpkins. Today there was an outage in part of the building, so you had to wait two hours to use the one copier available, and by the time you walked out you had zero gas left in the tank. You wanted to go home and finish your work so you could go to bed.

You reach the top of the stairs, exiting the subway at street level. The lair is literally in the opposite direction. You look south, towards your apartment.

"Please?" He asks again, his voice softening. You haven't seen him in days and you can hear in his voice that it's taking as much of a toll on him as it is you. "I'll help you with your school shit, whatever, I just... I gotta see you. Please?"

You sigh and turn around, heading north. You miss him, too.

...

He meets you at the door to the elevator, and despite your exhaustion, you can't help but smile. He had that effect. Comfort, safety, peace, love... Raphael is Home. And the moment you step inside his arms all of your tension melts away. Almost.

He picks you up in his arms and squeezes you tightly, swinging you gently back and forth as he buries his nose in your hair. He breathes you in and grins, chuckling quietly as you squeeze him back and press your face against his neck.

"What're you laughing at?" you ask, suspicious. He was way more... something... than normal... you're not entirely sure what. You raise your head with your eyes narrowed.

"Nothin'," he says, kissing you sweetly, "just happy to see you." Your eyes narrow further, but this seems to satisfy you. You kick your legs and whine and he sets you down.

Picking up the crate and carrying it casually under one arm (though, to be fair, the pumpkins are made of foam), he gestures you first into the elevator and follows behind. He takes your hand pretty much immediately, "So what're we working on?"

"Pumpkins," you sigh.

He waits a beat. Then another. "Okay... You gonna give me more than that, or..." He smirks down at you, laughing. He can't help it.

"Yeah, sorry," you laugh, "rough week." You shake your head, before looking up at him, "carving, specifically."

"Shit, why didn't you say so? I could've done the whole thing for you!" He laughs as you exit the elevator into the lower garage.

Donnie's working on the truck and you wave at him as you pass by. He gives you a bright smile and your suspicion grows. He's a bit too cheery for being elbow deep in his latest mechanical mess.

You make it to the living room and start unpacking everything. Foam pumpkins, sharpies, exacto knives, "that should be everything," you say, grabbing a gourd and sitting down on the couch. You tuck your legs up under you as Raph walks by behind, leaning down to kiss you on his way to the other side.

He only has about an hour before he needs to leave, but he spends it cuddled up next to you quietly carving pumpkins, an activity which he actually enjoys. All too soon, he's called away to his duties.

With a lingering kiss that leaves you missing him already, he's gone, and you're left with... so much work.

...

The pumpkins are taking longer than expected, and by midnight you're still not done. Mostly because, for a teacher, you really suck at learning your lesson, and you waited until the last minute. Again. And you didn't ask your boyfriend for help once you realized it was too much. Again.

Honestly, one word and he could have had this solved for you. You look over at your annual Family Pumpkin Carving Competition entries. Raph was no longer allowed to enter the contest because it wasn't fair. But he still did one because he enjoyed it. This year, it seems, he was feeling romantic.

It was a MASSIVE pumpkin almost to your shoulder. You have no idea how he even got it down here. Inside was a small table with several electric candles, illuminating the ballroom scene from Beauty and the Beast.

You set down the half-carved jack o' lantern, and sigh heavily, rubbing your eyes. You lean back on the couch, tucking your feet under you. You're just going to shut your eyes for a few seconds. You know that people always say that and they end up just falling asleep, but you really actually mean it, you'll close your eyes for a few minutes and then get back to work.

....

Tag list

@thelaundrybitch @the-cauldron-witch @fyreball66 @ninnosaurus @tmntngl @thegirlwiththeninjaturtletattoos @zagreustomb @ramielll @silverwatergalaxy @gornackeaterofworlds @footninja @daedric-sorceress @sophiacloud28 @iridescentflamingo

...

Part 1 . Part 2 . Part 3 . Part 4 . Epilogue (🌶️ Fem!Reader)

#bayverse raphael #raphael x reader #tmnt raphael #tmnt #bayverse raphael x reader #raph x reader #tmnt raphael x reader #tmnt bayverse #teenage mutant ninja turtles

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ryuichirou · 3 months ago

Text

Noncon hc

Anonymous asked:

Trey with a rape kink is hot lol oops. Luckily for him Riddle is the perfect victim..among others.

Is there anyone else you headcanon has the same/similar kinks? 👀

Anonymous asked:

Who's most likely to rape someone? If u already made a rape fic I wanna see

I can’t believe that I triggered this Pandora box by mentioning Trey’s possible kink in one of the hc lists lol But I am glad I did! Thank you for your asks, Anons.

Of course and as always, it’s as possible for all of these boys to be that bad and also equally possible for them not to be, and for someone who loves darker themes and dub/noncon it’s interesting for me to write about it, because I have to fight the urge to yell ALL OF THEM and call it a day lol But also! I’ll try to think about it (kind of) rationally, so let’s go through the list!

(I’m only writing about the tops this time, not because I don’t think bottoms are incapable of raping, but rather because this particular set of bottoms isn’t, in my opinion. My bias, as always <3)

So yeah, three questions: who has this kink/actively thinks about it; who would actually do it; who has done it.

Ace – not really, I don’t think his mind goes that way at all. He did watch some porn with pretend rape before and thought that it’s kind of stupid and isn’t hot at all, but something did tingle in his brain and he did keep thinking about that one porn for weeks after watching it. Still, normally he wouldn’t do it...

Trey – just thought I’d mention this man so we could point at him and say “shame” once again. He is haunted by his kink. He hadn’t done anything yet though, and he doesn’t think he could. Who knows? It’s always a battle in Trey’s head.

Cater – he does have a little bit of this kink. The power and control aspect speak to him in a very unexpected (for Cater himself) manner. He isn’t as haunted by this kink as Trey, but he does fantasise about it sometimes... If it’s just in his head, it doesn’t hurt anyone, right?

Ruggie – nah, I don’t think he overlaps with this kink in any way shape of form.

Jack – no kink, but his instinct does take over sometimes, so there is always a risk that he could lose control and do something that could be at least described as dubcon. I think the deep shame that he is feeling over this could morph into weird enjoyment though, so maybe he’ll get himself into a Trey situation at some point...

Azul – he doesn’t really think about these things, so while he isn’t aware of it, he does have a kink. He is even more into power and control of it than Cater; in general, Azul is a sucker for destroying someone. But in practice, he would only do it if it’s a part of his twisted convoluted plan. Otherwise, it would just be a waste.

Jade and Floyd – I try not to write about both of them at the same time, but: yup. Both of them have it, both of them would do it, both of them has done it. Sometimes they act together, sometimes they do it separately. But they also don’t consider it as big of a deal as some other boys: in a lot of ways, it’s pretty much their default state...

Kalim – I know we all love darker twists for Kalim, but nah :) Look at him. He doesn’t have this desire to break, ruin and dominate. I wouldn’t call him 100% innocent, but I also don’t think he has either desire or guts to pull off something like that.

Rook – I will once again remind everyone that he explains his friendship with Trey by saying that birds of a feather flock together. No matter how much Trey insists that he is the normal one, neither of them are normal, and of course Rook finds the idea of rape hot in a sickly poetic way. Would he do it? Absolutely. Has he done it before? Well, that’s a secret...

Ortho – AI!Ortho doesn’t have kinks, but he does have phases during which he tries to mimic certain behaviours, so no one is 100% safe. For now though, he is a good boy! And human!Ortho probably wouldn’t necessarily have this kink, but he is one unstable boy, probably the closest to a yandere out of everyone in twst, so he could definitely do it. Although I think this would put him in a bit of a different category...

Sebek – this kink is a little sapling that is desperately trying to bloom in Sebek’s head, but he is pushing it down with all of his will. He doesn’t want to think about it and he doesn’t fully understand it, but it feels indecent. Not even because it’s non-consensual, but because it feels dirty... and makes him lose focus every time he is being extra aggressive with Silver during their sparring and Silver makes an unexpected sound or looks at him in confusion. Yeah, I think Sebek is capable of doing something like this at some point.

Lilia – yes, yes and yes. Well, he used to do a lot of fucked up shit when he was younger, and he does have the biggest body count in the entire cast, and he absolutely didn’t ask for consent every single time (with anyone other than royalty of course). I would even say he only started asking for consent relatively recently... But the more “consensual and proper” Lilia becomes, the more this desire cements itself as a kink in his brain. Is it nostalgia? He does fantasise a lot... especially when some brat pisses him off or acts in a way that is annoying <3

#replies #headcanons

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peterman-spideyparker · 2 years ago

Text

Santa, Baby (Matt Murdock x fem!Reader)

Author’s Note: Sooooooooo this fic was supposed to come on December 23, but I procrastinated with it and didn’t end up finishing it until yesterday, and I don’t want to wait until next year to post because I’d put money on it that I’d forget. And it’s still December, so it counts. Enjoy :)

Summary: You want to do something on the sexier side to surprise Matt at Christmastime, but you don’t know how he’d take it. When Matt takes an unexpected night off from vigilantism, you put your plan into motion.

Warnings: Fluff (established couple, soft domestic sweetness, kisses), smut (holiday themed sexy outfits, oral - m and f receiving, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie), swearing

Other Characters: Karen Page (Karen x Frank)

Word Count: 3,809

“Hey,” you say with a smile as you open the door, the office of Nelson, Murdock, and Page on the air of the quiet side of things for what you know has been a busy week for the trio.

“Angel, what are you doing here?” Matt smiles, taking a few steps forward from Karen’s desk to meet you in the middle of the reception area.

“I cut work early to run some errands and I was passing by, so I thought I’d pop up,” you hum, placing a quick, sweet kiss on his lips.

“Well, I don’t want to be a bummer, but I gotta go to court soon for a discovery hearing.”

“It’s okay, Matt. I actually came here to ask Karen a question.”

Surprised little “oh”s escape both of their lips, turning toward one another one shock.

“I guess I’ll leave you to it. See you at home, sweetheart.”

“Bye, Matty. You’ll do great,” you say with a kiss to his cheek, waiting as he grabs his jacket and makes it out of the office.

“So what’s up?” Karen asks with a smile as she sits on her desk, and you move to match her body language.

“Well, I had an idea, but I don’t know if I should see it through,” you explain. “See, I wanted to do something for Matt for Christmas, but I don’t know if he’d get his knickers in a twist. I mean, I already got his present—which has been hell to hide from Mr. Super Senses—but I want to do a little something more for him.”

“Like what?”

You feel your cheeks burn hot, suddenly a little embarrassed. You don’t know why you are—you’ve talked to Karen about this kind of stuff plenty of times before, and she has to you. You just have that kind of bond and friendship.

“Well, there was a really cute Santa babydoll dress that I was thinking of getting, but I don’t know if that’d be weird for Matt—making Christmas sexy like that.”

“He’s never hinted around anything in that sphere?”

“Nope.”

“Well, I guess I can understand where that might be an odd thing on different fronts. Making something that shouldn’t be sexy sexy, and then the religious element.”

“So it’s a bad idea then, huh?”

“Maybe that one specifically, but I’m sure there’s another. It’s fun to do sexy holiday things like that. Frank and I love doing them.”

“You do?” you smirk.

“That’s a story for another time with lots of wine,” she laughs. “But I’d look for other options, you know? If anything, Christmas and Valentine’s Day are perfect for something like that because of the softer fabrics, and I know Matt has a thing about that. Just poke around. I can even go shopping with you, if you want.”

“I’ll browse, and if I can’t find anything, we can look together. I’m assuming you’re trying to do something with Frank?”

She blushes deeply. “Yeah. But he doesn’t have a thing too much about Santa, so maybe send me the link for that babydoll?”

You laugh loudly in the quiet office. “Sure thing, Kare.”

As you dry the dishes from dinner, you feel Matt slip his arms around your middle, pressing you flush against his back and holding you close, his chin on your shoulder as he nuzzles into your neck.

“I think I’m gonna stay in tonight,” Matt whispers against your skin. “It’s chilly out.”

“The Devil is scared of a little wind chill?” you smile, trying and failing to turn around in Matt’s grip from behind.

“He likes it a little warmer.“

“Poor thing,” you pout, craning your head to the side, giving him a kiss on the side of the nose. “You’d never survive New England winters.”

“Good thing we live in the best city in the world.”

“You know what I think?”

“Lay it on me, sweetheart.”

“I think my big strong devil is a snuggly, needy, softy. In all the best ways.”

“Me? Needy?”

“We’re all a bit needy, Matty. You, for example, need me.”

“That’s the understatement of the century,” he smiles, letting you turn around in his grip, holding the side of his face and kissing him properly.

“Well, I need you, too, so we’re perfect for one another. And, you’re my human radiator. Blankets don’t stand a chance against my man.”

“Can I get that in writing?” he smiles, his hands on your waist spinning you around to he can give you a kiss.

“Sure thing, baby,” you mutter against his lips.

“Let me put these away.”

“Dish duty is on me tonight. Don’t mess with the system, Matty.”

“Can the system go out the window for one night?”

“My creature of habit wanting to throw routine out of the window?”

“C’mon, angel.”

You lean forward once more, your lips meeting softly once more as you moan into the kiss.

“Okay,” you whisper, running your hands down his arms, moving from between the kitchen counter and his body and onto the couch.

Grabbing your laptop off of the coffee table, you whip it open and weed through your emails, deleting the copious and redundant notifications from different stores regarding sales, special memberships, and the like. Shortly after, Matt makes his way from the kitchen to the seat next to you, returning your computer to where you initially picked it up before he slides you into his lap.

“Hi sweetheart,” he whispers, placing a kiss on your neck.

“Hi Matty,” you hum, snuggling into him. “What do you want to do tonight?”

“What do you want to do? We can pop in a movie, play a game—.”

“You didn’t bring any work home?” you ask, surprised that’s night is completely free—including his Deviling duties.

“Not tonight. I wanted to focus just on you tonight.”

“Mm, that’s sweet.”

“What do you have in mind for tonight, angel?”

You let out a sigh as you rest your head on his shoulder, thinking about the different cozy home activities you could do together when a thought crosses your mind.

“I guess tonight is a good of night as ever,“ you hum.

“Angel?”

“I have an idea, but it’s a surprise.”

“You’ve managed to keep a surprise a secret?”

“Rude,” you chuckle, kissing his cheek as you move to turn and straddle his lap. “You stay right there, Mr. Murdock. And you swear to me on my boobs that you won’t use your senses to try and ruin my surprise.”

“You want me to swear on your boobs?”

“You know you love them. Swear on their softness that you won’t spoil the surprise.”

With a cheeky smirk, he spreads his large hands against your waist.

“I swear I won’t—,” he says into your right boob through your sweater with a kiss, mirroring the action on the other breast, “—ruin your surprise.”

“Thank you,” you hum, running your fingers through his hair, kissing his forehead before you get up, moving to the bedroom and closing the sliding door. Moving to your side of the bed, you pull out a box from underneath mattress, moving to slide on the satin bra and panty set you got from a local boutique. With the bra straps on properly, you tie the long satin tails that act as cups into a nice big bow, mimicking the motion for the ties that are on the hips of the matching panties. Whipping your head up and down to revitalize your hair from the day, you take a deep breath before you open the door, expecting to see Matt on the sofa.

“Matt?” you call as you move into the living space, looking around as you try to find where your boyfriend disappeared to into the apartment. “Matt, where ar—?”

“I need you to help me figure something out, sweetheart. Were you naughty or nice this year?”

Turning around in the dark apartment, your eyes finally focus at the top of the roof access staircase. In all his glory, Matt leans with a smirk against the old brick, bare chested with Santa pants of all things hanging low on his hips, the suspenders on the waist leaning haphazardly down, while a red fuzzy hat sits on his head.

“Your heart rate is telling me you might have made the naughty list this year, angel,” he says as his smirks grows, slowly descending the steps.

“N-No,” you stutter. “I’m just . . . Surprised by the outfit.”

“Why?”

The incoherent stutters that fall from your lips only make Matt laugh as he makes his way over to you, resting his hands on your waist and pulling you in for a kiss before resting his forehead on yours.

“Too much?” he whispers, his thumbs moving back and forth on your skin.

“No, not at all,” you tell him. “Like I said, I’m just surprised.”

“Why?” he tries again.

“I didn’t know how you’d be about sexy Santa. Actually, I didn’t know how you’d feel about making anything Christmas related sexy.”

“Well, it’s a little odd. The pants are really nice and soft, though. And, the way I look at it, we’re not making the root of Christmas sexy, just a commercial element sexy. Now, let Santa unwrap his gift,” he whispers, his voice at a dangerously rich and gravely timbre, his hands slipping down over the globes of your ass, squeezing the exposed flesh.

“Mm, but I thought patience helps you get on the nice list?” you hum as you begin to place slow kisses onto his chest, pulling him by his dangling suspenders to keep him close as you step back toward the bedroom. “Patience is a virtue, after all.”

“Virtue, suggestion,” he chuckles, moving his hands up to the side of your face to kiss you. “Please?”

“Well, since you asked so nicely,” you smile against his lips as he lies you down on the mattress, pillows at your head. “Open me up, Matty.”

“Mm, thank you, sweetheart,” he hums, his large hands gliding across the surface of your thighs and spreading you open, allowing him to get closer into your body. As his hands move up, his thumbs swipe against the satin of my bra. “It’s such a pretty bow. Hate to ruin it.”

“I can guarantee you, the things underneath it are prettier and softer.”

Matt lets out a soft “Ah”, his smile growing wide on his tender expression before he kisses you, pressing soft embraces down from your lips to your neck, and finally to your chest before his teeth take hold of the ribbon’s tail and gently tug it undone. You let out a little gasp, partially from the cool air of the loft, partially from the way the satin drags along the sensitive skin. Instead of using his hands like you expect, Matt nuzzles his nose against the fleshy mounds, placing little kisses all over the supple skin. You moan softly as he embraces your breasts, leaving no centimeter of the skin untouched, his lips desperately chasing the fatty flesh as it moves around. You gasp when you feel his large, calloused fingers graze the side of your breast as his mouth catches the other one between his lips, sucking at the nipple.

“So good, Matty,” you whine, the hot breath through his nose fanning over your chest as he opens his eyes and tilts his head up, working to lock eyes with yours. The Santa hat remains on his head, but only slightly. “Baby . . .”

Matt slowly pulls off of your nipple, moving to leave wet kisses all over the rest of your chest and up your neck.

“Can I unwrap the rest of my gift, angel?” he gravels, his beard scratching against your skin.

“Of course, Matty. But there’s something I’d like to do first?”

Wrapping your legs around his waist, you switch your positions on the mattress, letting the bra slide down your arms and off of your body. As you flick it to the side, you move down Matt’s body, grazing your fingertips along his pants, slowly moving to peel them off of his body. He lifts his hips up in an effort to help, letting you slide the velvety fabric off so it can join your bra on the floor. But before you can bend down and take hold of Matt’s rock-hard cock, he stops you.

“Hold on, angel,” Matt hushes. Your eyebrows pull together in confusion as he twists to the side and rummages through his bedside drawer. When he lays his back back down, you have to work not to laugh at the sight before your eyes.

“You are a stupendous dork,” you laugh, your smile so bright it lessens your view of him.

“What? It’s Christmas rules—kiss what’s under the mistletoe,” he smirks as he dangles a fake sprig of the weed over his semi-hard cock.

“Well, I can’t upset Christmas rules,” you chuckle, kissing his tip and all the way down to the base, repeating the motions all over his length. Somewhere in your process, the mistletoe doesn’t get held as high before it’s eventually on the ground with out other pieces of clothes.

“(Y/N),” he breathes.

“Yeah, Matty?” you murmur against his base by the patch of small, dark curls on his skin. “Can I suck you off, Matty? There’s no more mistletoe.”

“I need your lips around me, angel. Please.”

With a long lick, you bring your lips back up to the tip and slowly take him in your mouth, having to be conscious of his girth. Each bob of my head brings you down a bit farther on his length until you’re roughly an inch and a half shy of taking him all the way.

“Fuck, sweetheart, you’re so good,” he praises as he gathers up your hair, making sure you don’t swallow any of your locks as you go up and down. “So good for me, angel.”

The head of his cock his the soft flesh of the back of your throat, coating it with his salty precum, the movements only making you gag slightly. He helps you create opportunities to readjust as you go down on him, wanting to make sure you’re comfortable as you work. As you breathe through your nose, you bring your hands down to fondle Matt’s heavy sack, making sure he’s thoroughly taken care of. Between your hand and your mouth, you can feel every last ridge and vein that will bring Matt pleasure, and you briefly wonder if this is even a fraction of what Matt feels—being able to sense every last thing around him. Maybe you just know his body well enough. Whatever it may be, Matt guides you up and off of him by your hair, allowing a long line of saliva to connect from his dick to your chin. He pulls you into a a deep kiss, the embrace wet, needy, and sloppy with passion. As you straddle his waist while out tongues go back and forth, you can’t help but grind into his gorgeously defined muscles, spreading the slick pooling in your satin panties all over the fabric. Matt’s hands slide down to the globes of your ass, squeezing the flesh before giving both cheeks a firm smack, the sound echoing in the spacious bedroom as the sting spreads across your skin. You bite down on his lip as you kiss as response, which only makes Matt moan into your mouth, repeating the movement with his hands once more before he leans forward, your back returning to the mattress while his hands slide around to spread your legs wide.

“Do you want me to eat with your panties on, angel?” he teases as he kisses and marks up your inner thighs. “Would you like that, angel? Or do you want my mouth on your pussy and my fingers in you?”

“It wouldn’t be much of a present if you didn’t unwrap the rest of it,” you hum, biting your bottom lip as you watch him worship your inner thighs.

Dragging his fingertips up the sides of your legs, he finds the bows and pulls them undone, his hands sliding your hips up so you’re slightly off of the mattress. He grasps your panties with his teeth and slides it away from your body, only briefly removing his hands from your legs to take the fabric and throw it aside. His large, calloused digits are quick to move back between your legs, two of his fingers grazing and expertly parting your soaked lips. Matt brings his mouth close to your core, enough for you to practically feel his lips on you, only for him to hover just far enough away from you. He lets out a shallow breath from his mouth, pulling a sound that is part wanton moan, part erotic pornography sounds from you, as he coats your heat with his. When he is satisfied with his work, his lips wrap right around your swollen clit, gently sucking as his tongue slips in every now and then while he works.

“Fuck,” you choke out as he devours you, his beard tickling and scratching at your thighs. “Matthew!”

He just hums into you, sliding two fingers into your core while his other hand wraps around your hips to keep you down as your body begins to writhe and buck uncontrollably. He moans into your dripping cunt, which only makes you cry out into the room louder. Matt moves his tongue and mouth faster while his fingers tickle and scratch your inner spongy walls as his mouth rips a violent orgasm from you. You scream out at the top of your lungs as your body arches off the mattress, an entire sheen of sweat spreading over your skin as Matt relentlessly drags out your orgasm until the contracting muscles of your uterus physically hurt.

“Matty, Matty, oh God, Matt,” you groan, sounding like a woman possessed as he pulls his fingers out of you and releases your clit from his mouth, a line of slick connecting your core to his lips before licking his fingers clean and giving the swollen bundle of nerves a few gentle kisses. Matt places a few kisses on your inner thighs before going straight up your body and to your lips, holding your face in his hands as you kiss one another deeply and passionately.

“More, Matty,” you moan into his lips, pulling at his bottom lip between your teeth. “This gift isn’t over til you cum, baby.”

Matt laughs so warm and happily, it’s like the sun is in the bedroom.

“Whatever you say, angel. You are the gift giver, after all,” he affirms, his lips puckering all along your collarbone.

“Tell me how you want it, Matt. What position do you want, Matty?”

Matt licks a long line up your neck to the shell of your ear, his Santa hat no longer perched atop his head.

“I want you under me, on your back, your legs as far up as they can go, while I fuck you over and over,” Matt whispers in your hear, his voice deep and seductive in its commanding tone. “Can you do that for me, angel?”

“Yes, Matthew,” you breathe.

“Good girl,” he tells me with a harsh squeeze on my hips, his hands sliding back around your legs and bringing them as high up and as close to your chest as your body will allow. Matt slaps his cock repeatedly on your slick, swollen lips before he holds his dick steady as he pushes in, the angle of your legs making everything tighter and making you feel everything on a new level, making the feeling so extraordinary and increasing the pleasure. Bent in half like this, Matt easily hits your back wall and has no problem pounding into you over and over once he gets the angle just right. His strong arms help hold your legs in place, his hands cradling your neck, thumb on your cheeks as he brings his mouth to yours, kissing you deeply and repeatedly as he hits the special spongey spot in you again and again. Your hands grip his muscly arms, pressing little red and angry half-moon shapes of your fingernails into his fair and hairy skin.

“So fucking good, angel,” he grunts into your mouth. “Fuck, s’tight and wet.”

“God, you’re so big!” you whine.

“God isn’t here, angel. Just me, my cock, and your tight cunt.”

“Ma—aahhh! Just like that, Matty, right there!”

The way that Matt’s pelvis slams into the back of your thighs is insane, hitting every right spot over and over again as you start to see stars.

“Sounds like you’re close again, angel,” he grunts. “Are you gonna cum for me again?”

“Mmm!” you whine.

“Words, babygirl.”

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum!” you cry out.

“Squeeze my cock, angel. Cum for me.”

With one more hard thrust in just the right spot, you have another earth-shattering orgasm at the hands of your boyfriend. His grunts and the way his hips begin to falter tell you that he’s not going to last much longer if he keeps snapping his hips like that.

“S-Stay inside me,” you beg, holding onto his shoulders. “Fu—Cum inside me.”

Matt’s face contorts, his mouth hanging open and his brows furrowing in pleasure as he moans loudly, hitting deep and releasing his large load. You lie on the bed panting, impossibly close to one another as you both come back down to earth from your cosmic highs.

“Holy shit,” you breathe before you tilt your chin up and press a kiss to his pink, swollen lips.

“I know,” he chuckles with a little grin.

With a few more kisses, he leans back and pulls out to unfold you. As he does, you can feel his cum dribble out of your hole.

“Fuck, that smells nice, you and me together like that” Matt breathes as his thumbs rubs back and forth on your legs. “You’re so beautiful, angel.”

“You’re not bad yourself, there, Murdock.” Taking his hand in yours, you pull him back down on the mattress with you. “Did you like your gift?”

“I loved it,” he smiles, rolling into you for a kiss.

“I mean, I still have an actual gift for you, not just amazing sex.”

“Aw, you shouldn’t have,” he teases. “I love you.”

“I love you more. But I do have a question, though.”

“Mm?”

“Do you think we just got ourselves put on the naughty list for all of that?”

The room is silent before you both burst out in laughter and snuggle into one another.

“I think an exception can be made for us—we were doing something nice for one another.”

“A lawyer through and through, you are.”

“Merry Christmas, (Y/N).”

“Merry Christmas, Matt.”

Permanent Taglist: @majesticavenger @steampowerednightvaler @themusingsofmany @just-the-hiddles @toozmanykids @dangertoozmanykids101 @clints-worldavengers @theburningbookshop @itwasthereaminuteago @peter1ismybrother @hellskitchens-whore @dpaccione

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midnight1nk · 10 days ago

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So, this week's episode...

[Spoilers below cut]

oh my spaghetti gods.... they actually made the episode

Ha ha, I love that for them honestly. I figured that the Team would put out one of these after WOTFI, it would be either a regular silly episode, a "Mario Reacts", or a Remaster.

...OMG I haven't clicked on the episode and I just realized something: you know how at the end of WOTFI, Four proposed the idea of taking some of the abandoned stuff in Puzzle Park and bringing them to the Showgrounds? He can now have the teacup ride

that was slick as hell

(the following is my live reaction:)

of course, you GOTTA present the WOTFI merch

also james and luke just goofing around gives me serotonin :)

Mr Puzzles: "...Now you're 5% less disgusting to look at." :0 that has so many implications but I'm not gonna say it

ANYWAY That's-a so nice!

THE TEACUP RIDE

Alright, everybody who drew baby Four, we gotta get on it again

sorry,,, just them :)

also, Three, it was your idea dude

THE OATS "Now with less fun! :)"

just the way Four hid behind Three [*head in hands*] chat, I'm not going to make it by the end of this episode

The Star Trio (TM) everyone

...wait, does Three actually smell like peanuts or is it just for the meme? [*writes that down*]

Four: "My only suitable parental guardian!" Four, Karen's right there

I can't believe the retirement home is in America smh (like no seriously)

AY there's Old Man Hobo

this reminds me of that one scene from the "You Used to Be Cool" episode

(if you couldn't tell, Three's one of my favorite characters)

PFFT HAHAHAHA THEY KEPT THAT IN I'M DEAD DUDE

Three, why do you need medicine? you just got turned into an old man

MASTER OF DISGUISE

PINEAPPLE ON PIZZA?! MARIO WHAT HAVE YOU DONE, ITALY IS GOING TO REVOKE YOUR ITALIAN CARD

the nurse jumping out the window... [*thinks back at Mr Puzzles' Clubhouse when Max jumps out of the window*] sorry WOTFI flashbacks

anyway, they're adorable

huh i guess prison-UH I MEAN- the retirement home has a basketball court, who knew

HE DROPS THE SOAP I'M SO GLAD THEY KEPT THAT IN

...wtf is that slop?

also blue goo- [*loud airplane noises*]

Three: "Meggy? Is that you? You look uglier than usual-" DAMN well, it's good to know that you're still Three

The two frames-per-second running animation, ah a classic

BINGO NIGHT (no no Ink, bingo night was last week) (aw man)

Three, it was your idea bruh

also you're in the SMG4 universe for how many years? plot convenient devices are the norm, Three

HEY SWAG

Hal's here too!

they do be scheming

...wait [*DRAMATIC GRASP*] THE SONIC X THEME SONG!!! 🎶ROLLIN' AT THE SPEED OF SOUND (MAKE TRACKS) QUICKEST HEDGEHOG AROUND, GOT OURSELVES A SITUATION, STUCK IN A NEW LOCATION WITHOUT ANY EXPLANATION, NO TIME FOR RELAXATION-🎶 [*gets shot*]

despite everything, it's still you :)

if I had a nickel for every time an old guy says "No Mario, don't", I'd have two nickels. It isn't a lot but it's weird that it happened twice.

THE OATS CAME BACK FULL CIRCLE BABY

Frof the SnOATman :)

"On that day, the FBI learned the true meaning of Christmas: oats" SOMEONE MAKE THIS INTO A MOVIE

wait, FBI, you JUST noticed Four and the getaway car?

"dig a hole...poison the guards...KILL the the witness."

The hole, the poison, the old man being the "witness". Wow, Three's plan actually worked! Well, except for the "kill" part, the old man still lives. BUT STILL!

this part was actually emotional wtf

"Good to have you back, SMG3! ...SMG3?" aw 💙💜 (i ask for so little)

Three: "man, I think that was my dad..." Four, once again knowing they came out of USBs: "...ok"

CARNIVAL YAY you better not drop something on me bc (1) it's too soon and (2) you Team like to torture me

PFFT just putting Four's regular head on a baby body is everything

ferris wheel jumpscare

and AY james got to be credited for the writing (i mean, obviously)

And congrats to ggf0ur for having your art in the end credits 🎉

.・-: ✧ :--: ✧ :-・.

Another fun and silly episode, just what I needed after school work and WOTFI. Still can't believe they made it into an actual episode haha! Having the Star Trio in an episode is always a blast! I truly enjoyed this one.

As much as I find it funny that Four needed Three as a parental guardian to be on the teacup ride, it would be a bit better if the reason for the age gun was that they never got to be actual kids, unlike the rest of the crew. Then we could've gotten baby Four and Three, oh the possibilities. Maybe that's just me idk, but I'm happy with what we got.

And the Ferris wheel in the Showgrounds again, at this point it's a sign. I have to gather my thoughts together for my "Ferris Wheel Wedding" idea.

Fun Fact: for those who are wondering, the WOTFI website is surprisingly still up! Ofc you can't put submissions in anymore but I find it hilarious.

Fun Fact 2: the guy who made the faces for Mr. Puzzles has a proper Twitter now (link)! Go and show some support to the Team! I do want to bring it up because the Team may have made some editing/animation errors (like the subtitles having SMG4 instead of SMG3) and people are getting upset about that, but it's literally not a big deal. I know the Team is trying their hardest to bring out episodes every week. Besides, mistakes could go under the radar, it simply happens.

Now, if you excuse me...

DON'T BLINK, DON'T THINK, JUST GO GO G-G-G-G-GO GO (n-n-n-n-n-na, n-n-n-n-n-na) SONIC'S ON THE RUN, SONIC'S NUMBER ONE! SONIC, HE'S COMIN' NEXT, SO WATCH OUT FOR SONIC X! GOTTA GO FAST (SONIC), GOTTA GO FAST(SONIC)! GOTTA GO FASTER FASTER FASTER FASTER FASTER- [*gets shot again*]

#smg4 #smg4 spoilers #smg4 mario #smg4 smg3 #the star trio at it again #ink reviews #ok but #triples born *gets shot a third time*

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pensat-i-fet · 7 months ago

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Forever home (Ferran Torres x Reader)

**Little backstory. It was a friend’s birthday this week and I wrote this for her, hence why it’s birthday themed, and now she let me post it so you can all, hopefully, enjoy it ❤️❤️**

Word count: 1376

Masterlist

Wattpad

It was your love for animals that got you to meet Ferran in the first place, so when he was invited to visit the famous L’Oceanogràfic aquarium during a few days off he could spend in Valencia, he didn’t think twice and invited you to share the experience with him.

“How does it feel being around your family after so long?”

“What?”, Ferran's confused face was adorable. “I see my family all the time”.

“I meant the sharks. Aren't those your family?”

“Sure. Can you tell how much we look alike?”

He placed his head near where one of the sharks was swimming. It almost felt like it was posing too since it got closer to the glass.

“I don't know…the sharks are cuter”.

“You’ll always choose the animals over me”.

“But you're my favourite human”.

Taking his hand, you both walked around the place seeing all the animals. But sadly, you couldn't stay there longer. Or in Valencia.

The next morning, you had to drive back to Barcelona. Lots of people were travelling for the Easter holidays so you knew it'd be a longer trip than usual. You and Ferran were chatting and updating each other on what you're next few days’ schedule looked like.

“And I have to work on Tuesday. Can you believe that?”

“Yeah, so close to the Easter holidays. A lot of people are off work already…clearly”, he answered, looking at all the cars in front of yours.

“I meant…”, you were so thrown off by his comment. “Yeah, it's weird”.

Tuesday was two days before Maundy Thursday, so sure, it was two days before the Easter holidays but…it was also your birthday. Had Ferran forgotten?

“I brought snacks for the trip. Sour Skittles, your faves”.

Ferran's big smile made you forget how hurt you were for a second. “I love them. Thank you. You're so thoughtful”.

“You know…it's what couples do. Remember important things about one another and all that”.

“Speaking of that…”.

Your head turned quickly to look at Ferran, expecting him to mention the birthday. But he just placed something in your hand.

“A chocolate bar?”

“Not just a chocolate bar. It's salted caramel flavoured. I know you've been trying all of them to see if any actually taste like salted caramel. This is from Lindt so it's a good brand. When I saw it, I picked it up for you”.

“So thoughtful of you”, you whispered.

“I also remember what's important for you”, he winked.

Did he?

“It's good”, you told him after taking a bite. “Wanna try it?”

He nodded and you moved the bar so he could take a bite as well. “It doesn't taste like salted caramel, though”.

“No”, you sighed. “It seems impossible to get that flavour in this country”.

“We'll keep trying”.

Ferran leaned forward to kiss your cheek before driving again. Finally, the cars were moving.

The plan was the usual. You'd eat snacks and chat. Music was on so there'd be some singing going on too. But you just felt so moody seeing your boyfriend had forgotten your birthday. Even if it was a newish relationship, you expected him to remember the day you were born. He always seemed to worry so much about the little details, like the chocolate bars. But now he forgot the big details. Typical.

Life continued and you went back to work while Ferran was busy training and trying to be ready for the next match.

“You ok?”, asked one of your coworkers.

“Yeah. Just worrying too much about silly things”.

“I'm familiar with that. But I hope you aren't worrying about getting older tomorrow”, she laughed. “Are you doing anything fun for your birthday?”

“I don't think so…”.

“Will you go back to Valencia this weekend to see your family?”

You didn't plan on doing that but maybe it was a good idea. The plan was to stay in Barcelona and go see Ferran play but maybe it was time for a change of plans. At least your parents remembered your birthday.

Ferran didn't even mention staying with you on Monday night. His birthday hadn't even been a whole month before yours and you made sure you'd be there to wake him up and show him the gifts you got for him. You wanted to be the first person he saw when he woke up on his birthday…but also wanted him to be the first person you saw on yours.

“All my fault for creating these fantasies in my head”, you told yourself when you got into bed. “Always makes it easier to end up being disappointed”.

But you were being too hard on yourself...and on Ferran. Still, he wasn't the first person you saw when you woke up on your birthday. Or not the first animal at least.

“What is…”, the sound of breathing and purring near your face woke you up and when you opened your eyes, you saw the most beautiful little kitten staring at you. “How did you get here?”

“Oh, you're awake. Happy birthday!”, screamed Ferran, holding balloons in his hands and placing them near your bed. “I couldn't wrap your main present. Moves too much”.

He was still laughing when you sat up in bed and stared at the kitten. “He's mine?”

“She. And yes. I went back to the rescue we visited not long ago and they had already found a family for the older cat you loved so much so I looked around and…she was almost calling my name. I knew immediately she'd become your best friend”.

“I…”, you didn't even know what to say. The cat was a black kitten with white paws, like the one you had when you were a kid. But Ferran didn't know that and yet…he found her for you. It had been one of your worst days as a kid when your cat passed and you refused to have another black cat for the longest time, feeling like it’d mean you were trying to substitute your best friend. But now realised it wasn't like that. This was a new friend but you would never forget the previous ones.

“I thought you forgot my birthday”, you confessed while you tried to get the cat to sit on your lap.

“I know. It was a bit mean to do that to you but I didn't want you to find out I had adopted her and ruin the surprise. I picked her up yesterday morning and couldn’t leave her alone at home”.

“I guess I can forgive you. And thank you”.

“Anything for the birthday girl. I'm going back to the car to get all her stuff”.

“Her stuff?”

“Yeah. And you don't have to go to work today, by the way. I sent match tickets to your boss and now you can stay home”.

“Thanks! Your fame is finally useful”.

You took the little kitten in your hands and went to see what Ferran meant by stuff for the kitten. And then you saw him bringing a litter box, a cat tree, food, treats, toys, …

“Did you buy the whole pet store?”

“Ehh…”, he looked around and frowned. “I think I left a couple of toys for other kitties. But our little princess needs all of this”.

“We need to find a name for the princess first”.

“Right. Any ideas?”

“Umm”, you thought. “Has she done anything extra cute that we could use for a nickname?”

“She puked on my bed”.

“Adorable”, you chuckled.

After going back and forth over some names, and checking Google for more ideas, you both decided to name the little kitten Lulu.

Once that was sorted, it was time to play with her. She had so much energy…and Ferran bought so many toys. Lulu would get tired of all of them quickly wanting to try the other ones.

“This will be your forever home. Are you happy?”, you asked Lulu when she was purring and laying down on your lap after too much playing.

“I want you to be my forever home too”.

“Are you talking to me or Lulu?”, you joked, trying not to blush too much.

“Both…but mostly to you”.

“We want that too…and then we'll finally turn you into a cat person”.

#ferran torres #ferran torres x reader #ferran torres x y/n #ferran torres imagine #ferran torres one shot #ferran torres fluff #footballer fanfic #footballer imagine #footballer one shot #footballer x reader #footballer fluff

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melancholicbutterflies · 1 year ago

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a Papa Bear story

♡ PART IV ♡

Characters: Reader, Elvis Presley, Momma, Macy, Tommy, Danny, Mary

Summary: You get asked out on a double date with Macy.

Tags/Warnings: controlling!elvis, subtle themes of domestic violence

Word Count: 2,858

IT ALL HAPPENED so fast. You, Macy, Tommy, and Danny were talking one day after class, and Tommy had the bold idea to go on a double date. Him and Macy, you and Danny. Since the few weeks you'd seen each other at the Mall, you couldn't deny you were hoping something else would come out of it, but you never imagined it would happen so quickly, and the word date would be thrown around! Macy accepted on both of your behalf, and the matter was settled. Next Saturday you'd all go mini golfing and then to a diner afterwards. It would have been perfect if there weren't one not so tiny issue to deal with: you'd have to run the plan by your daddy first, who'd no doubt shut the whole thing down before you could say 'Jack Robinson'.

You waited on the ledge outside school for your momma to pick you up to go home. She was a little late getting there, but it gave you ample time to come up with some ideas to get your way. "Hey Momma," you greeted her, getting into the front seat.

"Hey, baby. What's got you so happy today?"

"Well, I got some good news."

"Good news? What's that?" She pulled away from the curb, glancing at you in curiosity.

"I got asked out. Well, not just me, but my friend Macy, too."

"A double date?" Momma whistled, "that's nice, dear. Your first one, right?"

"Yeah!"

"I'm real happy for you, baby. Not sure how your Daddy's gonna take it, though."

"Yeah..." You said quieter, fiddling with your hands on your skirt. "Actually, about that—"

"Oh no," she shook her head, interrupting you. "I'm not keeping this from him. He'll tan both our hides!"

"Well, no, not keep, per se, just if you could tell him real gently. Maybe he'd take it better from you. I... I really want this, and, and, he has a way of flying off the handle sometimes."

"Don't I know it. Listen, I'll break the news to him slow and gentle-like. I have my ways," she winked back at you. You had no idea what that meant, but you recalled the way he'd come out of their shared bedroom in a better mood than when he went in and figured it had something to do with that. Maybe your momma was magical. You wished she'd share it with you!

Later at dinner, which Elvis was able to be there for after getting a few days off from touring, your momma took over from Mary, the housekeeper, to serve him one of his favorite meals of all time, fried chicken with mashed potatoes and gravy. She did have Mary prepare a coconut cake, however, which would be served with dessert. Elvis slapped his hands together as he sat at the head of the table, grinning down as he was scooped his dish.

"Now this is a welcome home, honey," he smacked your momma's hide, although gently, causing her to blush as she went around to serve you, and then finally herself before sitting opposite Elvis at the other end. You sat adjacent to both of them. After saying grace, you all dug in; you were kicking your legs as you took in your first few bites. Your momma had surely outdone herself!

"Damn, oughta leave for longer next time," your step daddy groaned, eyes closing momentarily as he savored each bite. You pulled your fork away from your mouth which had some chicken pierced on it. "Don't say that, Daddy. I love having you home. We both do."

He turned to look at you fondly, holding your other hand under the table. "Oh, honey bee, I miss y'all too. I hate being on the road so long. It's real lonesome. And a helluva a lot worse on my stomach, too!"

You giggled, but out of the corner of your eye you saw your momma pinch her nose some. She always did that when she disagreed with something. Whatever it was, she decided to keep it to herself, and you figured it had to do with wanting to keep Elvis content when she broke the news.

"You slave away all day on this?" He asked. "No, not all day, but it passed the time. Was nice getting back into cooking again," your momma replied. Since you both came to Graceland to live with Elvis, he'd had his staff stay on and continue their jobs. Mary was in charge of cooking and other household affairs, and she took it very seriously. There was hardly a day your momma was allowed to cook, and while at first she loved the change of pace, she now missed the more mundane tasks.

"Well, if I didn't know any better I'd think you used my own Momma's recipe. She used to make this for me all the time back in the day." You of course had never known Gladys, but you heard so many good things about the woman. The way your daddy spoke of her she was practically a saint in his eyes.

"I'm glad you're enjoying it so much, dear."

"Mhm. Say, how was your day, darlin'?" He spoke to you first, eying you up as he kept shoveling food into his mouth. Your daddy sure could eat; as such he got the biggest plate, and he always finished what was put in front of him.

"It was good..." You said, glancing at your lap. "Yeah?" He hummed. "What was good about it?" You glanced at your mother in a way you thought was surreptitious, but only got your daddy's hackles up. "What was good about it, doll?" He pressed, now too glancing at momma.

"I'll tell you later, dear." Momma said as you too spoke: "I'm a bit tired," and that was a mistake, because Elvis stopped eating. Which was never a good sign.

"What happened?" He repeated. "Someone gon' tell me?"

There was an awkward pause, so quiet you could hear someone out mowing the many lawns of Graceland mansion. "Well?" Daddy's voice started to get testier. You figured it was better to be out with it; he was impatient and stubborn as a mule. He'd all too happily wait you out and be worser for it.

Momma spoke first: "Well, dear, Y/N here got asked out on a date. A double date," she emphasized, "so don't go blowin' anything out of proportion."

"Who said anythin' about blowin' anything out of proportion?" He said, strangely calm.

Momma opened her mouth, then closed it, choosing her words carefully as she too sat down her fork. "Well, you know, honey, I love you, but sometimes you can overreact—"

"Overreact? I'm perfectly able to hold my damn temper," he bit out the words, fist clenching around his napkin. It was utterly ironic, and you couldn't help the giggle that slipped from your mouth, much to momma's widened eyes.

Your daddy's head shifted to you so fast he might've gotten whiplash. "And you, lil' girl, what have you got to say for yourself? Huh? And what's so goddamn funny?!"

"Nothing."

"Yeah, don't sound like nothin'. Who is this boy, anyhow? Ain't I tell you to stay away from 'em? Didn't you promise me?"

"Elvis!" Your momma cried. "Now why would you tell her a thing like that—?"

"Shut your mouth, woman, I'm talkin'. Y/N, you're testin' my patience, speak up!"

Your good mood evaporated at his cold tone, and you saw your momma felt similarly hurt. He hadn't ever yelled at her from what you'd heard, and it wasn't something your real daddy ever did, so it frightened you some. You didn't ever think Elvis would lay a hand on you or momma, but his booming voice shook you to your core. You knew his mood could turn on a dime.

"Uh... U-um..."

"What," he said it like 'wot', his southern twang coming out more in his anger. "Out with it!"

"You're scaring the poor girl," Momma interrupted again, quickly silenced by a glare cut her way.

"H-he's just a boy from school. We're in the same grade together."

"Gimme a name."

"Danny," you whispered.

He stroked his chin, which was developing a five-o'clock shadow. "And how'd ya... hatch this lil' plan o' yours?" He sneered.

"Well, it wasn't really me—"

"Don't lie to me, hunny, you're already on thin ice!"

"I'm not," and you looked him in the eye as you said this. "It was another boy—"

"Another boy? How many boys you been talkin' too?!"

"Oh, Elvis, let the girl speak!"

"Didn't I tell you—"

"Enough!" You shouted. Both of your parents looked at you as if you'd gone crazy. Maybe you had. But you didn't like this! Your daddy had only barely come home and he was already ruining everything!

"Y/N," Momma cried in shock as Elvis went, "Oh, you're in for it now, Y/N Presley!" And you believed him, because he rarely used your name, preferring a term of endearment, and he never, ever used your full name. But all your feelings caught up to you then: you were angry he didn't understand you, and sad that he was being so mean to you and momma, and that he'd probably ruin this shot at happiness for you when you didn't even get to experience it. It was all just so unfair!

"Lil' girl, don't you dare run away from me!" Elvis warned, but you had already taken off, getting a head start that allowed you to climb the stairs faster and slip into your bedroom, shutting the door and locking it behind you. This was another one of your daddy's rules you'd broken: leave your door open, so that he can check on you. You imagined locking it was the equivalent of all hell breaking loose. At this point you didn't care, and besides, daddy was already so furious with you, so what was one more nail in the coffin?

You heard the doorknob jerking from left to right as you laid in bed with the covers over your head, sobbing. Faintly you heard your step daddy order you to 'open this door right now, or else!' You kept shouting 'no' and cried louder. Finally, Elvis seemed to give up, for it grew real quiet and the shadow under the door disappeared. You cried yourself to sleep that night, hugging your big bear to you that Elvis had won at a county fair one summer. It was your favorite bear, and even if you were angry at its owner, it made you calm down enough to fall asleep.

The next morning you slept in, wanting to delay the inevitable as long as you possibly could. Finally, the smell of pancakes and bacon roused you from your bedroom; your stomach was gurgling loudly from not having gone to bed early without finishing dinner. And you knew Mary made the best breakfast in town.

As you crept downstairs, rubbing your eyes, you heard your parents talking in hushed tones, heads bent towards each other. They lifted as they caught you coming around the corner. "Look who's up," your momma said, smiling tiredly. "How'd you sleep?"

Your eyes flit to Elvis, who looked not at all like himself. For one thing, he usually slept in later then you, so even half past eleven was early for him. But more than that, he looked defeated and continued to distance himself from you. You'd hoped he'd calmed down since last night, maybe even come around some. At least he wasn't yelling at you or momma anymore.

"Y/N?" Momma tried again to get your attention.

"Oh, quit you're worryin'. The girl looks fine ta me," Elvis muttered. "Certainly took her time comin' down here. Ain't realize we were such horrible company to keep. "

Momma frowned at him, sighing. "Oh, dear, don't be that way." She'd never say so, but she was starting to feel like there were two children she had to take care of in this household.

"And what way am I bein'?" He groused. She didn't bother answering, knowing it wasn't a fight he'd ever let her win. "I'm goin' back upstairs. Didn't sleep a wink last night."

"But you've barely eaten!"

"I lost my appetite," he bit out, striding past you, monogramed bathrobe whipping past him, stirring some air around you in his hasty departure.

You felt real awful, felt some tears accumulating at the corner of your eyes; you hated to see your daddy so upset with you, and it didn't look like it was anything you could do about it. He'd just have to cooldown. You worried you might have lost your close relationship with him in the process, though. Momma quickly came to comfort you, "Oh, don't cry, baby. Your daddy's just... havin' a hard time comin' around to the fact that you're growing up is all."

"That's it?"

"Yeah. He just needs some time alone right now." She looked at you. "For some reason he's got it set in his mind that you shouldn't be around boys. Said it wasn't proper, and was insisting on maintaing your purity."

"Purity?" You questioned.

"It's got to do with his religious habits, I 'spose. Anyway, I said that's not right to shelter a growing girl like that, she'd only resent him for it and be even more curious to seek out that attention from boys in ways that are even worse. Hell, it's what I did. Your grammy didn't even want me going to school with other kids and decided to homeschool me."

"Really? I didn't know that momma." She nodded. "Over time it caused a rift between us, and it wasn't until I was on my own for several years that we repaired it and I saw where she was comin' from, although I still didn't entirely agree with the way she went about it."

"Still," she went on. "Maybe I shouldn't a' said that, because he got himself all wrapped around the axel again at the idea of you following after me in that way and he went and spoiled his breakfast." She shook her head, laughing a bit. "Live and learn, I guess."

This was a lot of information for you to take in. "What should I do?" You asked pleadingly. "I hate to have daddy so upset with me. We never fight like this..."

"Just give him time," she reminded you. "And for God's sake, don't let this delicious breakfast go to waste!"

Later that day, Daddy was sitting out on the lawn tanning, reading a book. It had an angel on the front and you figured it had to be another one of his religious ones. He was always reading them. "Hey Daddy, can I talk to you?"

He didn't immediately do or say anything, and you thought he was now giving you the silent treatment, but finally he laid his book flat on his chest, peering over at you with a raised brow. "I'm listenin'," he said.

You shuffled back and forth on your feet as you tried to think of what to say to move past this rift between you two. You didn't want to give up your burgeoning freedom, but it was worse having him stay mad at you like this; you just couldn't bear it any longer.

"'M sorry for hurting you like I did last night. It was all so new and... and, I didn't even know what I was really saying yes to. I just wanted to fit in but none of that matters if I don't have my daddy anymore."

Some of what you said might've been the right thing, for he opened his arms wide to fold you into his embrace. "You have me, honey bee, you have me. But thank you for sayin' that, baby. I hate fightin' too, and I missed ya somethin' real awful. You know we ain't ever gone to bed mad? And I don't wanna start now." He began peppering you with kisses to your cheek and forehead, no longer held back. It made your heart sing to be close again with your daddy; when he was sweet like this to you there was no one that made you happier on earth.

"But ya gotta understand why I was so angry with you, pumpkin. Ya know that, right?"

You picked at his shirt where the buttons lay open on his big hairy chest. "Yeah, daddy, I know."

"I need to hear you say it, darlin'." He picked up your chin to look him in the eye with his forefinger.

"It's 'cause I disobeyed you."

"And how did you disobey me, hunny?"

"I agreed to go on a date with a boy."

"That's right, baby." He kissed you some more, real sweet-like. "Why's that wrong?"

"Because...because they're trouble and I'm a special girl, and you don't want nothin' bad to happen to me."

He hummed, looking like a weight was lifted off him. "That's right, satnin. My special, innocent little girl." He patted my hair with a smile so wide it made my heart hurt.

taglist:@everythingelvispresley@dkayfixates@animalloverthingsss@suspiciousmindsxo@iloveelvis@18lkpeters@doll-elvis@ccab@elvisalltheway1@satninroses@darkmoviesquotespizza@jaqueline19997@louisejoy86@myradiaz@velvetelvis@sillybookmarks@alllriseabove@livelaughelvis @blog777e @kissforvoid @lillyrob @whatstruthgottodowithit @ashtag6887

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jq37 · 9 months ago

Text

The Report Card – Fantasy High Junior Year Ep 6

Post Shrimp Jump Conspiracy Board Special

Hey y’all! Welcome back to Seacaster Manor where the shrimp party is still raging and the Bad Kids are balancing being cooler than ever with some serious sleuthing. We get a lot of new information this episode so I wanted to try out a new format for this week. I often talk in a metaphorical way about putting items up on a Conspiracy Board but I want to actually try that now that we’re a little over a quarter of the way in and have multiple overarching things happening. This is going to be a lot less linear than usual but bear with me. Gotta shake things up a little so I don’t get burnt out! There’s still fourteen more episodes to go!

The Rat Grinders

The Bad Kids’ de facto rival party got a lot of screen time in this episode, which makes sense: Adaine declared the party their nemeses over Goldenhoard or anyone else they’ve fought, which is saying a lot. Before this point, we knew the following facts about them:

1) They got their name because the only enemies they’re recorded as killing are low level ones (including rats) that they grind in the woods behind the school, showing a willingness to follow the letter but not spirit of the rules but also an impressive amount of dedication.

2) Their leader seems to be rogue, Kipperlily Copperkettle who is type A as hell and has a LOT of free time to kill having found the rogue professor (or at least having the rogue professor find her). She’s running for class president on a platform based around “fairness” which is a theme that’s come up more than once this season.

3) Also on the team are emo Bard Reuben (who seems to be related to the new Artificing teacher and who shares an agent with Fig) and nonplussed Barbarian Mary Ann (who is buffing herself magically somehow).

4) Kipperlily specifically asked about where Kristen was able to create a new god. Now how, where. An odd question.

This episode, we learned a lot more, so let's throw them on the board and make some connections!

5) The Rat Grinders have a new cleric named Buddy Dawn (something Kristen’s brother mentioned two episodes ago). He’s from Highcourt and moved with his grandparents. He’s got super Mormon+Southern “Bless Your Heart” energy and Kristen doesn’t like how familiar it feels. His vibes are clocked as well meaning but kinda judgey.

6) Buddy Dawn was *specifically requested* by the party. Of course, requesting a cleric isn’t weird–why wouldn’t you want one? And Helioism seems a pretty common religion in the region so odds are good that if you get a cleric is would be a Helioic one. But, paired with KP’s question about Kristen, it makes you wonder if the plan is to recruit a Kristen expy and try to get lightning to strike twice.

7) At the beer pong table, we meet the RG’s archer who is an elf named Ivy Embra. She’s got some flirty, catty energy (which we see when she interacts with Fabian and Mazey respectively).

8) We also meet the party wizard, Oisin Hakinvar, who is a Conjuration specialist with a focus in summoning. He’s a blue dragonborn which means that he has a great great great (etc) blue dragon ancestor he can ping when he needs barrels of diamonds, no problem. He has so many in fact that when Adaine lies badly that she’s also swimming in diamonds, he kindly offers to let her borrow some of his “extras”. But she turns them down, calls him great, and then panics and runs away to commiserate with Fabian who is also panicking about a flirty moment with Ivy. Oisin, for his part, seems driven to distraction and can’t make a single other shot all night. Cute! But–

9) As much as I want to wholeheartedly love Oisin (and honestly do and will until I am given direct evidence to change my mind) I have to point out that KVX, known evil bank, did change its logo from red (Goldenhoard’s color) to blue (Oisin’s Ancestor’s color) and there is a shot in the trailer of the party fighting a blue dragon. Connected? Maybe.

10) From investigating some yearbooks, the party also learns that the Rat Grinders have existed since Freshman Year but, at the time, they were called the High Five Heroes. They all look a lot more smiley and a lot less intense–Rebuen’s not even emo. It was the lineup from above, minus Buddy and plus a frost Genasi cleric named Lucy Frostblade. They learn that she supposedly died in their Sophomore year but specifically during a period near the end of the year where grades are locked and it wouldn’t affect their party comp which is…convenient.

11) Fig tries to investigate this by disguising herself as Lucy and seeing how Ivy and Oisin react. Only Ivy sees her but she doesn’t seem shocked at all to see her allegedly dead party member She just raises an eyebrow and ditches the game to talk to her. Fig bails (and rolls only a 12 to stealth away) so we don’t get any extra info but just the fact that Ivy reacted that way is pretty juicy info as is.

12) The other Rat Grinders don’t seem to be at the party but the members are skeptical about that. On the other hand, when Ivy leaves, it’s because Oisin pulls her aside and says, “Kipperlilly’s calling”. So it’s possible there was a Team A and a Team B for whatever the Rat Grinders were doing that night?

13) And speaking of what they're doing, we do have a theory. When Fabian checks some damage in the basement where Max and some other kids were smoking "gorgenfern" he sees that something called a cloud rider engine was smashed up pretty bad and in a suspicious way–gorgenfern doesn’t make you rowdy. Fabian checks the security tapes he obviously has and sees that some ice mephits came in and riled people up to the point of crashing into the engine. Adaine conjured some earlier in the party and as far as her arcana check can tell, they’re here, but there’s suspicion that Oisin–a conjuration wizard–could have done it. It’s certainly within his skillset. A cloud rider engine allows a vehicle to fly on clouds and it’s not clear if it was simply smashed or if something was stolen from it.

14) Max isn’t a Rat Grinder but he did ask them all if they wanted to smoke with him and Ivy offered Fabian snuff so Riz is suspicious that the RG’s are trying to get them kicked out of school for drug use now that they have a non-Aguefort principal who presumably cares about silly rules like that at the murder school.

That’s basically what we know about the Rat Grinders! So, to sum it up, I’d say the conspiracy board bullet points are:

Supposedly dead cleric Lucy Frostblade: What actually happened to her and why isn’t Ivy surprised to see “her”?

New cleric Buddy Dawn: Why was he specifically requested?

The High Five Heroes: What caused them to turn into the Rat Grinders? And, as they seem like they were more gung ho their first year, why did they never pivot to fighting things other than low level monsters?

Do they actually have beef with the Bad Kids specifically or are their vibes just terrible? Were they trying to sabotage them by offering drugs? Did they break the engine on purpose and, if so, why?

Oisin: Is he chill or is he working an angle? That question technically goes to Ivy as well but I’m almost certain she’s fully working an angle, lol. I’m getting straight up Aelwyn vibes from her.

Class President: What is KP’s angle re: running for class president? This seems like something she’d want to do either way with her personality but her policy of fairness dovetails too neatly with Grix’s appearance and Cassandra’s inability to say the phrase, “It’s not fair,” last episode.

How did KP find the rogue professor and is that relevant?

And finally, why did KP want to know about where Kristen created her Freshman year god? Well, that question may be partially answered in our next section.

God Stuff

There is a lot going on this season with celestial shenanigans between Cassandra and Galicaea and even Yes! So let’s mark out what we know.

1) Cassandra was possessed by some kind of rage entity via crystal shards that were expelled from her body. Her status is kind of up in the air right now as the party was shunted away to safety by Connor Counterspell (RIP) and all Kristen has left of Cass are some glowing, purple shards.

2) Earlier in the fight, while lucid, Cassandra said, “I thought you were dead” about some unseen entity. Later, Kristen heard from a creepy voice that said, “She is at my side once more”. It then threatened her and slid out the rotting corpse of Yes! as a sick joke. Likely that these are the same person or at least connected.

3) Gorgug identified that the rage stars are similar to what’s going on with Ragh’s mom, Lydia so it was put on the docket to get in touch with her about that–especially because Kalina specifically told them to track down Ragh with her last lucid words.

4) Tracker’s Galicaea rebrand is going really well. Her social media is really popping and the endless night probably didn’t hurt.

5) Kristen on the other hand, hasn’t been doing so hot. Due to a bunch of negligence based in lack of time management and personal uncertainty, she hasn’t been evangelizing much which means only she and Craig stand between Cass and her permanent destruction.

6) Kristen can’t contact Cass telepathically and says she can’t use her magic which is Not Great if you're as danger prone as the Bad Kids.

Alright, that’s all the old business so let’s move to the new business.

7) When Kristen talked to her parents, we learned that Helio doesn’t have a chosen one since she left but we learn that it’s more serious than that. Helio also can’t choose a new chosen one. He only gets one. With Kristen gone, the whole religion is without a chosen one.

8) At a certain point, Tracker finally gets a hold of Kristen and says some harsh but true things about Kristen but, more relevant to the conspiracy board, she talks about her girlfriend Nara and Adaine, as a fellow high elf, clocks her as coming from a family of moon goddess clerics in Falinel. That raises the question: is this run of the mill teenage rebellion a la the theme song, or is she some kind of plant? We’ll hopefully get some more info from Aelwyn since Adaine texted her about it.

9) The real juicy stuff happens when we talk to Ragh’s mom. The fiend in Lydia's gem is called Bakur. Her having him in there doesn't make her rage--she's raging to keep him trapped but that's it. Her personality is the same.

10) Bakur was a pit fiend and the right hand guy of a dead god whose name we don't know (hmm, another dead and nameless god). Bakur can't even say the god's name. It's like, weird god rules and Lydia explains in a weird vague way: gods not being able to use loopholes and saying names being powerful and rules changing for non-mortals when gods die.

11) The one very concrete info we get is that a god can only come back in a place where they were born or created. The reason Bakur’s plan failed is that he tried to bring back the nameless god in the Red Waste and not where they were created.

12) Rana (Lydia’s party cleric) is away and Cormyr (the party sorcerer) is dead but Lydia offers to put the party in touch with Rana and Cormyr’s family because they have more stuff related to this and they were the ones who knew more about this than her.

Following? Good. So let’s distill this down to bullets again:

Holy Helio. The corn god doesn’t have a chosen one anymore because Kristen up and left. What does that mean in a concrete sense? What can a chosen one do that a normal cleric can’t? Is Helio gonna ask Kristen to do anything this season now that we know that this is a special position that only one person can fill? Is it until she dies (or at least dies for real)? Would a fanatical Helioic person try and kill Kristen to open up that slot?

KP specifically asking WHERE Cassandra was created seems clearly tied to the info Lydia gave about only being able to resurrect a god where it was created. But what does that mean exactly? Is she trying to resurrect the same god as Bakur? Did she just assume that wherever Kristen made her god is probably where most gods are made and, thus, her best bet? What’s her angle? Is this an evil plan for just a “this will get me a good grade” plan?

Where in the world is Cassandra right now? She is MIA right now which means Kristen’s powers are too. Though I wonder if she can draw on those shards to cast spells.

We obviously can’t be sure but it seems like the voice Kristen heard and the person that Cass thought was dead is likely that unnamed god. What’s his deal? I’m sure we’ll have more info for this bullet soon.

Is Tracker’s new girlfriend Nara, much like Ecaf, a turncoat?

With Helio, Cass, and Galicaea all being in the mix, is there any kind of family angle being played. It doesn’t come up a ton but they are very much related.

MISC

This is a section for a few points that don’t yet fit under the main two headings of the season but still need to go up on the board.

Why would Aguefort program a robot that acts like Grix? Is he supposed to be like or is he hacked? If he is hacked, who would be able to do that? The new artificing teacher? The old one?

We learn that Aguefort has made a lot of contradicting proclamations and all of them are canon, so you’re able to pick and choose what you want to cite (I feel like I’m in law school again). Lots of room for loopholes which could be useful later.

Adaine, while very drunk, had an oracle vision of Kristen at a birthday party, giving a victory speech to a bunch of teens on election night as a crescent moon hangs in the sky. The Crescent moon potentially gives them a time frame if they look into it (and it specifically being mentioned makes me think of Galicaea even though not every moon thing has to be connected to her). And we know Gorgug’s birthday is near the Frosty Folk festival so maybe that’s why the hats.

Speaking of, we know there’s a connection between Riz’s mom defending someone for money crimes re: that Festival and Gorgug’s parents hosting it so that’s something to remember.

This isn’t something for the pin board per se but this season introduces a stress token system for downtime! I’m sure I’ll talk about it more when we use it for the first time next ep but, for now, gotta say he’s really ramping up the pressure on our kids! And, to that point, let’s do a quick check in with everyone and see what they’re up against!

Character Board

Adaine

-Adaine is still facing major money troubles. After last episode, not only is her job terminated, but she actually owes 2.5 gold for her uniform.

-It looks like she might be developing a bit of a crush on the cute dragonborn (yay) but he’s a Rat Grinder (nooooo). I will say though, cross party romance could be a lot of fun and also my favorite NPC in this show is Aelwyn whose top 2 traits are famously Criminal and Loves Adaine so I am honestly fine with this either way lol.

-Speaking of Aelwyn, I’ll put the sister stuff together: When Adaine calls her to ask for dirt on Nara she says, “Working, will call in five.” And when Adaine questions the fact that it's 5am on a Saturday, Adaine just gets a winky face emoji back. Suspicious!

Fabian

-Fabian has to juggle the new 150% course load (bard/fighter) as well as his new party house reputation.

-He has a lack of adult supervision which also means a lack of adult care and it seems to be affecting him more than he’s willing to let on.

-But honestly his biggest obstacle is probably himself right now, lol. He made himself a new nemesis in Gertie Bladshield and I am not confident he can handle this honey trap mission with Ivy without the tables being turned on him.

Riz

-Riz is also facing money troubles, but for him that’s kind of business as usual unfortunately.

-He has a TON of extracurriculars to keep track of but he so far seems to be handling it pretty well and is picking up some interesting allies (that double as votes for Kristen’s campaign–campaign manager is also an extracurricular he’s taken up): the aforementioned Gertie Bladeshield (Apiary Club), Sprak LeFevre (Aviation Club), and Molman Holden (Soil Club). Always good to have new allies and Aviation Club seems like it could be really useful later! I can see him making some luck checks to successfully say, “I know a guy” in a tight spot based on how many clubs he’s joined.

-He also has the Reliable Talent ability now which means he’s incapable of rolling lower than a 21 on things he’s proficient in which includes Investigation. We’re about to be getting some INSANE lore dumps.

Gorgug

-Gorgug has his insane 400% courseload happening and I didn’t notice this until it was pointed out to me but Zac actually leveled Gorgug DOWN in Barbarian to take an extra level of Artificer! That’s commitment. But I can’t imagine Porter, who already has a problem with him, is gonna like that.

Fig

-Fig would hate it if I didn’t start this list by saying that she hella misses Ayda and that’s her biggest problem.

-But she also has her album to worry about and we actually get the bombshell during a conversation with Mazey that she’s not even sure that she still wants to be a bard.

-On top of that, she’s taking Barb and Warlock classes along with the Bard classes she’s finally going to.

-She has her gnarly Gilear curse happening that’s seemingly connected to whoever the boss who owns the pride armor is.

-She has beef with Rebuen and is living her double life as Wanda Childa to try and learn whatever she can about him/the Rat Grinders.

-Both she and Wanda are wanted by the Solace FBI.

-On a positive note, she really endeared herself to Mazey by sweetly sticking up for her when Ivy was being catty. If Fig wasn’t so devoted to Ayda I could have read their interaction at the end of the ep as flirty. Regardless, nice moment and great ally.

Kristen

-Welp, her god is, if not dead, MIA which is arguably the biggest deal of anything on any of these lists, especially since it’s tied to her magic AND her grade.

-Next of course is the potato to her meat on her plate: her campaign. But that’s actually going really well, especially after this party. Her biggest issue is whether or not she can get Fetty Wap to homecoming and, lbr, in a pinch Fig can just disguise herself as him. When has that ever not worked?

-She also has this unnamed god (or whoever it is) taunting her and threatening her specifically which isn’t ideal.

-But I honestly think she was more fucked up by the conversation which Tracker where her ex basically outlined everything she needs to get together in her life and then posted a pre-written pic with her new girlfriend. That’s gotta sting.

And that’s it! I wanted to focus on the specific nuggets of info we got this episode and start to connect them with what we knew so far. Different format, I know, but I’m feeling experimental this season and I might switch it up a few more times as Junior Year goes on. I love covering Fantasy High but, like I said at the top, I have to keep it fresh so I don’t burn out. See you next time when Brennan makes the stress we’re all feeling an actual game mechanic! Fun!

#Dimension 20 #dimension 20 spoilers #d20 #d20 spoilers #fantasy high #fantasy high spoilers #fhjy #fhjy spoilers #spoilers #the report card #when I started doing these no one was doing proper recaps #now other outlets are and I'm thinking pivoting to commentary rather than straight recaps might be more fun #but I'll see how I feel

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kitty-kitty-boomba · 6 months ago

Text

Hi Honey! Welcome home!

omogomgomgomgomg-

AMAB! Sevika x Reader- BUT IN REVERSE

JUST HEAR ME OUT-

Also- this shit is long as hell. Like, I'm actually so sorry. P.S- I ran out of steam after I explain the situation, so respectfully? Writing is a tinie bit trash- But just a little! Also, no rlly proof-read sorryyyy

18+! MDNI

Please enjoy and let me know your thoughts!

Sevika and you have been married for four years now- and today would be your anniversary. You were actually celebrating being together for 10 yrs, your argument being that knowing each other as friends still counts. Sevika didn't care so as long as she had you, so she was all gun-ho for whatever you wanted as long as she got her "alone" time with you. Point is, you been planning for this day a lot. Like- for two weeks straight- a lot. Honestly, planning has never been this hard for you. Which is funny, because planning a wedding and the fattest after-party is no joke. For other people, what you were doing is arguably too much. But there is no such thing when it comes to your lil' mamma [i'm srry].

To break it down, you were going to spoil her like she spoils you. And thanks to her Ovulation days starting right in the first two days before the anniversary- you weren't going to have an issue fucking her stupid and taking charge for the night. That was your ultimate goal out of everything- but nobody knew that but you. [lies- Sevika knows. we'll get back to that.]

1st: You would start with Breakfast in bed and kisses. Give a massage if she likes. Really just seduce her, and mayybe give her a baby edible so she's near putty because otherwise, she'd spoil it for herself. After she got her mandatory cuddle session, you'd tell her you have to give your mom something. You'd send her off to hang with the kids a bit before stealing her- promising you wouldn't pass 5 o'clock because duh.

2nd: Literally everything else.

Thankfully, the two weeks was just you trying to see what Sevika wanted as a meal and not you picking out a theme to decorate with. Decoration was easy: Dim lighting via the fancy light switches you had Sevika install years ago, fake rose petals, real roses for the vases, regular candles for the dinning table, and a few vanilla scented candles for the bedroom. [your like for vanilla rubbed off on her. you didn't want kill more roses. you love roses, you like flowers in ur in vases and said vases are empty. you will be too busy fucking, you aren't burning the house down with candles]

Sevika- like the little shit she is- tried her damnedest to distract you from your spoiling mission, because of course she is. She acted all seductive and fucked you anywhere-anytime so you'd forget about whatever you had planned. The only way you got your answer was letting her fuck you until she collapsed. She could barley think straight, and while you weren't any better, you mumbled the ask just for her to say the dish you both have been eyeing for a while. You figured she'd want that, but you still wanted to make sure.

Secretly- at least that's what you thought, we'll get 2 that too- You shopped all the ingredients for it two days before. [You hid it in the Last Drop's fridge for a day before taking it back home. Vander, Silco, and Ran were Angels- Helping you by getting the kids to not mention the weird selection of groceries and keeping Sevika from opening it herself]

You also planned to get the homemade chocolate from her grandma's, Amelia: Yours and Sevika's favorite sweets of all time.

The last thing was dress up, which again, also wasn't hard. Sevika always dressed nice because she knows how much the little things mean to you. It was you who was freaking out on what to wear. You took to your mom, asking to get dressed at her house because you were worried Sevika would find the clothes. You wouldn't be wearing them long, but this was a semi-surprise so you were doing the grand reveal bit. You were torn between a dress like usual, or spicing things up and surprising your wife by matching her style a bit and wearing a suit. Ultimately- your mom silenced your worries by saying that Sevika would love to see you with a tailored suit on. She got you one as her anniversary gift. You just about cried.

3rd: Execute said planned and get fucked. That's it. Your not sure way you wrote that in the list- that's something that's literally impossible to not do with Sevika as your wife... But who cares?

During the planning, you were buttering Sevika up. From high-end Whiskey and Scotch, to flowers and chocolate, you were laying it on thick. You know it takes Sevika a minute to warm up to pampering- even if the minute was just her trying to distract you- so you happily continued and waited until she gave you nothing but a whine when you dissolved her into putty.

On the night before though- you had a mini-break down.

You did a facetime call with Amelia and your mom, out on your balcony trying to stop tearing up and keep your voice down as you voiced how nervous you were. Would the food come out good? Would it even come out at all? Would you burn it- or maybe do something else to mess it up? Could you even decorate and get dressed in time? Did you have to do hair, make up, and clothes before hand to cut down time? What if you sweat it all of or smell like steak! What if-!

They silence you quickly. They're helping you with the little things, so why not a bit more? They don't have nothing important for that day besides sending little gifts with you. So, you all agree to take a job. The food is meant to be cooked closer to when Sevika expected to be home, but if you got nervous, you could cook and Amelia would bud if you needed her and put everything in the oven to keep them fresh until they had to leave. Your mom would help decorate if necessary, and your hair will be the first thing done and pinned up in pin-curls so it would beautiful after you get dressed. Easy peasy- and if not- they'll make it happen for their favorite girl.

That helped more than you could ever say, and you slept real nice that night thanking the powers that the sleep aids you gave Sevika kept her sleepy so she wouldn't spoil anything. Little did you know, they weren't working for you.

Sevika had both them, Vander, Silco, and Ran recruited to keep you thinking you were being slick. She tricked you and picked the dish you wanted almost since the month started because she wanted you to enjoy the meal too- plus, that steak looked freaking amazing in the cookbook picture. The whole resistance to your pampering was Sevika being her beautiful self. She allows tons of things, but that type of love is hard for her to receive. So on top of watching you, she pampered you her own way by loving on you a lot more and giving you cash to spend. You kept saying you don't need it, but that shy smile and the blush blooming all over you was more than enough to keep it coming.

The smug sex-distraction part was improvised at first, because there was no way she could keep her hands off you for more than two seconds. But after it became clear it was working- Who is she to not take advantage?

So, as you planned- she planned.

She'd let you take it away, whatever decore you wanted, and anything else. She felt a bit bad for going behind your back after you spent time trying to make things perfect, so she transferred money into you account everyday and kept saying it was her "early anniversary gift". She didn't hear the conversation, but they called and told her the morning of that you were very excited, aka their way of saying her poor baby is stressed out. She was ready to tell everyone to spill the beans- but after all you've done, she really wanted to treat you.

And treat you she did.

Come the morning of, she lets do your thing, it was hard not too.

But after you do your whole spiel and send her off- both plans go into motion.

She did her everything shower, oiled up, and scented herself to the gods with that smokey, musky, amber/vanilla date-night scent you adore on her. After, she went to The Last Drop. Ran did Sevika's hair, nails [prosthetic too], and makeup, shit-talking and drinking with their best friend to calm her nerves. They even helped attach the new "skin" Sevika made for her arm, The smooth arm-like copper remined them of the one she made for her wedding day, just a bit less ornate. This is the most she's done since her wedding day, and a part of her felt completely ridiculous because she's long since forgotten how getting extra dressy felt. She doesn't understand what's become of her right now, but she feels to giddy to crush her sparking confidence- these red little almond nails looked too good.

She looked too good. If she says so herself.

Silco kept the kids upstairs with cartoon and an excessive amount of Amelia's chocolates- so it was up to Vander and Ran to keep that fire going and have their friend strut her shit for her special day. The eggs are taking over though, because while they give her a pep-talk that woman is thinking of all the positions to get that baby [lil' shit] that you've both wanted desperately [as of two months now].

A once over and Ran sends her off, telling another crappy joke and telling her not to forget to fluff her hair after she takes the rollers out. Sevika had two cups a liquid audacity that was more than enough to have her strutting the streets with her silk scarf covered head and her painted face. Everyone is looking at her in awe- only looking away when they realize that they're not worthy. If you were here with her, you'd stare at whoever even dared to look at her extremely wrong. She laughs to herself at that, causing some to flinch and scurry back to their little corner.

Because she timed it [and cus Amelia told her so], she went home to cook her gal a meal with an extra dessert planned...

She's shocked when the food comes banger and smells absolutely devine. You would love this, you'd be so proud- that's what she muses with, and her cunt certainly agrees if that clench was anything to go by. When she finishes frosting the cake, your mom calls her, letting her know that your dress and on your way. She laugh too herself for a good 2 mins, the idea of you dress up and fighting the steak hilarious to her. Thanking her for the heads-up, Sevika ends the call -covers the cake- and puts on the lace number, her thigh-highs and garter, and the dress.

Yes. A dress.

And fuck did she look smoking.

She did a once-over and applied more lipstick and perfume, before speeding back to the kitchen to grab the fancy bucket Silco gifted her on her wedding day. The champagne and towel looked professional, and she's three steps away from the table to finish setting it-

Then the door jingles.

She's about cumbusts right there on the damn spot [get it? I'm srry again]. Almost tossing the thing on the table and throwing herself to you- but she rehearsed this- she knows what to do.

Fucking focus Sevika Lanes!

You open the door and drop both the keys and chocolate on the little table by the door. She sauntered over so fucking proud, a nervous flash making your diamond nibble her lips before letting go. A sultry tone nearly silence by your horniess.

"Welcome home doll."

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

Your eyes are everywhere. Where can you pick when everything's fucking delicious?

A black get up, there's no color besides a blood red on her lips. A fifties old money heart-throb is what your diamond is. Her hair falling just like that pretty hairstyle you see in the stereotypes, the one with a side part and covering her eye? Yeah. And the short hair was making things extra tempting. You smell her from here, you catch the teardrop pearl earrings and matching necklace you bought her decorating her skin. But that dress. The thing itself is velvet, a deep sweetheart with semi-thin halter strap making those pretty tits even more plush. You make her do a little spin, and it's low cut-out back too, the most sinful thing. The bottom of the dress is a problem. There's a slit, ending right atop her hip, the floor-length skirt making those legs damn delectable in your eyes. Fuck- is she using a garter belt to hold the tights? Oh shit, an actual- fuck- a garter touching your shit. Oh- heels.

You don't know you moved impossibly closer to her until Sevika nervously asks: "Uh- D-doll? Are y-you ok?"

Oh you just about take her on the damn door, but your nose catches something real nice behind her. Fuck- answer her!

"Oh. O-oh honey. Oh yes."

Your voice isn't above a whisper, your too in love to properly voice all the emotions you feel right now. All of them putting joy to shame. You hear her deflate almost, leaning into your open arms with a sigh, sucking in your scent when she realized you wore your signature: A soft floral scent, a bit of fruity coming through the hints of amber. It sound weird to say out loud to anyone- but it's so unequivocally you.

"Oh gods, good. I thought you'd be mad at me after all the work you went through to make things perfect..."

Her voice is shaky, not with tears thankfully, but with relief. She just keeps huffing you, just like she does when she needs to ground herself . You on the other hand? You are doing nothing wholesome, nor are you thinking it. You are acting very un-lady like, groping her ass and sniffing that scent that has you complete drugged. There's no way you could go through with this, not when her boobs touch your face. Not when she smell like this. Not when her hormones beg for your love. Not when-

"Doll- I want you to see something. Keep it in you pants a little longer? For me- MÍ Amor?"

This is when it clicks that's it taking everything in her to shimmy out of your grip. When you register that the thing your smelling is food and not only her arousal- You quickly nod your head and briskly let go like she burned you. It's that or your taking that slutty dress off. Mrs. Rabbit who?

She backs up, fixes herself and re-adjusts her hair, and takes you by the hand.

Oh gods: how beautiful she set this table. It looked fantastic.

You hoped you expressed as much as your mouth hung open in disbelief, then Sevika had the gall to hold her hands together Infront of her, nervous. How could she be nervous? Still, she nibbled on her lip waiting for you to say something.

And how she'd take anything to silence the ache in her chest. Gods, you looked entirely to good in that suit for her to continue with this dinner. Why do you always want to do these nice things? She needs to get railed ri-

"Diamond... This is beautiful. You did all of this?"

She give a little nod, her proud feeling making her all giddy and having her stand taller like she needed to correct her posture. You had a ridiculous smile probably, but you were so fucking amazed and proud of her, you didn't dare school your joy.

"Thihis is amazing love! Look at you being a lil' chef! You telling me you could do this all along?!"

She snorts a laugh, fully relieved that your happy and not disappointed that she ruined your surprised- but with relief comes something darker that's clouding 90% of her vison. You both know it.

Dinner's here- you're just missing the show. To redeem yourself you pull out her chair and have her sit down, pushing her in before running to your seat. Once your settled, you pour the champagne and give her the flute: Then she says, "Bueno Amor, open it. I hope you like it, I think I might have put bit to much pepper..."

=======

Anddd skiping to a blip of smut, I can't think rn- to much flustered. But know this- she brutal on the other side of the table and teasing you to no end. Horny she is- but she's making sure it ur problem. P.S- Sevika is bra-less, and ur telling me "girl- duh" but you don't get it. there's no pasties either, just pretty tities with nipples poking right through.

===SMUT====

Sevika doesn't know when you ever fucked her this hard. You're practically growling, and animalistic need taking you as you rail her harder each time like your thick 9 inches isn't stretching her to the brink of insanity. Oh- and how incredible that would be. Sevika can't fight it, she lost her ordering rights when she pushed you too far at the table. Even if you let her have a few seconds of control at the beginning. She's left trying to crawl away just for you to pull her back telling the nastiest thing in her ear.

"You think y' so fukin' funny huh? Wearing that skimpy thing, being a good lil' -hah- M-my good housewife 'nd not have may baby? But y' want that no? y'a want a lil' cake in there. Ya?"

And all she could do is sob through a moan, a babble trying to cuss you out as she begs you for more.

She gets that baby that night, but you make sure the next morning.

@archangeldyke-all- Hope you like?😭can't write rn- but hopfully you can do the dinner and the smut better?

Hopfully y'all enjoy too!!

kisssessssss

#sevika x reader #arcane sevika #sevika arcane #sevika

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