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yunarim · 1 year ago

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hellou I would like to ask (for reasons that the movie will be released soon~) for the dorm leaders reacting to their mc explaining to them with everything and power-point everything about barbie, they even watch her movies (they need to have barbie culture °^°)9 ), songs (mc starts to sing the songs of the Princess and the Pauper bc it's inevitable not to do it xd), toys, etc, and in the end mc gets sentimental because barbie was part of her childhood :') so that all Thank you very much <3 and have a good day *hug*

﹢ ﹒🩰 WRITTEN IN YOUR HEART and you're always free to believe ♡

♡ SYNOPSIS : reader introducing barbie culture to the dorm leaders !

♡ TAGS : implied female reader (but no pronouns used actually), fluff, implied reader has all the movies downloaded on the phone and got transmigrated with it, watch me being emo about barbie movies, games & songs because totally not me was obsessed with them in my childhood—

♡ NOTES : OMG ANON LET ME GIVE YOU A HUG TOO you're just in time bc i replayed barbie in the 12 dancing princesses literally a week ago sdhkjh THIS REQUEST IS SO SWEET i felt it with all my both mind and soul

— ❀ RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS

How could you not realize it before!! When you asked Riddle if there is something you can help with since you’ve noticed he’s been quite preoccupied with too many things to handle, he said you may assist flamingo caretakers but there’s one rule that you absolutely mustn’t violate. According to rule 249, ‘Flamingo caretakers are to don pink attire’ which happens to be extremely… pinkish.

Riddle notices you following the rule by heart, but you seem to hum a song unknown to him. He asks why would even sing something like ‘We spin for you, Janessa, and chasse for you, Kathleen, we pirouette for Lacey, and we bow before the queens’ and among those lines… Riddle can understand the ‘bow before the queens’ line, but who are those people in the first place? You ask him if barbie culture even exists in their world and when you find out there’s none—

Riddle takes your introduction to barbie lessons just as diligently as professors' magic lessons. He wonders if you perform this excellently on tests as well since the way you turned all the information into neatly assigned diagrams and schemes is astonishing. You came up with the idea of homework because he’s familiar with such, so the task you assigned him to finish by the end of the week was to remember the Birthday Song you were singing in the garden.

He knows that all the barbie aesthetic is important to you by the way your eyes glow with joy whenever he brings you something barbie related. You got all Heartslabyul jamming to barbie songs, which is not against the rules. In fact, when Riddle spotted that even Trey started singing ‘If I want some eggs I ring the bell, and the maid comes running in’, he decided there is one more rule that needs to be added to the list, which is ‘One must sing ‘I am a girl like you’ when cooking’.

One day during an unbirthday party Riddle gifted you a handmade barbie doll according to your descriptions. He did make it himself but with a little touch of magic so it came out quite nice. He thought you would scream and maybe jump out of your seat but you just drew the doll right to your heart and teared up a little, causing Riddle to get confused for a moment. But once you explained that it’s very touching and means a lot to you, he smiled reassuringly. You’re an honorable ambassador of barbie culture in Heartslabyul now.

— ❀ LEONA KINGSCHOLAR

Even if Leona doesn’t say it, he’s grown quite fond of you enough to shamelessly tell you that you need to do the thing that always puts him to sleep, which is singing a lullaby. Usually you would just hum something incoherently and watch Leona snore on your lap but this time you decided to fall into the embrace of your childhood and sing ‘No one to say when to eat or read or leave or stay, that would be the day’. Leona opened one eye and asked if you were actually trying to put him into sleep or emphasize on his upbringing for some reason.

Next day you tell him if he falls asleep while you two watch ‘Barbie as The Princess and the Pauper’, you will never ever sing him to sleep again. He just yawns you away but agrees anyway since it’s the first time he sees you so agitated. Somehow ends up providing you with plot analysis as the movie goes on. This is the moment you know you got him.

Leona thinks he doesn’t care about your childish movies and things and then spends twenty minutes explaining to Ruggie why ‘Barbie in the Nutcracker’ is obviously superior. Leona: started as a joke and ended up genuinely investing into barbie culture. Ruggie: started as a way to fool around and ended up kinning Erika (Leona tells him to come back down to earth since Ruggie’s no queen like Erika was).

One day gifted you Princess Anneliese doll with ‘You’re just like me’ line — whatever he meant by that — and your reaction turned out to be so amusing so he started casually gifting you other barbie dolls just to (enjoy your beautiful smile but he won’t tell you this) entertain himself. Now whoever visits Ramshackle often asks how did you get an enormously large collection of pretty dolls but your dorm remains so ruin-like. Needless to say that you would be considered rich in your world for having such a huge collection in your property.

Now asks you to watch barbie movies together instead of singing him to sleep but ends up never falling asleep before he watches till the end. You throw quick glances to check if he’s asleep and he pretends he is, though his tail can not lie, revealing his honest reaction to plot twists. Cheka visited once, and now thanks to you everyone in Afterglow Savannah is cultured.

— ❀ AZUL ASHENGROTTO

All popular cafes in the city were holding some events with advertising new products as a main purpose. Azul couldn’t afford falling behind so he needed to come up with original and creative ideas as soon as possible. Since you were working part-time at Mostro Lounge, you suggested holding barbie inspired events. When you found out no one in Twisted Wonderland knew barbie, you were so shocked that you asked (or rather demanded) Azul to entrust all the preparations to you.

At first no one really understood what’s the point of decorating Mostro Lounge with pink glittering and shining stuff but when you suddenly came up on the stage and started singing simple yet touching songs, everyone started getting the main idea. But the pièce de résistance became none other than Bibble plushies. You sewed the very first version, and Azul grew to love the new Mostro Lounge’s mascot so much he now has an enormously huge Bibble plush toy in his dorm room. You always say it needs to be resewed but he already got a soft spot for it.

Azul is absolutely in love with all the outfits you come up with for the performances, but most importantly he can’t throw out of his mind the songs you performed. Ended up recreating instrumental music from Mermaidia just according to your vague descriptions of how it should sound, and it turned out perfect. You once accustomed his outfit to resemble Nori’s one and well— It’s totally not you who wants to see his merform with Nori’s accessories and makeup, surely not, nuh-uh.

Gifts you barbie mermaid doll, its outfit pieces made from pearls from Coral Sea. You don’t even know if you can accept such a precious gift, considering you didn’t expect Azul to think about how important it was for you. So you came up with the idea that he also should perform with you on stage, accompanying you by playing piano.

Singing songs from ‘Barbie as The Princess and the Pauper’ became Octavinelle tradition thanks to you. But also please don’t sabotage Azul with a recording of him crying his eyes out while listening to you singing ‘Written in your heart’ alright? Also would do anything to see you dressed up as Elina but you most certainly didn’t hear Floyd and Jade telling you this info. You most certainly didn’t see the Mermaidia art piece appearing in the Atlantica Memorial Museum either.

— ❀ KALIM AL-ASIM

The first ever time you’re taking a magic carpet ride with Kalim, you realize that maybe this is how Barbie felt riding a pegasus. When Kalim asks who is Barbie and what pegasus even is, you explain in vivid detail the whole plot of ‘Barbie and the Magic of Pegasus’ and start singing ‘Cause hope has wings to carry you’. Kalim doesn’t even know the song but somehow ends up guessing the lyrics and the vibe so you two are taking crazy carpet flips and giving Jamil a hard time watching you from the ground. (Spoiler: the next day Jamil is having a hard time listening to Kalim saying they should get a pegasus somewhere.)

Okay apparently you got Kalim planning to recreate the whole ‘Barbie in the 12 Dancing Princesses’ with his siblings because he’s totally invested. HELP he’s so down that he’s been asking you details about barbie outfits for a week, so now it looks like he’s more fan than you are.

Every time you visit Scarabia, Kalim greets you with performances you’ve never thought can be recreated in real life. One day he decorated his magic carpet with light purple jewelry encrusted in the fabrics, the next day he was dressed up as Derek from ‘Barbie in the 12 Dancing Princesses’ and asked you for a dance. It was extremely silly because you suddenly remembered the PC game you played and how ridiculous princesses movements were but you got so immersed into dance you decided to let your inner child arise.

Kalim gifts you 12 dancing princesses dolls collection made by him and his siblings and you straight up start crying out of joy and how thoughtful it is for you, which gets Kalim just as emotional as you, so now Jamil has to take care of two crying silly idiots. Kalim is the one who helps you advertise barbie throughout Twisted Wonderland, because everyone needs to grow fond of it. He also suggests you ask the headmaster if you could assign pink and lilac as Ramshackle dorm's official color scheme so everyone would know you’re a barbie ambassador here in Twisted Wonderland. Also thought it would be a good idea to make hymns for every dorm based on barbie songs but couldn’t decide which one would fit Scarabia, so he just ended up randomly starting singing whatever pops up in his mind.

— ❀ VIL SCHOENHEIT

Usually you just enjoy going shopping with Vil and you’re usually calm and collected, but when you suddenly screamed Vil thought something happened. You almost started crying out of nowhere and when Vil came closer to you and took a look at the glass case he saw a butterfly-shaped necklace. When you started spinning around and bursting in soft giggles, Vil could have sworn he saw pinkish sparkles blossoming around you. Turned out the necklace reminded you of the similar one that appeared in Barbie Fairytopia of which Vil had no idea.

Next day you presented an insanely well-made research on all barbie outfits from every movie, video game and doll. Rook tagged along for beauty and aesthetic appreciation and Epel just heard you mentioning having barbie jeep cruiser convertible car playset so now you’ve got Pomefiore in full force listening to you explaining what barbie culture means in your world and somehow they ended up investing into it quite unironically.

When Epel shows you a magazine issue the next month, you have your jaw somewhere on the floor because the Vil Schoenheit just released a photoshoot inspired by ‘Barbie: A Fashion Fairytale’ you once showed to him. He understands the impact of barbie culture on your generation and realizes how trendy it can get in Twisted Wonderland.

Not Vil passing the casting for a film adaptation of ‘Barbie and The Diamond Castle’ based on the movie you have saved on your phone— And not the Neige LeBlanch playing Alexa… In any case you can’t imagine what started as you getting excited over a necklace similar to Barbie’s one, ended up Vil and Neige starring in one of your favorite movies but here in Twisted Wonderland.

He gives you the necklace, but not that similar one you saw in a shop. He proudly gifts you the necklace just like in the movie you watched with him after introducing barbie culture, and you tear up, saying you won’t ever take it off and it’ll be on your neck forever. Now you’ve got Vil (and actually a whole Pomefiore considering they should make adjustments in their dorm’s aesthetic choices) genuinely liking barbie culture thanks to you.

— ❀ IDIA SHROUD

You were playing video games with Idia when something suddenly slapped you — the game resembles ‘Barbie Diaries’ so much!! When Idia asks you what the hell is barbie, you jump from the chair and drop your px5 controller. No way… there is no way Idia doesn’t know this masterpiece, you thought he got influenced by barbie culture while growing up.

You can’t say no to this challenge, so the next day the powerpoint party you decided to hold got extremely serious and unironically informative. You’ve got everything prepared: how barbie was created, when the movies were released, which dolls were to die for, and of course… games!!

Let’s be real, it’s Idia who’s investing, and he’s investing hard. He got all the songs from ‘Barbie as The Princess and the Pauper’ memorized in an hour after listening to your presentation. He doesn’t care if people think it’s a childish thing, NO WAY it’s childish when the ‘When you live your dream, you’ll find destiny is written in your heart’ line LITERALLY EXISTS.

He makes barbie PC games based on your descriptions in a span of one day because he’s already a true barbie stan and he doesn’t care if he’s sleep deprived. He’s got all the barbie movies you sent him to watch. Idia also is being sad because how the hell Twisted Wonderland couldn’t came up with something so genuinely genius. He also sighs and complains to you that he kinda fell behind and would be late for the trend if he was in your world because he started stanning barbie after it became mainstream, but you reassure him that it’s alright and he can be barbie ambassador in Twisted Wonderland with you.

When you help him arrange a barbie doll collection no one knows how Idia even recreated, he also gives to you a huge dollhouse with barbie playsets you’ve mentioned briefly. Right when you’re about to tear up, he gets panicked but also installs on your laptop all the PC barbie games he managed to create based on your words. Please don’t abandon him and play all the barbie games he created with him in his room. It's obviously better to (share the memories but he’s too shy to say it out loud okay—) play them on his computer anyway.

You can wake him up at 3 in the morning and randomly say ‘Can’t go back, so we gotta go on, we’ll stick together, staying strong’ and he’ll perfectly accompany you with his eyes closed, humming ‘There’s a diamond castle in my mind and someday soon’ because he memorized all the songs. Ortho mentions how Idia starts singing barbie songs here and there in the dorm. Idia also wants to provide you with cosplay materials, so if you don’t mind…

— ❀ MALLEUS DRACONIA

Once Malleus mentions he’s a fae during late night strolls around Ramshackle, you suddenly start singing softly ‘Fairytopia’s where I wanna be, Dandelion and Bibble next to me’ and Malleus gets so confused. Who… are Dandelion and Bibble? Also Fairytopia? Is it what your homeland calls? Are there faes in your world too? Tell him everything!

You show movies you downloaded on your phone (even if you never thought the very first thing you would show on your phone would be barbie movies, moreover it’s Malleus who’s bad with technologies) and he immediately starts asking you questions like ‘Why would Laverna want to destroy the rainbow and plunge Fairytopia into bitter winter?’, ‘Are there different types of fairies or only the ones that have wings behind their backs?”, and many other things.

He also wants to know if you’re not opposed to the idea of dancing with him like 12 dancing princesses did. You also sing to him when you feel like it, and once he heard of ‘Barbie as The Princess and the Pauper’ he felt as if he was enchanted. Turns ‘Free’ into opera performance with Lilia filming him for something he referred to as ‘family archives’, Silver being happy Malleus-sama is happy, and Sebek tearing up because his master is absolutely majestic, brilliant, wonderful, outstanding and—

He doesn’t really understand the concept of collecting dolls but sees Lilia’s room getting filled with them (Diasomnia vice dorm leader doesn’t really know he ordered them from Idia but that’s another story—) and smiles. Malleus also rehearses the songs with Silver in the meadow so he could impress you later.

You feel like crying when it's a warm sunset dissolving in pink and peach colors and Malleus sings ‘In my heart I’d be glad if you loved me for me’. It’s touching and reminds you of your home so much you can’t resist and tear up, Malleus gently stroking your head. Once you calm down, he grins and says there’s something he wants to present to you. He doesn’t know how to make or at least where to buy barbie dolls, people are also terrified of him so there’s no way he could play a role in a movie like Vil Schoenheit, but he’s a fae. He doesn't have fragile pinkish wings, but he’s a powerful magician who wants to thank you for introducing such an adorable culture to him.

So he magically creates a beautiful bright rainbow just for you, giving you an enchanted butterfly-shaped necklace, resembling one that Elina had in ‘Barbie Fairytopia’, so if you’ll have a hard time, just touch the necklace, and the small version of a magic rainbow will appear. ‘Hope will blossom by believing the heart that lies within’.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #riddle x reader #leona x reader #azul x reader #kalim x reader #vil x reader #idia x reader #malleus x reader #riddle rosehearts #leona kingscholar #azul ashengrotto #kalim al asim #vil schoenheit #idia shroud #malleus draconia

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rekino2114 · 3 months ago

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Sophie walten with a reader that's a therapist because something tells me she needs it

Sophie walten with a therapist reader

A/n:she very much does need one as most analog horror protagonist do.....and probably me too after watching them....I'm still not over lacey games I WANT TO HUG THAT GIRL SO BAD let me know if you want me to write for her btw cause I'll gladly do it....I got a little off topic....hope you enjoy

It was actually Jenny who convinced Sophie to get a therapist. After the whole bunnyfarm thing and getting her memories back, she became a lot more depressed,and her best friend hated seeing her like that so she advised her to get help.

In her first session, she was very surprised to see that you were the same age as her while being a qualified therapist (she also thought you were hot). Despite her initial hesitancy, she actually opened up a lot to you, about her family and their deaths especially.

She really liked how you not only believed her but told her not to take her pills anymore as forgetting everything would not help her heal but probably make it worse.

She felt herself warming up to you more and more with each session and eventually realized she had a crush on you....which worried her a lot, not only she thought you didn't like her back but even If you for some reason did, you were still her therapist, being in a relationship with a patient would have probably resulted in you losing your license.

All of these contrasting feelings made her talk to Jenny again, who advised her to talk to you. After all, you were her therapist. Her blushing uncontrollably while laying on a therapist's couch was not the love confession she had in mind but she still went for it.

And to her surprise you actually reciprocated her love and agreed to be in a relationship with her, when she expressed concern over you losing your job for that you just told her you'd find a solution and even if you did lose your job she was more important. That really touched her.

During your relationship, you still act as Sophie's therapist just in a more intimate way, especially while cuddling, she likes to vent about everything while you hug her and she has her head on your chest.

Sophie genuinely has no idea what her life would have been if she hadn't met you, you helped her face her traumatic memories instead of keeping them repressed like she did before. She loves you so much and is genuinely so thankful to have you both as a therapist and as a lover

#the walten files x reader #the walten files #walten files #sophie walten x reader #sophie walten #x reader #gn reader

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velvetvexations · 3 months ago

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how much internet horror stuff have you watched? were there any ones you liked? or alternatively any ones you really wanna shit talk?

The Left Right Game fucking sucks. It actually helped me develop a core part of what I consider maybe the most important maxim of writing horror, which is that you don't need to tell the audience the answers and you don't even have to necessarily have the answers yourself, but you must always, without exception, at least give the impression there are answers.

TLRG never for one second feels like it's mysterious bullshit means anything. Like, you have to pick up a hitchhiker and drive him down the road awhile, but if you say anything to him that entire time something bad will happen. Why? Well like my right hand every night it BEATS THE FUCK OUT OF ME, it's just a spooky "rule" you're supposed to follow because horror fans are annoying about "rules" based horror, like I have autism and OCD too but I'd like to read something that's actually scary and not just this weird audience self-insert stuff that's reminiscent of the worst zombie fiction where you just wanna feel good about how well you'd totally win by following all the rules that you memorized like the nerd that you are.

Like, it's not the rules themselves that are the problem necessary. Rules horror CAN be good. But in TLRG all the rules, all the mysterious and dangerous events, are completely random and pulled right out of the author's ass. Which, again, would be fine if the author could at least pretend there's something going on behind the scenes and not just clearly throwing spookiness at the wall to see what sticks.

...as to internet horror I like, there's

Local 58

Gemini Home Entertainment

Valle Verde

This House Has People in It*

How-To Video Results

Alex Bale's short films**

Gilbert Garfield

Stephanie Lawson Stevens

No One Can Find This "Creepy Dinosaur" Game...***

Kane Pixel's work

Blue Emesis

Brian David Gilbert's work

ghosttundra's work

British Cryptids and the rest of the Whinny Moor extended universe in general

Lacey Games

and MyHouse.wad****.

*I choose to classify this as internet horror because it had an associated ARG and only aired like once on Adult Swim before YouTube became it's primary home

**specifically not including Happy Meat Farms, which he's involved in but does not interest me; he's also working on his first feature film, however, which does interest me quite a lot

***it's a month old, so no spoiler on the fact that it's a work of fiction

****I'm also counting this as internet horror because it's so interwoven with the experience of being in the Doom modding community that I would say it's necessary to be at least familiar with a lot of that for the full impact, not only within the game itself but also how it incorporates you innocently going to download it as you would any other mod rather than it like, being listed on a storefront

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fuka-petals · 8 months ago

Text

♡ Introduction post ♡

@fuka-petalsart <- just art

my persona

info on me

hihi am V but like you can also call me Kennith, Flower, etc.

Minor (over 14, clarification bc yk what passed) (I'm fine with adults interacting)

I use vamp/they/he/it/voca/soap/flower pronouns {in order of preference}

I'm diagnosed autistic, seeking a diagnosis for bpd, ocd, npd, and adhd (not self diagnosed just see symptoms in both me and relatives and would like a concrete answer) also some other things I'd rather not disclose

I'm an angelkin enby that uses xenogenders and am a lesbian

not always in the "right state of mind" if I say smth stupid please let me know l8tr so I can delete it

I have issues with being kind and having empathy please be patient I'm not trying to be mean (at least. Most of the time)

I defend things I like I don't care how fucking annoying it is if you piss me off I'll defend my views (unless you annoy me...idrc for dealing with ppl who don't listen) but like I'm rlly passionate abt some things and even if make a statement while out of it if I agree with it later I will defend it

Really cynical unfortunately. I have bad mood swings and get angry really easily. Again, trying to work on that

If you somehow still think im cool heres my discord -> @/ _vflour

I uh didn't realize how shitty of a person I was until writing this.

I have an ed off and on its not weight related but please don't make comments about if ppl deserve food or not around me it's extremely triggering (self worth issues ig)

I do really want friends though. I guess. Sorry please talk to me I like talking about my intrests I'm not as bad as I seem I swear

Seriously though I'm really lonely

Also I struggle with being clingy and jealous oml jesus christ uh hh WAAAAAAAA

Oh also important kinda but I'm not into guro it's a trauma related intrest but I'm okay with ppl who are into it seeking out my guro/nsfw pixiv if I ever get the courage to post on there

Selfshipper ^_^ single outside of f/os though. Not rlly looking 4 a relationship my ex scared me away from that stuff

I self ship with fukase (vocaloid), vflower (vocaloid), friedrich (mi), vixen (mi), cornelius (mi), and c'venash vishneri (psychopomp). Sorry I'm rlly cringe (draw my sona with any of them and I'll forever be grateful)

I kin betty noir (mi), ame (nso), sumireko (2hu), aoi (you and me and her), yukari (Liar Liar one), and claire (walk in the sun) so dni if you don't like them/hj

Currently hyperfixated on Vocaloid (Specifically V4Flower and Fukase), Mellow's games and ocs (MUNDUS IUMENTORUM!!), Touhou (Specifically Sumireko), Len'en, Nso, subahibi, Yume Nikki, any ynfg, Mindhaunt, you me and her, milk bag vns, pmmm, Reflexia, and Psychopomp, murdersims/guro vns in general, Awaria (not a helltaker fan)

all interests (I think) in no particular order - Vocaloid, Flower, Fukase, Utau, Mellow's stuff, Angelbrained's stuff, Mindhaunt, Yume Nikki + ynfgs, YTTD, NSO, ghostie-p & marz mitzi, touhou, subahibi, YOU ME and HER, len'en, lacey games, splatoon, rpg maker horror games, psychedelic looking art, milk inside/outside a bag of milk, rabbit maiden softworks, Liar Liar, precious theater, 8eyes, ranfren, a masochist's tango, madoka magica, precure, ojamajo doremi, reflexia, Saya no uta, mudersims/guro vns in general, corpse party, Awaria (not a helltaker fan)

I fucking hate blueberries

Dni

Olikase fans. (please respect this if nothing else)

Proshippers (don't want dash algorithm picking up things that are triggering to me)

Pro harassment antis

radfems

transphobes

homophobes

acephobes

queerphobia in any way shape or form

racists

sexists (both ways)

l0li/sh0tacons

fatphobes

prolifers

support killing innocent people

ai "artists"

ghost and pals/team 6x111 fans unless I followed you first for other content you post, also their white knighters/apologists...yikes

Puritans. You will be blocked. It's based in queerphobia and demonizes sexuality. If you don't want to see nsfw then block tags, don't force others to not be kinky because you're an ass (note, I mean people who call it gross n stuff, if you are a minor or ace or smth and don't want nsfw accs following you bc of that that's fine! Also this isn't an nsfw acc either, I have a pixiv 4 that, just rlly passionate abt my hate 4 puritans...)

furry haters (grow up its 2024)

Mellow haters (why are you even here)

Tcc fans. You wouldnt survive a day on 4chan and kiwifarms

use the term femboy on women (on non women is fine w/ permission)

Blacklist

Do not bring up @/ Denzi-P to me or talk about me to them. They are not a good person and I do not wish to be associated with them.

Try and keep that the only name on this list

Links

itch

toyhouse

everskies

soundcloud

artfight

strawpage (will be replaced with a neocities site soon)

#intro post #dni list #ugh #i feel sick

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moochii-daisies · 18 days ago

Text

2015.05.

- 18+, Minors DNI

Warnings - Content Contains: Dark themes, tw: pill mention, SH mention, unstable mental health, cussing, smoking, drinking, Lacey and MC straight up throw hands, tension, drama, conflict, sexual/suggestive things occur (but not smut - technically) - everyone is Going Through It. There is Angst haha. (MC is very sensitive).

Sidnotes: this was inspired by that run bts special episode where they wore cat ears and jimin was dancing and pretending to be sad/cry haha anyways - thank you for reading if you do and i hope you enjoy <3

Find the rest here!

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Dance like no-one can see you sobbing on the dance floor.

I mean - Dance like no-one is watching, right?

That's how the saying typically goes.

I'm gonna come back to that later I promise. But there are still some spots missing between now and then. The little things are important.

Once I had made a full recovery, Jungkook made me promise that I would stay within his line of sight for all future ragers and game nights. I wanted to be playful about it, trying not to dwell on the few disjointed memories that remained after being drugged. But the look on his face made me pause, so I went with a humble nod instead. Feeling a little timid under the force of his atypical seriousness.

The guys had theories that I had been given some kind of downer. One that mixed rather poorly with the alcohol I'd had. They bickered over technical differences between the ones they knew of and asked me for details on how it all felt. They were sensitive with their questions though, and very quickly learned to never do it in front of Jungkook or Yoongi.

Aw hell. Jungkook and Yoongi.

The two never fought after that night but we (the entire household) almost wished that they would. Disdain was unnatural for JK's usually youthful demeanor. Just as much as shame was for Yoongi's typical stoicism. Both pairs of shoulders would square up in the presence of the other and as if on cue, everyone would begin to exchange glances that carried non-verbal messages. Sussing out the best way to prepare for any possibly impending brawls.

Lacey and I were each assigned, in a sense, to Jungkook and Yoongi, while the others would divvy themselves up. Assessing the best dynamics - which would change depending on various moods.

It wasn't so bad that we couldn't all hang out together or anything like that. Our weekend plans still carried onward without a hitch and things at home felt relatively peaceful all things considered. The awkward tension between Yoongi and I wasn't gone, but it had been taken over by the more aggravated tension between him and Jungkook. Come to think of it - I saw so little of Yoongi that it was almost like the crackling intensity between us had disappeared. Almost. For the rest of that first year anyway.

Either way, the point remains the same - life carried on.

And the guys made more than enough effort to ensure that I was -really- okay with the parties continuing.

I said yes, of course.

Maybe I should've said no. That I needed time to process things and to take at least a week off before getting back to it. I mean - maybe I would've, if I had known that's what I needed - but I didn't. Trying to forget what little I remembered was my only goal, and what better way was there to do that besides partying with my best friends? Well, there was one other way, but I'm getting to that.

The second half of their first year at the house marched along, mostly at a snail's pace. Roadrunner moments rushed past us and turned into memories before we could even acknowledge that they had happened. (The knife night, Tae's "wine and painting" party, Jimin's 24 hour dance-a-thon, mushroom week - to name a few.)

Lacey and I saw each other a whole lot less than we had been. Partly because she never came clean about what she told Jungkook exactly or what she remembered from that night. But it was mostly because of how much Yoongi had upped his PDA. It was to a degree that made us all wonder if he was doing it on purpose. Like he wanted us to see it.

He would lay in Lacey's lap on the living room couch or hold her in his. Someone's hand was always dipping down into places or holding onto places or pulling on places that made the other let out sounds too sensual to be appropriate in a shared space. During ragers we would exclusively see him holding her from behind. It got to the point where seeing Lacey without his arms wrapped around her like a backpack felt worrying instead of normal.

When any of us got the chance to ask how he was doing - he would hide his face behind Lacey's shoulder, muttering in a voice so low that she would have to relay his words to the rest of us. I don't think we saw him alone much after that, not for the rest of that first year at least.

Jimin and Hobi took to monitoring them around the house with weary looks. Snapping, "In your motherfuckin' ROOM bro!" whenever they stopped caring about where they were (which was often). Lacey would keep her head down, adjusting clothes and trailing behind Yoongi as he pulled her by the hand. He would mumble his bitter retorts just loud enough for Hobi and Jimin to hear. The sound distorted by his stomping down the stairs. Things like, "God forbid I touch my girlfriend in my own house." or "Kinda funny to be actin' like such fuckin' prudes when -". You know, things like that. Things that were mostly returned with eye rolls and unseen middle fingers.

It was ironic enough to feel ridiculous - that Jungkook and I had become the "easy ones" in the household. It wasn't like we were any better about public displays of affection - we just never got truly grumpy after being told to cut it out.

Regardless of that, we appreciated that we were no longer seen as the (only) "too touchy" couple and tried to see it as a silver lining.

To say it came with better treatment from the others would be a stretch but not entirely a lie. There was one (1) more time that we got carried away but when it stopped happening completely, both Jimin and Hobi's teasing became lighthearted.

Joon, who usually relied on Yoongi for help, started going to JK instead. Something JK was elated by and took very, very seriously.

And Jin would come stand next to the front porch couch we'd curl up on in the mornings. Holding a bowl of cereal or his Sherlock pipe with one hand and placing his other onto Jungkook's shoulder. A small, stoned speech about us being "his golden children" always followed. There was one time in particular - when he stepped out front mid-yawn with a joint sticking out of the pipe's bowl.

"You two...you little baby babies. I just, every day I think - 'wow', you're my -"

"Golden children." Jungkook and I interjected in sync.

"See? See how my golden eggs hatched into these - these two...just...spectacular beings? They grow up so fast I just..." Jin's attempt at speaking came to a halt so he could pluck up the joint and light it mid-air. Letting it dangle from the corner of his mouth after he had succeeded. Falling silent as he patted Jungkook on the shoulder with (we think?) pride.

I personally believed that his lips were so plush - he could stick almost anything between them and it wouldn't fall. And we would test this belief whenever he'd pass out on the living room couch. With his arms crossed and back weirdly straight for being slightly reclined - it was hard to tell whether he was fully unconscious or just resting his eyes. Once, after Hobi had tucked the handle of our heaviest ladle in between Jin's slightly parted lips, Jin's eyes flew open in a glare and made Hobi shriek in surprise. Flailing his limbs as he whooped, like a spider had fallen down the back of his shirt. Jin didn't move from the couch but projected his voice at full volume to chase after Hobi.

"YAH - THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING? DO YOU THINK THAT BEAUTY REST IS A JOKE? YOU THINK I LOOK LIKE THIS FROM ONLY GETTING REGULAR SLEEP?" - JK and I were laughing so hard we stopped making noise, and lost all muscle control in our legs. We rolled on the floor, letting out intermittent gasps and smacking each other on the arm. The commotion caught Jin's attention, and he tucked his chin slightly to look down at us from his spot on the couch. Deep pink pillows twitched into a tiny smile as soon as he realized that he was the reason for our laugh attack.

It wasn't enough to call it favoritism per se, but it was enough to be -something-. And although we wouldn't admit it, we did both like being seen as -

"Good babies.".

Those were the last words we got from Jin that morning before he turned on his heel to go back to playing games in his room. A skunky smell swirled through the air behind him as he left.

If I hadn't been privy to witnessing it firsthand, I would have never believed that Jin, Namjoon and Tae were stoners.

But it wasn't a bad thing. Hell, if anything, the generally laidback energy from them helped keep the house balanced. Even after that game night, it felt like everyone kept growing closer. And it was largely because of the different roles each person played. It was understood that part of what we contributed to the house, wasn't anything material.

It was our dedication to functioning as a team.

Because we weren't just roommates who shared a living space, we were learning how to live - together.

Jin and Namjoon primarily took on parental roles and they committed to them more than anyone else in the house. They stepped into them like it was natural, without question. Both doing such a good job at fulfilling the roles that nobody ever thought to ask why they did in the first place.

"High mom and dad." Was a greeting we used with them often. Red eyes, a slow chuckle and a windshield wiper pretending to be a laugh always got the rest of us giggling, on the move to get on their level. In a weird way, it helped us all calm down to see them like that. Like a reminder that nothing bad would happen from being less high strung for a bit. A few of us got wound up easier than the rest, (Jimin, Jungkook, Hobi and I) and if Jin's blazed mothering couldn't settle us down, Joon and Jin would switch places.

It was kind of insane.

Without even glancing at each other, they would both move in unison so that Joon could work his magic in ~Dad Mode~. Whether someone needed hugs, pep talks, deep conversation or a shoulder to lean on - he was a hit in the house. Some of us even called him "Great Teacher" instead (his stoned rants on personal philosophies were some of mine and Yoongi's favorites) - you could always count on Joonie for a life lesson or insightful anecdote. Though, he was so much more than that.

The point was - that if anyone in the house was upset, their sixth senses would tingle as a summons. Jin usually had a blissed out look on his face upon their arrival and liked to pose dramatically against the closest doorframe. Uttering out a strangely seductive, "Hey." once he'd been noticed. Joon would stand behind him - feet wider than his shoulders and hands held in front of his body. Like a bodyguard that used snuggling, heartfelt stories and warm food as an attack. Nobody ever stayed upset there for long, at least, not usually.

And if Jin and Joon were the primary parents of the house, then Tae was more like our resident's super cool stoner aunt. Not necessarily joining in on any trouble, but definitely allowing it. Usually with a coy expression that barely contained his excitement and ok, ok - he did more than just allow it - he absolutely adored encouraging it. But he wouldn't leave anyone to suffer punishment, especially if they were alone. Normally, if anyone got caught causing trouble - he'd appear from around a corner with an expression I'm sure he intended to convey wisdom.

After making his presence known, we could trust that he would step up to prevent anyone from getting reamed by others. Explaining theatrically that HE was the one true culprit all along. Like we were in the middle of a murder mystery (a la "Professor Plum in the library with a wrench"). And the only caveat for his rescue was - that the punishment had to genuinely be unfair. If it wasn't (he always knew when), he'd come around the corner with a sympathetic expression. Using an old cigarette holder to puff at whatever was left of his joint. Now that I think about it, we never saw him with a full one.

For being quite direct and honest, it was impressive that Tae was able to maintain a sense of mystery. Maybe it was because he could not be peer pressured by others. The decisions he made were his and his alone. You'd think he'd be less neutral and a little more chaotic, but he abided by his own moral values like they were a sworn oath. I always admired that about him.

And maybe it was because he knew that he couldn't always save us - but he had a habit of keeping some form of candy in his pockets to give out as consolation. Fishing one out and placing it on whoever was pissed off as a peace token. Surprisingly (or maybe unsurprisingly) - it always worked. Deer eyes would peer at you with curiosity and heartbreaking sincerity. A single curly lock of hair, so dark brown that it was almost black, would fall just so in front of his face, and if the absurdity of his good looks didn't give you pause - the impromptu performances he would come up with sure as hell would.

He recited the entirety of a Robert Frost poem one time.

It was the last time we broke the rule. Jimin was going off on Jungkook and I for making out in the kitchen pantry (- ...there was a good reason, ok? Ok - you want the reason? Here it is - it was because we really, really wanted to. So there.).

"I - Get. It. All right? You're both super hot and if I was in the mix? I can't say I wouldn't be right up in there with ya but our - RICE - is in there guys. Do you want sweaty dick rice? - Shut up Kookie. And it's not just about the rice! This is about sooo much more than 'just the rice'. You little shits, stop laughing, I swear to god. Come with me on a journey, will you? I wanna take you on a journey. A day in MY life, yeah? So focus, dammit. I'll set the scene. Imagine you want a snack - Jungkook shut up - Imagine you want a snack. It's been a long day. You're hungry! A natural occurrence in the human body. This much is well known. We all KNOW this to be true. Except for babies probably. Who knows what they actually know. But it's okay though, because YOU are not a baby. YOU are an adult. But hang on - what are you going to eat? You're at a loss. Perhaps there is no answer. You almost give up hope. And then it hits you. A stroke of genius. An incredible whim of creative intelligence. You have a brilliant idea. So you go downstairs - Kookie, shut the fuck up - you're excited! You can't even REMEMBER the last time you ate. And all you can think about, are the glorious snacks that are one door away. Just ONE door is all that stands between you and a happy stomach. And then you open that door - the pantry door of OUR home mind you, as an innocent man. Only to see, instead of snacks, two of your best friends BONKING LIKE TEENAGE RABBITS ON TOP OF YOUR -"

Jimin's infuriated stream of consciousness was interrupted by Tae grabbing hold of him and tilting him back in a dip. A voice like silk.

"I met a lady from the South who said..." - He crooned the opening line to "New Hampshire" by Robert Frost (which we later learned was his longest poem) before pausing for dramatic effect.

With a flick of Tae's wrist - Jimin was flung away from him, still attached by clasped hands. In response to the motion, Jimin proceeded to do the most pissed off double pirouette I had ever seen. Gracefully landing, with a sour lemon look aimed at his partner. Tae paid this no mind and shot us a boxy smile instead. Picking his poetic performance back up and leading a begrudging Jimin in his improvised dance. Suffice to say, our apology was accepted once they were done and Jungkook and I never used the pantry as back up again. Maybe you just had to be there, but I'm telling you - it worked.

And if Tae was our reefer-loving auntie, then Hobi was our designated wine one. Liquor wasn't up Hobi's alley but, he'd met a sommelier at a work party and very quickly became obsessed with the world of wine.

He'd come home from work with his own bottle of red (white in the summertime) and pour himself a generous glass with a hand on his hip. Emulating the same energy as a woman going through a stressful, messy divorce (but one who was going to win). Getting cornered by a wine drunk Hobi meant getting a lecture on self-love. If he caught Lacey, Jimin, Tae or I while we were also drunk - crying through a returned self-love speech was inevitable. There was one time that he got Joon to do it and to this day, we will not let him live it down. "You're a buttercup, daisy. Got me wishin' you were my lady" was the accidental rap that Namjoon had professed to Hobes. Both had their eyes closed and bottom lips bit, moving their heads to a beat that none of us had access to. Jungkook swears that Hobi even got Yoongi to give a couple speeches before they moved, but Yoongi said he would only reveal the truth after 63 years - we believed Jungkook.

While it may sound sweet, these lectures usually meant an astoundingly strong grip on your shoulder and Hobi pointing the index finger of his hand, the one holding the wine glass, into your face with a frown. We could all recite his speech by heart within that first year.

"NO. You don't understand," He would drop to a whisper as wine sloshed up the sides of his glass, "YOU are special. YOU are important. And don't even get me STARTED on - no, you know what? You deserve to hear it all...". And if you weren't in the mood for it, your best bet was to nod along, with the hope that he would get side-tracked by someone looking more in need of a pep-talk than you. Serious, lovey and completely out of it. That was the entirety of Wine Hobi's emotional spectrum.

Self-love lectures were especially reserved for one on one though, and aside from that - wine aunt Hobi worked wonders on a crowd.

There was one time that an argument had broken out amongst the entire house and we had all gathered in the living room to discuss it.

"It" being: Namjoon's piles.

They had gotten out of control.

Now, I organized things into piles around my room and sometimes throughout my house. They served a purpose, sure. But this was different. A full suit (shoes included), his keys, sunglasses and a half-finished protein shake were found in the kitchen sink one morning. A similar thing happened during a house-hunt for his briefcase. We found it in his shower - along with a pair of headphones, a pile of laundry, a plant and its future pot and what appeared to be a collection of used tissues. Similar assortments of things kept popping up in piles all over the house until every room had at least 6 or 7.

To each their own, right?

Except Great Teacher Namjoon had become upset over the mysterious amount of his stuff that kept disappearing. Stuff that he was completely convinced we had moved for some "juvenile game". An accusation that some (one) of us did not take lightly.

"Please tell me why I would take or want three different single socks, a broken game controller, 32 chords that none of us can identify or your TNMT blanket hoodie? What kind of 'game's' do you think I like to play, huh?" Jimin could not have made his response any drier. With a taut jaw and tongue poking his cheek, he raised his eyebrow while Namjoon stammered. Puffing out his cheeks with wide open eyes to get his frustration across after he'd accepted that words had failed him.

The rest of us were mostly divided between supporting Jimin, not minding the piles and wanting to speak up (but also hoping things would resolve before they had to).

Jimin was rightfully upset. He had sprained an ankle after tripping over one of the piles and had to miss work. He tried to show up anyways but the studio wrangled Jungkook in to sub, telling Jimin to take a rest - in what they believed would be taken - as a kind gesture.

Unfortunately, it was driving Jimin insane. Trying not to stress about the financial setback gave him so much time and energy to notice the piles. To stew about how those piles made him feel.

It wasn't going great.

Things rarely got torn like this and we all sat frozen, unsure of what to do.

Our saving grace was a sound effect that could be heard from the kitchen. The clatter of cabinet doors and clanging of pots and pans rang out shortly after.

At some point - Hobi had snuck away from us to make a kind of pasta that "came to him in a vision".

"Guess who's making yummy pas-tah?~" Hobi coo'd from a place we couldn't see. The words were sung out in a way that practically begged us to come witness what he was working on.

Jimin was upset at first, when we all started slinking over to see what Hobi was making. He crossed his arms and refused to look at anybody. Jiggling a bandaged ankle that was crossed over his other leg.

Joon, on the other hand, had started shadowboxing in the corner to vent his frustrations. Occasionally stopping to check through the piles that were around the room. With scrutiny, he selected items from the floor and placed them into their own, new piles. Making small groans and whispering, "What the fuck man..." at them before resuming his punching of the air. We felt it was best to leave them be.

It took less than 10 minutes. And by the time the scent of garlic and onion being fried beckoned them over, we had all huddled around Hobi, chanting - "Go Hobi! Go!" while he shook a flaming pan around his body and furiously wiggled his knees.

Any reluctance that Jimin had been feeling about joining us was reduced down to nothing, and within seconds he was hopping around on one foot with Hobi, using Namjoon's shoulder as his crutch. Namjoon held his crutches for him instead - both of them hyping Hobi up until he swung the pan too close to his wine glass. The near collision caused him to sober up and he shoo'd us out of the kitchen, selecting a few helpers to assist him with the rest. A wink and tap of one index finger on the nose was directed at those of us that had gotten rattled from the built up anger and tension. A simple gesture to acknowledge that he had purposefully (at least to some degree) worked to diffuse both with his noodle making scheme.

It was only after we had all tucked into some immaculate white wine and cream sauce pasta that Joon craned his neck to find Jimin.

"I'll clean up the piles dude, I'm sorry again about your ankle."

Jimin chewed on some sauteed asparagus with an unimpressed look for a minute before he set down his fork and shook his hair back from his face.

"It's fine," he said casually, wiping a lip with his thumb, "and if you wanna keep some piles in my room that's fine too just - I'll tell you what area's are okay, yeah?" Joon raised his chin to show a full, closed-mouth, koala smile. Cheeks stuffed with food.

And that was that.

It was like -

Oh wait - there was also the time we were intervention-ing Tae in the kitchen for his hyperfixation on collaging every inch of the house. The oven included. We were mad that he hadn't checked the flammability of the materials he was using, and he was upset that his work had gone up in flames while we were making breakfast.

After sticking his wine glass into view - Hobi simply stepped in, grabbed Tae by the waist and waltzed him into the living room where he had his favorite jazz songs playing. I think we all wound up dancing to them that day.

And Tae took down his fire hazard collages (and contributed the most towards the new oven). So it was agreed that he could collage in his room and shared spaces (as long as it didn't pose a threat to household safety).

You see what I mean?

It just worked.

These family-esque roles only benefited the household and we gained nothing from pretending otherwise. The sense of familial love served as an active reminder that no matter how frustrated anyone felt - love and care were at the center of it all.

No matter what came up.

And even with Jungkook, Yoongi, Lacey and I acting the way that we were.

The tension between Jungkook and Yoongi had added some pressure to the "golden children" role assigned to Jungkook and I. Yoongi normally acted as the household big brother. Or drunk uncle (mixed with a crotchety but loving grandpa). So having him act like a sullen teenager pushed Jungkook and I to get our shit more together (relatively speaking) in an effort to balance things out. I guess it was like - if Yoongi and Lacey were throwing tantrums and failing school to prove their point, then Jungkook and I were trying to get straight A's and never forgetting our manners to prove ours. We all had parts to play.

It made things interesting, to say the least.

Especially considering the fact that we were entirely guilty of being - well, not golden children. The main difference between us and the other couple - was our double bunny energy. A glorified mask. One that nobody bothered checking underneath (although, I'm glad that they didn't).

A double bunny, double life.

Yoongi wasn't the only one who had gotten more clingy after that game night. I don't think I sat on anything besides Jungkook's lap until we all went out to dinner for Jimin's birthday in October - nearly 6 months later. Even after he had yanked my chair as close to his as he could get it, and even with an iron grip glued to my thigh - most of that evening (for me) was spent trying to see anything else besides JK's protruding bottom lip. And convincing us both not to sneak off to a car or bathroom.

Until we had gotten roughly midway through the meal.

Jimin had downed quite a few birthday drinks ("a little mix of everything") by then and was making Tae hold a dollar tree tiara on top of his head (it was meant for much smaller ones). The alcohol was waving a green flag for the thoughts that had been brewing and he sucked in a breath to express the qualm he had.

The one about Jungkook's lips being glued to my ear all evening.

It came out in the form of 20 questions.

"Guys, I'm 23 years old (he was turning 25) and I'm getting too old for this. Whispering sweet nothing's? In front of me? On my birthday? A day about ME? Are you telling her how handsome I am? Even though MELODY (a 4 yr old student of his) insisted on telling me how much she loves him more than me all day?" His head was bobbling as he tried to maintain his stare. The hand holding his nearly empty glass glittered with rings and a few bracelets he had received as gifts. He looked beautiful. Like an expensive angel.

And if Jungkook hadn't been in devil mode, I'm sure I would've been gushing to Jimin about it.

But I didn't have the heart to tell him that Jungkook hadn't been whispering sweet nothings. He had only been whispering "please, please, please" in a way that reached between my legs. And I didn't trust myself to hide the effect it was having enough to make a joke about it. So I gave him compliments that I pretended to relay instead.

Unfortunately, that was really fun for both of them.

As soon as I did, Jungkook immediately and excitedly switched from one word begging to explicit descriptions of everything he would be doing to me once we were alone. I fought for composure and locked the hand he had on my leg in place with a tight squeeze of my thighs.

"Oh my god - Jimin looks so good while he dances that you wish you could carry a personal spotlight for him? Instead of being his TA? Wait, wait - the sexiest man in the world is...is who? Jimin? This angel?"

Jimin did not care where the compliments were really coming from and preened as I babbled on. Jungkook was smiling against my ear at this, detailing just how good he wanted us both to feel. How making me feel good, would make him feel even better. And didn't I want him to feel good?

My mouth had to develop its own brain to get the right words out. And I remember thinking that I was going to faint from trying to keep the act going until Jin cut me off to give his own birthday speech for Jimin. The food and cocktails on the table suddenly looked unappealing as the words Jungkook had spoken were given space to sink in. I clutched a hand around a strong thigh, battling with my mounting desire to unbutton the jeans that covered them.

Jungkook pulled away from me for the first time that evening in order to give Jin his full attention. And because he loved to tease.

I caught a glimpse of his cocky smirk as he lifted his glass of whiskey, gulping the rest down without taking his eyes off Jin. It was one that only grew wider after noticing my pent up and irritated frown looking up at him. Him and his stupidly excellent peripheral vision.

After we returned from the restaurant, everyone a little tipsy and searching for a spot to rest - I was nearly thrown up to the landing of the staircase by the front door. Jungkook stilled in front of me once we were both there, and the anticipation began climbing uncomfortably fast. A hand pressed against the wall behind me while I held my breath underneath him.

Our position had me trapped - although, I'm not sure if that would be the right word for it. We stood there, holding our heads close enough together that the air between us felt tantalizing. I wanted to devour him. And the ability to care about anyone hearing us was rapidly fading away as each second added to our need. But I never had to wait long with Jungkook.

The moment he was (mostly) sure that everyone was couch-locked, I was pushed up against, locked into a kiss so forceful that it wiped me clean. A blank slate.

The truth is, I could act like JK and Yoongi were the only ones that had gotten more attached since that game night - but I was just as bad, if not worse than both of them combined.

You remember the "other way to forget" that I mentioned?

Well, this was it.

Loving on and letting myself be loved on by this incredible person - who was kissing me on that landing like he could turn back time, if he could just -

If he could only -

Scrambling against each other had us panting into open mouths.

"What did I tell you earlier?" He groaned the words as softly as he could along my jawline. Biting onto it in an attempt to distract from how he was shaking. It registered as a command and I hiked up a knee, keeping it tight against the side of his body. Wrapping one arm underneath it, he pushed it up even further so it was pressed back into my shoulder. Stepping his feet in so he could feel the front of my body against his without feeling hindered.

The sensation turned me into an animal. And my tugs on the back of his hair turned aggressive. That hint of pain had him making the noises that were stuck in my throat. As quiet as we were trying to be, they surrounded us and made me dizzy. There was nothing else in the world in that moment but him. I couldn't remember that game night. I couldn't torture myself with images of Lacey and Yoongi. I couldn't feel the guilt, or anxiety, or fear. I couldn't remember what happened before -

All there was, was Jungkook.

Just Jungkook.

My Jungkook. Who had slowed his pace down just enough. Not so much that I could stop fighting to keep up, but enough that the only thought able to make it to my awareness was: "More.".

I couldn't tell you when I started saying it out loud.

But I remember the exact moment it became all I could hear.

Over and over and over again. It was like it became the only word I knew.

"More, more - mph - more." A single word that felt almost like a prayer. Or a wish. Or the simplest kind of need.

Jungkook smiled as both of my arms locked in place around his neck.

"Hold on tighter baby," The words were given as a soft order and my muscles reacted on their own accord.

I was lifted up completely, my legs following the movements of my arms - ankles wrapped around each other a little tighter than needed to keep him pressed against me.

The trembling from both of us wasn't because of nerves or fear of getting caught, but from trying to keep some semblance of self-control.

"JK, I want - I want to," -

"I know baby, me too, I know."

Catching on fire wouldn't have made me pause. I don't think I would have even felt it over the heat radiating out from both of our cores.

Once I was lifted, any memory of the staircase blipped out of existence. Jungkook was everything the universe had created and I became the black void that held him together. Without him filling me up, there was nothing. A sky without stars. Unbearably empty. I needed him to -

"Fill me.".

Jungkook nearly dropped me at the words and it took me a minute to realize they had even left my mind.

But I had zero time to reflect on the fact that they had because Jungkook's rutting against me escalated in strength so suddenly I worried - for a split second - our clothing would disintegrate from the friction. The slightest amount of separation between us had revealed itself to be a shared level of Hell. It could no longer be ignored.

"Need it, need you - I need to. Fuck. Baby, I need you." Jungkook was almost slurring the words and removed my hold around his neck to slip his fingers between mine. Pushing our interwoven hands up against the wall behind my back. Shifting just slightly so that I was sandwiched between it and him, my legs tightened around his waist. Deepening the pressure and nearly vibrating at the ever-increasing hardening between them.

He needed me too.

Just like I needed -

My heart felt like it was growing, blind to the fact that it'd been tied down with rope.

Here's the thing.

This was the night that started the Bunny Challenge. And it's 100% because of what I did next.

I smirked.

Our eyes were both closed at this point, but he felt the smirk on my face as he murmured the words of need. If my eyes had been opened maybe I would've been able to see how he looked when he did.

Instead, all I heard was a low laugh from deep in his chest. And all I felt were his hands slowly removing themselves from my still grabbing ones.

I didn't consider the volume of my voice before letting out a whine of frustration.

"Baby, noooo - what are you - come back to me." I spluttered and made my best attempts to keep him from stopping. Unfortunately - I was still in a turned on haze and Jungkook's reflexes were entirely out of my league.

"Do you like driving me insane?" Jungkook's tone was doing nothing to calm me down. I wiggled desperately to rekindle what he had stopped so suddenly, still trapped underneath and around him. Feeling a heartbeat from the part of him that still felt so far away as it thumped against the highest point between my thighs.

"Yes," I hissed the words at him. My frustration gave my eyes the strength to shoot open and glare at him.

That goddamn cocky smile.

I huffed to myself and Jungkook worked to remove my legs. Only looking back at me once I had been gently lowered onto the ground. There was the closest thing to wickedness I ever saw from him when he did.

There was no chance to collect myself before Jungkook started kissing me again. In a way that made it impossible to believe he would ever stop. In the kind of way that made me believe that what we both wanted was surely, going to happen.

And then he stopped.

"I bet that even if you tried your hardest, you couldn't get me to break the rules." He said the words as a taunt.

It worked immediately.

I readjusted my jeans before scoffing back at him, "Oh you're so on sweet boy." - a single kiss was my reward.

"Then the Double Bunny Challenge starts now baby." He swayed back and forth in front of me as he said it, one hand against the wall and the other in his front pocket. He had leaned forward, trying to find some relief and in an attempt to seem unbothered.

I lowered myself down onto my knee's, leaning just the slightest bit forward to breathe hot air against the spot he was trying to calm down. A hand flew to the back of my head and pushed me closer. I could hear that JK had tilted his head back as the "Oh fuck" he moaned echoed out from the ceiling above us.

In all honesty, the feeling of his hand controlling my head nearly made me cave in before we had even gotten started. The faintest awareness of footsteps is the only thing I can thank for helping me find any grip on rationality.

Jungkook changed the movement of his hand to tug me by the hair. Helping me lean against the wall like it was casual and not because my legs were shaking too much to stand. 20 fingers went to work at the tangles in each other's hair, smoothing them out so that we didn't look like we had been doing the things we were doing.

"Jesus, for a second I was worried I was gonna walk in on something nasty." Jimin's voice travelled up the staircase and we both spluttered out laughs. Like he had said something unheard of.

"Uh, we're mature now dude. Remember? You won't catch us slippin'." Jungkook leaned over the banister with a laugh while I gave thanks to the shadows for hiding the flush stinging my cheeks.

"Yeah, yeah - you're somethin'. That's for sure. Joonie needs help with something then it's your turn to make me a birthday drink. Cause it's my birthday, I dunno if you recall but I'm kinda a big deal and I'm normally really humble about it but this is the one day..." Jimin's voice trailed off as he babbled. Footsteps tapping away quietly on his journey back to the living room.

Jungkook and I took our time down the stairs. I excused myself for a smoke to finish calming down and Jungkook looked down at me with a shit-eating grin.

"Of course baby. We wouldn't want you giving into anything. Especially something that's, I dunno, against the rules?" I smacked him on the arm and turned away in a huff. Unknowingly doing exactly what he wanted.

A hand slid between my legs as I opened the front door. The pads of his fingers applied just enough pressure, to just the right place, and had me clapping a hand over my mouth to muffle the gasp I couldn't control.

It was over in an instant. And JK swaggered off without giving me the satisfaction of seeing if my reaction affected him.

I chain-smoked outside until the guys called me in to ref a game of beer pong.

Despite the consequences of it - the Bunny Challenge alleviated some of the pressure from the "golden children" role. It made it easier to navigate to a certain extent. Preoccupied us, I guess you could say.

One morning, after a particularly intense Bunny Challenge in the basement's laundry room - I bumped into Yoongi on his way down the stairs.

Jungkook had gone back to his room to "take care of something" and I had decided to go to the front porch. Hoping that the winter chill would knock my brain back into reality. Also because Jungkook had almost won that round but wound up falling victim to his own plan. "Baby go upstairs and stop talking. I have to stop looking at you and - ok, all my senses? You hafta be blocked. Skedaddle.".

Maybe that was why I did it.

Asked Yoongi if he wanted a coffee and a smoke.

Had things really gotten to the point where I was asking Yoongi to hang out and help me calm down? It seemed so impossible that I would ever have mild enough feelings to be around him like that. I didn't say it, but I remember wondering if Yoongi felt the same - because after coming to a halt, he only paused for a moment. And then he said yes.

The moment our body weight had sunk into that front porch couch, I couldn't believe I had ever thought anything so stupid. Sitting there with him did manage to snap me out of the lust Jungkook had stirred up. But it didn't come close to calming me down.

Every hair on my body raised at the awareness of Yoongi being beside me. I puffed at my cigarette robotically. Unable to understand how I had swung from one extreme to the other. From the feelings with Jungkook to the ones that came out around Yoongi.

"So..." I mustered up the word blankly. Glad that my regular person peripheral vision was only allowing me glimpses of ebony strands and a hint of one round cheek.

"So." Yoongi was always much more concise with his words.

A few more minutes passed. The sound of inhaling and exhaling bordered on being meditative.

"So I'm gonna play a show here next month. Once the holidays are over and stuff." Yoongi stated.

"So...in January?"

A small chuckle.

"So, yeah. January 13th."

I didn't fight the smile tugging across my face very hard.

"SooOooOo, that's pretty cool man. I can't wait to see it." I bounced my heel against the wooded floor. The memory of how we first met, how this all started, came back as a good one. It felt sweet. And so simple. I just wanted to see him -

"I hope you dance." The deepness of his voice pushed inside of me to let the words hit even deeper.

I swiveled to gawk at him, hoping a clever retort would find its way out of my mouth, but he was looking at the ashtray. Stubbing out his cigarette and letting it fall into the pile of ones already there.

"Babe I know your show is coming up but I -" Lacey's voice was small and needy until it abruptly stopped. I didn't catch it but I'm sure it was the moment she realized who was sitting next to Yoongi.

My feeble smile faltered at her wrinkle nose'd expression. The "hi" I was about to say lodged in my throat. A weak wave instead then.

It was completely ignored.

Yoongi had stiffened upon hearing her voice and I knew better than to hope for a chance of eye contact. Or saying goodbye. Or telling him that it had been so nice to talk to him. That I wanted to know more about his show and the work he had done to make it happen. What had inspired him for this one and if he had been working on it since they moved. Or if it started before then.

He stood up to make his way over to Lacey and I narrowed my eyes straight ahead, inspecting the nearly finished cigarette between my index and middle fingertips.

I was too nervous to put it out. To feel Lacey's glare on me as I moved. To be way too aware of Yoongi not looking at me, despite being maddeningly conscientious about every little thing he was doing.

I fiddled with the butt of the cigarette instead. Trying not to notice the words Lacey was saying and the hurt in Yoongi's voice as he gave his response.

He hoped I'd dance.

My stomach attempted to catapult itself outside of my body when I remembered why Yoongi and I had drifted apart in the first place. Why Lacey was here at all.

Jungkook.

My feelings for Jungkook.

I braced myself for a self-loathing fueled game of "what if" - but it never even got the chance to start. Thoughts of JK laying in bed downstairs rinsed me clean. Well, relatively speaking. I didn't need to fix Yoongi's relationship with Lacey and I didn't need to hate myself for where we all were now. I still did, but I didn't need to show penance through relentless overthinking. It's not like I was unhappy with where I was now. If Yoongi hadn't been happy with Lacey before... that had to have changed at least a bit by now, right? The past year's images of Lacey and Yoongi played through thoughts in a mental slideshow.

Yeah.

We were all happier now.

The thing about lying to yourself is that eventually you have to face the truth.

Christmas and New Year's celebrations went by in a flash. My mother loved Jungkook and had his personalized stocking ordered for the next year before we had gotten through Christmas morning. The guy's had their own celebrations - only Namjoon, Tae and Hobi went back home to see their families - and we all got WAY too into mulled wine before our white elephant gift exchange.

December felt 4 days long - Jin's birthday, Tae's early birthday, Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. The first two weeks of January could've been one and I wouldn't have been able to confirm otherwise.

But on January 13th, things in the house changed.

Jungkook and I were jerked upright that morning by both the sound of something breaking from colliding with the wall and the sound of the wall being hit. In a blood-curdling volume, Lacey's shrieks - barely muffled behind closed doors helped us wake up faster than we did most mornings.

"YOU TOLD ME THAT IF WE DID THIS -" Pierced our eardrums with an icepick. "YOU KNOW THAT I -HATE- HER AND YOU STILL JUST -" Made an attempt to pull out my spine in one piece.

"No way that's you baby." Jungkook whispered before circling his arms around me. Hands flattened against my ears to block out any sound. I curled up into his embrace, taking note of all the different senses that had been taken over by him.

It went on for hours though. And after accepting that things wouldn't be resolved anytime soon - Jungkook decided to check on them. He slid on noise cancelling headphones to take the place of his hand coverage and kissed me on the forehead.

It had to have been less than 10 minutes later but I didn't look at the clock. My eyes were glued to the door.

A blur of an object whizzed past the open crack in it and the thud that followed felt like it shook the framing of the house. It buzzed into my bones and made me uncomfortably aware of the amount of teeth in my mouth.

Jungkook came stumbling into the room, taking steps backwards and bumping into the door without any of the caution he had left with. In front of him was Lacey, who was fighting against Yoongi and his attempts to hold her back.

"YOU -" The words ripped their way into my ears as the headphones were torn off of them. Lacey had broken free and was standing over me on the bed. Yoongi was now focused on wrangling Jungkook to stop him from going after her.

Then all I could see was Lacey raising a fist back and dropping to her knees in what looked like slow motion towards me.

Grab her by the waist and turn.

Roll her onto her back and pin her with knees on each side of the hips.

Use feet to trap legs and prevent kicking back.

Wrists, pin elbows down.

A thunder of footsteps. Scuffling behind me turned into silence. I held Lacey down like that, lost in limbo - until her unintelligible screams morphed into guttural sounding cries. One blink. And I lowered myself down to hug her. Letting the pressure of my body act as a weighted blanket until her arms wrapped around my waist to keep me there.

I vaguely remember hushed voices and shuffling footsteps coming from the doorway.

But it took hours.

When Lacey's crying had stopped, and her breathing had returned to normal - I eased myself off to sit next to her. She sat up with a clogged nose, watery hazel eyes a little pink but perfectly round.

"I'm not okay. Like, mentally." She said it angrily. Pulling her knees up to her chest and closing her arms around them. I mirrored her position.

"Me too -", my initial response got a snort from her.

"Yeah, okay. You're so fucked up that it made you sweet and caring instead of cutting yourself or literally going apeshit." The sarcasm came out in self-defense but it made me prickly.

"Ok hey now - if you think if I haven't cut myself or gone apeshit then you have a lot to learn about me." A little laugh relaxed us both.

"Fair. I'm sorry. It's just - I'm just - I'm like, really. REALLY. Not okay. Yoongi knows I wanna have kids and get married, any order is fine, you know? I just was like - I moved my whole life to a random ass state he wanted to go to all of a sudden and now he's like 'Babe I just gotta focus on my music right now' and I am - I'm losing it! I can't keep it up anymore! Like, I am fuckin' crazy girl it's -" Lacey wiped a sleeve at her nose as she talked and I tried my best not to zone out at the mention of Yoongi.

I could be a good listener.

"- And that's why I gotta move out like, today. Like, right now. You know? I dunno, I'm sure I'll be back. I've known these guys for sooo long but -" I saw my hand floating up to Lacey's shoulder before I felt it doing so.

"They're good guys that care about you. We all do. If you need to take care of yourself, that's not a bad thing. You deserve to feel proud of yourself for makin' that kinda decision." I said the words with care but there was an unspoken energy between us that disturbed its sincerity.

Lacey hesitated before speaking next.

"I don't hate you, you know that right? Just, please," the look she had given me the night they moved in echoed across her face, "Yoongi's mine. Please. Even if I'm not here.". She grabbed one of my hands as she did this, the last of the pleading look ebbing once she found my eyes.

I couldn't think of what to say. So I nodded. With as much affirmative intent as I could.

I promised to help her tell the others and promised again that I'd help her with packing before she moved out.

Jungkook shot me a confused look from the couch before we turned out of the kitchen - before anyone else could see. I lifted my shoulders in a shrug to reply, unable to translate the situation into a gesture.

Most of the guys took the news well and tried not to flood Lacey with questions. Words of support, concern and love rang out in an array of voices while Yoongi stared at the floor. Away from all the others, clearly struggling to accept Lacey's decision.

He got up at one point and with a voice urgent and strangled, asked Lacey how he could be sure she was ok if she was away from him.

"She has her hooks in deep this time." Hobi's words came back to me while the connection was made.

Oh.

I always imagined it was something physical. Maybe I took Hobi's description too literally. I didn't know how to feel about it being this. That it was because Lacey was struggling like this.

Lacey - who had not let go of my hand despite Yoongi coming over.

Who pulled me to stand by her side as he did. With an unfeasibly strong grip that contradicted her size.

The stars from Yoongi's eyes grew brighter after they darted to mine. The contact lasted less than a second but the sonic boom in my stomach and ringing in my ears can hasn't faded in years. Not even the slightest bit.

Lacey's hand tightened around mine with a strength that made it hurt and all of my focus went to checking the rest of the room.

Jimin looked bored out of his mind and Hobi looked like he was biting back an "I told you so.". Tae was sitting with his legs crossed on the edge of the couch. He had slouched over to reach the cigarette holder he had tucked between two fingers. That hand was draped over his knee while the other propped up his chin.

Namjoon and Jin were minding their business, playing games and continuing to read like nothing was going on. And JK was -

He wasn't there.

Oh. He was pacing in the kitchen.

He was livid.

I think that I had been trying not to notice that.

But once I did, I couldn't look away. Lacey and Yoongi disappeared. The iron hold on my hand morphed into a vague weight. I knew it was trapping me, but I couldn't tell what it was. Rhythmic thudding beat against my ears until it blocked out any sound - forbidding them from getting through.

Jungkook noticed after 11 paces. Making a face of "wtf" exasperation and (presumably) using the back door for a swifter exit.

He didn't slam the door.

But the gentle way it shut behind him made it just as loud.

As if a spell had been broken - I shook the ambiguous weight from my hand and all but sprinted after him.

I don't think I mentioned it before now. I knew it'd happen eventually, but it's kind of funny that we've gotten to this point of the story. I'm still finding my way to The Backyard.

Lacey was going to stay with her mom until she could go to an inpatient treatment center. Yoongi, Jin and Namjoon were going to drive back with her (and so that Yoongi wouldn't have to drive back alone - no matter how much he insisted he'd be fine).

"But wait - your show tonight. Can we leave tomorrow instead?" Lacey was asking the question when I stepped back into the house.

It hung in the air for a second before, "Oh shit, the show." was blown out in an unfamiliar frazzled voice.

"Please babe? I -" I turned into the living room the same moment I figured out who sounded so frazzled and that they figured out who was causing the footsteps.

Lacey bounced over to wrap me up in a hug and chirped, "One last blow out! We have to have fun on our last night together, right?".

"Last night together for just a little while though, right?" I parroted her question form, the real answer to her question stuck within a tangled ball of thread.

Yoongi gave me a well deserved, "what the hell" look and the words unknotted into a coherent line.

"Are you sure you're okay though?" I did my best to show that it wasn't asked to be chastising.

There was a minuscule quiver of her bottom lip and then she cleared her throat. Shaking her shoulders and walking back over to Yoongi. Her voice wavered at first, "No,-" it came back stronger to finish, "but his shows are important to him. I want him to have it and I want to support that.".

Even though her back was turned to me as she did this, her words made me smile with a relief I didn't know I had been waiting for.

"Do you wanna hang out with me tonight then? You know, um, in case you don't feel ok? Or anything like that?" I blurted out the question without thinking about any other factors.

Yoongi's "what the hell" (angry) turned into "what the hell?" (concern + surprise).

Jungkook came back inside.

Lacey agreed.

Jungkook went straight downstairs.

I remember smiling and waving. And taking steps towards the stairs towards JK's room.

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

"- Amygdala!"

"My amygdala!"

Yoongi's voice flew through the speakers and slammed me back into my body after (an undetermined amount of time) had passed. Jimin and Lacey were both holding my hands on the dance floor - which was pretty much the entire living room and kitchen. We were closest to Yoongi, the entryway and the front door. I don't think a single person there was above the influence. The company at the time and myself included.

I almost started moving to the song. Almost joined the other two as they swung our hands and sang (screamed) along with Yoongi. But there was one person above the influence that night, and we were looking right at each other. Jungkook was using all of the patience and love that he had to gently express "please" in the look he gave me. And then the front door closed. The sound of it crackling throughout my bloodstream like a bolt of electricity.

The please was following something he had told me earlier. It wasn't anything unreasonable or cruel.

But it hurt.

"You shouldn't be anywhere around me tonight. I don't want you to be- anywhere around me tonight.".

And that's how I wound up on the dance floor.

Like no-one could see me sobbing.

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salon-maiden-anabel · 11 months ago

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the more i think about your mom lucy hc, the more i really adore it. if you don't mind me asking questions about it, what's her general dynamic with kieran & carmine? is she a single mom? how does dahlia fit into the picture?

SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG TO REPLY TO MY BRAINS BEEN. TRYING . the thoughts are disconnected but by god there are thoughts everything below the readmore

But! Hi hello welcome to Oh lord this family needs therapy and counselling . ! Honestly I have been going into everything with the idea of her being a single mom w/ them! It;s very much a situation of like.... Parent that works away from home constantly, so the relationship is just unfortunately naturally more strained kinda thing .

With all this i go with like.... The idea that they were very much born in Hoenn and lived there with Lucy until Carmine was approximately 9 or so, and Kieran was 7 [I do like to imagine they're 16 and 14 respectively as of the dlcs]. Work being so remote and stuff plus worrying about their education and all just led to living with their grandparents in Kitakami being the best decision for their development as yknow, People. I like to imagine Lucy visits periodically throughout the year and such to check in :> just takes a bit of coordinating. Also shes absolutely the reason they're able to go to blueberry for highschool via both making sure they Can go there financially and putting a word in to a battle focused school of them being kids of a facility head :p even if realistically Lucy isnt the strongest head by any means lol . it's kinda like if an E4 member put a good word in situation. And we can see with Lacey and Drayton both going there... gestures. I wouldnt be surprised if more children of different league figures go to it or schools LIKE it. But thats besides the point Lucy absolutely like, struggles with her emotions and such. Even from the small bits of dialogue we have from her? Maybe its just my autistic ass reading too much into it LMAO but . gestures .

i feel like if this werent a kids game she'd just tell you to fuck off to your face here

sorry just more quick looking too much into dialogue but. cmon. CMON. ...She's . definitely influenced how carmine and kieran act at least somewhat .

Carmine might be the easiest to point a finger to as being like her mom but i genuinely think that it;s actually Kieran who ended up the most Like her, yknow it;s incredibly obvious to point a finger at Kieran during indigo disk and how he talks as being her fault a little bit :p anyways thats just me vaguely mumbling abt that. AS FOR. DYNAMICS. Kieran isnt as close to his mom as Carmine is just due to everything with living with their grandparents. Theres also absolutely like.... Very much a gap because he stopped seeing her as much when he was younger, while Carmine was only a year off of being like. Legally start being a pokemon trainer age. And its just Awkward, relation wise, just because of how little she actually sees them through the years, especially when the discussion would slowly shift to more "How are your studies?" "How are you doing in school?" "How is your pokemon training going?" once they start going to blueberry. Which i don't think was ment to come off as uncaring for them and only focusing on training as it did from Lucy's end, but I dont really think she knew what else to ask and all, because she stopped being able to really pick up on their interests as much as they got older. Plus thats just kinda How she talks... With the importance on strength and luck n all that. Then with all this I imagine she like. Probably only called once maybe twice between the dlc plots n all? And once again with just mainly the training questions it was just a sour spot. I wouldn't doubt Kieran would also struggle with not wanting to be in a shadow/the nepo baby accusations /j that I fully think if Drayton knows about he'd tease him and Carmine about. So like. All that with the instilled importance of ones strength :sob: Lucy you were not helping the Kieran situation. Hell I don't really think she would of even known about anything going down between Kitakami to Blueberry with Kieran just because neither of them wanted to tell her at all? Because again just that Awkward connection between them, just the permanent fog on all communication that feels like someone said something wrong at all times and it got too awkward to finish. IDK I think im waffling on I don't know how to formulate my thoughts the best LMFAO BUT I THINK... DYNAMICS WOULD CHANGE POST-MOCHI MAYHEM ESP. Bc i KNOW she'd find out after carmine and kieran nearly fucking DIE in the underdepths and everything hits her in the back of her head at once that she needs to repair what she can w/ them because she almost lost them. Probably means taking an extended leave from working at the Pike so she doesn't have to worry about scheduling to see them in person for only a short period of time. Especially if the times line up for them having any extended break from school . It's never going to be perfect, far from it, with their dynamics and all but. gestures. Briar needs to sleep with one eye open for a bit at least. in short

AS FOR. DAHLIA im in turbo hell because I can not see? the siblings ending up like they did if she was also around? Shes such a force of positivity as a person im just. blinks a bit. Im in hell bc i adore the ship as my big rarepair ill die on a hill for but nobody expected the kitakami siblings especially not me so . i think if they ever do get together it'd be somewhere nearer to scarvio era which just. yeah. see image below

#talk tag #asks #juniverse tag #sorry this is like all over the place i can Not keep my thoughts in one solid piece #Azami 'Lucy' Orochi #Kieran Orochi #Carmine Orochi

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karamoonilia · 5 months ago

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\○\ Blog Description Post /●/

Hi Guys I'm Kara,

You can call me;

Kara (Best call me Kara), Kara M. ( The letter M stands for Moonilia ) LP ( It means Leonardo Picasso. That's how my friends describe me in class. :D ) LaFo ( The Lazy Fox [ I'am not Furry ] )

I don't support LGBTQ+. This is a bit of a complicated topic but let me explain: I am not an LGBTQ+ person but when it comes to LGBTQ+ characters in games I like like Undertale and Deltarune, if I have a headcanon or something similar about them, I unintentionally seem to support LGBTQ+ when describing their orientation. And I may occasionally make LGBTQ+ jokes. But I still have respect for LGBTQ+. (If you are uncomfortable with this text, it will be deleted or shortened.

↓ Below İs İmportant ↓

During school time, Question Blogs and Original Blog, namely this Blog, will be closed. During the Mid-Term Break, only the Original Blog will be open for a limited time and both Question and Original Blog will be open only during the summer break.

↑ Above İs İmportant ↑

I don't reblog in this blog unless it's something I really care about or is about me.

Please feel free to comment on posts. I love chatting.

Fandoms/Somethings On The İnternet I'm in / I know about :

Gravity Falls, Undertale, Deltarune, Creepypasta, Harry Potter, Marvel, BATİM, Cuphead, Owl House, Amphibia, Kindergarden, Baldi's Basic's, Minecraft, Fundemental Paper Education, Vocaloids (?), Ghost and Pals, RIProducer, Vane Lily, CrusherP, The Living Tombstone, SCP, SAbluestory, This İs Not My Neighbor, The Walten Files, Disney/Pixar Movies, Glitchtale, Lords Of Rings, Rings Of Power, Bo Burnham, Hellaverse ( Helluva Boss & Hazbin Hotel), Lacey Games, Detroit Become:Human, Jack Stauber -

I'll write more when I remember. I'am so Multifandom hehe.

Undertale AU (Monoctale) Ask Blog Here

My Persona :

If you see ↑ this guy ↑ in any post. Please leave any comments on that post.

Also, please ask or request, I will be happy to respond because it is my favorite type of post.

I also doesn't often draw trends

Also, I don't usually draw trends, I'm lazy

My OCs:

First OC showed up in here; Nathaniel Reginald Voss

"Ask Natt" all posts:

1. How's your day going?

2. Hm?

3. 24/7 Coffee

4. Comedy Company

5. Play?

6. Nervous Hug!

7. Some Sweets.

8. Relatives..?

9. Dude, u have Touchhobia :D ?

-To be continued-

What is your Undertale AU about?

- I just made some changes to the concept and story. Monoctale or Undermonoc; as the name suggests, is an AU where each character has a monochrome version of themselves, meaning a single color (black-white-shades of gray). Each character's monochrome version reflects differently in reality; a psychological distress experienced by the character can create their monochrome version, or a rare power deep within their souls can cause them to exist semi-physically, for example.

For example, the formation of the monochrome versions of some characters: Asgore: Asgore is a character with Multiple Personality Disorder in this AU. The way we separate him from the monochrome version is; We divide his name into two as "As-" and "-Gore". "As" is Asgore himself, the first and only personality that should exist in the body. "Gore" is Asgore's monochrome, aka his much more cruel version. Thanks to "Gore", Asgore was able to dare to take the lives of those little children. Making the barrier like this was actually "Gore"'s idea and "As" couldn't stop him and allowed him to carry out this cruel plan. At least the same thing didn't happen with Frisk. While "Gore" had killed other humans brutally, when Asgore was going to fight Frisk, "As" was in control and since he wanted Frisk to win, he fought in a way that Frisk could defeat him without using his real power, just like in the game.

Do you also have a Gravity Falls AU?

- Yes, but it was cancelled after Book Of Bill came out.

I got tired here, I'll add more as things come to mind.

#blog description #my persona #my art #drawing #digital art #artwork #art #undertale #undertale au #ask blog #important #multi fandom blog #multifandom #artists on tumblr

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kelyon · 11 months ago

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Courtship 3: First Date--His Place

After dinner, Gold takes Lacey back to his house.

Read on AO3

Mr. Gold’s house was a salmon-pink mansion in the good part of Old Town. This was a popular neighborhood for flower deliveries, so Lacey had at least been in the door of most of these places. But she had never been inside Mr. Gold’s house before. She didn’t know anyone who had.

He unlocked the door and held it open for her. Lacey tried not to gape at the size of the place, the obvious quality and care. The front hallway was paneled in wood--not fake wood paneling, but wood--polished and clean. No chipped paint or decades’ worth of smudged fingerprints anywhere.

Most of the house was dark. Lacey couldn’t see up the stairs or down the hallway. The only light was a mini-chandelier, with ropes of crystals that sparkled like the sequins on her dress. The darkness outside was so complete she could see her reflection in the panes of glass on each of the double doors.

“This is lovely,” she smiled at Mr. Gold.

“Thank you.”

He locked the front door behind them, then shrugged off his coat and hung it onto one of a row of empty hooks on the wall. When that was done, he went over to a door on the other side of the entryway. It was a closed door, made of shiny wood so dark it was almost black. He stood in front of it, with his cane in front of him, like he was guarding whatever was in the room behind him.

“Miss French,” he began, “you don’t have to be here.”

Lacey raised her eyebrows. “Well that’s a great start to a hookup.”

“I’m quite serious,” Mr. Gold went on. “I want you to understand that I am not compelling you to do anything. We’ve already discussed that what goes on between us will have no bearing on your father’s situation with the rent. If you leave now, or if you want to stop at any point in future, it will not affect my opinion of you. If you’re ever in need of my assistance, you’ll be able to come to me and I will treat you like anyone else.”

Lacey pressed her lips together. She didn’t want him to treat her like anyone else.

“At any point,” he was still talking, “you can ask to go home and I will drive you back. It is of utmost importance that you understand this: You are acting of your own volition, without coercion or threat.”

She looked at him, hands on her hips. She ran her tongue over the back of her teeth while she thought.

“You sound like you’re gonna try things I shouldn’t let you get away with.”

He came towards her. “I have tastes,” he said simply. “I have desires. I have things I want from a lover that many people--quite reasonably--balk at.” He was close enough now to whisper in her ear. “And I have an inkling about you, Miss French. I think it’s possible that you have desires of your own, desires you wouldn’t dare ask another person to indulge in.”

Her face went hot. She didn’t say anything.

Now he spoke more evenly, but still low and seductive. “At the restaurant, you asked me why I chose you. Let me tell you now: I chose you because it’s possible our desires might align. You might want to receive what I so dearly wish to give.”

He stepped away. He hadn’t touched her but he had been so close that having him gone threw her off balance, at least mentally. He stood in front of the door again.

“I’d like to be right about you, Miss French, but I need you to tell me if I’m wrong. Before you get hurt.”

Lacey blinked. She took a breath, got her bearings. “Are you planning on hurting me?”

“I’m planning to give you every pleasure you can think of and a few more I’m sure you can’t. If you follow the rules.”

Oh. So this was another game. Straightening up, Lacey looked him in the eye. “What are the rules this time?”

There was that glint in his dark brown eyes. That gleam she had come to realize meant he was happy with her, or proud of her. She had done something right.

“This is my study.” Mr Gold tapped his knuckle against the wooden door behind him. “For tonight, this room is our field of play. When you come into this room, you will obey me. Without hesitation, and without question. Do you understand?”

The hairs on the back of Lacey’s neck stood up. The house was warm, but a chill went through her.

“What will you tell me to do?”

“Nothing you won’t like,” he promised. “Any time you don’t want to obey, you just have to walk out this door. The game will be over.”

Lacey crossed her arms over her chest and tried to ignore how good the scratchy fabric felt against her bare breasts.

“So are you gonna make me call you ‘Master’ or something?”

“No,” he chuckled at the suggestion. “No, I’m Mr. Gold. That’s quite enough for one lifetime.”

So at least she wouldn’t have to fawn over him like he was God. She just had to do what he said. Everything he said.

“Is this another game I can win?”

He shrugged. “That’s up to you, isn’t it?”

“I meant, would there be another prize?” Technically, the very fact of her being here was her reward for winning the game at the restaurant.

“I’ll find ways to make it worth your while, Miss French. To my way of thinking, the greatest prize for winning will be the chance to play again.”

He wanted her. Somehow, the thought hadn’t occurred to her until now. It had been so obvious. Of course Mr. Gold wanted to screw Lacey French. She was young and hot and he was old and lonely. But there were a lot of girls in Storybrooke who were young and hot and Mr. Gold chose her. Mr. Gold wanted her. He saw something in her that he didn’t see in other girls. He wanted things--unmentionable but specific things--and he thought he could only get them from Miss French.

He wanted this to work. He wanted her to want him. He wanted her to want to play his games. The fact that she did only made the revelation that much sweeter.

“Okay,” Lacey moved toward the study. “Let’s play.”

He held up his hand to stop her. “You should take a moment to collect your thoughts. Make sure this is really what you want, Miss French. Then, before you come into the study, take off your stockings and your underthings. Leave them out here. Put your shoes back on, and come join me. Or tell me that you want to leave.”

“I don’t want to leave.”

She spoke softly, but it was the boldest declaration she had ever made in her life.

Mr. Gold gave her a small smile--an actual smile, the first she’d seen from him. Then he made a nod that was almost a bow. He went into the study and left the door open behind him.

****

Alone in the entryway, Lacey let out a long breath. Mr. Gold had told her to collect her thoughts but all she could think about was how horny she was, how alive she felt. All she could think about was what Mr. Gold had planned for her. Exactly how unconventional were his tastes? Would she walk into the study and discover him putting on clown makeup and wielding a meat cleaver? What did he want? What did he want from her?

She wasn’t going to find out in the hallway.

Lacey backed away from the glass-fronted doors into the dark interior of the house. Then she pulled up her skirt and rolled down her panties and her stockings all in one go. Good thing she had shaved her legs after all. She stepped back into her sensible black pumps and crossed the threshold into Mr. Gold’s study.

He was lighting a fire in the antique fireplace when she walked in. He was fully dressed and not in clown makeup, which was a good sign. When he saw her, he tossed the long match into the catching flames.

“That was quick,” he remarked.

“I know what I want.”

He came toward her, until they were standing close enough to kiss. With the hand that wasn’t holding his cane, Mr. Gold cupped her cheek. It was the first time they had touched anything more than their hands.

“And what is that?”

The word you lay on the tip of her tongue. I want to know you. I want to know what you want and I want to give it to you.

Of course she couldn’t say that out loud. Sentiment was a little treacly for Mr. Gold’s taste. He liked bitter, not sweet.

“I want adventure,” Lacey said instead. It was mostly true. “I want something I can’t get from any other man in this town--something I can’t imagine most of them would even be able to understand.” She pushed herself toward him, pressing her body against his. She put her hand on his chest. “I want more, Mr. Gold. I want much more than this… life.”

He took a step back, then another. With his body gone, her hand hung in the air. He gave her one of his long, appraising looks.

“The first rule,” he said softly, “is that you don’t touch me. I will touch you, and I may give you explicit instructions on where I want your hands or your body, but I will not have you pawing at me like a pickpocket.”

Lacey’s cheeks burned. From embarrassment this time, not anything fun. “Oh.” She lowered her hand. “God, I’m sorry. I didn’t meant to--”

“That’s why I’m telling you. I don’t want you making that mistake again.”

She swallowed down her guilt and nodded her understanding. She kept her eyes downcast. She really was sorry to have made him uncomfortable.

“I spoke to you, Miss French.” He came close again.

She looked up at him. “Yes, you did. And…?”

“And when I speak to someone, I expect the courtesy of an answer.”

“Oh,” Lacey said again.

He shook his head. “That won’t do at all, dearie. Say, ‘I’m sorry, Mr. Gold.’”

A flash of anger went up her spine. Who the hell was he to nitpick her behavior? Sure, they were playing his game, but that didn’t give him the right to patronize her!

Boldly, she matched his stare. “I’m sorry, Mr. Gold.” The sentence was hot in her mouth as she spat it out. But the words were right. She was following the rules. “I apologize Mr. Gold. Forgive me, Mr. Gold.”

Now he grinned. “Three times is a nice touch, but remember to say please when you want something from me.”

Lacey managed to conceal her eye roll with a long blink. “Yes, Mr. Gold.”

He put his hand on her waist and pressed his body against hers. She couldn’t tell if it was a reward or a tease, the closeness she was allowed to have, but only on his terms. The warmth of him steadied her. It dampened down the sparks of her aggravation.

She felt his breath on her ear as he whispered, “Good girl.”

He slid away from her and once again Lacey was left feeling dizzy and off-balance, like she had just gotten off a Tilt-a-Whirl.

“Do you know how to pour whisky, Miss French?”

Lacey blinked a few times to clear her head. She looked around. He was in the far corner of the study now. A section of the bookshelf folded out to reveal a little compartment with bottles inside.

“Uh, is it different from pouring any other liquid?”

Mr. Gold nodded his head toward the bar. “Come here,” he ordered casually.

Lacey hurried to obey. She darted around a large couch with her arms out slightly in front of her, like she was being pulled by something on her wrists.

That was weird. Why had she done that? Lacey shook her head to clear it. When she got to Mr. Gold, she put her arms down by her sides.

“Pay attention,” Mr. Gold ordered. “I want you to be good at this.”

“Yes, Mr. Gold.”

He positioned her in front of the bar, standing behind her. Reaching over her, he placed a finger on the lid of one of the bottles.

“Johnnie Walker Blue Label,” he explained. “Blended Scotch whisky, two hundred dollars a bottle. It’s good enough for everyday use.”

Two hundred dollars for a bottle of booze? A bottle of good enough booze?

Before she could marvel any further at how the other half lived, Mr. Gold took Lacey’s hand and placed it on the sky-blue bottle. With him guiding her, she took the bottle by the neck and pulled it out of the row.

“You may unscrew the lid.” He murmured it into her hair like it was a sweet nothing.

Lacey watched to make sure her hands weren’t shaking as she did what he said. Mr. Gold helped her pick up a short glass and set it on the bar. Her hand covered the glass and his hand covered hers.

“Pour until it’s the height of two fingers.” He had his other hand over hers on the bottle. “Or three, in your case.”

She stopped before he could tell her to, when the brown liquid reached the top of her middle finger. She pushed away from him, just a little. Just enough that she could pick up the glass and spin around to face him.

“Like this, Mr. Gold?”

The lines in his mouth deepened. “Stay here,” he ordered. “Count to ten--slowly, out loud--then come and serve me.”

“Yes, Mr. Gold.”

She watched him walk over to a stuffed leather armchair by the fireplace. Before he sat down, he took a pillow from the couch and set it on the floor next to his chair. As she counted, Lacey looked at him, at the power he radiated. The chair he sat in wasn’t a throne. Mr. Gold wasn’t a king. He was something bigger than that. Something dark and eternal. Just what, she wasn’t sure. It was a mystery to be uncovered.

When she was done counting to ten, Lacey went over to Mr. Gold with the glass in her hand. Some instinct made her bend at the waist when she offered him the drink. It paid off when Mr. Gold’s eyes swept down the line of her spine and lingered on her ass. Was he thinking about his order to take off her underwear?

“Well done,” he said as he took the glass.

Lacey made a pointed look at the pillow by Mr. Gold’s feet. “What next?”

“Next,” Mr. Gold sat back in his chair. He swirled his whiskey in the glass and took a drink. “Next you will go to the top drawer of my desk, on the right-hand side. Open it, and bring the contents to me.”

“Yes, Mr. Gold.” Obediently, Lacey crossed the room.

The desk was a thing of beauty, rich dark wood and a leather writing top. It was large enough and sturdy enough that it could function as a bomb shelter if Storybrooke was ever under aerial attack. Lacey French had become valedictorian while doing homework at her kitchen table. If she’d had a desk like this, she would be a Rhodes scholar by now.

In the top drawer on the right-hand side, Lacey found a strip of foil-wrapped condoms, a box of rubber gloves like at a doctor’s office, and white tube with the label facing up to read: ANAL LUBRICANT.

She blinked.

For a long minute, she just stared at the objects in front of her. The things Mr. Gold wanted to have close at hand. Then Lacey took a deep breath, and slowly exhaled. In one motion, she scooped the supplies into her arms and walked back to Mr. Gold.

The condoms and the gloves went on the table beside him, next to his drink. The lube he placed in an inside pocket on his suit jacket, close to his heart.

He gestured to the pillow on the ground. “Would you like to kneel at my feet, Miss French?”

At that moment, Lacey didn’t know what she’d like. She had some ideas, or thought she did. Her formative years had been shaped by age-inappropriate romance novels. But it was one thing to fantasize about things--to imagine them and even want them. It was something else entirely to drag a secret desire out into the cold light of reality.

Mr. Gold was leaning forward, staring at her. He was waiting for her to answer, to obey, to keep playing their game. The game that had suddenly become too real for her.

“Can I ask you a question?”

He tilted his head. “You may.”

Lacey breathed. There was no other way to say it than to say it.

“Anal?”

Mr. Gold smirked. He sat back, comfortable again with how things were going. “You’ve never done it before?”

“No,” Lacey almost laughed. “It’s supposed to be gross, right? Or complicated, or dangerous?”

“What good thing in life doesn’t have an element of complexity or danger?”

“But don’t I need to, like, do an enema or something first?”

“That’s what these are for,” he gestured to the condoms and gloves. “It’s my understanding that being overzealous with cleaning actually increases the risk.”

“Really?” Lacey had never done research on the subject, and the few romance novels that featured anal were annoyingly vague on the details. Apparently Mr. Gold did this enough to develop a preference for it, so he was now the leading authority.

“If you want to be clinical, Miss French, an enema will dry out the anal passage and leave you vulnerable to microtears, which can lead to infection.”

“I’m sorry, I stopped listening after I heard the word tear.”

“Micro,” Mr. Gold emphasized. “As in microscopic.” He patted his jacket where he’d just put the bottle of lube. “That’s what this is for, to make everything… smoother.”

Lacey dug her nails into her palms. The sharp, stinging pain eased her nerves.

“Why did you put it in your jacket?”

“To make it warm for you.” He took a drink, then set down his glass. “Anything else?”

“You’ve done this before.” It wasn’t a question. “A lot?”

“Yes.”

“With who?”

“A gentleman never tells,” he smirked. “Suffice it to say it was long ago and far away. You’re in no danger of running into any jealous exes.”

Lacey let out a breath of a chuckle. Learning more about what was going to happen had helped. Talking to Mr. Gold, listening to his unshakable self-assurance, had helped.

She smoothed her skirt.

“Do you still want me to kneel, Mr. Gold?”

He picked up his drink. “Very much.”

Nodding, she went to the place beside him and got down on her knees. She sat up straight in a perfect L, the way people did in Catholic church.

“You can relax,” Mr. Gold said softly. “You’re going to be down there for a while, Miss French.”

His arm draped over the chair to hold her by the back of the neck. Gently, but with firm pressure, he pushed her down. She was still kneeling, but sitting on her legs. Now Lacey felt like she was in a karate class.

“There,” he said. “Isn’t that better?”

There was only one answer Miss French could give: “Yes, Mr. Gold.”

****

For at least fifteen minutes, Mr. Gold sat, and sipped his whiskey, and touched her. He tried to play with her hair, but quickly realized it was an unmanageable rat’s nest full of bobby pins. After that, he kept to her neck, her ears, her cheeks. He played with her idly, as if she was a pet, or some kind of ornament with an interesting texture. Just a thing for him to fidget with while he was thinking.

His fingers were soft. Mostly they grazed over her, practically teasing. Sometimes they pressed in. Sometimes he rubbed her with several fingers at once. He made his way down her back like that, massaging the spaces her dress left bare. Whenever she reacted with a sigh or a muffled moan, he touched her more.

It was a quiet time, with nothing but murmurs between them. They watched the fire, listened to the crackles and pops of the burning logs. Lacey felt her pulse slow. Her thoughts wound down into almost nothing. Mr. Gold’s touch, his presence, could thrill her, yes, but right now it calmed her. It helped her be ready for what she knew was coming.

“Have your legs gone numb?” he asked her after a while.

When was the last time Lacey had felt her toes? “I think they are, yes.”

“Good.”

Pushing himself up with his cane, Mr. Gold got out of his chair. Then he bent down over Lacey, wrapped one arm around her chest, and with surprising strength, lifted her to her feet. She couldn’t stand under her own power, but he walked her to the couch and let her fall over the arm. Lacey braced against the cushion, holding herself up on her elbows.

“Stay there,” he rasped.

It sounded like he was out of breath. Had hefting her around worn him out? Or did it excite him to see her like this? If there was ever a position for a girl to get fucked in the ass, Lacey was in it.

She breathed. It was going to happen. She looked down at her hands. They looked so pale and small against the wide expanse of tufted burgundy leather. Before the date started, she had managed to wash away all the potting soil from work, but she should have painted her nails as well. Maybe tomorrow she’d stop by the drug store and splurge on burgundy nail polish.

While she was thinking inane nonsense, Mr. Gold was running his hands up and down her thighs.

“So soft,” he murmured. “So lovely.”

“That’s the miracle of exfoliating,” Lacey quipped.

As soon as she spoke, his hands stopped. “No, it’s the miracle of youth, Miss French. Enjoy it while it lasts. Can you stand now?”

Experimentally, she pushed herself up off the couch and put her weight on her feet. “Looks like it,” she said.

“Good.”

As she stood, he pressed against her again, his front to her back. His breath was hot and delicious against her neck. Carefully, slowly, he put one hand on the front of her thigh, just below the very short hemline of her dress.

“You know what I want,” he whispered. “The fact that you’re still here means you’re willing to give it to me. Is that correct, Miss French?”

“Yes,” Lacey breathed. “Yes, Mr. Gold.”

Still with the same deliberate slowness, he dragged his hand over her thigh and under her skirt. He rested a minute on her hip bone, right over what would be her pantyline, if she was wearing panties.

For a moment, they breathed together. Lacey had the thought that this moment for him was what entering the study had been for her: Crossing a threshold.

He slid his hand down, over her pubic hair, and into her pussy.

She hadn’t realized how wet she was until she felt his fingers dip into liquid heat.

“Fuck,” Mr. Gold hissed.

Lacey’s teeth chattered, but she grinned. “You sound surprised.”

“Pleasantly,” he assured her. His fingers began to move. “Delighted, actually.” He rubbed his face against her neck. His stubble prickled her skin.

She moaned.

“Are you always so easily aroused, Miss French? Do other men slide into you so effortlessly?”

He had found her clit shockingly fast, but he didn’t press against it too hard or for too long. He seemed to know without being told how she liked to be touched, how she touched herself. He pressed two fingers into her core for just a moment, dipping down and pulling up more wetness to slather over her lips and folds. His hand was quick and constant and everywhere.

“I asked you a question, Miss French.”

“No,” she answered breathlessly. “There’s only been one and he didn’t care much about me. I had to--oh!--take care of myself most of the time.”

“Well, there will be no more of that,” he muttered, still working furiously. “A woman’s pleasure is a prize, Miss French. It should be worked for, and savored.”

It was hard to think of an answer right now. It was hard to think of anything besides the swell of feeling he was pulling up out of her. No, Hunter had never touched her like this. She had barely ever touched herself like this, or found herself as wet as Mr. Gold made her.

She felt something building, felt herself rising and arcing, ready to reach the peak. She was going to--she was--

Abruptly, Mr. Gold’s fingers stopped. He kept his hand on her mound, holding it, but not doing anything.

“What?” Lacey turned around as best she could to look at him. “Why did you stop? I was almost there!”

A slow smile spread across his face. “I know,” he said. “You’re not subtle with your orgasms, Miss French.”

“I--should I be? Is that a thing you want?”

“Not particularly.” He squeezed her cunt and Lacey shuddered. “No, it’s to my advantage that you’re so… demonstrative.”

Groaning, Lacey fell forward over the arm of the couch. “You’re just fucking with me, aren’t you?”

“No, Miss French, I’m fucking you. I have every intention of letting you come.” With his other hand, he pulled her back up, pressed her against his body. He growled into her ear. “You’re going to ruin my jacket sleeve with your sopping wet cunt.” He let her go. “But only when I allow it. Do you understand?”

Breath shaking, Lacey tried to pull herself together. It was harder than it had been before. Blood pounded in her ears, the pulse of pleasure denied, the throbbing need she knew Mr. Gold could feel against his hand. She managed one breath, and then another.

“This is called edging, isn’t it?”

“It’s called obedience, Miss French. It’s called doing only what I want you to and only when I tell you to do it. It’s called being a good girl.”

Lacey clenched, she shuddered. She was going to come whether he wanted her to or not. She didn’t have a choice. Her body was just doing this.

“Fight it,” he snarled. “It’s a skill like any other. You can just stop.”

It was like falling. Like thinking there was one more stair and then you stepped up onto nothing and landed hard. Like waiting for a sneeze and not having one. Like trying to force yourself not to have hiccups. It was a weird holding sensation, as Lacey staved off her natural reaction.

Somehow, she managed it. The feeling passed through her. She was able to calm down, control herself. Just like he wanted.

“Perfect,” Mr. Gold whispered. “I knew you could do it.’

Her teeth chattered. Lacey felt strangely wrung-out. Overwhelmed. Her mind and her body had somehow disconnected, and there was only the slightest tether between them.

“Thank you,” she breathed. “Thank you, Mr. Gold.”

****

Two more times he brought her to the edge and made her pull herself back. Each time it was harder and when he finally allowed her to come she was barely aware it was happening. Her body took over entirely, thrashing and screaming, grinding against him. Her mouth begged for more--Lacey heard herself say the words--but it was removed from her mental reality. It might as well be happening to a character in a book.

Mr. Gold permitted her as many orgasms as she could take, then gave her one more when she thought she was done. By the end of it, she was slumped over the arm of the couch. Utterly boneless, utterly spent. Her mind was quiet. Her body was exhausted. In that moment, nothing mattered. In that moment, she floated on a cloud of perfect safety and peace.

When he decided she was done, Mr. Gold gave her a satisfied pat on her hip. At some point, her skirt had gotten rucked up to her waist. Her naked ass was up in the air, the perfect position for him to do whatever he wanted.

Through bleary eyes, Lacey watched Mr. Gold walk back over to his chair, to the little end table where he had set the condoms and rubber gloves. He put on only one of the gloves, and flexed his fingers with a satisfied smirk. Then he tore one of the condoms off the strip and walked back over to Lacey. He slipped the foil square between two of her limp fingers.

Putting his weight on his cane, Mr. Gold crouched down so he was on her level. Lightly, he brushed her hair away from her face. “You’re going to hold onto that for me until I need it. Do you understand?”

Blinking slowly, Lacey nodded.

He tilted her chin up, so she looked him in the eye. “That’s not what you say, is it Miss French? Is that how you communicate with me?”

He was gentle, almost teasing, but she knew he was serious about what he wanted.

“No, Mr. Gold,” Lacey murmured. Complete satisfaction had brought her to a place of complete compliance. “I’m sorry, Mr. Gold.”

“That’s the way.” He stroked her hair as a reward, with the hand wearing the glove. She could smell her pussy through the rubber. “Do you understand what I want from you?”

She squeezed the condom between her knuckles. “Yes, Mr. Gold.”

He gave her a fond grin. “Good girl.”

****

He stood behind her and opened her legs. He played with her pussy for a moment. The sudden pleasure jolted her out of her stupor. He spread her wetness back towards her ass.

“Barely even need lubricant,” he muttered. “With a cunt so wet, so sloppy.”

He punctuated the word by jabbing his fingers hard into her cunt. Lacey let out a keening moan--it wasn’t painful, just intense--and he soothed her with gentle rubs.

“But that’s the way I want you, Miss French. You’re a mess of desire, absolutely filthy. You don’t mind getting dirty, do you dearie? No. No, I think you like it.”

His thumb was circling her asshole now, while his other fingers played with her cunt. He paused, briefly, and Lacey heard the snap of the lid opening on the tube of anal lube. A spurting sound, then a new substance on her body.

The lube wasn’t cold, but it wasn’t as hot as her own juices. Lacey shivered at the feeling--at all the feelings--all the sensations and reactions Mr. Gold had drawn out of her.

“I do,” she whimpered as he rubbed the lube around her asshole, as his thumb made short, exploratory ventures within. “I do like it, Mr. Gold. God, I fucking love this.”

Behind her, he chuckled. His free hand rested over her ass, spreading her apart ever so slightly.

“You’re taking it well,” he murmured.

Slowly, he eased the whole of his thumb inside her. Lacey closed her eyes and focused on the feeling, the invasion, the unusual fullness. Mr. Gold didn’t move his hand. He seemed to be listening, seemed to be as attuned to her reaction as she was.

“Well?” he breathed.

Lacey tried to think, but he had already fucked all the words out of her. “It’s… weird…”

“Unpleasant?”

“No. I mean--no, Mr. Gold.”

He squeezed the soft flesh of her ass and she knew that was her reward for speaking to him correctly. Then he began to move his thumb. At first he only rotated his wrist, so his whole hand moved in a slow circle. Then he began to spread outward, making the circle wider. Making her asshole wider. He slid out partially, then eased his way back in. All the while, Lacey lay draped over the couch, vaguely aware of the distant pleasure, but mostly overwhelmed. Mr. Gold hadn’t even gotten his cock out and she had already been well and truly fucked.

He added more lube, then started with his fingers. One at a time, he used the same patient experimentation as with his thumb. He explored her, filled her, fucked her.

“I’m going to start with two now,” he told her. “I’m going to open you up, and then I’m going to need that condom.”

Through her blissed-out haze, Lacey nodded. Then she corrected herself. “Yes, Mr. Gold.”

Again, he squeezed her. “Good girl.”

Two fingers was odd, especially once he started moving them. Odd was the only way she could think of it. It didn’t hurt, and it didn’t really drive her wild, at least not as much as his fingers in her cunt had. Lacey got the impression that this act wasn’t for her. Mr. Gold was just preparing her so she’d be alright with him doing what he wanted.

That was fine. God knew he had already given her plenty. Mr. Gold might as well take something for himself. And in Lacey’s current state, she wouldn’t have been able to do much for him anyway. Better for him to do the work, better for her to just take it.

He plucked the condom from her fingers. She heard the sound of a zipper, of foil being ripped open. She heard a slight hitch in his breath. Then his hands were on her again. He spread her open and glided into her ass.

Mr. Gold gasped. His clean hand gripped onto Lacey’s hip so hard it was sure to leave bruises.

“Fuck.” He choked back the word through gritted teeth.

With one arm, he roughly pulled her up and turned her neck to look at him. His cock was still inside her, but there was no pain or even discomfort. He felt amazing.

“You’re sure you’ve never done this before?”

Lacey tried to hold herself up on the couch. “Not that I remember.”

“Fuck,” he whispered. “Fuck, you’re just a natural slut then, aren’t you? You just walk around in your day to day life with an arse that’s begging for my cock?”

He thrust his hips into her for emphasis. Lacey moved with him, realizing for the first time how tightly their bodies were joined. Become one was a romance novel phrase for fucking, but she felt the truth of it now. In that moment, Mr. Gold was a part of her, and she was a part of him. They were one thing, one animal, united in a singular drive.

It felt so right. It felt so good to be with him. So natural, so perfect. She was his and he was hers. They should never be separated again.

He must have felt the same thing. With his clean hand, Mr. Gold turned Lacey’s head to look at him. He stared at her for a moment. His eyes washed over her face, searching for some answer. He must have found it, because he pulled her even closer, and kissed her.

She kissed him back, wet and sloppy like her cunt. It was an awkward angle with him inside her, but neither of them stopped. His hand moved over her body, over her dress. He squeezed her breast through the fabric and she trembled.

Their mouths broke apart, but they were still one being below the waist. For a moment, Mr. Gold stared at her again. His mouth was loose and slack from the kiss. He looked softer than she had ever seen him before, softer than she could ever imagine him being. He looked open and tender. He looked like he could love her.

He was beautiful.

One second later, his features sharpened again. His mouth hardened into a smirk. He bent her down over the couch. His cock pulled out about halfway and then rammed into her.

“Rest assured, dearie: You’re going to remember this.”

****

He took her hard, banging her into the couch with such force that the furniture shuddered forward with his thrusts. Lacey cradled her head in her crossed arms and let herself go loose. He made noises, animal grunts and muttered swear words. Her moaning was so constant it was almost a drone, a single music note that rang out over and over.

How could something so brutal feel so good? Mr. Gold fucked her like a beast, unyielding, unending, and she knew she had been made for him. To be thing he fucked, that was the only purpose she had. Through her haze of bliss, she understood it with perfect clarity. She accepted the fact. She loved it. This was where she belonged. This was all she wanted to do, to be, for the rest of her life. Lacey French was gone, even Miss French had faded away. She was something else entirely now. She was sex itself. She would take anything he doled out to her. She would take it gladly and beg for more. She really was a perfect slut.

His perfect slut.

His thrusts became faster and stronger. A snarling stream of exclamations poured out from his mouth and over her body. Abruptly, he grabbed her. His arm pulled her up to stand while his cock kept pushing her down into the couch.

“Ohh,” she sighed. It was all she could do.

His mouth was on her. On her cheek, on her neck. He kissed her with possessive bites, marking her. Claiming her body as his.

He worked on one spot, just at the nape of her neck. He sucked and gnawed at her flesh until the pain he was giving her outpaced the pleasure. Her moans became high-pitched and pleading, but she didn’t want him to stop. She never wanted him to stop.

Her pain was enough to send him over the edge. His thrusts became erratic, jerking and sliding, deeper and deeper, until he gave one final push.

When it was over, he let out a heavy sigh against her shoulder. For the first time, she noticed he was trembling, just like she was. Panting, he leaned against her. He rested his head on her neck, pressing his lips to the place he had marked. He wrapped both arms around her waist.

He held her.

Lacey kept shaking, shook more than she had while he was fucking her. Those movements had been all his, there had been no need for her to add to them. Now that he was still, Lacey’s body shuddered. Her hips thrust forward against the couch, her ass ground against him, even while his cock was softening inside her.

Mr. Gold chuckled in her ear. “Again?” he murmured. “Don’t you have an off switch?”

“I wish I did,” Lacey said as she clenched and convulsed.

Finally, the wave crested through her again. She came with a grunt, her hands clawing at the leather cushion. Then she slumped forward, exhausted. Her body still twitched and throbbed, but those were aftershocks. She was done.

Mr. Gold rubbed one hand over her back and down to her ass. He patted her like she was a friendly dog, like she had done hard work and done it well. Like she was a good girl.

“I’m going to pull out now, Miss French.”

She made a vaguely affirmative noise and he didn’t chide her for not being correct. The heat of his body left her and she felt the familiar sensation of something vacating her asshole.

“Oh shit!” She lifted her upper half off the couch. “Did I--”

“No,” Mr. Gold answered before she could finish the question. “It just feels like it because you’ve never had anything else come out of there. At least, I assume. You took my cock with such ease, one might accuse you of feigning your innocence.”

Lacey groaned and crawled forward on the couch so her legs were on the cushion with the rest of her. She lay on her stomach, her bare ass slowly getting cold.

“I never said I was innocent, Mr. Gold.” She rubbed her face. “Fuck, I’m sure not innocent after tonight.”

He was over by a trash can. The hand wearing a glove held the full condom. He hooked the thumb of his other hand under the edge of the rubber so when he pulled the glove off, it went inside out. The condom went with it, so now everything dirty was in a neat little latex package for him to throw away.

He tucked in his shirt and zipped up his pants, but he had never even taken off his jacket. Five minutes after coming in a girl’s ass, Mr. Gold looked like he had spent the evening quietly reviewing the details of contract law. He knew it too. There was a swagger in his step as he came back to her. He was every inch the cocky bastard.

“Innocence is overrated, though there can be some pleasure in destroying it. Can you stand, Miss French?”

She could, but it was a multi-step process. She hauled her legs down to the ground--God, she was still wearing her shoes--and forced herself to sit up on the couch. Groaning, she got to her feet. Her legs were a little wobbly, but she was able to stand up straight.

“Very good.”

Mr. Gold put his hand on her waist, just above her ass. He walked her out of the study to a bathroom in the hall.

“Clean yourself up,” he instructed gently. “Feel free to use the washcloths. Come out here when you’re done.”

She obeyed him groggily, moving like she was underwater. The lube felt so slick and unnatural as she tried to wipe it away with toilet paper. Anal sex wasn’t that gross, but the aftermath sure was. She washed her hands and soaked one of the washcloths in hot water to put on her face. It was soft and new and good-smelling. Lacey breathed in the steam, the scent of lavender. Lavender was one of the few flowers she could actually stand the smell of.

She sighed.

She looked in the mirror. Her face was flushed from the heat, her cheeks and forehead splotchy. If she pulled the collar of her dress over to one side, she could see the hickey Mr. Gold had left on her. The shape of his lips seared darkness onto her skin. She hoped it would last a while. It was her only memento of a very momentous night.

Her hair looked about the same as when she’d left home. There was some advantage to being so messy. Wild hair easily hid the wild things Lacey got up to.

When she got out of the bathroom, Mr. Gold was waiting for her. He offered her a glass bottle of sparkling water. She took it, and drank.

“Thanks--uh, I mean, thank you, Mr. Gold.”

They had left the study, but were they still playing? Would he want her to keep up the formality? He didn’t correct her. His pleased expression only deepened.

He put his hand on her bare back and gestured with his cane to a wad of cloth on the floor.

“I believe those are yours, Miss French.”

“Oh!” She crouched down to pick up her pantyhose and underwear. “Sorry about that, Mr. Gold.”

He shook his head. “Not at all, Miss French.”

It would be too intimate to put on her underwear in front of him, and she didn’t want to excuse herself back into the bathroom. Lacey’s only option was to roll her stockings around her panties and hold the bundle in the hand farthest away from Mr. Gold.

“I’ve got the car running out front,” he said. “I’d say it’s high time you got to your bed.”

“What time is it?”

“Just before midnight. I’ll see you home before your glass slippers vanish into fairy dust.”

Lacey snorted at the joke, then sobered when she looked down at her shoes. She’d gotten these sensible black pumps to wear at her mother’s funeral. Maybe it would be better if they did disappear. Then she wouldn’t have to think about tragedy every time she looked at them.

Or maybe it would be okay. After all, now she could remember that these were the shoes she was wearing the first time Mr. Gold fucked her.

****

He drove her home. The Cadillac was as smooth and as silent as a shark cutting through water. It was a far cry from the only vehicle she ever drove. The store’s delivery van coughed and rumbled like a workhorse that needed to be put out to pasture. Her Uncle Manny was over at least once a month to repair it. He used all his skill as a mechanic to keep that clunker running for just a little while longer. Just until things got better.

Lacey stretched out in the roomy warmth of the passenger seat. She luxuriated in this comfort for as long as it would last. She’d have to go back to reality all too soon.

“I can’t believe after all this I’m gonna have to take a cold shower.”

Mr. Gold looked at her. She couldn’t see his expression in the dark, but there was a tinge of amusement in his voice. “Is your libido that insatiable, Miss French?”

“Huh? Oh.” Lacey chuckled. “No, I mean literally. Our hot water tank is pretty much useless.”

He pulled over and parked in front of Game of Thorns. There was no amusement in his voice when he spoke again. “No one informed me of any problems with your hot water.”

Lacey blinked. “Why would we?”

“Because I’m your landlord, Miss French. Technically, that’s my hot water tank.” He shook his head. “I never should have taken your father’s word that everything was fine.”

“Um. I mean, it’s not a big deal. My dad’s gonna get it fixed eventually.”

Like everything else in their lives would eventually improve.

Mr. Gold didn’t say anything. He unlocked the door and Lacey took that as her cue to get out.

“I--uh--I had fun tonight.” She stood in the street with the passenger door open. “Thank you for a… really great evening.”

In the flickering street lamps, Lacey could make out the shape of Mr. Gold’s head, but not his expression. He was looking at her, but she had no clue what he was thinking.

“You’re welcome, Miss French.”

She shut the door, and picked her way through parked cars and piles of snow. He waited until she opened the unlocked side door of the building, and then he drove off.

#courtship #rumbelle #golden lace #rumbelle fic #rumbelle smut #golden lace smut #golden lace fic

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