#it takes me at least an hour every night to do all of this

[muniimyg]

♡ 04: how you're lookin' at me, yeah, i know what that means and i'm obsessed

series m.list // taglist

note: a wild ride…. good luck y’all ,, THANKS FOR 1K 😻 my kitty is happy !!! hauwhahahahaa this part is lengthy so pls take a mfking SEAT. pls lmk what y’all think ,, send in asks 🫵 we’re headed towards the finale 💛 much wuv !!

warnings: tension/tampo vibes (whats that in english? lol) ,, male masturbation (jk gets himself off as he recalls oc slapping him) ,, jealousy (lots of it. like 90% of this part is filled with it) ,, oc has a hickey ,, angst ,, and a little mwaamwaaaa moment :')

//

life sucks. 

for jungkook, at least. 

it’s been almost a month since the incident, and you’ve done everything in your power to avoid him.

the memory of the fight—the words exchanged, the way he said your name—still lingers in the air between you like smoke, suffocating and inescapable.

at first, jungkook tried.

he texted you the next day and every day after that. his messages were hesitant and apologetic... and each one was left unanswered.

nerd [11:11PM]: ___, can we talk? sent nerd [11:28PM]: please? sent nerd [12:01AM]: i’m sorry. i mean it. sent nerd [12:03AM]: it wasn’t even like that. not with her.  sent nerd [1:09AM]: ik i’m gonna sound like a total douche no matter what so let me do it please sent nerd [1:15AM]: let me say sorry, let me fuck up, let me make it up to u sent nerd [2:01AM]: i really hate begging  sent nerd [2:01AM]: but i really hate u not wanting me even more seen

he did try to call though.

just once.

the ringtone barely lasted before he hung up, realizing how futile it was.

at one point, he showed up at your favorite coffee shop one afternoon. he sat alone by the window with an untouched drink, waiting. 

his eyes flicked to the door every time it opened, a glimmer of hope lighting his expression for a split second before fading when it wasn’t you.

after two hours, he left.

but now, almost four weeks later, jungkook has stopped trying (so hard).

it wasn’t a sudden decision, more of a gradual acceptance that whatever connection you’d shared—whatever you’d been to each other—was slipping through his fingers.

he told himself you needed time, that maybe this space was what you wanted, what you deserved. and so, he gave it to you.

he told himself it wasn’t the end. 

it couldn’t be.

he refuses for it to be. 

this is just… complicated. 

he gets that.

he's a smart guy after all!

but late at night, when the world was quiet and he was left alone with his thoughts, the weight of your absence pressed against his chest like an ache he couldn’t soothe. it... burns? it throbs in this aching rhythm that he can't quite figure the melody to.

jungkook thinks about the way you banter with him and how much it makes his day. how closely you sit next to him. how effortlessly you mesmerize him… 

how you flirted with him for a few days and now he's malfunctioning. how he spent the last month memorizing every detail of those days and can't get over it. he has convinced himself you're into him...  

like, remember how your fingers would brush his when you handed him something? that meant something, right? or how about the way you looked at him and tilted your head? shit, yeah.

that meant something.

fuck, the way you laugh and throw your head back and he gets a glance at your perfect neck—how he wants to leave kisses on it. how he… 

how he had you. 

for a moment, he really had you. 

under him, tangled, and messy. 

how he was so close to your lips. 

he should’ve kissed you. 

he should’ve locked the fucking door. 

he should’ve ran after you even more. 

but he didn’t…

and now? 

now you aren’t even around. 

he recalls what taehyung said to him night at the arcade. taehyung's words rub into his wound like salt. it stings. it makes him feel sick to his stomach and he just... get can't stomach it.

“she isn't gonna stick around forever... especially with all the shit you pull…”

there are no words to describe how incredibly helpless he feels.

if anything, he goes through circles in his mind; completely in disbelief he could fuck up this bad with you.

he hates that he can't think straight. he hates that he can't study properly. he hates that he stopped tutoring and even got in trouble with his profs for letting them down (they really counted on jungkook to help other students out).

he hates that he can't fucking breathe lately.

he can't sleep.

he can't eat.

jungkook hates the growing distance, but more than that, he hates how much it hurts.

he hates how much he wants to fix things even when he doesn’t know how. he just knows he wants to. god, fuck it—

fine. 

he hates how much he misses you.

but most of all, he hates that he was wrong. 

it was entirely his fault. 

jungkook hates it all.

by chance, you and jungkook run into each other. 

the scene is perfect.

it's the perfect set up to cry over when you get home—that is.

the rain starts just as you’re leaving the library, soft at first but quickly turning heavier. you don’t expect to see him—not here, not now—but there he is, standing under the awning of the café across the street, shaking out his umbrella. the door chimes as you step outside, and he looks up.

for a moment, neither of you move, caught in the heavy stillness of the moment.

jungkook freezes when he sees you. 

his eyes widen briefly, then soften into something cautious, hesitant. he tucks his hands into the pockets of his hoodie, fingers flexing nervously against the fabric as he steps forward.

“hey,” he says, his voice careful, like he’s offering a truce.

the sound of him makes your heart clench, the warmth in his tone threatening to undo you. but you don’t let it show. you nod once, lips pressed into a thin line, and move to step around him.

“wait—” his hand shoots out, not to grab you, just to stop you. his fingers hover midair, unsure if he even has the right to reach for you anymore. “___, please?”

the rain is falling harder now, pooling on the sidewalk and soaking into the edges of your shoes. you glance at him, taking in the way his hair clings to his forehead, the way his hoodie looks just a little too big on him, like he hasn’t been sleeping well or eating much.

“can you not pretend like this is a coincidence?” you ask quietly, refusing to meet his gaze. 

he stays silent. 

it wasn’t. 

truth be told, he’s been waiting outside for almost 45 minutes. he didn’t even know if you were at the library today… he just had to wait and find out for himself. 

"do you have an umbrella?" he asks, breaking the silence. 

"what—"

"here." 

he cuts you off, pushing the umbrella toward you.

you blink, startled, as he places the handle firmly in your hand. your fingers wrap around it instinctively, the metal cool against your palm.

"jungkook—" you start, your voice faltering.

he shakes his head, stepping back into the rain without a word. the downpour hits him almost instantly, soaking through his hoodie as he shoves his hands into his pockets and starts walking away.

you stand there, the umbrella trembling in your grip, watching him go. the rain comes down harder, cascading off the awning above you, but you barely notice. your gaze stays locked on him—on the way his shoulders hunch against the storm, on the slow but steady steps that carry him farther and farther away.

something tightens in your chest. 

maybe it’s regret or maybe longing… but as his figure grows smaller and the storm swallows him—you feel it.

the warmth of his lingering presence and the chill of it all—

—of your favourite almost.

a few days later, jungkook finds his umbrella in his bedroom. 

he takes out his phone to send you a text, prepared to humiliate himself and to beg for a second of your attention. he’d trade all tonight’s focus for a moment of you.

just as he picks the umbrella up, he finds a note. 

___ told me to give it back to you. she says thanks (whore). ps: she said don’t text her. — taehyung

jungkook sighs. 

does he listen? 

obviously not. 

nerd [6:19PM]: don’t tell me what to do  nerd [6:20PM]: i hate this nerd [6:21PM]: u should’ve jus kept the umbrella. giving it back to taehyung and telling him to tell me not to text u is sick.  seen. nerd [6:22PM]: reply pls seen.  nerd [6:26PM]: fine. i’ll jus talk to myself  nerd [6:31PM]: i miss u sm i jerked off the other night thinking abt the way u slapped me  seen nerd [6:33PM]: come on, kitty  nerd [6:34PM]: promise to think abt me tn :(  nerd [6:35PM]: cos i’m gonna think abt u tn nerd [6:36PM]: ignore me if u want proof  typing…  nerd [6:37PM]: kitty? seen nerd [6:40PM]: fuck. nerd [6:41PM]: how do u get me so fucking hard thru text? maybe i jus miss u too much  nerd [6:42PM]: excited for my proof?  seen nerd [6:45PM]: ft?  seen nerd [6:46PM]: keep seenzoning me and i’ll cum typing... seen ___ has notifications silenced

but it's too late.

jungkook meant it.

he's sat on his gaming chair, cock heavy.

his phone is out with that group picture from the arcade (zoomed into you) as lewd thoughts of you fill his mind. jungkook runs his thumb across his tip, hissing at the way it feels over his slit. 

he flicks his wrists, gripping his dick with just enough pressure to grow the hardness. it’s already stiff and he can feel the need to cum—but he just can’t.

he can’t without thinking of you. 

so, his eyes flutter shut as his memories of you replay in his mind. 

from the way your lips winced when he ate you out—to the way that mini skirt looked on you that day. he thinks about the way you say his name; in any and every way. angry, teasingly, and desperately… he thinks about how pretty it sounds rolling off your tongue. 

how pretty you looked under him.

how good you smelt when he kissed your neck. 

how close you sat next to him—fingertips lingering... god, what he would do to be close to you again. 

jungkook thinks about the slap. 

how hard your palms hit his cheek and how angry you looked at him. despite the negativity surrounding the situation—he can’t help it. 

you looked so hot. 

it just… gets to him. 

before he knows it, his hand is covered in his sticky cum. 

he’s a loser—a nerd in your words. 

he always has been… and here he is; jerking himself off to the pretty girl he lost his chance with.

the night is supposed to be nothing special. 

for jungkook, it’s just another event for his precious marine conservation club—a fundraiser, a schmooze-fest for potential investors, and a chance to hand out awards to appease the donors. sure, he’s getting an award, but it doesn’t feel like much.

the room buzzes with polite conversation and clinking glasses. jungkook adjusts his tie for the hundredth time, barely paying attention to the speeches and presentations. he stands off to the side with the other club members, blending into the background until his name is called.

“jeon jungkook, for outstanding contributions to marine conservation and innovation. mr. jeon has been working towards innovative chemical solutions for marine conservation, focusing on sustainable practices to protect endangered species like dolphins, and developing eco-friendly alternatives to reduce their environmental impact.”

the applause is polite but hearty.

jungkook steps onto the stage, the spotlight hitting him square in the face. as he accepts the plaque, his gaze instinctively sweeps over the audience—and then it stops.

you’re here.

sitting with the guys, casually chatting like you belong there, like you haven’t been avoiding him for a month and a half (at this point).

his heart trips over itself. 

he’s not even sure if it’s relief or panic or something else entirely, but it rattles him. he forces his attention back to the microphone, holding the plaque in his slightly sweaty hands.

“uh, thank you,” he begins, his voice steady enough, though his pulse is anything but. “our club’s mission has always been to protect and preserve marine life through education, community projects, and outreach. with this award…”

his eyes flick back to you. 

you’re laughing at something taehyung just said, your smile bright, your whole demeanor light and carefree.

“…we want to focus on…”

he falters, the words slipping from his mind as his gaze lingers on you.

“…we want to focus on… f-focus…”

a ripple of laughter spreads through the audience. someone whistles playfully. he blinks, startled back into the moment.

“…focus on sustainable practices and expanding our projects,” he finishes, clearing his throat as heat rises to his cheeks.

you’re laughing too, your head tilted slightly as you join the others. it should make him feel worse, but somehow, seeing you like that—smiling, present—grounds him.

he powers through the rest of the speech, keeping his gaze firmly away from where you’re sitting. when it’s over, he accepts the handshake from the host and makes his way offstage, barely registering the applause.

as soon as the ceremony ends, jungkook doesn’t even think. 

he weaves through the crowd, ignoring congratulatory pats on the back and comments from investors, his eyes scanning for you.

how did you know about tonight?

wait. 

shit.

he’s been texting you every day with random ass updates. of course you know. he’s yapped about it… but why? why did you come? don’t you hate his guts?

you're here so... maybe you don't hate him as much as he has convinced himself you do.

jungkook finds you near the back with the friend group, holding a glass of champagne and listening to hoseok animatedly retell a story.

“congratulations,” you say lightly, lifting your glass in a mock toast. your words are casual, but there's an edge to them, a distance you've kept between the two of you for far too long.

his chest tightens at the awkwardness of your tone, but he nods, his hands slipping into his pockets. the space between you feels impossibly wide now, though only a few feet separate you.

“thanks,” he says, his voice quieter than he intended. “... thanks for coming.”

his gaze flickers to yours for a second before dropping to the floor, and he shifts, a little uncertain, taking a half-step closer.

hesitantly, you inch back. 

his presence is suddenly overwhelming, more than you’re ready for.

“yeah… of course,” you murmur, unsure how to navigate the new dynamic between you two. the tension is thick, but there's something else there too. an unspoken history. “what are friends for, you know?”

he hates that. 

friends. 

yeah fucking right.

jungkook tries to break the tension.

he takes a risk.

he takes a small step forward, hoping you don’t move. this is the closest he’s gotten to you in over a month—he needs this. it’s like euphoria in his veins—being with you again.

he needs this.

“how have you been?” he asks, the question coming out softer than he anticipated. jungkook scratches the back of his neck and continues. “a-are you coming to the afterparty?”

your lips part, a pause hanging between you.

you don’t want to admit how much you’ve missed this. how much you’ve missed him.

but the words slip out, more natural than you expect.

“yeah,” you say, giving him a brief but warm look. “i’ll be there.”

for a moment, your eyes lock, and something shifts. 

it’s like you’ve both forgotten all the walls, the space between you collapsing. he can feel his heart rate quicken, like his knees might give out, but he forces himself to stay grounded, to act nonchalant.

“cool,” he says, trying to brush off the sudden rush of emotions. “i’ll.. i’ll be there too.” he smiles, but it’s the kind of smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes—not yet, anyway.

“i sure hope so,” you laugh. “it’s your party, nerd.”

nerd. 

holy shit. 

never has he ever felt so relieved to hear you call him that. 

as he’s about to say more, taehyung appears out of nowhere, slapping his arm and giving him a congratulatory squeeze. 

“hey, man, nice speech. well deserved,” taehyung says, grinning like an idiot. “what did you want to focus on, again?”

you laugh while jungkook rolls his eyes. he shoves taehyung playfully. 

suddenly, you can’t help but feel the awkwardness settle back in, like something’s shifted again. you feel a pang in your chest as you turn toward the other people nearby, the ones you've been socializing with before jungkook showed up. the buzz of the conversation pulls you away, and you focus on the group, hoping to escape the overwhelming emotions that jungkook’s presence stirs.

jungkook watches you go, his eyes lingering as you slip away from the conversation. 

he can’t help it. 

you’re in his head again.

he looks over at taehyung, catching his eye. 

“hyung, is she coming to the dinner before the afterparty?” he asks, trying to sound casual. his voice betrays him, cracking with just the faintest hint of hope.

taehyung raises an eyebrow, taking a sip of his drink. 

“yeah. excited?”

“no.”

taehyung scoffs. “say that again but take away the lying.”

“fuck off.”

“___’s a good friend, man,” taehyung chuckles, redirecting the conversation. “you’re lucky. you just might be back in her good graces.”

jungkook’s heart skips a beat. 

“really?” he asks, trying not to sound too eager.

taehyung grins, leaning in a little. 

“yeah, but... she’s bringing her little boyfriend with her.”

you’re doing what?

jungkook feels the need to rub his eyes or something.

was taehyung shitting on him? boyfriend? when did this happen? no fucking way. 

jungkook refuses to believe it. 

… yet, the words hit jungkook like a punch to the gut. his breath catches, and his stomach tightens. 

"what?" his voice is barely a whisper, the weight of it settling in. 

"she didn't tell you?"

"we haven't been talking."

"rightfully so."

fuck. 

no. 

he doesn’t want to believe it, but the hurt is already seeping through.

taehyung shrugs, oblivious to the internal storm brewing in jungkook. 

“shit, well... yeah, she’s been seeing him for a while. dunno if they’re officially together, but… guess she’s really moving on. good for her, right? i mean, now you can really focus on just being her friend.”

the air stills. 

the reality of it all comes crashing down. jungkook’s heart sinks, his chest tightening in that all-too-familiar ache. 

that's why you’ve been busy... 

you’ve been moving on.

his fingers curl into fists, the anger bubbling up before he can suppress it. but he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t let his emotions spill out in front of taehyung, even though every part of him is screaming. 

“yeah,” he forces a smile. “i guess.”

as the night goes on, jungkook can’t shake the feeling that he’s lost something he can’t get back. something that’s slipping further away with every step you take, every laugh you share with someone else. and no matter how much he wants to fight for it, he’s afraid it’s already too late.

jungkook doesn’t want to go to dinner anymore.

he has no appetite.

jungkook is already at the dinner when you arrive. 

his mood is off, grumpy but with an undercurrent of sadness that he can’t quite shake. he’s forcing a smile when people congratulate him for the award, but it’s clear it’s not reaching his eyes. the night’s just been a blur of congratulations and polite smiles, but all he can think about who will walk in with you. 

does he know him?

is he gonna be some super cool prince charming?

does he know that jungkook was eating you out just a month ago? 

all valid questions…

however, you arrive a little late, and immediately his gaze searches for you in the crowd. when he sees you, his heart lurches. he spots you talking to someone, and the knot in his stomach tightens.

you make your way to the table, your eyes scanning it before you stop. for a moment, you aren’t sure where to sit. usually, you sit next to jungkook… but the spot is occupied by jimin. 

not by choice.

jungkook had saved the spot for you… you just came too late and he didn’t have it in him to tell jimin to move. but, jimin catches the milli-second exchanged look you have with jungkook and immediately shifts. 

“oh,” jimin begins. “shit, i forgot… didn’t know you were gonna show up so late—”

you chuckle, shaking your head. “it’s fine we’re gonna sit on the other side! by the way,” you pause and push the guy you came with forward. “this is do-hwan. he’s a biochem major and we have a few electives together… um, what else?” 

biochem?

serisouly?

do you have a thing for nerds or something? bro doesn't even look the part. he should be majoring in physics or something even more lame.

jungkook's thoughts cut short when he hears you giggling.

“hi,” do-hwan says with a grins at everyone. then, he turns and extends his hand to jungkook. “jungkook? shit, man. congrats on the award.”

he chuckles, giving jungkook a playful look. “organic chem, huh? i guess someone has to study the pretty side of chemistry.” 

what the fuck does that mean?

jungkook’s ears turn red. 

“yeah,” he grumbles under his breath. “nice to meet you too.”

with that, you and do-hwan make your way to the other side of the table. jungkook watches, his gaze hardening as you take a seat beside him.

he’s trying his best to stay calm and to not show it—not show how absolutely fucking mad this entire thing is.

this is ridiculous! 

his chest tightens painfully at the sight of you sitting with him. his fingers curl into his glass as he watches you laugh and chat with others, inserting do-hwan like you’re some proud girlfriend. 

you've probably known do-hwan like 10 seconds.

and jungkook can’t help it! every word you exchange with do-hwan makes him feel like he’s being crushed from the inside out. 

he’s trying to focus on the conversation happening around him, but his mind keeps wandering, drifting to you.

he watches as you lean in to talk to do-hwan, the way your eyes light up when you laugh at something he says. it’s the same laugh, the same warmth in your smile, but somehow it feels so much farther away from him now—like a memory that he’s trying to hold onto but can’t quite grasp.

he forces himself to look at the group again, but his gaze keeps slipping back to you. every word you exchange with do-hwan makes his chest tighten.

it's like he’s suffocating, and he can’t tear his eyes away. the way he moves so casually, his hand brushing against yours as he reaches for his drink. 

it’s too much.

it’s too familiar.

and then, as you turn your head to respond to someone else, he sees it.

just a flash of it—right there on your neck. 

a small hickey, barely visible, but it might as well be a brand. his heart stops for a beat. the sight burns in his chest, and before he can stop himself, his breath catches in his throat.

his stomach churns violently, a rush of heat flooding his veins. everything feels like it’s collapsing inward. the noise around him fades, and all he can hear is the pounding of his own heartbeat. the world shrinks, and the weight of the jealousy hits him like a truck.

he can’t stay here. 

not like this. 

not with this tightness in his chest, not with the ache in his stomach. the room feels like it’s closing in on him, and he knows—he knows he has to get out.

without a word, he stands abruptly, pushing his chair back. his heart races as he excuses himself from the table, slipping away into the hallway outside the main dining area.

the rest of the table doesn’t seem to notice his sudden departure, but your friends quickly start murmuring, and one of them nudges you. 

"you should probably go check on him," taehyung says, giving you an almost knowing look. “i told you not to bring him.”

you hesitate for a second, then stand, glancing at do-hwan.

“it’s not do-hwan's fault.”

taehyung rolls his eyes at you. 

“you’re playing it kinda mean tonight though,” he tells you. “jungkook’s been miserable. sure he deserves to be dragged through mud for whatever happened and for whatever he said, but this? on his night? i don’t know ___…”

you gulp.

maybe taehyung is right.

but you didn’t intend for it to be like this. you genuinely brought a friend you’ve been spending time with! and, sure… yeah. you’ve been kissing him for a few weeks now, but so what? jungkook has probably been fucking every student he’s been tutoring so why the fuck does this matter?

“___…” taehyung urges you. 

“yeah, yeah… i’m going.” 

you wave taehyung off as you get up from your seat. you excuse yourself and let do-hwan know you’ll be right back.

you find jungkook outside. 

he stands with his back pressed against the cool metal of his car, arms crossed loosely over his chest. you notice that his posture is stiff... like he’s trying to keep himself grounded, but his shoulders still carry the weight of what he’s just seen.

his jaw clenches every so often, like he’s holding something back, but when his muscles tense, it’s almost as if the anger or hurt inside him is too much to contain.

as you walk towards him and he notices you. he runs a hand through his hair, tugging at the ends, clearly agitated. he lets out a slow, shaky breath, his eyes cast down toward the ground as if trying to collect his thoughts. he shakes his head slightly, as if to shake off the frustration that has settled in his chest, but it doesn’t seem to help. 

then, he looks up at the sky, his gaze distant, unfocused, lost in the swirl of thoughts that seem to chase him in circles. his arms drop to his sides for a moment, his fingers flexing and unflexing like he’s trying to release the tension that has built up in his body.

after a long pause, he lets out a frustrated sigh, raking his hand through his hair again, this time pushing it back as he exhales sharply.

his whole stance is restless.

it’s like he can’t quite settle his thoughts or his body, caught between what he feels and the reality of what’s happening. 

he’s trapped in his own head, unable to escape the weight of the situation.

by now, you’re next to him.

are you here to set him free?

“so… have the dolphins ever thanked you for your hard work?” you ask, trying to break both the silence and tension with your light tone. “you do so much for them… ungrateful little brats—you know they’re psychos right? they bully—”

he doesn’t turn around. 

“what’s on your neck?” he asks. “did your boyfriend do that?”

your chest hurts at his words. “he’s not... he’s not my boyfriend.” you swallow, trying to keep your voice steady. “he’s just a friend.”

there’s a long pause, and when he finally turns to face you, his eyes are a mixture of frustration and hurt. 

“the same kind of friend i am to you?”

he’s trying to sound nonchalant, but there’s a tremor in his voice.

you shake your head, not knowing how to explain, not knowing how to make him understand.

“you know what? i didn’t come here to make you feel like this…” your voice cracks slightly. “i didn’t... i don’t want to hurt you. i didn’t want to come.”

he scoffs bitterly.

“maybe you shouldn’t have.”

his words sting, but you can’t back down. 

“what do you want me to do?” you ask, frustrated. “if i didn’t show up, you’d be upset and blow up my phone. now that i’m here, you’re still upset—”

“and this is how you chose to show up?” jungkook raises his voice, turning to you. he steps forward, towering over you. he brings his hands to your hair, pushing it back and leaning in to look at your hickey properly. 

he squints. 

“are you proud of this?” he hisses. “fucking bug bite bullshit.”

“stop—” you snap, cutting him off now. “don’t—”

“okay. sorry, fuck..."

a beat.

"___, i miss you,” he breathes. “i just… shit. can you stay still for a second?”

there’s a long silence between you two, the air thick with things unsaid. jungkook looks like he’s about to say something, but his mouth closes, his frustration evident in the way he grits his teeth. 

instead, he just breathes you in. 

for the first time in a month and a half; jungkook can breathe.

then, he steps away and sighs. 

“think i’m gonna head home first. i… i need some space or something,” jungkook tells you. “let them know for me?”

“y-yeah. sure.”

“okay,” jungkook nods. “i’ll see you later.”

“see you.”

for the first time in a while, jungkook offers you a smile and you return it. 

short and sweet—he takes it. 

he leaves and thinks about it the entire drive home.

when you arrive at the party, you’re still reeling from the brief exchange with jungkook. 

your thoughts are completely a tangled mess. 

from the words he didn’t say to the way his eyes held that edge of something unspoken—it all lingers in your mind like an unsolved puzzle. you thought you had it all figured out…

that you could be fine.

that you could move on—but now, after that moment, you’re not so sure anymore. 

your heart races in a way that you can’t explain. why does it feel like you’re standing on the edge of something—something big, something scary—and yet, you're not sure if you want to fall or pull back?

your mind keeps returning to the way he looked at you, like he was caught between wanting to say everything and nothing at all. it’s not a feeling you can shake off easily.

it’s heavier than you thought it would be.

at the party, you try your best to focus on the people around you. do-hwan is by your side, chatting casually with a few people, most of them strangers to you. some faces are familiar—people from jungkook’s marine conservation club, and others... just people. 

you make your rounds, greeting them politely, exchanging pleasantries, but your thoughts are still drifting back to him. to jungkook. the air is thick with anticipation, and no matter how much you try to focus on the conversations happening around you, your mind keeps wandering.

and then, there he is.

jungkook is standing by the drink table, his posture relaxed but not at ease. 

his gaze flicks to you for a moment, a brief flicker of something—maybe surprise, maybe something more—before he meets your eyes. there’s a tense, palpable moment of silence.

he’s holding a red cup in one hand, his fingers wrapped loosely around it. his other hand rests in his pocket, but his stance is still too rigid... too guarded.

it’s like he’s waiting for something to happen, for you to do something.

he doesn’t smile. 

he just nods at you. 

a small, deliberate movement that somehow feels too formal, too distant.

no words.

just acknowledgment.

you feel the knot tighten in your stomach, the nervous energy in your chest quickening. it’s the simplest thing, but it feels loaded with so much more.

you can’t look away. 

something inside you is aching to go over, to close the space between you, to ask if everything’s okay, to say something—but you're frozen. the tension in the air between you is thick enough to suffocate.

you swallow hard, trying to calm the unease building in your chest, but it's no use.

the silence stretches out, heavy and thick, as you stand there, caught between the desire to run or to take a step closer, not sure if you're brave enough for either.

you take a step back, trying to break eye contact, when suddenly, someone bumps into you from behind. you stumble forward, your feet catching on the edge of a rug, and you let out a startled breath as you lose your balance.

before you can fully fall, a strong hand grips your wrist, pulling you back against something solid. your breath catches as you feel the warmth of someone’s body close to you.

it’s jungkook.

without a word, his other hand slides around your waist, steadying you, his fingers briefly pressing against the fabric of your shirt. the contact is brief but grounding, like the world, slows for a moment, just the two of you, suspended in time.

he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t offer the usual reassuring words. 

his grip is firm, and steady, but he doesn’t linger. as quickly as it happens, he pulls away, his hand leaving your waist just as the tension between you starts to build.

you open your mouth to say something, maybe a thank you, but before the words leave your lips, he’s already moving away, stepping back with that familiar, unreadable expression.

you stand there. 

you’re frozen for a beat longer than necessary. your chest tight as you try to catch your breath… his sudden departure stings more than you care to admit. there’s no time for you to process what just happened, what that touch meant—or didn't mean—before he vanishes back into the crowd.

fuck.

the night only gets louder as more people flood into the house. 

the music thrums through the walls, bass-heavy and relentless, blending with the clatter of cups and the hum of overlapping conversations.

you weave through the crowd, the heat of so many bodies pressed together almost suffocating. your heart races—not from the chaos around you but from the weight of the unspoken tension that’s followed you since you walked in.

you couldn’t bring yourself to drink, though do-hwan had handed you a cup earlier. 

it’s long forgotten somewhere, left behind on a table. you’re too afraid of what a single drink might loosen in you—afraid of saying or doing something you’re not ready for.

you don’t want to make worse what already feels so broken.

“hey.” do-hwan’s voice cuts through the noise, his hand resting lightly on your arm. he pulls you aside to a quieter corner of the room, away from the crush of people. “you okay?”

you nod, a small, uncertain smile tugging at your lips. “yeah. just... a little overwhelmed, i guess.”

he watches you closely, his expression softening as if he’s trying to read between the lines. “you sure? you’ve been kind of quiet tonight.”

“i’m fine, really.”

“you don’t have to be,” he says, and it’s the way he says it—gentle, almost understanding—that makes you crack a real smile. “pretty sure jungkook hates me. pretty sure he’s killed me 10 times in his head in the past hour or so… and he knows all the organic chem shit to make it a really clean murder, you know? “

you let out a weak laugh, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. 

he grins at the sight, his confidence blooming as he leans in closer, his shoulder brushing against yours. 

“there it is,” he says playfully. “i was starting to think you didn’t know how to smile anymore.”

you laugh softly despite yourself, and his grin widens. 

do-hwan then dips his head lower as he talks, his voice dropping slightly, as if the two of you are sharing a secret. it’s intimate in a way that makes your cheeks flush, his proximity unnerving. his eyes flick to yours, and he leans in just a little more.

across the room, jungkook sees everything. 

is it hot in here?

because fuck, he’s burning up.

actually, the entire house is on fire in his mind. 

he’s been watching you for most of the night, though he pretends not to be.

the way do-hwan hovers near you, the way you laugh at something he says—it feels like a punch to the chest. every small interaction between you two is a reminder of what he’s lost, of what he could’ve had if he’d been braver, better.

his grip on his cup tightens, his knuckles white against the red plastic. he can’t hear what you’re saying, but he doesn’t need to. the way do-hwan leans closer, the way his hand brushes your arm—it’s enough to make jealousy coil hot and bitter in jungkook’s stomach. it burns through him, unbearable, as he watches do-hwan dip his head lower, his lips so close to yours.

and then something inside him snaps.

fuck it. 

before he knows it, he’s moving through the crowd, his feet carrying him faster than his mind can keep up. his hand reaches out, fingers wrapping firmly around your wrist just as do-hwan’s face nears yours. you barely have time to process the sudden motion before you’re being yanked back, stumbling slightly into jungkook’s chest.

“what the hell?” do-hwan says, his tone sharp, but jungkook doesn’t even look at him. his focus is entirely on you, his jaw tight and eyes dark with something unreadable.

your breath catches, your heart hammering in your chest as you look up at him, startled. 

“jungkook—”

he doesn’t let you finish. 

his hand wraps firmly around your wrist, and before you can process what’s happening, he’s pulling you away. his grip is steady but not rough, a silent insistence that leaves no room for argument.

“jungkook, wait—” you try again, glancing back at do-hwan, whose confused expression barely registers in the rush of your heartbeat.

jungkook doesn’t look back, his jaw tight and his steps purposeful as he weaves through the crowd, his hand never leaving yours. the air around you feels heavy, the muffled music and chatter blurring into white noise as he leads you up the stairs.

your pulse thrums in your ears as he pushes open a door and pulls you inside, closing it behind you with a quiet but final click. the sudden silence of the room contrasts sharply with the chaos outside, and for a moment, you can only stare at him, your chest rising and falling as you catch your breath.

he finally lets go of your wrist, his hand lingering for a split second longer than necessary before he steps back. his gaze is dark, unreadable, but the tension radiating off him is palpable. the weight of the moment presses down on you, thick and suffocating, as you wait for him to speak.

a moment passes.

then, another.

and another.

and another.

and then—

“dump him.” 

you clearly your throat.

“can’t dump him. he’s not my boyfriend—“

“you and your fucking situationships.”

you gulp.

you hate the way he says it.

situationship… fuck him.

the room feels smaller than it is, the air thick with the weight of the moment. jungkook’s jaw ticks as he stares at you, the sharpness in his voice cutting through the silence.

“you’re… fucking with me, right?” he spits out, his tone teetering between disbelief and frustration. “you can’t be fucking real right now. you were just—”

“i was just what?” you snap, your glare matching his. “no fair, jungkook. i got to hear you fuck some girl, but you don’t want to watch me kiss—”

“did i ask you to?” he cuts in, his voice rising.

“no,” you huff, crossing your arms. “but what are you asking from me right now? huh? jungkook… i don’t understand you—”

“what do you think i’m asking?” his voice lowers, but the intensity behind it doesn’t waver. he steps closer, his presence almost suffocating. “you’re always trying to act like this doesn’t matter. like i don’t matter.”

“maybe it doesn’t,” you challenge, even though the words taste bitter on your tongue.

jungkook laughs, but it’s humorless, sharp. 

“yeah, sure. that’s why you still give a fuck about me fucking—”

you snap. “don’t tell me her name.”

“what?” jungkook grumbles. “is that it? you get to parade around, yelling his fucking name and announcing it to the entire fucking world but i don’t get to tell you about the girl that came onto me for months? do-hwan biochem this, do-hwan that—do-hwan kiss me! is that it?"

"jungkook—"

"fuck, ___... listen to me, okay? let me tell you what i've been rehearsing for the past month and a half.... the girl i declined over and over again and fucked a total of 3 times because i was thinking with my dick is done. okay? if you’re trying to tell me that i fucked up—fine. yeah. i fucked up. but i meant it when i said it’s not what it looked like. ___, it wasn't like that. she spread shit about me being a good tutor and twisted it. how the fuck do you think i feel about myself? how the fuck do you think i feel about you seeing it differently—seeing me differently?”

your throat tightens, and you look away, desperate for a moment to compose yourself. 

“jungkook—”

“tell me how to fix it,” he cries, his frustration spilling over. “tell me what you want, because i’ll do it. i’ll stop tutoring if that’s what you want. fuck, i already did to be honest with you.”

you glance up at him, startled.

“why? that’s not going to change anything.”

“but i have to try…” his voice cracks, and he runs a hand through his hair, his exasperation evident. “i’ll give up anything—whatever it takes. just tell me what you need, and i’ll do it. want me to stop wearing ugly ass shirts? fine. want me to stop saving the dolphins you hate so much—”

“i don’t hate dolphins—”

“you’re scared of them.”

your eyes soften. 

“how’d you know—”

“it’s obvious,” jungkook breathes. “the same way it’s obvious you’re scared of this.”

this...

what even is this?

the silence that follows is deafening. you don’t say anything, and the tension between you stretches taut, threatening to snap. his chest rises and falls heavily, his eyes searching yours, desperate for something you’re not sure you can give him.

he takes another step closer, his proximity making it impossible to think straight.

“say something,” he pleads, his voice barely above a whisper now.

but you can’t.

you don’t trust your voice, don’t trust yourself not to break under the weight of it all. so you stay quiet, the space between you charged with everything unsaid.

the weight of unsaid words and unresolved feelings pressing down on both of you. you take a step back, trying to create some space to breathe, but jungkook mirrors you, closing the distance effortlessly.

then, you look around his room for some kind of break… but it backfires as your eyes meet a plushie, laying on his bed.

hello kitty.

“what’s that?” you ask a little shyly.

jungkook turns his head, feeling a little embarrassed at what you’ve seen.

“what do you think it is?” jungkook asks gently. "___... i... i can't do it. i'm sorry, i can't..."

"can't what?"

"i can't want you," he confesses. "i can't want you when i need you that bad."

he points at the plushie and sighs. "fuck, do you know how stupid that fucking claw machine made me feel? i spent like 1 or 2—"

"hours?" your eyes widen.

he shakes his head. "hundred."

hundred.

you stay silent.

"i'm sorry, ___... for everything. i'm a shithead. i'm mean and inconsiderate. i'm a waste of time—i know... but i want you to know that... everything about my life feels so weird without you in it. the past month and half has been absolute hell. it's like... if you're not around, all i do is think about you and it fucks with me. i wonder what you're eating, who you're with, and what you're going to do next... i get excited when you seenzone me. i feel like i can finally breathe when you're near. i don't know what you did and what fucking pavlov doggy shit experiment you did on me—but fuck. woof woof. whatever you want, ___. seriously."

then, you do what you fear.

you give in.

“how am i supposed to trust you,” you start, your voice shaky but firm, “when you’re not even a good friend? you’re always so mean to me, jungkook. think about it… when have we ever been good friends?”

he scoffs, the corner of his mouth twisting into a bitter smile. 

“maybe it’s because i don’t want to be your friend.”

the words hit you like a slap, your breath catching in your throat. 

“what if i want you to be?” 

his eyes search yours, as if trying to figure out if you’re serious. 

“really?” he asks, his voice dropping lower, softer.

“really.”

his gaze flickers down to your lips, then back to your eyes, and his voice drops even lower, a dangerous edge creeping into it. 

you can feel it… you can feel it about to happen. 

“even when i’m about to do this?”

before you can process his words, his hand moves to your waist, fingers curling around you in a way that sends a shiver down your spine. he pulls you closer, the heat of his touch searing through the fabric of your clothes.

his lips find yours in a kiss that’s as sudden as it is inevitable. 

it’s not gentle—it’s firm, deliberate, and entirely consuming. his other hand comes up to cradle your jaw, tilting your head just enough to deepen the kiss. your hands instinctively reach for his shoulders, gripping him as if to steady yourself against the storm he’s unleashing.

when he finally pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, both of you breathing hard. the air between you feels different now—heavier, laden with something you can’t quite name but can’t deny.

when jungkook finally pulls away, the world feels quieter, as though it’s holding its breath. his hand slides up, brushing a loose strand of hair from your face, and he looks at you softly, his dark eyes searching yours. the tender gesture sends a fresh wave of confusion—and longing—coursing through you.

“bad friend,” you scold him in a whisper.

his lips twitch, a soft laugh escaping him as his thumb grazes your cheek.

“don’t do that,” he says, his voice low, almost pleading. 

you raise a brow at him. "do what?"

"don’t friendzone me.”

“why not?” 

“i just kissed you.”

“so?”

“so?” he mimics, his tone teasing, but there’s a sharpness in his voice that makes you squirm. his arms tighten around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer. 

“kitty,” he murmurs, his voice dropping to a rough whisper, “i’m gonna be impossible to get rid of now."

[emmyrosee]

His foot taps anxiously against the floor of the flower shop, eyes glazing over the beautiful bouquets and vibrant colors that splash under the fluorescent lights that crackle above his head. The smell of so many flowers is getting into his head, powdery and sweet, but the nausea brewing inside of him is not budging.

He messed up. He knows that.

He also knows he relies on the bet that you’ll accept flowers every time he messes up, which while seldom, happens more than he still would like.

You deserve the utmost love and respect. And he can’t stand that sometimes, he feels like he can’t give it to you and has to hope flowers will be enough for your trust again, like a bandaid on a scraped knee.

After this, he’ll run to the bakery for a pastry, wrapped in a little box, waiting for you to enjoy it-

What is he thinking, countless gifts won’t make up for it, for all he’s done. You’ll never forgive him, each bouquet and each slice of cake when he messes up surely is only driving you away, and he cards a hand through his blonde hair as he has a small, teeny freak out in front of the display.

He looks to the old man next to him who easily picks out a bouquet of assorted flowers with a predominantly purple color story. The old man sniffs them, and smiles, before sighing happily. He turns to Atsumu with small nod, “think she’ll like ‘em?”

Atsumu tenses up before offering the old man a small chuckle, “sure is one of the prettiest bouquets in here,” he encourages, and the man hums as he looks around the boquete for any imperfections in the petals. “She’ll be lucky to have them from ya, yessir.”

The man smiles, “no, son; I’m lucky to have her.” He sighs dreamily, “there isn’t enough bouquets in the world to show her how much she means to me.”

Atsumu freezes. For some reason, unbeknownst to him, a lump forms into his throat at the man’s words. He tries to swallow it thickly, keep his emotions at bay before he wails to this strange man about all the ways he’s hurt you over the years and how always, he’s never been able to fully forgive himself despite you assuring that you do.

This argument would be no different.

Atsumu nods his head in understanding, “I think you might be in the same boat as me,” he says, wondering if this man too, is making up for a mistake he made. If this man is trying to repent, and the first way to do it is to bring her flowers, a symbol of a love he’s determined to keep blooming, keep alive, keep beautiful.

But maybe, just maybe, he’s not relying on the fact that flowers are an apology, perhaps they’re being purchased just because, just to make you smile.

Perhaps Atsumu should start doing that for you. Just something nice.

Something to look forward to.

The man chuckles once more; it’s raspy, like perchance he’s one to indulge in a cigarette when the craving arises, but it’s comforting, and for the first time in hours, Atsumu feels a little more at ease.

“At least we’re in the boat, my friend,” the man says. Atsumu swallows thickly once more, but he flashes the man a comforted smile.

“You’re right. We sure are, sir.”

The man bows at the blonde, “you take care of yourself,” he says simply, before coolly turning to make his way to the registers. Atsumu looks back at the boquetes and grabs one that reminds him of you; bright and pristine, like bubbles on a warm day, a warm blanket at night. Like the movie you can repeat by heart by now, but he’ll still watch with you like it’s the first time.

He smiles, sniffles and blinks the sting in his waterline, thrilled to be in the boat with you.

[mallowsweetmiri]

I am foaming at the mouth after Potter!Reader x Remus. Like I’m literally obsessed, perfect characterisation.

I don’t know if you’re taking requests but if you are, would you mind doing a part 2? Maybe more of them sneaking around or James finding out or something I don’t know.

Secret Potter!reader x Remus pt 2

Summary: Remus can’t stop thinking about you, you can't stop kissing him, and Theodore Pompous needs to hide from James

Warnings: smutty, mentions of consent, slight corruption kink

Word count: 3.5k

—————————————————————————

Remus woke up the next morning and sat up in his bed for a full minute thinking, what the fuck have I done? He had fucked his best friend's little sister, and the worst part was, he wanted to do it again. Remus rubbed over his eyes as he got up to use the bathroom. He splashed water on his face and tried to justify what had happened. It wasn't his fault that you teased him all weekend- with a surprising amount of stealth considering James was almost always around the two of you- and then made him feel your soaking panties when he tried to ask for your consent.

"Jesus fucking christ," Remus cursed, grabbing the sink and looking at himself in the mirror. He had to get a grip. By the time he had brushed his teeth, showered, and gotten dressed, it was lunch hours. Remus and the marauders strutted cheerfully down to the Great Hall, despite being at a party the night before. This was routine. Soon they'd be scarfing their faces with toast and sausage and sandwiches.

You had woken up a few minutes later and ended up walking to the Great Hall with Marlene and a few other girls. You were mildly hungover, though by this hour, you were ready to eat. When you walked through the doors, you spotted Remus immediately. He was already watching you as you walked towards the table, sitting down next to James as you did every morning.

"Mornin'," James greeted you, smiling through a mouthful of toast. You raised your brows and tried not to laugh for two reasons. James was staring at you like an idiot, and Remus was staring at your tits.

"Good morning," you laughed, hiding the smile on your lips. You started to fill your plate, intentionally looking away from Remus. He seemed to be nervous. Then you felt James fingers pull back your hair away from your neck.

"Y/N, do you have a hickey on your neck?" James sputtered, moving in closer to stare at it. Your eyes shot up to Remus who was currently looking away from you and your brother.

"So what," you scoffed, fussing his hand away. "You're the one who reminded me of my crush on Theodore. Now you're mad at me for it?"

Remus had to admit, you were a quick thinker. James' face turned a violent shade of red as he shot up to locate Theodore Pompous at the Ravenclaw table. When Remus met your eye, the two of you almost burst out laughing at James' reaction before you sprung up to grab his arm.

"James," you scolded, trying to stifle a laugh. "Seriously, stop. You can't just berate Theodore. That's so rude and there's no reason to." James shook his head at you with an incredulous look.

"No reason-"

"James," Marlene shouted, standing up as well. "Stop it. All of us are tired of you being such a dick to Y/N. You don't see her reacting like this when you have a bit of fun." The other girls murmured in agreement as James' eye twitched.

"Yes, but thats different-"

"Why?" Marlene raised her brow, "Because she's a girl?" The was a series of oooh's and cackles from Sirius and Peter before James begrudgingly sat down and passed a dirty glance your way. At least he was settled for now. James wouldn't continue to press you with Lily and the other girls at your defense.

Lunch went on and Remus came to the conclusion that he was utterly obsessed with you. He wondered if you were still teasing him or if it was just your body taunting him as his eyes kept finding their way to your chest. You had always been drop dead gorgeous. This was fucked. There was no way he’d be able to keep his eyes from wandering to you, and there was even less of a chance that he’d be able to go to whole week without fucking you at least once. He tried to feel bad about it, but that wasn't the case. He wanted you, and there really wasn't anything that was going to stop him from seeing you again.

Remus decided to approach this logically. If he wanted keep fucking you, he'd have to court you. He wouldn't mind that. You enjoyed literature, you were funny, and you were one of the most talented witches in the school. And you were his best friends brother, if he wanted to fuck you today, he'd have to do it in secret to avoid an interfering and angry James.

That's why when he found you studying alone in the library that afternoon, he took the opportunity.

"Hello," Remus cleared his throat, approaching your desk. "Mind if I join you?" Your eyes peered up from your papers momentarily, just enough to acknowledge his presence.

"Sure," you hummed, dipping your quill in the inkwell. "As long as you don't distract me from my work."

Remus huffed out a laugh and pulled a chair up to your table. Even sitting down, his frame towered over yours. You tried to continue writing, but the task felt futile as his knee rested just inches from yours. You sighed and put your quill down, turning to face Remus. His face wore a smile as he threw his hands up in defense.

"Hey, I wasn't even doing anything," he chuckled, watching as you rolled your eyes. A smile crept up to your lips.

"Yeah, yeah, Remus," you grumbled. "Did you want to talk about something?" He huffed out another laugh and you felt his breath on your face, the close proximity making your stomach do a flip. In the low lighting, he looked heavenly.

"Yea, actually. I did want to talk to you about something," his voice lowering as he leaned in. You narrowed your eyes at him as the smirk on his face stayed put. He thought he was hot shit and maybe he was right about that, but you wouldn't let him play with you.

"Hmm, and what would that be?" you asked innocently, looking up at him with your signature doe eyes. He scoffed out a laugh.

"Well, love. To be honest, I can't stop thinking about you," he purred, his arm slinging over the back of your chair as he leaned in even closer. You stifled the urge to press your legs together as his hand played with the hem of your t-shirt, rubbing it in between his fingers.

"Can't stop thinking about how good the sex was?" You teased, leaning in with a mischievous lip bite. This made Remus laugh and you blushed at his genuine smile.

"Straight to the point then," Remus chuckled, looking around the library. "Listen, I don't want to be disrespectful-"

"Okay, let me cut you off right there," you said sternly, pushing your finger into his chest. "If you're going to be scared of my brother, then this isn't going to work. I'm looking for someone who will fuck me and not hold back. If you can't do that, then we shouldn't do this." You finished, turning back to sit properly in your chair. Remus' hand stopped you by the shoulder.

"Love, if I cared about your brother right now I wouldn't be here telling you how badly I need to fuck you again," Remus whispered quickly, his gaze dropping to your lips for a second. Your face flushed immediately as the want between your legs throbbed again.

"Oh," was all you could make out. His smirk annoyingly made another appearance as he chuckled lightly at you, again. His thumb rubbed over the cap of your shoulder as you looked at him with a permanent blush, your lips parted slightly. The smirk slowly faded off his face as he stared at you. He couldn't focus while you were looking at him like that. With that blush on your cheeks, and those plump, pink lips.

"So what's your plan then?" You said, snapping Remus out of his trance. He sat up straighter.

"Meet me in the prefect's bathroom at 9:30," he instructed, his hand moving off your shoulder as he stood up. You smirked up at him as he moved his chair back to the table next to yours.

"I'll be there," you replied, turning back to your notes.

"See you then," Remus smiled, leaving before he lost control and bent you over the table.

Later that night

You padded lightly through the hallways. Curfew wasn't for another 30 minutes, but you tried to stay quiet. Your body buzzed with excitement as you padded up the staircase to the fifth floor. It turned you on that Remus was using his prefect privileges to fuck you in private, and it turned you on even more knowing there was a giant bathtub in the middle of the room. You chuckled lightly to yourself as you came onto the floor, Remus leaning against the wall near the statue. His eyes found your hips as you approached him.

"Hi," you whispered, stepping softly towards him.

"Hi beautiful," he muttered, pushing off the wall to come towards you. You weren't expecting him to kiss you, so a gasp escaped you when he surged forward to press his lips against yours. He grabbed your cheeks to deepen the kiss hungrily. You moaned into him as your fists clasped the front of his shirt, his prefect badge moving with the fabric.

"We should go inside," you gasped, pulling away from his irresistible lips. He hummed in agreement, not quite looking at you. His hands were gripping tightly on your hips like they did the previous night, as if he could barely contain himself. It took a moment but Remus led you through the doors and into the bathroom, dimly lit from the moon and enchanted colored lights. You bit your lip as you watched the water run from the faucets and into the bath, filling the room with steam.

"Let's take this off," Remus purred, coming from behind to kiss your neck. You let out a sigh of relief as he sucked down on your sweet spot, his hands running under your shirt to lift it over your head. You happily obliged and felt Remus groan into your neck as he realized you weren't wearing a bra. You knew this would drive him crazy, and hearing him groan in your ear made you pool between your legs. He pulled your shirt off and spun you around, leaving no time before dipping down to kiss you again. You could hardly think as Remus wrapped his arms around your body, burying into the kiss like he didn't need air. It was mesmerizing, the way your body fit against his. The two of you kissed like that for a while, the steam eventually pooling over both of your skin. It took a few minutes for Remus to stop kissing you, humming multiple times into your mouth before he finally pulled away.

"Rem," you groaned, tugging on the buttons of his shirt to take it off. He was practically soaking through his shirt anyway.

"Let's get in the water."

The two of you stripped and sunk slowly into the bath, Remus' hands pulling you into his lap. When your backside made contact with him, you gasped. His length pressed against you and you were suddenly reminded of how he stretched you out last night. You were glad to be soaking in a hot bath. You barely had time for another thought when he connected his lips with your skin, your head lolling back onto his shoulder as he massaged your thighs.

"Fuck," you groaned as his hands came up to grasp your breast. He hummed in response and bit your earlobe, earning a roll from your hips. His fingers slipped down between your legs, teasing you gently.

"Y/N," Remus breathed, pausing his kissing and earning a hum from you in response. "I want to eat you out."

He didn't wait for your response as he lifted you up and sat you on the edge of the tub, dropping down to his knees and moving between your legs.

"Remus- oh," you moaned as his mouth connected with your clit. You instantly gripped his hair, your head thrown back in an intense wave of pleasure. Remus was making you feel good, and by the way he was groaning into your core and wrapping his hands around your waist, you were pretty sure he was enjoying himself too. You couldn't form words and ultimately found yourself on your back. Remus shifted up higher to kiss your clit deeper, his tongue licking and dipping into your core. His hands stayed put on your hips, his mouth working overtime to send you over the edge.

"Fuck, please Remus," you gasped, you legs locking over his shoulders and bucking up into his face. He only huffed in response as his hands snaked under your back, pulling you deeper into his mouth. You twitched in his grasp, an orgasm teetering as his tongue swiped over your clit.

"So close, Rem," you whine, gripping his curls tighter. Remus could feel you pulse under his tongue, and it took every ounce of control for him to pull away. "Wh-what?" you whine, immediately sitting up to see Remus. He sat there with his arms linked under your legs, his smirk covered in slick down to his chin.

"You want to come for me, Y/N?" Remus teased, leaving wet, open kisses on the inside of your thighs. You whined and he chuckled, looking up at you wickedly through his kisses. "Do you?" He prompted again, moving to the other leg. You groaned with desire.

"Yes, Remus. Please," you cried, tugging on his hair to come towards you again. He hummed out a chuckle into your skin.

"Tell me how badly you want it," Remus challenged you, moving his kisses closer to your center.

"Please, Remus. I want you so badly. I need you. So badly, Remus. Please," you whined, falling on your back and continuing to grasp at his head. You felt the vibrations of his chuckle next to your clit.

"Such a good girl," he mumbled, planting a kiss right onto you. You let out another guttural whine as he continued to tenderly lap at your clit and your entrance, slowly savoring your wetness. You felt your orgasm building once more, sending jolts through your body that increased in force with every movement of Remus' tongue. Your hips were bucking badly, and Remus tightened his grip on you to bury himself once again.

"I'm going to come," you gasped, barely lasting a second longer before spilling into his mouth. The intensity felt doubled this time, and Remus ate you up graciously. You were almost embarrassed by how hard your orgasm had hit you, but Remus didn't seem to mind. In fact, he was moaning into your core as he finished you up.

"You taste so fucking good," Remus groaned as he climbed over you, his tip pressing against your entrance and slipping in momentarily through the slick. You gasped and felt yourself clench around him, still sensitive from his mouth. Remus' hand found the back of your head as he pushed himself into you fully. You gasped and whined simultaneously, digging your nails into his biceps. "Fuck, Y/N. You feel even better." He began to move in and out of you at a torturous pace, his tip burying deep within you. Just when you thought he had bottomed out, he bucked into you with force and moved even deeper inside of you. You let out an unprompted noise which seemed to please Remus as he started pounding into you, forcing noises out of you that were uncontrollable.

"F-fuck, R-remus," you said, your words bouncing with the pace of his thrusts. It was unrelenting, but you were so soft from his mouth that you started to near another orgasm. Your fate was sealed when his thumb came down to find your clit, the pressure of his cock adding to the pleasure immediately.

"So pretty, Y/N," Remus moaned, dipping to press a kiss to your lips. You hungrily returned it, the two of you moaning into each other's mouths as Remus' thrust slowed and deepened. "So. Fucking. Beautiful." He pounded into you, clenching his jaw as he fucked the life out of you. You were tightening, and tightening, and tightening until the coil in your stomach snapped and a rush of release pulsed through your walls. Remus groaned loudly as you felt him collapse into you, his thrusts deep and followed by spurts of warmth inside of you. He thrusted into you lazily, kissing you and rubbing your hips with his thumbs. Like much of the night, the two of you stayed kissing unhurriedly like this. It was only when someone knocked on the door that the two of you moved from your position.

"Thank Merlin you locked the door," you muttered, pulling on your pants after casting a dryer spell over you.

"Heh, I actually didn't. It's just common practice after prefect rounds," Remus laughed sheepishly. "It must be the end of the next shift." Your eyes widened at this as the two of you finished pulling on your clothes and drying off perspectively. You kept close to Remus' back as the two of you moved to leave the bathroom. You heard Remus say something to the other prefect but you didn't look up as you followed Remus out. He ushered you towards the staircase and muttered in your ear, "That was Theodore Pompous." You stifled a laugh as the two of you climbed the stairs. Remus was grinning at the coincidence and teasing you about your old crush. The two of you laughed and blushed and talked quite comfortably next to one another as you neared the Gryffindor tower.

"Do you think anyone will be in the common room?" you asked, lowering your voice and letting go of his hand. Remus shrugged and walked behind you, guiding you to the portrait hole.

"I don't think so. There's an early quidditch practice tomorrow and it's already past curfew," he muttered, giving the fat lady the password and climbing through to the common room. Remus' face hardened when he saw James sitting on the couch, his head turned towards them. He stood up when he saw you enter behind Remus.

"Y/N, what were you doing out past curfew? I was worried. I waited up for you," James frowned at you, his eyes filled with genuine concern. You felt your face flush red, realizing why you were out late. You might as well have been wearing a sign that said we just fucked. Thankfully Remus was exceptionally good at drying charms. 

"I found her sneaking around Ravenclaw Tower," Remus said with a nonchalant nod of the head. "Thought I'd bring her back." 

"Wasn't your shift done thirty minutes ago?" James questioned, stepping closer to Remus who showed no signs of embarrassment or concern.

"Yes, but I told Theodore I'd take his shift in exchange for him doing mine on Sirius' birthday," Remus shrugged. Your mouth formed a straight line as you looked at him. Seriously? That's the best you can come up with? James looked at Remus incredulously.

"Why would you trade shifts with him," James hissed, narrowing his eyes towards him. You started to walk towards your dorm.

"Well, I'm back," you dismissed James with a yawn. "Goodnight, Jamie." James huffed and stepped in front of you, grabbing your hands.

"Y/N, you know I love and respect you," he stared, causing you to roll your eyes by instinct. "But I just want you to be safe. Don't stay out late for some prat who you've hardly even talked to before." You sighed as he looked at you with those James Potter eyes that reminded you of home.

"I know. I'm sorry I worried you," you apologized, looking sympathetically to him. "I'm gonna go to sleep now. Okay?" James let out a sigh of relief as he gave you a hug.

"Goodnight," James called as you went up the stairs.

"Goodnight," you called back, sending Remus a wave. Remus waved subtly back to you before sighing and rubbing his eyes. He hated lying to James, and he hated even more how much he felt like he was corrupting his best friend's little sister. He knew it wasn't true though. You had shown him how badly you wanted him, how much of a slut you were for him... Fuck. Remus wanted you for himself and he wanted you for a long time. He made a vow to ask you out by the end of the week, and to do it with James' blessing.

"Sorry I got a little heated, Moony," James said, turning to face Remus. "I just can't stand the thought of her alone with some random git. Thanks for bringing her back." Remus hummed and nodded.

"It's no problem."

The two of them went up to their dorm and crashed respectively onto their beds. Sirius and Peter were already asleep. Remus laid awake again thinking about you. He thought about your face when you came, and the way you blushed when he teased you. He fell asleep dreaming of you during the summertimes when you would read outside with him and woke up the next morning with a plan. 

[lilbeanblogsabit]

Babysit A Bean 2024 - The Rules

Tumblr Interaction:

Diaper checks! …I might regret this… but diaper checks! From 11/29 to 12/4, I will be answering diaper checks to the best of my ability!  So get 'em out of your system because I won’t do this a ton.  But I figure I’ll need someone to tell me when to change.  

Polls, Polls, and More Polls.  Things like “What diaper should I wear” to “What should I have for dinner” and everything in between.

Lots of updates… some of them more entertaining than others I’d imagine.

Personal: 

Bean must enforce his own bedtimes and mornings.  If he doesn’t get at least 6 hours of sleep a night he gets 1 punishment point per offense, and must take an afternoon nap the day after.  

Bean must eat at least 1 meal a day.  That meal has to be okayed by me or he will earn 1 punishment point.  If he doesn’t have 1 pre-approved meal he will also earn a punishment point.  If Bean only eats a meal that is NOT pre-approved by me, he will earn 2 punishment points.  

Beanie will follow his normal drinking regiment.  Failure to do so is 1 punishment point per offense

Beanie has to send a picture of his playroom to me every night before bed, showing that it is tidy and well kept.  Failure to do so is 1 punishment point per offense

Bean is NOT allowed to sleep in my bed while I am gone.  He will sleep in his playroom.  Failure to do so is 1 punishment point per offense

Beanie is expected to keep up with his daily chores and house upkeep.  Daily FaceTime calls will confirm this.  Failure to do so is 1 punishment point. 

Beanie will put all professional responsibilities above the kinky ones.  Failure to do so is 1 punishment point per offense.

Kinky:

Beanie will be padded 24/7, either in Diapers or Pull ups.  

Beanie will carry a diaper bag wherever he goes.  It can be left in his car, but he is expected to change whenever he needs to, either in a bathroom or in his car.  Failure to do so is 1 punishment point per offense. 

Bean will not be allowed to enter the house from an outing that's over an hour, until he has peed at least once.  

Beanie is expected to keep up with his training so he must do the following. Failure to do any of these is 1 punishment point. 

Wear a plug for at least 2 hours a day

Practice his oral skills on his other cock (...that's what Daddy calls my dildo)

Spend at least 30 minutes a day with Hannah, or her stuffie replacement. 

Beanie will NOT be locked in chastity, unless it is determined he can’t be trusted.  Beanie will be allowed to make cummies, but only if someone tells him he can.  Cumming without permission is an automatic punishment. 

Tasks and Punishments:

Beanie will complete Daddy’s daily task without hesitation by 7:00pm.  If Beanie does not complete a task fully, He earns 3 punishment points.  If Beanie does’t even attempt the task, it will be an automatic punishment.

All Tasks will be confirmed complete by Daddy.

If Beanie earns 5 punishment points a day, he will be punished the following day.

All punishments will be created and dished out by the wonderful @polkadotpuddles since she loves a chance to make me suffer!

…you guys won’t know them until she dishes one out… but trust me they are WAY worse than the tasks Daddy gave me… 

Misc Rules:

All rules are flexible and can be bent if needed.  This is meant to be fun! Not meant to drive Bean insane.  

All tasks and Punishments will need photo/video proof.  Proof will be published on Bean’s blog.  If it is too blushy, proof will be submitted to Daddy and he will verify. 

Link to Main Post: *Click Here*

Link to Daily Tasks: *Click Here*

[akuma-tenshi]

finished closing night!! boy do i have some thoughts. and now that i've gathered them, i'm about to make my autism your problem. spoilers below.

the first part of the event wasn't awful imo, it felt like character building and just helping establish the dynamic. i know some people weren't fond of it but given that i was never really that invested in hullabaloo before this and didn't know every little detail of these characters, it was nice to get some character establishment and figure out how they all are as people. i am also a fan of slowburn character-focused horror, so that may just be a personal taste thing lmao

bryce papenbrook does a good job as mike, even though there are definitely points where he sounds exactly like nagito (namely the scene where he's shouting at margaretha in the foyer). he has a very particular way of speaking / voicing characters that make it immediately clear it's him. however, i do think he fits mike well and he definitely lays off the nagito-ness in the second part.

the rest of the cast was excellent as well. while there was a Choice made with murro's voice (he sounds WAY younger than he's supposed to be, which is off-putting and takes me out every time he speaks), it's very clear everyone knows their characters well and they all do a good job keeping their mannerisms and vocalisations unique and fitting to each role. aside from some awkward lines (which i attribute more to stilted writing than to the va's themselves), the voice acting is absolutely a highlight.

margaretha's trauma with sergi is portrayed very well imo. bear in mind i have not suffered the same abuse as her, so i can't say how accurate or good it is, but it feels like it displays that it was a terrible thing while also being respectful and avoiding being exploitative. the added layer that everyone else (except joker) liked sergi and was unaware of the abuse adds a lot.

in general, i think mike and margaretha are incredibly well-written here. i think ne could've absolutely gone the route of popular fan interpretations and completely demonised margaretha while making mike a perfect angel, and they would've gotten a lot of praise for it. but they stuck to their guns and made them both very flawed yet understandable people, and that just makes everything feel that much more real, at least to me. they're such different people with opposing goals, and their friction really comes through. everyone else is very well done (shoutout to me a couple of hours ago calling joker cute for some godforsaken reason i can't remember) and i love all of their characterisations, but mike and margie really are the standouts here.

i do wish there was a bigger payoff for margaretha using euphoria so frequently. i know it's implied to have been involved in violetta's death, and i appreciate the connection to game 5, but i wish there was a little bit more there. it's not a huge gripe though, so i won't harp on it for long.

the pacing at the start of the second part had me extremely worried; things felt like they were dragging along and being padded out for the sake of being padded out, and i was not having fun with it. fortunately, this issue was remedied about halfway through, and once things got going, i started really enjoying myself. the pacing of the first half of part two is my biggest gripe with this story.

i was noticing a lot of similarities between hullabaloo and fool's gold: hunter forms of popular survivors being announced and used as a major part of marketing for an update to the idv story. with the aforementioned pacing issues, i was really worried that hullabaloo's reveal would shape up to be similar to fg's: a kinda cool cutscene and a lame chase sequence at the very end of a long, boring storyline. however, despite hullabaloo having a much smaller part in this story than fg did in aom, appearing only briefly in the fire at the very end, i still think it's a better incorporation of the character than what they did with norton. better to have it be quick and intimidating than just kinda tedious.

every death in this (aside from joker's) felt very purposeful and well-done. violetta's death was heartbreaking. the change in animation towards the end, followed by the single sound of her machinery giving out after the screen went black, was beautiful, and hey, at least she died happy. margaretha's death pulled at a very specific and very major love i have in storytelling, that being a character choosing to die free rather than live in captivity, and the payoff of all the underwater scenes where she swims towards sergi finally coming through when she chooses to sink away from him had me losing my mind. i genuinely did not expect mike's death to be a straight-up suicide; like i said, i'm not completely caught up on hullabaloo lore, so maybe other people saw this coming, but the fact that he truly could not live with the truth about hullabaloo is such a heartwrenching yet satisfying end to his character. like i said, joker's is the only death that doesn't totally stand out, but i like that they let you put the pieces together yourself.

the chase sequence with joker was unintimidating and a little lame, and honestly it felt somewhat forced, just a way to get his hunter form in there bc they realised "oh shit right this guy's like. a hunter isn't he." i do like that they gave him back his chainsaw though; very nice little callback to the betas.

the animation of the hullabaloo fire was absolutely gorgeous and the ending had me in shambles. for a while afterwards i felt similar to how i felt after finishing end roll: drained and flat but in a good way, like a ton of adrenaline had just released from my body after some intense event.

all in all, i really enjoyed it. i can't say if i like it more than aom, but that may be the frederick bias coming through, so i'm going to choose not to rank them and just say hey. banger event. well worth the hype even with its hiccups and flaws. i always say this, but idv has some genuinely talented people in its writers' room, and i can't wait to see what they come out with next.

[kathlare]

between the quite moments

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: A quiet day unfolds in Amelie’s simple apartment, offering a glimpse into the contrast between her relentless schedule and fleeting moments of peace with Lando. As they navigate the calm together, their time is filled with humor, mundane activities, and an undeniable connection, highlighting how love thrives in the ordinary.

Wordcount: 1.1 k

Warnings: just fluff

June 12th, 2024 - Indianapolis, IN

The soft hum of the air conditioning was the only sound in Amelie’s apartment as sunlight streamed through the wide windows. It was simple, almost painfully so, with sleek modern furniture that looked more functional than inviting. The neutral tones of the space felt impersonal, a far cry from the warmth of her home in New York. She didn’t bother decorating it—what was the point when it wasn’t home? But at least her cats made it feel a little less empty.

Lando groaned as he rolled over on the bed, squinting against the morning light. It was too damn early, but his internal clock was still set to European time. He glanced at the other side of the bed, already empty. Of course. Amelie had been up for hours.

Dragging himself out of bed, he shuffled to the kitchen, scratching the back of his neck. The cats were already awake and clearly unimpressed by his delayed attention. Björn, the wild little troublemaker, was batting at an empty food bowl, while Benny lounged on the couch, looking smug as ever.

—Alright, alright, I get it,— Lando muttered, grabbing the bag of cat food from the counter. Björn meowed insistently, circling his legs like a predator. —You’re worse than Max when he’s hungry.—

He filled their bowls, watching as Björn practically attacked his food while Benny sauntered over with the kind of regal air that suggested he was doing Lando a favor by eating at all.

—Good morning to you too, Your Highness,— Lando said, giving Benny a scratch behind the ears before grabbing a cup of coffee.

The apartment was too quiet without Amelie, and he already missed her presence despite having spent every waking moment with her since the Governor’s Ball. He smiled at the thought—how her eyes had lit up when she’d seen him in New York, how they’d danced and laughed like the rest of the world didn’t exist.

But Indianapolis was... different. It wasn’t glamorous or bustling like New York. It was quiet, almost eerily so. And Amelie’s schedule here was relentless. He was determined to make the most of the week he had with her, even if it meant figuring out how to navigate her insane filming hours.

As if on cue, the front door creaked open, and Amelie walked in, balancing a tote bag and a cup of coffee. She looked exhausted, her hair pulled into a messy bun and her face free of makeup, but she still managed to take his breath away.

—You’re awake,— she said, kicking off her sneakers.

—Barely,— Lando replied, setting his mug down and walking over to her. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close. —I don’t know how you do it. It’s not even noon, and you’ve already been out and back.—

—Welcome to my life,— she said with a tired laugh, resting her forehead against his chest. —It’s only going to get worse. I have a night shoot later.—

Lando groaned dramatically. —A night shoot? What am I supposed to do all day without you?—

—Entertain my cats. They’re more demanding than I am,— she teased, pulling back to look at him.

—Björn’s a little shit,— Lando said, glancing at the wild tabby who was now scaling the back of the couch like a jungle cat. —He tried to kill me this morning.—

—That’s just his way of saying he likes you,— Amelie said, grinning. —And Benny?—

—Benny’s chill. He’s my favorite.—

—Traitor,— Amelie said, smacking his arm lightly.

They spent the rest of the morning lounging around the apartment. Amelie caught up on some lines for a scene she was filming later, while Lando sprawled on the couch, scrolling through memes and occasionally tossing toys for the cats.

By mid-afternoon, boredom got the best of him.

—Let’s do something,— he said, stretching his arms above his head.

—I have to be back on set in three hours,— Amelie reminded him, not looking up from her script.

—Three hours is plenty of time! Let’s explore or... I don’t know, eat something that isn’t cereal.—

Amelie rolled her eyes but smiled. —Fine. Let’s go.—

They ended up at a small café down the street, the kind of place that felt like it belonged in a Hallmark movie. The waitress recognized Amelie instantly, but she didn’t make a big deal about it, much to Lando’s relief.

As they sat outside, sipping iced coffee and picking at a shared slice of pie, Lando leaned back in his chair and took in the quiet street.

—This place is... quaint,— he said, trying to find a polite word.

—It’s boring as hell,— Amelie said bluntly. —Don’t sugarcoat it.—

Lando laughed. —Alright, yeah. It’s boring as hell. But you make it bearable.—

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide her smile. —You’re such a dork.—

They walked back to the apartment hand in hand, and for a moment, it felt like the calm before the storm. Amelie had a long night ahead, and Lando knew their time together was fleeting, but he was determined to make the most of it.

That evening, as Amelie got ready to head back to set, Lando found himself alone with the cats again. Benny curled up next to him on the couch while Björn darted around the apartment like a lunatic. He sent Amelie a text.

Lan🧡: Good luck tonight. Don’t let Vecna scare you too much.

Ames💛: Vecna’s got nothing on Björn. That cat’s a menace.

Lando chuckled, glancing at the tabby who was now clawing at a random corner of the rug.

This wasn’t the glamorous life he’d imagined when he’d flown from Canada to surprise her in New York. But sitting there, in her plain, simple apartment, surrounded by her chaos and her cats, he realized something.

He didn’t care where they were or what they were doing. As long as he was with her, he was happy.

[neetily]

Kinktober 2024 — Werewolf Alex

— ✧ pairing: Alex / F!Reader — ✧ genre: smut 18+ — ✧ word count: 6,856 — ✧ warnings: noncon, werewolf, A/B/O, knotting, pet names (pup), established relationship, breeding, size difference, biting, cervix fucking — ✧ synopsis: you were never meant to and he didn't mean to. you have to understand...

— ✧ A/N: we are SO late to posting this but yknow what. it's posted. thats all that matters. thank you for waiting for me mwah mwah much appreciated please enjoy idk if its good or not i havent written in so long thank you x

— ✧ kinktober masterlist

The end of the month is always a difficult time, right? It’s hard to relax when knowing that the next working period is just right around the corner, haunted by visions of dirt and hay in the corner of his eye. Like a ghost of continuous hardship— he assumes it’s that way for everyone, though not least for him especially. Completely spent, hours toiling over ripe land—the life of a farmer, he knows, he isn’t complaining beyond reason—has left his muscles all sore and aching, straining against the skin surrounding it with bulging exhaustion. If he’s feeling this weak and tired himself, then he can’t imagine just how bad you must feel every month… A pang of guilt leaving him momentarily breathless as he considers his appreciation of you; he can do better, no doubt.

But he especially feels lacking tonight, cosied up in bed with you beneath him, moonlight pouring in from the forgotten about blinds in the dead of night with stark remembrance. It’s a little cold, he thinks. A shivering running up his spine at the chill that envelops him whole, one that he tries to spare you from lest you’re forced to endure the unkind nature of the night with him.

Well, any more than you’ve already had to, anyway.

He’s sure that the nights are long for someone like you, manual labour wearing you down day in and day out… Perhaps the number one thing you look forward to is those comfy bed sheets you currently lay upon at the end of every night. Soft and sleek, slinking over your body with only the utmost of care— it sounds nice! Real nice. He’s aware of how hard you work and, subsequently, how hard you must rest. But selfishly, he thinks that nights like these might just be a little more difficult for someone like him, for someone undergoing his predicament.

Farm work is hard, but have you ever experienced complete and utter transformation in the light of the night? A horror in its own right, from scraggly fur to his shortened temper… It’s scary for him too, y’know? Exhausting, actually, to go through such change in such a short amount of time. Just a little window of moonlight, that’s all it takes for him to forget about his humanity, even in the face of your utter innocence. Have you ever felt the hardship of turning into that which you hate at the end of every month? Regardless of your own wants or wishes?

No, he didn’t think so.

He’d warned you beforehand at the very least. Given the state of things, he felt he owed you the bare minimum of that. He wouldn't be a very good boyfriend if he hadn’t, right? Now, he knows that he’s not responsible for his actions after the fact! He did his due diligence and you decided to ignore him. It’s not his fault. He did his best.

Oh, but as he stares down at you through hazy eyes, taking in the sight of your big wet puppy stare back up at him, he can feel the remainder of his humanity beg for a much needed break. Fluffy wolf ears twitching in contradictory excitement when you whine up at him in assumed confusion, long well groomed tail swishing from side to side eagerly behind him when you avoid his half-lidded gaze. He fucking warned you, little pup. Fucking knew that this would happen at some point, though he thought he’d have taught you better by now. Advising you against his pearly white fangs that shine in the moonlight swimming in from your bedroom window, urging you to leave him and his sharp claws all alone tonight like every end of the month, but oh, they look so nice when digging gently into your soft skin, right?

And, more than anything, he warned you of his inability.

He’s always prided himself on his ability, first and foremost. Strong, well cared for muscles bulging under the weight of the moon tonight, his efforts to be reliably strong for you have paid off in the worst ways possible, right? Knees firmly planted by either side of your hips, half his weight keeping you pinned atop the soft bed sheets he’d helped you pick out one day in town. You were right, they are pretty, and they do compliment you well… particularly when you’re wriggling around on them, attempting to worm your way out of the sticky situation you’ve now found yourself in. Because don’t be mistaken, this is your own fucking fault, pup.

And yet still, here he is, utterly incapable. The complete opposite of everything he’s ever wanted and strived for, an ache clawing at his chest far deeper than he claws at your waist at the realisation that he’s failing you right now. He wants to be better for you, chewing on his bottom lip enough to taste just a sting of metallic as his brows furrow in sheer concentration of the taste, veins popping in his arms in a subconscious attempt to hold back in spite of your stupidity tonight.

“… Warned ya.” He eventually mutters mid leering, huffing to exhale a stagnant sigh he hadn’t meant to hold. As if doing so would somehow temper him, keep you safe on the pretty bed sheets in his strong arms like you were earlier, back when he was frantically warning you to get away— “Sorry— I jus’, fuck, would ya quit fuckin’ squirmin at least—”

Cause you’re making it worse. Not just for him, though his fat cock throbs with barely restrained want at all the wiggling around you’re doing; even if it’s useless. You haven’t a hope in fucking hell of escaping him, not with how hard he trains his muscles just for you. But also, you’re making the situation worse for yourself… You really should have left him when he’d given you the choice, escaped somewhere, fuck, anywhere but right next to him, let alone in your own fucking bed. All you’re really doing is riling him up further simply by existing, pushing him closer to the edge he’s so dangerously perched upon, pleading for him to take that final plunge. And like the loyal little mutt he’s always been for you, he wants for nothing more than to please you. Give you exactly what you’re asking for, panting and pleading for the opportunity to, really.

Which is unfortunate, because he really can’t help himself when it comes to you. Never has been able to, and he bets he never will be able to. That is, providing you stick around him after tonight… Of which he’d never blame you for rejecting the offer, given how mean he’s been to you thus far— and that’s while trying to stay composed, too. You’ve got no fucking idea what the night has in store for you, and the thought alone has excitement welling up in his already racing heart. God he loves you. Fuck he wants to ruin you.

Don’t ever fucking leave me. I need you, you don’t understand—

“Mate—” he growls at you, chest rumbling with obvious affection, throat tight with choked up lust. “My mate.”

“Alex— W-wait, please—!”

You sound so soft right now. Scared, like a little animal. A mere pup to his much larger wolf stature, shivering with inherent submission as he paws and plays at every inch of skin he can reach. The moon hangs high in the sky for him, whispering sweet nothings down his ear with promises of forever— all it takes is one night to secure his place by your side forever. Forever and ever, his half lidded gaze stuck on your tummy as you attempt once more to flee his bruising grip, though the attempt is pitiful. He could fill you up so well y’know? Give you so many cute little pups— oh, and he just knows with a twitch of his cock that you’d be the best mama in the world. His perfect little mate; don’t you want that as badly as he does? Don’t you wanna be his pretty princess pup forever? He always imagines it, yknow. Thinks about it every time he fucks his fist silly, especially during his red hot heats when he’s left to fend for himself. Always thinking about you. Always wanting you. Just you. And the way you’re gasping and shaking from under him tells him that you like the lewd idea just as much as he does, right?

Because where you might babble for a break, your body is at least being more honest with him in place of your verbal lies. And he forgives you for that, for letting your inherently needy nature communicate with his own whether intentional or not. You can’t hide from him, he’s your mate, remember?

But to shut you up for a moment, he pinches at your waist a little harder than necessary. He doesn’t mean to, baby, but you have to understand his position here…

Cock rock hard before you, standing tall and proud as it bobs with precum adorning his red hot tip, arms tense and muscles taut under the amount of restraint he has to exude in order not to split you in half right this very second. You have to understand, that as the moon shines upon his back and his wolfish tail wags happily from side to side, that he’s no better than a mere predator animal right now. The man you’ve come to love and adore is there, distantly, behind the wolf mask smirking down at you.

You’re lucky he even gave you a warning at all, y’know? Not many of his kind would offer you the same sanctuaries.

He’s not sure where your sudden bravery has came from tonight, but he’s not one for complaining. You’ve left him to deal with his heat all alone on many occasions as per his wanting, and things have been just fine, right? You’re still with him for the time being, still consider him your boyfriend, right? He doesn’t understand why you’d ruin it all tonight, everything he’s worked so hard for previously. Doesn’t get why you’d prompt him into pinning you onto the bed with teeth bared and cock out; he can never stand the feeling of fabric rubbing against his heated skin every time his heat comes along. All scratchy and wrong, and besides— doesn’t it feel better to be bare? To be in your most natural state possible? It makes sense, given his animalistic nature.

And it’s only a once a month annoyance anyway. Trivial in the grand scheme of things, no? You really should have been a good girl like how you usually are and stayed the fuck away from him given his genuine pleading, but alas, here he tugs on your pretty skin just for idle fun until you settle down a bit. He can only hold off his instincts for so long, y’know?

And never long enough for you to go back on your stupid decision, that’s for sure.

Y’know, it was just so easy for him to undress you too, like you secretly wanted this to happen deep down. Hell, he has half a mind to actually believe that despite your thrashing around as he pulls and tears items of clothing from your heated body, that you do want this. Maybe you’re just playing hard to get, offering him a little fight to help kick start his prey drive— nothing but the best for you. And well, he can hardly blame you if that’s the case, given how hard his heart thumps with sheer awe upon gazing at your shivering naked frame, gaze glued to your perfect tits that his paws automatically grope at as if magnetic. As if home; he’s only doing what comes natural to him. And he could never be blamed for that, right? What’s natural is never wrong, surely.

“Sorry,” he’s not really, it’s just the he doesn’t know what else to say in the moment. Doesn’t understand how he could possibly bite back the moons influence on his hormones, a shiver running up his spine at the way you inadvertently rub your exposed tummy against his hot cock. Tip just drooling all over your front, a copious amount of precum to help aid in his sole goal tonight. “Don’t mean t’make ya wait.”

You just look so pretty when struggling for him like this, writhing around on the sheets with a wobble on your lips, you wear fear so well, such a little fucking tease aren’t you? The way your brows furrow before him in concentration—or is it upset? He doesn’t care much either way, really—is so fucking hot to him, has his cock twitching and trembling against your soft, breedable body with insatiable need.

“Alex, I— I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t— Didn’t mean to, I didn’t know—”

Bullshit, he seethes to himself upon hearing your lies, huffing with an air of arrogance while rolling his eyes at your misfortune. You fucking knew. Knew exactly what you were getting into tonight, and he’d even go so far as to claim that you want it too. After all, after tonight, you’ll be his pretty puppy mate. And nobody knows his mate better than he does, right?

Which is why he takes to cooing down at you gently. A sickly sweet attempt to warm you up— though he’s sure his excess pheromones will do much of the heavy lifting for him. Exuding his scent all over you, wrapping his tail around one of your legs to softly soothe and relax you into compliance. “Shh,” he whispers down at you, though he can feel the way his expression tugs into one of pain and suffering. Because it hurts to hold himself back for you, physically fucking pains him to keep himself in check for your own safety. If he had it his way you’d be face down ass up on the bed at this point already, but he’s not so far gone as to act the simple animal just yet. There’s still time. “S’okay, lemme take care of ya…”

The weight he pushes down on you from sitting on your lap is enough to keep you in one place for his affections, letting his cock rub along your tummy and pelvis, smearing precum all over your front as if claiming you in the meantime. His claws, once digging into your hips, take to travelling lightly up and down your sides to lull you into a false sense of security. Opening you up to what will come whether you like it or not, simply because it’s in your best interests to lay there and fucking take it— God, fuck… he’s already so hard for you, dripping his stink all over your pretty body to assert his dominance over such a lowly pup such as yourself.

Though what’s important is that you’re his lowly pup. All mine, mine, mine.

And the little squeals and kicks you let out only serve to turn him on further, cock pulsing and fucking begging for more, to feel the too tight squeeze of your cunt as a promise of shared devotion so late at night. It’s almost romantic, he muses to himself, if not for the brutal aspect of his transformation. His ears instinctively turn downwards at the thought, an unspoken apology— though he doesn’t stop. Can’t, really.

All hunched back and muted growls, he simply towers over you. There’s no chance of escape, no way you could ever get out from under him. And that, the complete and utter lack of control you currently have in the situation, turns him on more than anything else. Having you rely on him for anything and everything, just fucking gets to him, y’know? Tail travelling over your legs to leave your knees all wobbly before wagging eagerly behind himself.

You’re lucky he’s been able to hold back till now.

Heat overtakes him at the sight of your attitude, warmth swallowing his lungs whole with a mere gasp escaping him. Its like a light switch goes off in his mind, spurred on by your petulant demeanour— a deep rooted need to prove himself to you, to have you submit, preferably willingly, under his rough touch and leering eyes. The moon commands it, he simply perks his ears up to listen to her call.

“Sit still a minute,” he hums at you, tongue poking at the inside of his cheek to puff it out a little, a subconscious display of dominance as he manhandles you into proper mounting position with such ease even he’s a little surprised at himself. Causing you to squeak as he flips you over so that your face is squished into the soft pillows below, and his bulging arm can hook under your tummy to hoist your ass up in the air for his own selfish enjoyment. The heat, no doubt, has increased his strength. Always does, which is in part why he’d rather you’d leave him alone when the full moon comes. Your pretty little human body is no match for his fur coat.

Little lamb just wanted to offer herself up for the slaughter, didn’t you?

“Alex,” you cut him off with such a scathing tone, the tasty fear dripping your words as he shifts himself to be in a better position to give you exactly what you want in spite of your bodily actions has his heart skipping a loving beat. Like yeah, you should be scared of me. “I—” you attempt to follow up with something less important than his growls, but his harsh hand shoves your face further into the pillow below to shut you up once and for all, to teach you not to interrupt his concentration, or his begging cock that pushes and rubs pre all over your ass cheeks now that he’s primed and ready to mount.

Though he can still feel the twinge of sorry caught in the back of his throat, the way his cock twitches against your shivering frame when he dips the tip down automatically—instinct imploring him to go on, take what’s rightfully yours—the more beastly side of his existence easily convinces him to continue. Pointing his ears in your direction to hear those yummy muted sobs as the tip of his cock grazes against your soaked little slit and— oh, his pheromones are working, right? Either that, or, like he thinks, you fucking want this. Somewhere, deep down in that sexy little wiggling about body of yours, you crave his pups, don’t you?

And, well… Even if you don’t, you’re gonna get em anyway. Because your body is at least asking for it, and he promised to look after you. Every part of you, regardless of whether you ask for it or not— it’s the job of the alpha, right?

Poor little pup, he sighs to himself, one hand keeping your face smooshed against the pillows, while the other automatically takes to wagging his cock between your legs, teasing that puffy little cunt with his sheer weight and size. Everything about him increases during his heat; an attempt to secure a good mate, he thinks. Certainly not to attract a human such as yourself, but alas, he’s hoping that the meagre teasing he provides to your swollen cunt will be enough to help you take him somewhat at least. He’d ordinarily want to, and does, offer you far more in the way of warming you up to his sheer size, but the night wont last forever. And he can feel the ache of need well up in his tummy the longer he stares down at your slit with lust filled hearts in his eyes. Ogling at the tiny little peek of cunt your arched back position offers him, biting down on his bottom lip to suppress a lewd groan from escaping at the shiny slick that coats his cock all sticky with the shaking he does— tail and all.

He’s got alpha appearances to keep up with after all.

Precum oozes from his tip as he idly wags it against you to tempt your submission, humming groans and growls down at you in the meantime. “Behave,” he huffs when you still yet attempt to escape his grip, only prompting him into adding more pressure to your head to help pin you in place. “You’ll get it, fuck— wan’ it so bad, dont’cha?” he lulls, mind fogged with lust as the ache in his balls grows bigger and bigger and—

Ah, he’s rutting against you now. It’s hardly surprising given how hard you tug around his cock, writhing around like a little slut just for him. It’s nice, that despite how much your lips lie against the sheets, your pretty puppy pussy drools honesty all over him. And he wants so badly to lap it all up for you, clean you up empty with flat tongued sucks and greedy gulps, but his cock fucking hurts when pulsing against you. An insatiable need to breed buried deep down in his soul, a tutting scold escaping him when he realises just how long he’s made you wait. That’s not very nice of him, is it?

“S’okay,” he reassures you with a full fanged smile on his lips. It’s short lived, wiped from his expression the moment he leans into the slow thrusts against your slit and fuuuuck— he’s so fucking sensitive, shit. Got the heat to thank for that, pleasure shivers running along his spine to leave him gasping for air simply from a little petting. Like he’s the pup, and not the wolf his appearance dictates otherwise. “Gonna— fuck me—” he can’t fucking focus, cutting himself off as his eyes roll to the back of his skull as if to signal that the transformation is complete, that he is now the wolf in sheeps clothing. Dragging his hips back to let his cock run along the line of your slit, pushing it upwards so that your folds wrap around his girth and— yeah, yeah, “That’s it,” he huffs from behind you, tip pressed dangerously close to your twitchy hole. This is it, God, he can’t wait to fucking take what belongs to him. “Atta girl—! You got it, promise t’take it real nice an’ slow fr’ya.”

He’s smiling wide and toothy to try and hide his lie, because he knows that he wont be able to last like that. Not with his favoured mate bent over before him like a bitch in heat.

He supposes you are now, at least in theory. Soon to be practice.

And it’s so easy for him to let go in the end. Disregard those well intentions he’s spent so long building up for you, casting your wellbeing aside in the selfish pursuit to do only what comes natural to him, which is to say… It’s so easy for him to tilt his hips at the right angle so that his tip catches on your hole, and the resulting squeal you sound from your pillow muffler has a fat bead of milky pre rolling out to leave you stickier than before.

Remember: he gave you his warning. Whatever happens tonight, it’s your fault.

But he doesn’t blame you too much, not when he starts to push his soaked with pre tip inside of sopping cunt, letting it dip into your hole enough to hear you gasp at the unnatural stretch already. Poor babe, he’s struggling too! Holding his breath as a means to concentrate on just how unreal you feel right now, immediately squeezing down on his throbbing cock, choking every slow inch he manages to shove inside of you with impatient minuscule humps. He even whines in sheer sexual frustration over just how much he wants it, how badly he needs to split you in two on his cock, desperately in puppy love with how good you’re making him feel. Got the big bad wolf keening for more, like he was a filthy fucking virgin all over again—

Ah, but you’re just so tiny, and he’s just so big. Comparatively, at least. Little puppy cunt doing her best to accommodate his girth, but no amount of lube could ever hope to have him squeeze in his full size any time soon. And though he may be lost in your tight heat, hazy eyes struggling to take in the sight of your sobbing frame, he’s not evil. Not even as he forces you to endure the burn of his cock humping into you bit by bit, the veins running along it throbbing with every squeal and mewl you let out in response to his bullying, he doesn’t want to hurt you. Not intentionally.

Then he’d have no mate to play with, y’know?

Selfishly, he hunches over you, ‘accidentally’ fucking more of his cock inside of you until you sob in too much pain. Mumbled sorries drip from his puffy lips, bitten bloody from how downright difficult it is for him to treat you with any ounce of respect, especially when his body is practically screaming at him to rail your shape into the mattress under you right this second, to fuck you straight into next week with wobbly legs. But the new angle he provides is a deeper one, greedily so. Instincts kicking in full swing when you wiggle around to attempt getting comfortable on the end of his fat cock— he’s barely even fucked any of it inside of you yet, puppy…

And yet, he finds himself gasping for air alongside you. Forcing his way inside of your too tight little cunt with eager huffs and knowing growls. You’re just so soft and squishy, like what a good little pup should be, gushing around his cock as he pours precum against your hot insides. His tail straightens in his efforts, as if to help him worm his way inside of your tight cunt just a little more, fully gasping for air as the tightness and wetness of your creamy cunt has knocked the wind out of him.

For such a big alpha wolf, all it takes is one little pretty princess pussy to render him stupid, huh? Truly fucking dumb, tongue lolling out from his open maw as he moans openly in enjoyment, pleasure prompting his toes to curl as you attempt to claw away from his unfair little humps, but he’s far too strong for you, isn’t he? Got you pinned pretty in place, hovering over you to completely encase your meagre frame under his much larger stature— he can see the swish of his tail from side to side cast in the shadow he causes above you.

He shifts his weight around a little, letting his sweaty front rest heavily upon your sweaty back while he pins your wrists above your head. Surely causing you to fall off balance and fold into the sheets a little more in the process, but it’s this action that finally allows his sopping tip to kiss against your cervix, and a low howl to escape his dry throat in utter enjoyment. All scratchy and rough, crawled up to his lips automatically as his grip on you tightens, claws digging into your soft skin for better leverage.

“Fuck—” escapes him, hushed and whined with a droop of his ears. Maybe you were right, maybe he should be fucking you for every rut, right? The sobs of pleasure you let out upon the pop of his cock filling your poor little angel cunt right up convinces him to continue, humming to himself as he pats your ass once or twice as encouragement. You’ve got him feeling better than he’s ever felt before, stark hot stimulation coursing through his veins as your tiny hole squeezes the life out of him so well— “Feels good, right?” he huffs just as much for himself as he’s trying to rile you up some more too, taking in the sounds of your gratification before matching you with his own happy sounds. Smiled moans pressed right against the shell of your ear— of course you’re enjoying being filled to the brim with his fat cock, yeah? You wouldn’t be shivering otherwise, he thinks to himself. Wouldn’t be mewling his name over and over again all pretty like that, high pitched and broken, vibrating with excitement as he lets his fat wolf cock rest heavily inside of your hole for a moment or two. Not for your own benefit or anything, but because he’s sure that if he were to move immediately, he’s bust a load before even getting to fully enjoy himself.

And he wants to fuck you into submission too, remember? He cant rightly do that if he cums within seconds like some sort of loser. No, he’s your alpha wolf mate. And he intends on taking care of you, because it’s whats best for you, especially given the way your cunt leaks all over his cock all pretty and sticky like that, dripping down the length of it and onto his balls, and—

Oh. He’s only managed to fuck half his cock inside before you’re fit to burst. The remaining half still pulses outside, jealous no doubt of the warmth his tip his currently experiencing. It’s a shame, of course, that this is all you can manage at the moment, but he’s willing to wait for you. Willing to fuck you again and again during this heat, and for the future heats he’s sure to experience. There’s no escaping them really, so you should be happy to deal with that which you’ve caused. Willing to fuck you until your meek little body learns to accept his full fat cock.

He’s happy enough to fuck you wide open eventually, internally promising to himself to train your cunt to accept his affections sooner rather than later. But it’s difficult to deny just how good it feels to know that he’s so much physically bigger and stronger than you are, as well as the obvious ego stroking your cunts doing to him right now. Stroking him almost as well as she does his cock, squirming around him so well that he has to hang his head lower against you in sheer enjoyment, a greedy curse escaping him in the motion, prompting a small huff to escape your squished lips.

He can’t help himself any longer.

“Gonna ruin you,” he starts, voice low and tense, just like his muscles as he tugs on your body to get you situated perfectly on his cock. Still his hands remain on your wrists, keeping you sufficiently pinned in place, but his other hand spreads your ass cheeks apart so that he can enjoy the sight of your hole twitching around his assaulting cock. “An’ don’t be shy,” he teases, flashing his fangs as a display of dominance even if you can’t see him right now. Surely you can hear his taunts loud and clear through your babbles and bubbles of sobs, picking up on the dominance of his pheromones, right?

“Wanna hear jus’ how much y’enjoy it, kay?”

And he doesn’t give you much of a chance to respond before taking what he wants from you, well past his limits of holding back by now, all thanks to how inherently lewd you’re being for him tonight. Ignoring his well meaning warnings, wiggling your ass impatiently on his cock, and sobbing for more— it’s obvious that he couldn’t refrain from indulging in your sweet scented cunt; he can practically taste the want dripping from your twitchy hole.

Relenting to his natural wolfish instincts, he gives you exactly what you need.

A good dicking down, yeah? A nice, breeding, fuck.

There’s no tenderness to his actions as he pulls his hips back once more, letting just his tip remain inside for you to cry about so sweetly that his cock trembles against you, and there’s similarly no love to be found in his full force slam back inside— unfair in his affections, selfishly seeking to fulfil his sole reason for existing through your tiny little body; God, he could fucking eat you right up if you’d only let him. He just might anyway, regardless of your consent.

Because that’s how fucking feral he feels right now. Unable to listen to reason, or even his own humanity for that matter. Turned into a useless fucking dog at the whim and mercy of his precum coated cock. For all you probably care, he’s a mere tail wagging, drool spilling, hips swinging, fucking dog right now. Fucking into you at such a brutal pace— you aren’t so used to the strength he gains from heats, he’s made sure of that, though he normally has a decent weight behind his thrusts when fucking into you like an animal, there's just something more about him when he inhabits his instincts, right? Complete brutality, an utter disregard for anything other than how good he feels. The bed immediately creaking under your shaking body to match your girlish squeaks thanks to his rash thrusts, fucking as much of his cock inside of you as he can; which is merely half, still, despite the endless supply of lube he offers you. Tiny little puppy, you’re sooooo fucking cute, it’s unfair!

And for a moment he’s choked. Cock and throat, really. In awe at the way you do your best to take him in spite of the stupid size difference, his knees digging into the sheets below to keep himself stable enough to fuck you raw and heavy. Fuck you like you deserve to be, ruin that pretty little pussy, yeah? He’s only returning the favour considering the sheer amount of overstimulation your tight cunt is sucking him into right now has truly ruined him from spending his heats alone. This is what you deserve, yeah? For not leaving him alone like he’d asked.

Oh, but he forgives you for it. Truly, he does. For if not for your stubborn nature, he wouldn’t get to experience the sight of your cream frothing a ring around the mid of his cock like you’re doing right now, body jerking up the bed from how heavy his frantic thrusts are inside of your tight hole. He’d be disallowed from listening to your cute cries for more if you hadn’t been so adamant on sticking around, the mix of no and stop sound so pretty and broken when falling from your lips, got his hips pumping in and out faster out of pure need to hear you make more of those pitiful sounds alone.

You truly are the perfect mate for him.

Nobody else would have him acting this unruly, fucking into your tight little cunt like a man starved, unable to keep up with the brutal pace he’s set for himself as he humps your hole raw. And God, he’s never felt so fucking good before, completely giving in to his selfish desires as he lets go of your wrists now that you’re sufficiently fucked out on half his cock, only to immediately paw and grab at your pretty hanging tits as they bounce in his clawed hands and fuck, he can feel the tacky sheen of sweat line his forehead as he gulps for air and—

You sound so pretty too. All high pitched and cracked, voice barely able to escape the stupid bout of whines and gasps his girth fucks out of you, but pretty all the same. Like you can’t handle his cock, struggling to take his utter adoration of you as he forces his cock shape against your insides, throbbing inside of your hole with seedy intent. Feels good, too fucking good, so unfair in the tight suck of your cunt, he’s got no choice but to give you his all, right? Growling down at you when you yelp at his rough tugs and pulls on your tits, prompting his hips to stutter just a little against your ass as he huffs with feigned annoyance.

“Be a good girl,” he almosts warns you, though he doesn’t intend on it. It’s just that your cunt has him so riled up, heat radiating from him to meld where his cock pounds into you, a rough tone to his voice as if communicating just how downright fucking desperate he is for you tonight. Like he always is, of course, but this time is different. It’s more feral, isn’t it? All teeth and claws and disregard for human nature. Fucked like a filthy animal, so fucking hot, right?

“Be a good girl an’ cum fr’me, yeah? Wanna— shit, wanna feel ya so bad babe—“ he punctuates his begs with greedy fucks forward, incidentally knocking you a little off balance to fall further into him. A welcome mistaken, given that it allows him further leverage to fuck you open, the feeling of your insides squirming around his fat cock is enough to have him on the edge already— which reminds him. “Gotta feel ya cum around me, kay? Jus’ once, promise, I— oh fuck, that’s it— I, I promise, jus’ once baby, c’mon—”

To be honest, he’d say just about anything to you right now if it meant you’d cream his cock, any sordid lie or exaggeration, fucking anything to feel the way your walls choke his cock off so well like that, fuck.

And he’s close too, can feel the way his thighs start to shake and his tummy tightens under the strain of your submission. So cute when you’re being so obedient for him, laying there without a care in the world, just so that he can use you to his hearts content. It’s what he deserves, he thinks, for being suck a good alpha for you, right? Leaning over you just that little bit further so as to clamp his teeth down on your neck— not too hard! He doesn’t intend on harming you from biting, but his fangs are deep enough to promote your compliance, to keep you in place long enough for one of his hands to sneak between your thighs to rub at your clit. All messy and sloppy, barely coordinated from how lightheaded and dizzy he feels thanks to your tight hole sucking him off so well, but he nonetheless urgently attempts to get you off before he busts himself.

He slurps and sucks around your neck wound, making sure to clean it all up for you before you have a chance to cry about the mess, cooing sweet dirty words down your ear and huffing moans for you to hear just how good you’re making him feel, how thankful he is to finally have a mate to spend his heat with. Flicking at your clit the way he knows you enjoy, incidentally fucking into you a little deeper given the way your cunt pulses harsher around his cock— “That’s it, m’so close too, c’mon—” he urges you, listening intently to the loud wet slap of his balls against your slit; he can only imagine the puddle of slick gathering under your creamy cunt. And suddenly his throat is dry with want to suck it up from the sheets immediately following— “Give it t’me, feel s’fuckin’ good, holy shit babe—”

It’s a good thing that you cum almost as soon as he’s finished provoking you, and the confirmation of your returned affections is enough to trigger his own orgasm. Pumping you full of his fat wolf load as deep as he can; it’s an attempt to mark his territory. To claim you as his own pretty pup, his cute little mate that’s currently creaming his cock, gushing around his girth as he offers you meagre little thrusts to make sure as much of his seed stays inside with breeding intent.

His tail wags the whole time, clearly happy with his work as his cock swells and he’s forced to wince at the displeased sounds you let out in response. He’s barely caught his breath enough to reassure you with “I know, I know babe, jus’— fuck, jus’ hold on a minute—” all breathless and moaned, still yet painting your insides white as you come down from your high and come back to your senses. “Know it hurts, God—” he sighs, blissfully unaware of just how much he must be stretching you out on his knot, because he’s too busy feeling the gratification of successfully breeding his perfect pet. “Jus’ wait, you’ll get used to it, promise.”

Keeping you locked under his weight, it doesn’t really matter whether or not you want to get used to the feeling of his knot. All swollen and locked inside of your cunt— you can’t get away from it. Forced to lay there like the breeding bitch you are to him right now until he’s fully empty, letting his seed pump copiously into your already full little hole until it inevitably dribbles out and down his balls, the feeling of which causes him to whine with frustration.

What a waste, he thinks to himself.

“Will give y’more, don’t worry…” he whispers down your ear, humming gently to the sound of your weary weeping.

[cryptic--writing]

Hiya 👋🏻

It’s not really a kinktober request, but maybe you’ll consider doing it? No pressure though))

Ajaf era James, where he was drinking a lot. He understands that that affects him and turns him into a monster. He’s afraid he’s going to hurt reader, but he can’t break up with her for her safety, he loves her too much. So he comes up with stupid plan of making her break up with him because of his behavior? So he starts to undermine her efforts, e.g. the meals she cooks “could have been better”; makes fun of her simple 9-5 job , saying that’s she lucky she can have a relaxed job cause he’s earning most of the money and covering the bills. Although she’s hurt, she is staying as she loves him and thinks it’s the alcohol talking. James, realizing his plan doesn’t work, makes the final move: after they have sex one evening, he tells her that groupies do a much better job. That’s too much for her to take so she leaves him.

Unfortunately, after break up he feels even worse. Lars is worried so he interrogates him, and drunken James confesses. So Lars finds reader and locks her in the studio with James for them to reconcile (can we have smut here)?

Few weeks later when they start recording black album, James plays her a song (which will become nothing else matters), saying that it’s his way of telling everyone how much she means to him?

I’m sorry I can’t write short asks 🥲🥲🥹🥹

You are a great writer so I really hope this will become a story 🙏🏻

hihi!

and omg its here. took me 9 days to write it lmao but yeah

i cant explain how much I loved this idea pls marry me annon

also ~~~ means POV change (yes there is James and reader pov)

this fic has legit everything so I hope y'all enjoy it bc I busted my ass on it

some parts may be confusing idk

anyways

word count: 10623

warnings: mentions of achohol/drugs, death is mentioned, toxic relationship, break up, angst, smut, fluff, I'm prob forgetting smth

OR SO I THOUGHT (1989)

It had been a rough couple months with James. I felt determined to help him with his only worsening alcoholism, though he only continued to shut me out. I could feel the guilt when he was around, but it didn't make him stop. I tried, I really did, encouraging him to talk to me, to help me help him. 

It was the same sad scene every night. James would come home, probably around midnight, and I couldn't sleep without him next to me, so I was up, all those hours, wondering as I tossed and turned as to where he might be. All I knew is I was in for a scary time when he got back, but I eventually grew tough skin to deal with this.  Understood that this wasn't safe for me, or him, and I stressed that so, so much to him, but James never understood. Well, he never told me he did. Maybe there was more going on in his heart I never knew about. But, of course, I could never discover as he would always close himself off so much.

It was another day where the cycle would repeat. I woke up at three am to the sound of James stumbling in, mumbling something under his breath before he plopped down on the bed beside me, and I knew well enough to hold my tongue, to not provoke him. I pretended I was asleep, which he believed, trying, or at least I think he was trying, to snuggly up next to me, but he had his back to me. His arms weren't around me. Maybe that's all I yearn for now, to be loved and held.

Once I could finally go back to sleep, I was awoken not much later by the sound of my blaring alarm. It was seven am, time to get ready for work. James is a heavy sleeper, he never woke up from my alarms, though I always rushed to turn them off, just in case they would wake him. Slipping out of bed with a groan, I observed his sprawled out body, his shoes still on. I'm glad he made it to the bed this night, as others he would end up on the couch, or in his car, or somewhere I had no idea of.

I pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead, like a mother caring for her ill son on a school day. I slipped off his shoes, trying to get him more comfortable. I scurried towards the closet to grab my work clothes for the day before getting changed in the bathroom and rummaging through our medicine cabinet, finding some pain killers and then getting him a cold glass of water, leaving the items on our bedside table. I paused to watch over him as he slept, his slow, steady breaths that rose and fell from his chest. I loved him too much to change this lifestyle. I loved every part of him, and if this was part of him, then so be it. I'll help him get better. He loves every part of me, no matter what, right?

Or so I thought.

I slipped on my heels, walking into our messy kitchen, the sink filled with unwashed dishes James was supposed to do. But, he isn't well, so I must do them for him. After washing the dishes, I brewed coffee, poured myself a cup and left some for him and began to make breakfast. James had been off lately, different to how he already was off, but that slowly became part of our normal, so one new change did not stick out too much, but this one did. I don't know what it is. He just felt… lifeless, cold, I guess. I decided to make one of his favorite breakfast meals, a nice, warm and fluffy stack of pancakes with eggs and bacon, cooked just the way he liked it. I spent extra time trying to make it the best I had. I knew they would probably be cold by the time he woke up, but hopefully he'd appreciate my effort. I ate some eggs before scrambling for a notepad, getting a pen to write him a sweet good morning note, explaining I was at work, when I'd be home, how much I loved him, and where the other meds were if he needed them. I wrote these notes almost daily, but this one I made longer and more love filled. I figured he would want my love.

Or so I thought.

I came home around six pm, the evening traffic being worse than usual. Instead of seeing James' car out of the driveway and the house dark, he was still home. The soft sound of the TV buzzing was easy to hear as I unlocked the door, walking in to see him on the couch, leaning against the couch arm and holding his head up with his hand. He was too engrossed in whatever he was watching to nice me walk in, so I tried to have him notice my presence.

“Im back, Jamie,” I said softly to not startle him, my voice filled with love as I moved to sit next to him, he looked over at me, like a confused puppy. “How are you feeling?” I asked, gently stroking his back, though he moved from my touch.

“Oh, hi. Yeah, I'm fine. Busy right now, yeah?” He mumbled as a response as he resumed watching TV once more, brushing me off with his simple, cold words. I knew I had to respect his space and not probe at him, so I just nodded with a sigh and got up, slipping off my shoes and setting my bags down,

“Are you hungry?” I asked, digging through the fridge to get things to make dinner. He didn't answer. “James, are you hungry? I can make dinner,” I offered again, noticing the cleared plate that I had made him for breakfast, the note missing. I assumed he threw it away, just like the others. I never saw them in the trash cans, but after everything piles up, you can just assume. I heard James sigh from the couch, “Uh, yeah, sure, whatever. Breakfast was cold, so I threw most of it away anyways,” He admitted, and I felt a small ache in my heart. I thought he liked the dish since there was none left on his plate, but clearly he proved me different. Why I even put effort in these things, I don't know. THats a lie, I do. I love him, and want him to know it, to feel it. I should’ve been doing this as part of my own insecurities, but to make sure he knows I'm there for him, always.

I thought of what to make for dinner, seeing if he had eaten anything since breakfast, only finding empty beer bottles and a half eaten bag of chips. It was probably only the alcohol making him act like this. I decided to make steak with potatoes, something he normally liked and said I made pretty well. It was easy to make, and I know it was one of his favorites I made him, but normally I would wait for a bigger step in life, like celebrating something about the band, or something in my career, but I knew he deserved it still.

I finished after 45 minutes, preparing the plate to be gorgeous, something I wish I could hear from his lips for once. But, he loved me. I know he thinks I'm gorgeous, he wouldn't have to tell me. Right?

“Jamie, the food's ready, I made steak,” I said warmly with a smile, setting a dinner table for us. I didn't get a response, just a grunt as he stood from the couch and walked his near empty bottle of beer, finishing it off and grabbing another from the fridge. I sat at the table, waiting for him to come and join me. His eyes landed on the plate, pulling out the chair to sit down. I couldn't read his emotions, he didn't look too happy, but he didn't look mad. He just looked.. plain. James grabbed his fork and began to eat, the metal scraping against the porcelain plate, waiting for his nod of approval. It never came. He didn't talk, but not in a way like he was mad. He just didn't speak. But he didn't need to, he didn't need to say the things I knew already. I took a breath and began to eat, and it might've been one of the best I had cooked in awhile. Perfect tenderness, juiciness, seasoning, and cooked perfectly, something you could get at a restaurant, now in our home. 

“What do you think, baby? I think it's pretty good, no?” I inquired, seeking the validation I craved from him. He just shrugged.

“It's fine, I guess. It could've been better.”

It shouldn't have hurt. It really shouldn't. He just didn't like the dinner I cooked. The dinner I poured my time into. The dinner I made was special. Special for him. But, what did I know? I doubt he meant it. That's why it definitely shouldn't have hurt. He was drinking. ITs just the alcohol making him act like this. He would never say something like that to me. Why did tears prick at my eyes. Why did it actually hurt?

“Oh, uhm…. I'm sorry, I'll do better next time, do you want me to make you something else..?” I choked out, fighting back my tears.

“No, don't waste your time making something mediocre, yeah?” James insisted, insulting me bitterly once again.

I took a shaky breath, another sting to my heart. Hes. Drunk. This can't be what he means, right?

Or so I thought.

“Alright, uh, do you wanna cuddle on the couch..? We can watch anything you want? Or not watch anything, just sit together.” I offered again, pleading to get love from my partner.

“I was probably gonna go to bed. You mind cleaning up?” He pushed me away again, and every word stung. I want him to see me, to notice me, just to love me. But I reminded myself again and again, he's drunk, he doesn't mean it, he doesn't mean it. I'm just being sensitive and pathetic. Maybe it's just my hormones.

I nodded, forcing a smile, “Sure, yeah, go ahead and  go to bed, I'll clean up and join you in a bit, ok?” I informed him and he just nodded and got up, walking to the bedroom, still carrying his battle with him. My eyes stung, and once he was out of sight, I felt tears streak my face, but I continued to fight them away. I quickly got up to clear James’ and my own plate, then  cleaning the kitchen, washing everything with great care to keep it tidy.

I came into the bedroom, James half asleep under the sheets. His hair was astray as he slept near the edge, his limbs tight together. The now empty beer bottle sat on the nightstand, another reminder of James’ habits. I glanced around before getting changed into my sleep clothes, a nice little night dress James had gotten me for Valentines Day earlier that year. It was nice and pink with some fluffy pieces at the bottom and lace dancing across it. It flowed nicely and hugged my body in the right places, going down to a bit above my knees. It had some other pieces, like stockings and a garter. In reality, it was more so lingerie than a bed set. But, it was one of James’ favorites for me to wear. Maybe this would make him open up more, or just show me the love I'm craving. I crawled in beside him, though I doubt he noticed the weight accompanying him, trying to cuddle closer, pressing myself against his back.

“Jamie?” I asked softly, kissing the back of his head.

“Hm.” James answered in a sleepy tone, barely aware of my presence.

“You doing ok? You've been acting differently…” I kept a quiet tone, my hands gently running down his arms and back as I pondered on what may be hurting him so much.

He took a deep and large breath, sighing, “Yeah, I'm fine… why do you ask..?” James mumbled in response.

“Nothing, you just seem off, I guess,” I rushed out. I didn't want to upset him, but he just seemed so soft and sweet, something I hadn't seen from him awhile.

“Oh, well, alright then… love you..” He mumbled out, slowly succumbing to sleep after saying the words I knew were true.

Or so I thought.

The office today was exhausting. Absurdly exhausting. And infuriating. A stuck up and snotty boss whos full of himself ordering me around to do his mundane dirty work, my co workers giving me side glances of judgment for my more rushed than normal appearance, not having as much time this morning as I had to help James with yet another hangover, getting him to the bathroom in time before he painted our bed green in vomit, making him some foods to keep him comfortable and having to buy more pain killers, my 3rd trip this month, all before heading to work. All I wanted was to come home, sleep, relax, and be held by the love of my life. 

As simple as an office job 9-5 may seem, how it is not. No one else wants to do their own work, always needing some kind of assistance, and of course, I none the wiser, agree to help them.

It was another late evening with heavy traffic, not allowing me to come home until seven, again. I had stopped at the market, grabbing food and other supplies we were running low on. And more beer. 

The door to the house was locked, something that had been happening more and more as I came home, only growing worries on James' worsening habits, the idea of drugs coming to mind, but I tried to shake it from my head, just wanting a nice time at home. 

I unlocked the door, the house quiet except for the soft strum of a guitar in James’ mini studio, which was just an extra bedroom we had turned into a spot for him to store his instruments and for his practeing. We hoped one day for it to become a nursery, a room for our future child.

I followed the music, the half open door allowing me to peek at James, hunched over one of his explorers, fiddling with the strings as he danced around the fretboard with his talented fingers. I smiled at the sweet sight, slowly entering the room.

“Whatcha working on?” I asked, announcing my arrival home. James looked up at me, at first a smile on his face, but he quickly dropped it. His actions only confused me further.

“Uhm, not much, just… a couple riffs and stuff for the new album..” He answered, still picking at the strings with something unreadable in his eyes.

I nodded, smiling at him, “It sounds good, I'm excited to hear it,” I responded before speaking again, “Work was so exhausting today, I don't know how I put up with it anymore,” I said with a laughy sigh, trying to lighten the statement.

James just shrugged. “I mean, I don't really see how a nine to five can really be that tiring,” He disputed, but his tone sounded unsure, shaky like how it did when we first met. But there was a force, an anger of some kind.

I was even more lost with his shift in attitude, “Well, what do you mean? You don't work one, you wouldn't know,” I argued back with more aggression than I meant.

“Yeah, I don't work one. Your job is light and relaxing feather work compared to the shit I do. You are out doing twelve hours a day for months on end at a studio, being out for a year just to tour and shit, you don't make anything working that job, I'm the one paying the bills with my money.” James spat, cold and bitter. His words rung in my ears, repeating each syllable like a painful stab. My brain scrambled for reasons to understand his reaction and response to my complaint of work.

James' piercing blue eyes still starred up and me, my mouth agape in shock. Why would he act like this? He loved me. He just told me he did the other week before we went to bed. I don't know what I'm doing wrong. What is wrong in his life that I don't know about, that he wont tell me about.

My eyes scanned the room, searching for anything that might explain this behavior of his. Truly, anything that would help explain such a swift and sudden change in his mood, but deep down ZI knew, I was just looking for bottles, cans, cups, glasses, anything that would contain the fizzy and bitter liquid he loved. The only thing I could find was a half empty bottle, freshly opened next to the chair he sat in. That's it, that's why he's acting like this. He's just drunk. He doesn't mean it. He doesn't mean it.

Or so I thought.

Even with my new found reasoning, his words still hurt a great amount, the pain struggling to leave. A simple insult, just telling me how I don't work as hard as him, that my job isn't as crucial as his. I took a breath, trying to control and reign in my emotions before I could meltdown in front of him for such a stupid reason. Drunken words, not filled or backed by any true thoughts. Right?

But they do say drunk words are sober thoughts.

“I- well,” I tried to speak, but I couldn't come up with the words. What would I say? I didn't want to make him any more upset than he seemed to be, but I didn't want to submit to him so easily, especially after such disrespect. But I knew better. I don't lash out, I keep him happy. We will work this out together, we have to.

“I'm just gonna go to bed,” I muttered under my breath, fighting back tears that needed to spill out, James rude comments only adding fuel to the fire that had been burning in me all day. Not a fire of anger, passion or desire, but a fire of hurt. Once I shut the bedroom door behind me silently, I broke. The bottle shattered, and my tears overflowed my face, covering my mouth as I cried, trying to calm myself down as I got ready for bed at such an early hour, even forgetting to make James something for dinner.

It was my day off, a relaxing Saturday I could use to have some me time, as James was gonna be out with the band all day as the brainstormed for the new album, which was still taking its baby steps into production, nowhere near any concept for songs yet. At Least that I knew of. 

James had been really tense this week, and I had tried everything to get him to relax and cheer up. Taking him out to his favorite restaurants after I came home, making him home cooked meals, getting him gifts and all things. Though there was one thing I hadn't tried. Sex.

I spent all day dolling myself up, wanting to be as bare and beautiful as possible for James. I shaved everywhere, leaving not a single trace of hair anywhere except for my head,, of course. I scrubbed every nook and cranny of my body, putting on James’ favorite set we bought together, doing my makeup just the way he liked it, lighting the candles he got for my birthday, and dousing myself in his favorite perfume I owned. All the lights were out, except for the lowlights of the candles in the bedroom. I laid on the mattress, waiting for James to come home, hoping this would finally get him to unwind from his stress.

I heard James’ keys jingle in the door, and I could feel myself getting more and more excited for his arrival. This would be one of the few times I would have him sober, as when they worked on material they rarely drank or did anything crazy, thankfully. His shoes thudded on the wooden floors, a sigh escaping his lips as I heard him slowly walk towards the bedroom.

“Are you home?” He called out to me before approaching the bedroom door, taking in the sight of me and the room I had spent the evening preparing for this moment.

“Hey baby,” I mused with a smirk, looking up at him with loving eyes. His eyes met mine, looking warm for the first time in awhile.

“What's all this for?” He asked,  still taking in the well decorated bedroom and my sexy form.

“Wanted to help you relax… you've been so stressed,” I replied, grabbing his hand to try and bring him closer, to get into the bed with me.

It didn't take much more conniving, and James had given in pretty quickly to my offer. He was being more loud than normal, probably because we hadn't had the chance to be intimate like this in awhile. I loved this so much. Well, I loved being close to James again. He wasn't hitting the right spots or focussing on pleasuring me much, but that's fine, he's the one who needed to relax anyways, and I have enough time on my hands if I wanted to please myself, I guess. It didn't take long for him to come, pulling out and painting himself on my abdomen and my breath labored, coming down from…. Well, not an orgasm, but being close to one. James was beat after that, and I don't blame him for that. He had been so busy recently, I was happy we just got to share a moment like this together again. 

I laid close to him under the sheets as we both recovered, James already half asleep. I had his hand in mine, kissing each knuckle of his and more, pouting all of my love into that moment. I looked up, having felt James’ eyes on me for a while. I met his blues, and there was a slight guilt in them, a gestation and regret. But, it didn't last long as he blinked it all away, taking another breath. 

“How are you feeling now? Did it make it any better?” I asked, my voice heavy with sleep as I lazily continued to press kisses to his hand.

“I mean, yeah, I guess… It wasn't like, amazing though… I've had better, normally the groupies can do a bit more than that, y’know?” James said cooly, acting as if the words he just said didn't mean anything and had no weight to them.

“What?” Was all I could muster out, the tears already filling my eyes as I tried to process all of this.

“You heard me, the groupies normally do better.” 

The words came so normally from his mouth, as if he was just telling me the date and time. But no, he was comparing me to prostitutes, previous women he has slept with. I began to cry, not just out of hurt and sadness, but this time anger. How could he say something like that to me?

And then the worst part hit.

He was sober.

Something I would've wanted more than anything else just a few days ago is now what is causing this experience to be even worse than it is with the horrible comparison and insults James had spewn at me. He meant it. Alcohol was toying with his brain, making him into the aggravated man I had grown to know quite well over the years.

“Are… are you serious? After everything? I put myself through hell to deal with this, to go to work, to do EVERYTHING for you! I have tried so hard James. And Yet you still compare me to them?! Sluts with prices on their heads?!” I cried, anger and hurt filling the fire in my eyes, and I could swear I saw Jamw\es’ cold attitude falter for just a moment. Maybe it was what I was hoping for, that it was all an act, that he truly did love me deep down, but maybe he didn't. Maybe this is the truth I had been hiding from all these months.

James didn't res;ond, just sighing with a shrug.

That's what pushed me over the edge.

“Are you fucki ng serious? You're not even gonna try and fight for this? Get out of here! We're done. Since you don't appreciate anything I do for you nowadays, I don't want you in here anymore. Pack your shit and leave.” I cursed at him as I continued to sob, processing the moments that passed, feeling as if the earth was slowing, each second hitting me hard and heavy.

I could see a slight guilt in James’ eyes, and as much I wanted to believe it was true, I couldn't give it in myself to do that anymore. I couldn't keep living this lie. He nodded, staying silent as I cried, slipping on his clothes and grabbing some things he'd need for the night.

“I loved you because you loved me, or so I thought you loved me, truly you don't give a shit!” I called out again, hearing James breath hitch at my harsh words, but he just left. No goodbye, the final words spoken to us only filled with hate and hurt, though millions went unspoken.

— —- — —> A FEW MONTHS LATER…

Not a lot has happened since I broke up with James, but a lot has changed. Maybe for the better. I miss him terribly, but a lot of weight is off of my shoulders now. I'm no longer worrying about having to make elaborate meals for him, or to do everything in my power to make him happy as [possible, watching my words at all times to make sure I wont say anything that might upset him. It was a large change. The house is still cold like how it was with him, but its a different kind of cold. There is no warmth of another body. Its quiet, no more TV static and laughter or guitar. Work had only gotten more tiring, but I had recently gotten promoted, something I had wanted for a long, long time.

I haven't spoken to James since we broke up. I know he had come by the next day, as when he left that night he only took clothes to last him the night, and when I came home from work, all of his belongings were gone, and his spare key was left on the counter, all of his music gear out of the house, leaving me a now empty room, not to house his guitars, and no longer holding the hopes and dreams of a future child.

Or so I thought all of his stuff was gone.

I came home after work, the house dark and silent, turning on the lights before going into the former music room, which had now become my office for the time being, as I needed one for the promotion, to be able to have a comfortable spot where I could do other work tasks from home. I set down my purse, sitting in my computer chair and sliding off my heels. I saw something in the corner of my eye, something that somehow had never caught my eye all these months. 

An ashtray, repurposed to hold James’ many guitar picks. It was behind a lamp that was in the corner of the room on an end table. There was more than just guitar pics, but one of his rings. Like the ones he always wore on stage, the cool reflective metal that shone brightly under the spotlight. I paused, only having gotten one heel off, so confused as to how I never noticed. I sat in this same chair, facing the same direction, taking my heels off the same each day. I quickly got the other off before walking towards the table, picking up the ashtray, having remnants of cigarette butts and ash, some of which covered the pics. There had to be at least 20 of those pics, I don't know how James could forget such a thing, along with one of his more favorite rings. He wore it when we met, but I never made the connection as to that being the reason he left it. I missed him, yes, but having these almost made it worse. Like the world was teasing me that he is gone, that I won't be able to be held by him again, because he doesnt love me anymore. How I still love him, I don't know. Part of me still wants to believe he never meant any of it, but the chances of that being true is slim now. But, I didn't have the heart to call him, to return them to him. He would have come to get them by now, right? 

I picked up the cold metal, holding it in my hand before slipping it on my ring finger. It was too large, slipping off quite easily. I tried the next, my middle finger, and it fit well enough to not fall off. It felt so wrong to wear, but it made me feel closer to him. I hated it, but I loved it. A little piece of him to be with me always. ‘God, I sound like a wife mourning her husband who died in a war.’ Was all I could think to myself, setting back down the ash tray and taking off the ring before sitting back down in my office chair, trying to shake my head of the matter so I could focus on the important task at hand, work.

I spent about two hours on the assignment before finishing it among other things, now exhausted even further. I stumbled towards the bedroom, changing into my pajama pants and a sleep shirt. Since the break up, I have refused to wear or even look at the clothes sJames had bought me. I didn't feel any desire to wear those things now that I knew he would be the one to see me in them. I never really wanted to wear clothes like that, but knowing he liked it made me like it. Now that he's gone, so is that enjoyment. I layed down on the mattress, sinking down as it swallowed me and the day whole. I had gotten used to the loneliness of sleeping alone, even after having a body next to me for the last four years. Maybe it was an easier adjustment as towards the end it was like sleeping next to no one.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The last few months are hard to describe. I can't explain it, I really can't. I've never been more lonely in my life, drowning all of my sorrows in the bitter bottles that wasted away each night and day. I've tried putting my energy elsewhere, focusing more on the band than I was earlier, trying to pour my emotions into guitar and lyrics, but nothing works. Nothing matches what I once had. What I threw away. What I ruined. Though, all my life, through all my struggles, there was one thing I learned.

Mask your emotions, hide your turmoil. It's something I had quickly gotten good at from a young age.

Or so I thought.

I went out for drinks with Lars to discuss lyrics and other parts of music for the record, as we normally had for our other productions and everything. We had another few weeks before we went into the studio, where we planned to record for many months, wanting this release to be the best we ever had. 

Before I had even gone out to the bar with Lars, I had already had a few bars at home, or what I had tried to make into my home. It was a home, yeah, but it didn't feel homey. There was no warmth or touch to it to make it seem whimsical or joyful. I know I have a problem, but what is there I can do. 

When I got there, Lars’s car was already outside, and I knew I was late by thirty minutes, having to build up the motivation to leave the house for a reason other than food, so trying to get up and socialize and talk about important stuff was not on my top choices to do.

I trudged in, my eyes darting around for the Danish, who was never that hard to find. And as I expected, I found him somewhat quickly, taking a seat next to him and ordering a drink for myself.

“Hey man, where the fock have you been? Been waiting here ages for ya,” Lars commented with his laugh, sipping on his own drink.

I just shrugged, “Sorry man, there was just…” I tried to think of a reasonable excuse, but none could come to mind. “Traffic, y’know, it gets bad around five or six, all those people getting off of work,” I explained, thinking I was an expert at this facade.

“Alright, whatever you say. Let's get to work now, yeah?” Lars tried to believe me, but it was clear he knew there was something more to what I said. 

I just nodded, “Yeah,” I answered, and Lars took out his notepad where he already had some ideas for songs. The mask was as strong as stone, no way to see in.

Or so I thought.

 Lars looked back to me, a thought popping back in his mind, “Traffic? There's normally not much in this area, I mean before you moved out of that place, shit, traffic was bad, but here? No way,” Lars questioned me, no longer believing a word I had said. 

“Well, I guess it was just different today…” I muttered, “Let's just start now, leave it be,”. Lars agreed reluctantly, and soon we were sharing ideas sas I jotted down lyrics, Lars taking turns as we debated on the new project.

Of course, as we worked, we were drinking. Me more than him, and it was getting me tipsy, and then drunk. Normally we wouldn't get drunk during lyric writing, just a bit.. Wobbly, I guess. We were just reviewing the lyrics for the third song we were jotting up and I had ordered another drink.

“Jesus man, you only focused on drinking? We got shit to do!” Lars complained to me, and I just shrugged. “Sorry, got my priorities here…” I joked, and Lars only gave a pity laugh.

“Is something up? You've been acting weird as hell for the last few months. We barely see you anymore, and when we do, you're late.” He informed me firmly, clearly not wanting to put up with my demeanor much longer.

“I'm fine, didn't I already tell you that?” I responded, and at this point I just wanted to go home. “Well, you can tell me it a million fuckin’ times and that doesnyt mean Ill believe you,” He rebuttled, and I sighed. “So, what's up with you?”

I didn't want to answer, well sober me would've deflected. But drunk me? He doesn't have much of a filter. Who does when they're drunk anyways?

“Nothings up with me, just dealing with shit…” I answered, taking another sip of my drink.

“Ok, well dealing with what?” 

“The breakup, and everything,” I answered, my eyes avoiding Lars’s own.

“Ohh, yeah, I see. What happened anyways? You never went into detail, just saying she kicked you out in the middle of the night. The fuck did you do to her?” He laughed, but the sting of the memories still remained.

“I.. well, I told her she was a shit cook, lazy, didnt work as hard me, and that groupies fuck better,” I admitted. Lars' face changed from a small smile to a look of shock.

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah”

“What would make you say something like that?! That's totally messed up!” I knew this would be shocking, especially coming from me to say something like that. But I didn't expect him to be this shocked.

“No, I did it for a reason, I'm not just some asshole! I didn't want to break up with her, and I didnt want her to break up with me, but I knew I had to get her to break up with me. I keep drinking, and it makes me into… I don't know, I'm a different person and I don't want to hurt her. The only option was to force her to break up with me.” I tried to explain, but Lars was quick to respond.

“Only option?! Have you heard of rehab? Getting help? Did she just let you waste away?”

“I didn't want to go to rehab either, and no, she did try to help, but I don't want help…” It was getting embarrassing at this point, showing how weak I had become.

“James, not everything is about what you want! There's things you need to do, but you don't want to. Those are just as important.” He paused, hoping my worlds would process through me as he thought of an idea. “How about this, clean up your act a bit and I'll get her back over here and you can go back to paradise, alright?” Lars offered and I perked up a bit.

“How the hell do you expect her to come back to me after all of that?”

“I never said she'd come back to you, I said I can get her over here, make you guys talk or something.” He corrected me, and I just rolled my eyes.

“Well how are you gonna get her to come here? She probably hates me at this point,” 

“I have my ways, we were closer friends than you probably remember,” Lars’ words didn't help. He could never explain his plan, and that's what always ticked me off about him.

“Fine, whatever, work your midget magic or something,” I muttered under my breath.

“What did you just say to me?” 

“Nothing, nothing, just do whatever it is, alright?” 

“Fine.”

— — — — > A WEEK LATER…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Time moves slow these days. But not in a bad way, it was nice that life was hitting the breaks a bit instead of the pedal. Though, that joy wouldn't last long.

I sat in my office chair at work, working on some papers my boss had handed me a few minutes ago. He was giving me stack after stack after stack of papers today, all coming with my promotion I got a bit back. More money means more work, and more work means more money, so I guess it isn't all too bad in the long run. I glanced up from my paper, eyeing the now double repurposed ashtray, one being made for the intents of cigarette butts, then guitar pics, and now it held my keys and some other trinkets, including one singular guitar pic of James, one of his favorites. 

I was startled out of my thoughts by hearing the office phone ring, quickly reaching to grab it, assuming it was a customer call.

“Hi, this is Capital Advisors, how can I help you?” I offered in a cheery tone, but the voice I heard response was not what I had expected.

“Hey man, look, it's Lars, something happened to James, you mind heading down to the studio?”

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Sure, Lars and I were close, but we haven't talked much since James and I’s break up. My words caught in my throat, processing the second half. “Something happened to James? What happened? Is he ok?” Even though he proved himself worthy of a break up, I still couldn't shake my love and worry for him.

“Uhhhh, yeah, no, sure he's fine, but you just needa come to the studio?” Lars rambled, not sure how to keep up his lie.

“Ok, yeah, of course, when do I need to be there?” My mind was racing, Lars wasn't being direct with what happened, so my mind could only think of the worst. He always poland things off to make them not seem as bad as they were. What if James fell and hurt himself? Overdosed on something? Only darker thoughts hit my mind.

“Like, now, this can't wait,” Lars demanded, and I had no choice but to agree.

“Yeah, I will be there as soon as I can, ok? Tell him I’ll be there soon, I don't want him to worry,” I gave in and then Lars thanked me and hung up. 

Now I don't know what to do. My boss wasn't the type of person to just let me leave whenever I want, and I had already promised to Lars I would be there immediately. Though, my worries got the best of me and I quickly began to gather my stuff together. I grabbed my keys and my purse, quickly heading to my boss's office. 

I always hated going in here, it was freezing since the AC was always blasted, and it reeked of musty air freshener. I gently knocked on the door before I heard his baritone voice respond, telling me to come in. I entered, seeing him sitting there, filing papers. 

“Can I help you?” He said in a monotone voice, opening and shutting cabinets.

“Yes, I need to leave, like right now. ITs an emergency, family matter,” I tried to briefly explain, but it didn't take long for him to come up with a new response.

“Emergency? Of what? Is someone dying?” His eyes looked up from his papers, meeting mine as he waited for an answer.

“I… Well, I don't know,” I muttered, and it was true, I really didn't. With Lars’ vagueness, I tru;y didn't have a reason to not assume James was already on his deathbed.

“How can you not know?” He questioned me as if I was stupid, then noticing my pale and shaky look of true worry, “Fine, yes, you can go, but you're leaving three hours early. I want you working those hours back tomorrow. Understood?” He finally made an offer, and I quickly accepted without hesitation.

“Yes, thank you, and I'm sorry,” I responded with a smile and a nod, quickly leaving the office and getting to my car as fast as possible. Lars never specified where exactly the studio was, but I had been there a few times with James to hear them practice and record. I did my best to remember the way there, speeding in some places and having to make a couple U turns to figure out the exact spot. The whole time my head was buzzing, I could not think of one normal reason as to why James would want me there. He clearly didn’t like me much towards the end, even though I still like to think he never meant it and that it was only the alcohol talking, but I was probably wrong. Why did I still care so much after being so wrongfully disrespected? Part of me still loved him. Still wanted to wake up next to him every morning, hear the faint strumming of a guitar whenever I came home from work. Now those days were gone, and never looked like they would return. I still worried for the worst for James, endless horrid possibilities arising in my brain, all trying to piece the puzzle together.

When I finally pulled up, I saw two other cars out in front, not seeing James’ car, assuming Lars gave him a ride and KIrk giving Jason one. No cop cars or ambulances or fire trucks, so he isn't dying, or maybe they already left. Maybe I was too late? 

I quickly got out of the car, almost running to the studio door, knocking until Lars came and opened it for me.

“Hey! There you are, took ya long eno-” Lars was quickly cut off by my own anxieties.

“Where is he? Is he ok? Was I not fast enough?” I quickly voiced out, my eyes darting around the inside and searching for him.

“Yeah, relax. He's fine. He's inside-”

“If he's fine then why did you make me come here from work?! I thought he was dying or something crazy,” I cut him off, questioning his efforts.

“No, none of that, you worry too much. He just wants to talk with you,” Lars answered, and my previous worries and a new suspicion grew in me.

“Just want to talk? Last time I talked with him he was critiquing me! He hates me! He doesn't want anything to do with me!” I voiced the feelings that had been clawing at me for months, never having anyone to tell them to.

“Or so you think. Look, just talk to him, that's all this is, ok?” Lars grew tired of my attitude and clearly I would have to give in soon.

“I want to, I want to talk to him, but I doubt he wants to talk to me,” I responded, trying to further explain my hesitations.

“I just told you that he wants to talk to you! Go in there, please!” Lars pleaded with me, and I sighed, finally agreeing.

“Ok, ok, I will,” I answered, beginning to head into the studio.

“Thank you! He's just down the hall, in that room with the sound equipment and everything,” Lars informed me, and I followed him, seeing James hunched over a table, scribbling down on a piece of paper. My heart was racing now. I hadn't seen him since that night. I didn't know what I would say to him, I was worried what he would say to me.

Then he looked up at me.

His cold, piercing blue eyes, a newfound softness in them as our eyes met. I avoided his eyes, but felt his lingering on me. Lars guided me in, shutting the door behind himself, leaving us alone. I was unsure of what to say, my eyes lingering on the floor, hearing James set down his pen.

“Uh… hi…” He started, probably just as unsure as I was.

“Hi,” I responded back shyly, avoiding his gaze, though I could still feel his own on me. The sound of footsteps approached me, instantly recognizing them as James’, and then I heard a click. Lars had locked us in here, now forced to talk.

“I.. I'm sorry, I really am,” He mumbled, and I looked up at him, seeing a true guilt in his eyes, “I wish I didn't do it, that I didn't say those things, that I didn't make you hurt so much like that… I should’ve been much more, well, mature about it. I feel like shit for everything,” James explained to me, but this only caused me to have more and more questions.  

“What do you mean?” I asked, my voice still a hushed whisper as a wave of various emotions crashed down on me. “I had reasons for what I did, I just wish I went about it differently. I wish I had listened to you when you had offered me help. I didn't want to hurt you with my habits, and I couldn't break up with you, I didn't want to be the one to do that, so… so I tried to make you break up with me, and you did. Everything I said, it was a lie. I never meant it. You're a great cook, you work hard, you're just… you're amazing, you're too good for me.” James confessed, and I could feel a bit of the cold melt away, though still a hurt in my heart.

“Then why make me come and tell me all of this? This would only pour salt in that wound, no?” I was still confused at why he would make such an effort, but I still found it touching.

“Because I still love you. I want things back the way they were. I swear on everything, I've changed. I miss you more than anything-” I cut him off with a sweet kiss to his lips, and he melted into me, wrapping his arms around me in a comforting and loving embrace.

After James pulled away, he looked me in my eyes, “How could you forgive me for saying all of that to you?” He began, “Id think you would just… hate me, I was a total jerk,”

“Or so you'd think. I still love you and miss you more than you could imagine,” I responded with a  small smile, and James matched mine, kissing me again. “Can… can I show you how much I've missed you?” James asked in a mumbled tone, clearly a bit embarrassed. My cheeks heated up at his offer and I giggled, nodding as our lips met a third time, a new hunger and desire now displayed. Slowly, he walked me to the table until I had backed up into it, his hands trailing up my sides until we broke away, his lips now going down my neck, eliciting a needy whine from the back of my throat, my hands pulling him closer, snaking under his shirt to trace his skin. 

James’s fingers slipped under my shirt, working to get it off of my head, leaving my neck for only a second to remove the fabric before attaching himself to my sensitive flesh, feeling him suck and nibble, definitely leaving bruises. He gave a more harsh bite, causing me to whimper, then soothing it over with his tongue before pulling away. Soon his gaze focused on my breasts, still confined with my bra. His eyes met mine again, “Can I take it off?” He asked ,already reaching around my back to work on the clasp, which had become an easy task for him. I nodded, and soon the garment was now on the floor with my shirt. The cold air caused my nipples to erect immediately, and James’ eyes were locked on them, cupping the in his hands as he squeezed them and pinched at my nipples, making me make high needy sounds, causing him to smirk, kissing around the soft flesh, teasing me with every movement he made. 

I began to claw at his shirt, trying to take it off of him, so he reluctantly pulled away from my chest, removing his own shirt, giving me a view I had missed more than I care to admit. My eyes dragged slowly over the newly exposed skin, and his lips crashed down on mine again, pushing me back so far I was now laying down on the table, the cold wood causing goosebumps to rise on my skin. I tugged at James’ pants, feeling myself grow wetter at the moment. He slipped down his pants, leaving him in only his boxers as you pulled down my skirt, leaving me in only my panties. I could see the bulge in his final layer grow at the new sight, and then he got on his knees, gripping the sides of my aunties and taking them off in a swift motion, leaving my glistening folds exposed to his hungry view.. His warm lips teased my thighs, kissing around the area I needed him most, making me writhe with desire. Eventually, his tongue found my center, giving it soft licks at first, parting my folds with his tongue. A moan escaped my throat, and James took it as his sign to keep going, burying his face between my thighs. He licked and sucked at my hole, probing at it with his tongue as his nose nudged my sensitive clit. My hand snaked into his long blonde locks, gripping his scalp tightly as I pulled him closer. I could hear him groan into my flesh, causing a vibration to coarse through me, making me moan again as I came closer to my first high. Eventually James moved further up, giving more attention to my aching clit, giving it gentle licks first to tease me before sucking it into his mouth, biting it softly, making me squeal from his ministrations.

“Jamei, fuck, Im gonna cum,” I whined out, tugging on hair harder, causing him to let out another low groan as he continued to feast on me. “Cum for me pretty girl,” He mumbled into my flesh, and like that my orgasm washed over me, a breathy moan falling my lips, feeling my core pulsate , releasing my grip on James’ head, allowing him to pull back.

James chin was drenched in my essence and his spit, some caught in his facial hair, wiping it off on the back of his hand. I dont think Ive seen anything hotter. His eyes landed on mine, and I noticed a lustful darkness in them, kissing me again as our tongues tangled in a battle for dominance, James winning in the end, and soon his boxers were on the ground, both of us bare in front of each other again.

JAmes broke the kiss, trailing his lips down my neck, leaving new hickeys and bruises in his wake as they now peppered my neck. I felt his tip at my entrance and I squirmed, his lips leaving my bruised flesh. “You ready, baby?” He asked, taking my hand in his, and I nodded, feeling him slowly push into me, the stretching sensation stinging my insides, a delicious stretch my body had missed as I tried to accommodate his size. Once he was to the hilt, I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding, squeezing his hand tightly.

I gave him a look of a need, and he gook note, slowly beginning to pump his hips, untwining our fingers as he positioned himself with better support, placing his arms on either side of my head. With every thrust a moan escaped my throat, tears pricking at my eyes from the pleasure. “Fuck, you’re so tight… haven't had anything since me, hmmm?” James whispered to me, and I could only whine in response, his calloused fingers sneaking down to my clit, brushing the bud lightly with the pad of thumb, and I began to squirm around his cock, feeling his thrusts increase with speed, more grunts falling from James.

The table I laid on creaked beneath from our frevorus movements of need, completely forgetting we were still in the studio. The band was still in that studio. This room wasn't for recording, very little sound blockers. Anyone in this building could hear us. The thought didn't pass my mind once throughout the whole experience, only focused and becoming closer with James once again, not just in body, but in our connection reforming with every minstration from either of us.

James' thrusts grew relentless, only increasing the pleasure for both of us as he chased his own high, helping me with mine, continuing to toy with and stroke my clit, moans and whines leaving me with any movement he made. “So pretty like this, baby, taking me so well,” He groaned, his small grunts and moans filling my ears like sweet music. I began to buck my hips, knowing that my orgasm was approaching, James not far behind, his vocal expression of pleasure growing in number and volume, mixing with my own mewls and moans, that and the sound of skin slapping skin filling the room, my nails clawing his back.

My eyes began to roll back, James’ name falling from my lips a thousand times as my legs wrapped around his waist, trying to pull him deeper to finally bring me to edge. James noticed and thrusted harder, hitting that special spot with every movement, making me have to cover my mouth with my hand, the unholy noises escaping me growing too loud for us to stay secret. James disapproved, “Mmmm, don't do that baby, let me hear you cum around my cock,” He cooed, and that was all the encouragement I needed to come over the edge, a high pitched moan coming from me, feeling my walls clamp down on James’ length, pulsating as waves of pleasure cascaded over me. James helped me ride through it, still rubbing my sensitive nub, his thrusts losing rhythm as he approached his own high.

“Fuck, sweetie, gonna cum inside you…” He grunted, his pace increasing as his movement became erratic with pleasure. “Take it, take it like a good girl, baby,” He moaned, his load shooting deep inside of me and painting my walls white with his seed. His hips sputtered, bucking into me as he collapsed on top of me, our sweaty foreheads clinging together as we both recovered from the intense orgasms, trying to catch our breath. James pressed soft, lazy kisses around my face, reminding me how much he loved me and how he'd never hurt me again if given the chance.

After a moment, we both had come down from our highs, James’ softening member sliding out of me with a pop. He looked down at the mess between my thighs, all evidence of our pleasure with each other. “Youre fuckin’ perfect,” He muttered, his eyes dragging over me.

“Are the groupies still better?” I teased him, remembering our bickering that was one real, or so I thought it was real fighting.

“Oh, hell no, they don't stand a chance to this,” He responded with a smile, and I smiled back.

We cleaned up, slipping back on our clothes so we were somewhat presentable. Only now did the realization that we were never once alone in this studio and the rest of the band was outside had hit me. A wave of embarrassment flowed over me, my cheeks flushing even more than they were before given the previous activities. Both James and I looked quite disheveled, our hair a mess and clothes wrinkled. I tried to shake off whatever nervousness I had in me as James put his arm around me. We went to reach for the door handle, only to find out it was still locked. Now it would be even more awkward. James knocked on the door from the inside, calling out to Lars, or anyone else in the studio.

“Guys? Lars? Can someone unlock the door?” And it wasn't long before footsteps approached, hearing a key click as the door swung open, Lars, more curious than ever eyed both my own and James’ appearance, noticing the hickeys, the slight wobble I gave, and any other imperfections that we might have displayed.

“I take it you two worked things out?”

— — — — > A FEW WEEKS LATER…

It had taken some time, a lot of talking, and more than just one hook up for James and I to work out any other issues that we had with each other. We met up a lot in the recent weeks after that, discussing different ways on how to help James with his drinking, and just trying to regain eachothers trust.

Soon enough though, James had moved back in with me. I kept my office space, but now the room was split in two halves. I worked in one half, while James did his guitar work in the other half. It was a fairly large room, so we both had our own spaces and rarely bothered each other. If I had a work call or anything that required silence, James would just migrate to the living room.

It was the same old schedule we had all those months ago, and I was now returning from work. It was Friday, now I would have plenty of time to relax and be with James. I pulled into the driveway, parking and getting out of my car as I walked up to the porch, the click of my heels following my steps on the cement. The lights were on, the door unlocked. I could hear a faint strumming coming from inside, meaning James was hard at work on new material for the album. It was my favorite thing to listen to while doing work assignments at home.

I walked in with a huff, setting down my purse and keys on the counter before heading to the shared office space. James wasn't playing much, just sounded like scales and chords for his warm ups. “How was work, baby?” James greeted me, still focused on his guitar. “It was a bit tiring, but it was good. I think my boss is starting to like me,” I answered, settling into my chair. He nodded in response, going back to fiddling with the strings.

It wasn't until a little later a soft, sweet and melodic tune had hit my ears. Much different than what Metallica normally plates. James hummed along to it, almost like he had lyrics already written out. But knowing him, he probably did.

“What are you playing? It sounds really nice,” I started, listening to a few more notes before continuing, “It's not what you guys normally play,” I commented, and James let out a deep hum in response. “Just something new I'm working on,” He replied, and I nodded, getting back to work.

Only this time, I couldn't focus. Normally James’s music helped me to focus, becoming a comforting background noise. This time though, I couldn't get my mind off of that melody. He kept going, and each second I kept getting more and more captivated by it. 

“That songs really pretty, I like it,” I said, scribbling down whatever notes I couldnt on a piece of paper. “Thanks, it's actually, uhm..” He trailed off, and I knew something was up. I spun around in my chair, going to face him. “It's what?” I asked, confused by his shy demeanor. 

“It's called ‘Nothing Else Matters’,” He stated, finally stopping picking at the strings. “Nothing Else Matters?” I repeated, connecting whatever the lyrics might be in my head to the melody. Normally their slower, melodic songs were dark and heavy topics, so I expected the same with this one.

“Yeah,” James answered, “I wrote the lyrics about you, actually,” He muttered softly, though I still picked it up. “About me?” I questioned, slightly shocked. “Yeah… I've thought a lot about, well, everything recently. Ever since that point a few months back I've reflected and everything… Rumors spread, and I just want everyone out there to get the right idea,” He paused, searching for the right words, “I want people out there to know that you're all I care about, you mean more than the world to me, and I want everyone to know that,” He stated, his tone true and emotional. I had never heard him say sweeter words to me, and I knew that he was speaking nothing other than the truth, I could see it in his eyes, there's a way to read people, and James wasn't easy to read, but you soon could learn the lingo.

“That means a lot to me, Jamie,” I answered, smiling at him. I got up from my chair to sit next to him on the couch, leaning against him. “Thank you,” I said, kissing him on the cheek. “You don't need to thank me, sweetheart,” James responded, wrapping his arm around me.

And now, I knew my whole world was whole again. What was once hatred, or so I thought was hatred, was once again love, everything as it should be.

[sin-on-purpose]

Rules: Daily Routine

What you do during baths / showers: You have to lock the door when you take a bath / shower and only once every 2 weeks can you leave the door open where she can only see you naked and you are only limited to making out and nothing more (it is up to your gf to notice the difference and take advantage of the door being ajar but you CANNOT invite her in the bathroom with you). Refer to #8 for when you are solo bathing.

Morning routine: Every MORNING you have to think of me and edge yourself / ride your fingers (and tell me about it) until you're about to cum but you CANNOT fully orgasm so your mind stays obsessed with Wanting. While this is happening, you have to moan my name over and over again until it becomes as natural as breathing. Every WEEKDAY (in the morning), you must stuff your underwear in your cunt after you finish and leave it inside of you while you drive to work OR for a minimum of 4 hours while starting your work-from-home shift. You are permitted to put them back on once you arrive at work OR after 4 hours have passed while working from home.

Night routine: Every NIGHT (If you find yourself alone) I want you to repeat everything from #4 BUT AFTERWARD you are NOT allowed to wash yourself / your hands. On Monday, Wednesday, Friday you have to let your cum dry on yourself and on Tuesday, Thursday, Saturday and Sunday you have to suck / lick your fingers dry. EVERY WEEKEND (at night) you must stuff your underwear in your cunt after you finish and leave it inside of you for AN HOUR.

What happens if you make a mess: Any time you make a mess ANYWHERE, you have to attempt to lick it clean just for me. Whatever can't be licked, you have to put the wet object in your mouth and suck on it or wipe it with your fingers and suck on them not leaving any of it to waste.

Driving home: Whenever you drive home from any location (work, errands, gym, etc.) you have to do so without wearing a bra. Once you get home, you have to leave your bra in the car to be worn again the next time you go out of the house.

Using the bathroom: Whenever you feel the need to use the bathroom IN PUBLIC (doesn't count bathrooms at a residence), you have find a way to drink a cup of water beforehand and after closing the door in the stall, you are to trace the outline of both of your nipples and pull at them until they are both erect enough for you to tug at them and then playfully insert an index finger inside of you once and wiggle it around for at least a full minute straight before you take a piss while thinking of me. You must drip dry if you pee but wipe regular if it involves anything else. You can still wash your hands after you're done in an attempt to compose yourself before going back outside. Whenever you use the bathroom IN PRIVATE (your house or anyone else's house), you are to prolong using the bathroom as long as feasibly possible (no need to drink a cup of water beforehand) and then repeat the routine of tracing the outline of both of your nipples, pulling at them until they are both erect enough for you to tug at them and then playfully insert an index finger inside of you once and wiggle it around for at least a full minute straight before you take a piss while thinking of me. You can use the bathroom like normal afterward and that includes wiping and washing your hands afterward. Both IN PUBLIC and IN PRIVATE, you must take your index and middle fingers and taste the tips of them to reward yourself for following instructions

When to orgasm: You can only fully let yourself go if your gf is pleasing you and only IF you are thinking of ONLY me once every 4 weeks (aka once month). If you're sleeping with your gf more frequently than that, she is only allowed to edge you (while you're thinking ONLY of me) until you're almost there but you have to stop it before you get to orgasm. If you are by yourself, you can only fully release all your tension all over yourself 4 weeks AFTER you allow your gf to make you cum. After you make yourself cum, your gf cannot do anything except kiss you and touch you over clothes for the next week. If she DOES get access to you under your clothes (counting under your bra and/or your bottoms) during this time, YOU cannot have sex with your gf for the next 4 weeks after that event.

Daily moaning (for me): Whenever you are pleasing yourself solo from #1-3, you are to moan my name always. For #1 when you are in the shower / bath, since your gf will not be with you for most of the time when you bathe, on occasions when you are alone with the door locked, you have to tease and please your cunt and repeatedly say my name almost loud enough for your gf to hear outside the door but not loud enough for her to distinguish what name you're saying.

Sleeping: If you are sleeping by yourself in bed on weekdays, you have to be naked after following the rules from #3 for your nightly routine. However, if you sleep by yourself in bed over the weekend, you have to leave your underwear on and remain topless so after you follow the rules from #3 you have to use your wet undies to stuff inside of you for the allotted 1 HOUR. Afterward, you can sleep naked. Anytime you sleep around anyone else, you are to be wear undies and a top (no bra)

Making coffee in the morning: If you are casually waiting for it to brew you (and you're by yourself), you have to press yourself up against a table or wall to let it hit your clit and turn yourself on. This is while wearing undies and no top.

Texts, videochat, phone calls (to non-gf): Every initial correspondence initiated by anyone who isn't your gf are to be followed up with you touching yourself over clothes for at least 10 minutes regardless of who's around whether it's DURING your text / videochat / phone call or immediately right after. Just enough to tease and wake up your cunt.

[pepprs]

what is my family going to do about the dishes when i move out. like this is insane.

[mariatesstruther]

okay but a version of events in which tommy takes ellie to the fireflies, but NEITHER of them come back. and maria joel have to work together to get them back

[saeshiraw]

tired girl hours i’m just ranting bcos i don’t have enough time to cry

[curioscurio]

Yooooo you worked at Michaels too?

(Ex-Framing department employee here)

YEA LETS GO EX-FRAMING DEPARTMENT they never even got around to teaching me production it was all wrapping and taking orders :/ Idk how it is at other shops but we only had 3 people working the whole frame shop. One person did ALL the frame assembly and us other two handled everything else. Was absolutely not worth $11/hr. man fuck retail. FUCK Design Hub too, if I may

[lumienn]

Me when I did 10 things to make my day better but came across 1 (one) thing that ruined it

[butts-bouncing-on-the-beltway]

I don't have a lot of energy these days [because of The Horrors] so I'm looking at my day and my priorities and trying to plan how I'm going to spend what energy I have, because I do need to be able to rest and relax but there are also things that need doing and that is a careful balance for me.

I managed to [mostly] clean the kitchen last night so I've kicked it out of the priority list until next weekend. Unfortunately the living room, bathroom, bedroom, and my office all need cleaning too. I think of the priorities, my office and the bedroom are the most important to me, so I'll probably push the living room and bathroom until at least Friday.

There's also the laundry. I don't have any clean clothes and as we're moving into winter I need to be more rigid about getting that done because days where the clothes can be dried on the line will be more limited. So I definitely need to wash an outfit or two and hang them up in the next hour.

That's already a really busy day, so I'll probably cut it there. But it's definitely going to still leave me a lot of work this week. Half my cleaning, at least one more round of laundry, settling dog food for the next couple of weeks, planting the fall/winter greens, doing some set up work on my computer, work on some writing projects, cleaning out the fridge, and patching some worn clothes. My work week isn't insane atm, but it is definitely limiting. Right now I have 6+4+0+4+2+5+5= 25 non work/non-survival needs (sleep, food, shower, etc) hours available each week. I need to figure out a regukar distribution of these that means everything is getting done and I still have an hour a day to myself as often as possible. I think it's probably not realistic to give myself more than an hour a day for free time/fun, which is a bit unfortunate because I've found in the past that my floor tends to be getting 2-3hrs of free time most days because of how I deal with transition and decision-making.

25-7 [1hr per day] is 18 hrs, so I just need to decide where and how to distribute those in order to keep pace with things.

Lets say the garden needs 3hrs per week, the laundry needs 4 hours (specifically 2 sets of 2 morning/early afternoon hours), the cleaning needs an hour a day to get through a maintenance clean of the house, and 3 hours once a week to work down any deep cleaning that's built up. Which is....already three more hours than I actually have each week. So I guess I'll make a plan to work in the garden for 20-40min of 4 of my free hours each week.

It really doesn't leave me any wiggle room. Only about 4 hours a week that isn't explicitly allotted to something that needs doing, which means there will probably me a lot of weeks where I only get an hour or so at best across the whole thing for free time. I guess I've had a hard time accepting that at this point, having actual time for myself or a time-intensive project is only available if I've taken a day off work. I love my job, but it's ... not comfortable to realize that it's the only love in my life I actually have time for anymore.

I think that's probably why I end up here so much. It's this mindless little way of zoning out into my own head, dissociating away from the exhaustion, for a few minutes at a time. I keep thinking I want to use this space differently, make it more if the things I enjoy. But I think what I really want is just to actually have the time and energy to do things I love that take work. I keep crying a few times every day and I couldn't figure out why, but like

I dunno

Why **wouldn't** I cry a little every day? It's the closest I'm getting to actual emotional release or relaxation in my life. We'd probably all cry. Heck. A lot of us probably DO, capitalism being what it is.

I guess I'm starting to wonder why I'm doing what I'm doing. What is there left for me to sacrifice to this life? What is actually serving me about not just letting myself go up like a fireball and take my surroundings with me? What in the ever loving fuck am I fighting this hard for?

All I ever want, all I want now, is to be able to live. To really, actually live. How does wanting to live bring you this close to killing yourself, whether on accident or on purpose? What am I actually doing that is LIVING and what am I doing that is FACILITATION of living? It can't all be facilitation, or I'm not actually facilitating fuck all.

I'm 30 goddamn years old and I need to figure out what it looks like to actually love my life. I fundamentally refuse to zombify myself like this for everyone else around me forever.

[steakout-05]

hello i think schools giving students more work during the holidays and having assessments due during the holidays should either be illegal or at least regulated in some way. like i don't think that's ok. that is the student's downtime to take a break from working. that is THEIR free time to relax that schools are taking up with more and more work to do after the term is finished and done. students are already overworked and burnt out as is, and their weekends are already taken up by either more work, jobs or extracurricular stuff. school can be incredibly strenuous on the workload they churn out when the students are actually going to school. a stack of homework can take hours per night, and simple assignments can take weeks to finish. people can't just keep doing that all the time, they need a stress-free break with no obligations to rest their minds. that is the reason the holidays are there. they're not an excuse for schools to cram in more and more work because "they'll have more time", students need a break otherwise their brains are literally going to stop working properly. let them take time off ffs.

(the same goes for teachers. teachers shouldn't be made to constantly work during the holidays, they deserve a break too. everyone deserves a break.)