#but that'll have to happen another day
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Dancestors and Their Implications on Classpecting
For many of Homestuck's readers, the Dancestors aren't exactly fond memories. While there is a good chunk of the fanbase who loves them for what's under the surface, myself included, I would argue the majority of the fanbase sees the Dancestors as what they were likely intended to be: bad-faith mockeries of Tumblr and the Homestuck fanbase at the time.
They are not well-written characters, for the most part. Oh, there are glimpses of interesting characterization and deeper story for all of them, but none of them beyond perhaps Aranea and Meenah live up to their potential. Many of them are uncomfortable at best and downright harmful at worst.
I do not want to talk about their characterization directly here, though. No, I would instead like to discuss the impact that the Dancestors have on a far more widely beloved part of Homestuck: the classpect system.
As we all know, the classpect system has two parts: the Class, such as 'Heir', and the Aspect, such as 'Breath'. Every sburb and sgrub player has a defined classpect, and every player we see in the comic has their classpect revealed at some point in time.
For the humans, every human has a unique class and a unique aspect. There are only eight of them who play sburb, so it makes sense for each of them to get one of the twelve options, as a shorthand for character differentiation. The Strilondes may be ectobiologically related, but each of the four has their own unique class and aspect.
For the trolls, though, there's something a little different that happens. Because there are only twelve aspects and fourteen classes, and because the master classes are only seen in-comic with the cherubs, there has to be overlap between the core twelve trolls and their Dancestors. Every class and aspect is used twice, in different combinations so that every troll has their own title.
What's interesting about the Dancestors' classpects, though, is that every Dancestor's aspect lines up with their respective core troll. The Captors, for example, are both Doom players, while the Vantases are both Blood players. They have different classes, but their aspect stays the same between the two of them.
Where this gets even more interesting is in the way the relationship between Dancestor and core troll works. Troll genetics is... hard to understand at best, and complicated even further when ectobiology is pulled into the mix, but we know that they have a concept of ancestors who provide the majority of their genetic code. We also know that each of the Dancestors is ectobiologically the ancestor of their respective core troll. The Dancestor Aranea Serket, for example, is genetically the same as Alternia's Mindfang; much in the same way that Jane Crocker is genetically the same as Nanna.
While we cannot say that the ancestry rules are the same for the sgrub players as they are for the rest of Trollkind, I believe that it is more informative and interesting to read the text in that way, because when we do there is a clear and incredibly useful correlation to be found. Because we do not see the trolls' ectobiology in action, I think it is reasonable to make the assumption that ectobiology machines tend to reflect the genetic combination practices of the species playing, and so would create a mother grub-like condition for the trolls as opposed to the parent-like condition that Jegbert had.
Assuming this to be true, then, and that the Dancestors share a large part of their genetic code with their respective core trolls, let's look back at the aspect connection.
Why are their aspects the same, but their classes different?
I believe it is a matter of nature vs nurture, where aspects are determined by nature and classes are determined by nurture.
The biggest difference between the trolls and their Dancestors is the world they were brought up in. The Dancestors lived in a world much more similar to our own, with many social issues being bureaucratic and political in nature; where the core trolls grew up in a much more violent and war-focused world. This is very clear in the canon of Homestuck, and established regularly throughout openbound.
This would, inevitably, lead to the Dancestors being raised and nurtured to implement their aspects in different ways from the core trolls. In turn, this brings them to have different classes.
Let's also look at what the basic setup of classpecting: classes have verbs (eg: bards and princes destroy) and are either passive or active (eg: bards destroy [aspect] while princes are destroyed by [aspect]), and aspects are the elemental forces affected by those verbs. From the Expanded Zodiac, we can further interpret aspects as a person's core values, and extrapolate that classes are how they interact with those core values.
This, too, lines up with the nature vs nurture interpretation of the classpect system. Both Karkat and Kankri are Blood players, and we can see that at their core both of them very heavily value the bonds between people. Those bonds are, for the Vantases, the most important parts of their lives. What's different between them is how they act on that belief: Karkat, as a Knight, helps (or, more properly, serves) the people he's bonded with and make sure they're happy and prospering, and is regularly the guy any of them go to for emotional advice; where Kankri, as a Seer, knows the connections between people and knows how to work with those connections to try and minimize conflict.
Karkat grew up in a world where he was marked for death from the day he was hatched, and the only way he would survive would be to serve powerful people and hope to impress them. He was nurtured into a role where helping people he's grown a bond with was useful and practical to keep himself alive and moving forward in the world.
Kankri grew up in a world where he was effectively a highblood's pet, and the only way he could further his place in society was to understand the connections between people and the complexities of a political bureaucracy. He was nurtured into a role where understanding the bonds between people was useful and practical to keep himself moving forward in the world.
Both of them, though, are still Blood players at their core.
While it is clearest and easiest to see this connection in the Vantases, it is, to my knowledge, true for all of the troll pairs.
This interpretation of classpecting, where classes are determined by nurture and aspects are determined by nature, may seem somewhat less than useful on the surface, but I believe that it is actually a GREATLY useful reference point for writing and developing characters, both in AUs and in original works.
Let's say you wanted to write a high school AU, but you were struggling to keep Karkat in character because of his more aggressive tendancies. Knowing that his Blood aspect is determined by nature would help to identify exactly what core values should be carried over, where having Knight be determined by nurture would help identify what might change or shift in this new version. Perhaps he's still a Knight, and he was still raised in a situation that led him to be knight-like, but it now takes the form of Karkat demanding that his friends have study groups together and ensuring that they're all ready for tests and quizzes.
It's flexible, of course, and should never be used as the single point of a character's personality, but I think that using the classpecting system to identify how a character's environments affect how they interact with their core belief is a really interesting and useful usage of the system.
TL;DR: I believe that the Dancestors' aspects being the same as their core troll counterparts while their classes differ indicates that classpecting is determined, in part, by the nature and nurture factors on a person's personality. Aspects are determined by nature and genetics, where classes are determined by nurture and environment. I think that this interpretation of the classpecting system is particularly interesting when creating characters and useful in analyzing characters both within and outside of Homestuck, as a way to identify how the way a character is raised leads them to interact with their core beliefs and values.
#homestuck#classpect#homestuck analysis#classpect analysis#dancestors#my analysis#<- I hope those are all the right tags#i think about this CONSTANTLY#it's just always sitting there in the back of my mind#and. i finally got around to writing a post about it! woo hoo!#i hope this is comprehensible i have no clue if anyone else can understand what i'm saying here#i could just be writing nonsense#but. i think it's interesting ok#i think its really interesting#i WANTED to use sollux and mituna an example but sollux is a mage of doom#and there isnt really a lot of clear information in canon about mages#which sucks because i want to talk about mituna so bad#but that'll have to happen another day#also for the record. i specifically didnt use aranea or meenah#because if i talk about aranea i have to talk about vriska and im not touching that bag of worms#and i like meenah but i dont feel comfortable talking on her because i dont remember a lot of what she did super well#the other dancestors are in similar boats but to a lesser degree because there isnt much there for them
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yusuke's big ol doe eyes
bonus (SICKENING!!!!!):
#he's not even kuwabara's height in them but he's closer#also yusuke's outfit here is like. exactly what i wore for the last two years of high school basically every day#he permanently altered my fashion sense and now it's looping around to me altering his. oh how the turn tables. woe platforms be upon ye#also if you think the anime-realism jumpscare panel looks bad it's part of the bit and if you like it it's bc i tried so so very hard#anyway yusuke *I* think you look very scary in your big clonky platforms ok. there there buddy shhhh#they're stupid. :)#yyh#yu yu hakusho#kuwameshi#yusuke urameshi#kazuma kuwabara#kuwabara kazuma#urameshi yusuke#also i gave him piercings bc uhhhhh uh um uhhhhh i think they look cool sorry. gender envy yusuke#skrunkart#joji kazama voice: [Beautiful Eyes.] now THATS for the rgg audience there we go i haven't forgotten y'all#yet another instance of me trying to make just like a regular kuwameshi sketch page and getting derailed#it's happened like 3 times which means i probably have enough for a sketch dump on accident lol#so that'll happen soonish probably#maybe in like. 2 hours idk. maybe not for years who knows#forces them to be mushy JUST A LITTLE BIT#they're cute to me... and i had to draw them actually together bc i realized i never make stuff of them Actually together :(#so they getta kiss god bless
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good morning!! <3
#gonna finish up wrio's story quest today~#and i'm nearly done with the ghost-hunting event in hsr#i finished the last major quest of it yesterday and now it's just the last little bits ^^#also i've come up with a tag for a new f/o so that'll happen today probably :3#and if i come up with another... we'll see#but anyways~#i hope you have a good day/night!! <3#morning rambles
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welp. my last first day of school is over
#it was over like two hours ago but i only just got settled at home so shhhh#its weird to think i just. won't have another first day of school#that's it. that's all.#i guess ill have another if i go to college but i don't know if that'll happen#it just feels really weird
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okay yeah as soon as I stopped trying to remember things I felt a lot less overwhelmed.
I think I'm gonna get snacks and then lie down for a while because I kind of dissociated from the tailbone pain and forgot I needed a break from sitting.
I have some chocolate and stuff and I can just curl up under a blanket and play games on our phone or something
#personal#thoughts#🍬 post#might also try writing down nice things that have happened today because that'll probably help as well#today has actually be really fun so far#the thing with the journaling is one specific stressful thing that's not great to deal with#but the rest of the day has been really nice#I briefly got a little bit overwhelmed because of our executive dysfunction but I asked another alter for help with that#and we ended up being able to sort stuff out and deal with whatever was wrong
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Clearly people who say to just keep getting up at the same time each day aren't sleep deprived
#i get about two hours less sleep than i need every weekday and it absolutely sucks i am not making myself get up at an hour i hate#just to maintain what fragile sleep schedule i have bc i find it hard enough to get to bed before 1am regardless#let alone before midnight#and you expect me to kill myself getting up at the same time each day???? absolutely not#if i was able to wake up an hour later than i do then i might consider it but i hate that piece of ot advice bc it makes me wanna die#(metaphorically)#my ideal waking up time is actually 10am rn esp with how incapable i am of getting to bed sooner but that'll never happen :(#and what sucks is the job i might try to step into would just have shittier hours for me!!! I'd probably have to be there an hour sooner!#i would literally just want to pass away i can't do it i cant go to bed right away bc i need an hour and a half at least to unwind#BUT THATS CUTTING INTO MY EIGHT HOURS BUT IF I DONT DO THAT I'LL NEVER BE ABLE TO DESTRESS DURING THE WEEK#i need alone time at night and the only time i can is after my parents go to bed#man. can you guess when im making this post#sab speaks#sab rants#ive got another rant about how people say to skip breakfast but if i do without enough sleep I'll suffer#but thats for another post
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hiii i loved „spring breaks loose”!!🤍 could i request another something for theodore, where the reader is quite bubbly and loves talking and he, the quiet guy he is, just likes to listen? and maybe the reader is worried that she talks too much and it could be annoying to him but he’s just so in love that he’s obsessed with all her rabling😭😭 sorry if thats too specific
darling socialite
A/N: um i love this because if someone let me chat their ear off, i would fall in love. i love a chatter and i love a listener 🩷 gif creds: @perfectlyfuckingcivils
Pairings: Theodore Nott x Fem!Reader
Summary: You are talkative as all hell, and Theo has dubbed himself your devoted listener. 1.3k words
Warnings: i be cursing, fluff, mild self-consciousness, two dummies in LOVE, mattheo being a perv (boy moment), kissing…, pansy being a slight bitch (lovingly)
Everyday, you look forward to telling Theo anything and everything. Sometimes, you'll get so excited to tell him something that you'll jot it down on the nearest surface. Most of the time, that surface is your hand. Who can blame you; you can't resist the gory details.
Everyday, Theo looks forward to hearing anything and everything from you. You're his favorite news source, his sweetest messenger, his darling socialite, and he is your devoted subscriber. He's worried one day you'll run out of things to tell him, but according to the ink splotches across your skin, there's a slim chance that'll happen.
"Hi, teddy!" you chirp, and he turns to welcome you into the seat beside him. "You will not believe what I saw in the courtyard on my way here: a willow tit!"
Mattheo chokes on a gulp of juice, sputtering in his seat and looking over at you. "Pardon?"
"Don't be crude, Matty. I'm talking about birds."
"Yeah, I got that, I just never realized you’re playing for the other team—"
"Mattheo!" you holler, glaring at him in utter disbelief, "you complete idiot! Birds, as in real birds. As in those things that fly around and chirp and eat berries!"
"Let me get this straight, we're not talking about some bird's tits? Suddenly, I'm uninterested," he says, earning a pointed glare from Theo.
"Anyway," you say, rolling your eyes and facing Theo, "You hardly see them anymore, they're very rare, but I saw one, and it was the cutest creature I've ever seen on campus! It was so round, I could have died. He must've liked all the rain we got over the weekend. I hope he survives the winter and has lots of little tit babies in the spring!"
Theo could not be more head over heels for you while you babble about round tits and babies. He thinks if he ever opens his mouth to respond, he’ll screw it up in an instant. Thank Merlin, he's naturally quiet and content to listen to you all day. And thank Merlin, you never ask for anything more from him.
If only you knew how much he truly adores you and your ramblings. He holds your company in his highest regard and considers every time you choose him a blessing.
You never think too much of Theo's tight-lippedness. You figure if he was completely sick of it, he'd just get up and walk away. Or maybe that's not like him, and maybe you are a bother.
It doesn't help when Pansy skips up to you in the hall and says, "I'm really impressed you're able to hold Theo's attention as long as you do."
"What are you talking about, P?" you say.
"Well... don't you ever worry he's, like... bored with you? I mean, when was the last time he actually contributed to your 'conversations'. I just don't want you to get your hopes up, you know?" —she shrugs it off like it's not an unforgivable curse to the gut—"If I were you, I'd find a more attentive playmate. You can always talk to me!"
"Thanks, Pansy," you say.
"Just looking out for a friend! See ya!"
You nod and wait by the bottom of the stairs as she hops her way up. You didn't think you were getting your hopes up, necessarily. You thought Theo was just a good listener. And sure, he's not super responsive, but he's just shy. That's not his fault.
…
There's a rapping of knuckles at the door, and Mattheo hurdles his bed and reaches for the knob.
"Why, good evening, dearest birdwatcher"—Theo perks up from where he's rifling through his trunk.
"I could say the same to you, perv," you tease, "Is Theo around? I need—"
"To talk to him? Figures. He's just hiding his softcore stash—"
"Shut up!" Theo hollers, popping up and hurrying to the door, a little flushed to find you looking at him, "he's just joking."
Mattheo chuckles, "No, he's right, Theo would never have so much fun"—he dodges the jab to his side—"Alright, I'll leave you two lovebirds to your tits and whatnot. Try not to make too much noise, we have downstairs neighbors." He winks and makes his way down the boys dormitories stairwell.
And suddenly, Theo can't remember the last time he was truly alone with you. No onlookers or eavesdroppers, no Pansy and no Mattheo. Just the two of you. His sweaty palms and your rapid heartbeat.
"I need to ask you something," you finally blurt. He looked so nervous you thought he might throw up over the railing, so you put him out of his misery before he has the chance.
"Yes, yeah, anything," he huffs.
"Well," you say, "I was thinking—just... ruminating, really, because it was suggested that I bore you with my chattiness"—you cross your arms over your chest and look to the floor—"and not that I'm begging for pity or even a response, I just wanted to know how you feel because I realized maybe I don't ask about you enough. You know, like I'm always worried about me, or something, but I do worry about you, too! I just wasn't sure if that's something—if you maybe wanted to talk about it more. Because I can be a good listener! I'd be happy to hear whatever you have to say!"
Theo leans his shoulder against the doorframe, adjusting the bottom of his sweater as it clings to his hips. How could he let you believe you're too much for him. How could he let you believe yourself to be some kind of social burden to him. All because he'd much rather listen to you than contribute his own two cents.
"See! Merlin, even now, I've just talked your ear off while trying to apologize for constantly talking your ear off! And I haven't even apologized, yet! I'm so sorry, Theo, I know it's a problem, and I didn't mean to take advantage of your politeness."
You scuff your sole on the landing with a whine, and he leans to the side to watch you look over the edge. It's so quiet for a moment, he can hear your soft breathing if he focuses on it.
"It's not a problem," Theo says. You look over, lips parted at the smug look on his face. "And if I was the one who suggested otherwise, I couldn't be more apologetic."
It makes you smile. He's just said two very thoughtful things to you. Out loud. To your face. You could crumble.
"No! No, teddy, it wasn't you, it was... doesn't matter. You really don't mind?"
He shakes his head, a little amused, honestly. How could he mind? You’re the greatest thing since dark chocolate, and he’d still give that up. You’d go just as well with his afternoon tea.
“Well, then,” you huff, warmer under his gaze, determined to get this damned apology across.
“Alright,” Theo says. Apology accepted. Apology not even necessary. But still accepted.
“Okay. But next time you catch me rambling, you better just shut me up! Tell me to ‘shush’ or something! It’s a problem, and I give you full permission to—”
He kisses you. He leans down, smug with his fingers under your chin, and he kisses you! Shuts you right up like you’re still some gullible first year completely wooed by his boyish charms! Oh, but he’s kissing you very sweetly. And when your knees go a tad wobbly, he rushes to cradle your elbow.
“Like that?” he says.
“That’s no way to treat a lady, Theodore. You should be completely ashamed of yourself for ever thinkin—”
He kisses you again. More sure and much quicker. Like a reflex. A knee jerk reaction without the kneeing or the jerking. Just his stupidly soft lips.
“Yeah,” you whisper, “that works… but you can’t just kiss me every time you want to shut me up.”
“No”—he pecks your lips, fingers gentle at your cheek—“I plan on kissing you much more often than that.”
masterlist
#theo nott#theodore nott#theo nott fluff#theodore nott fluff#theo nott x reader#theodore nott x reader#fluff#fanfic#hp universe#x reader#fanfiction#x female reader#x fem!reader#theo nott x fem!reader#friends to lovers
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I just dug through my folder of important medical mail/etc. and I swear I cleared out stuff before and thought I only kept the essential stuff, so where did all this superfluous paper come from?????
I just cleared out/shredded so much paper @_@
#personal#I'm soooo strong for doing so#my drawer is so much lighter now#but that was only the medical folder#I still have like a bank statement folder and a folder from my old jobs#and idk what else#but that'll just have to happen another day I'm tired now
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Hello, my dear! Anon that went feral for sub!valentino here, I now present,
Vees with their collective dom:
- I just know for a fact that during events, these sluts wouldn't leave you the fuck alone. Gotta go to the bathroom? Velvette needs to retouch her make up too. Gotta go to the bar/snack area? Val's been feeling pretty peckish himself. You talking to some wannabe businessman? Well, who better to talk business than Mr. CEO of VoxTech himself.
- The ONE TIME that they all put their collective braincells together is when someone else is trying to get with THEIR boo. I'm 100% sure that when they see some rando flirting you, it's gonna be on sight. Vox's already planning on how to ruin this dude's entire career, Velvette's already on her socials dragging them to absolute filth, and Val's just outright telling them about how he wouldn't even waste his time with their ugly ass. Goodluck tho, gum is gonna be easier to remove than them once the rando is gone.
- I know that 'hey, Velvette is a needy brat and wants to be treated like princess blah blah blah', but imagine taking off her heels and placing her feet on your lap for a massage, cause you just know that's been walking in them heels all day. Imagine rubbing her shoulders and handing her coffee, while she's barking orders at everyone around the both of you. Imagine treating her softly and her freaking the fuck out because WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK ARE YOU DOING TO HER AND WHY DOES SHE WANT TO TWIRL HER HAIR AND KICK HER FEET
- They absolutely have another groupchat that consists of just them sending each other pictures of you being sexy as fuck. Maybe even doing power plays, like sending candid pics of you with them during your weekly totally-not-a-date-hang outs. Velvette's for sure gonna spam all her social handles with #LookHowMuchThey'reHavingFunWithME and #Don'tWeLookCuteTogether (Vox might or might not tweak her account so the hashtags get deleted)
- I wholeheartedly think that since they're a bunch of power-hungry freaks, they'd go gaga over having a physically more powerful partner
* These brats would absolutely drop everything that they're doing if they even get a hint that you're gonna work out. I'm talking Vox stepping out mid-meeting just to get some "fresh air", Velvette suddenly having "art block" and that she needs to find "inspo" elsewhere, and Valentino going on a "smoke break" mid-shoot because the actors weren't doing anything right (they want you to spank them over your knee until all they can remember is your name and the feel of your hand on their ass please please plea-)
- But also, casual acts of dominance anyone?? Like just almost bumping into Vox but catching him last minute, and saying "careful, sweetheart"????? Val almost tripping face first but you caught him and say, "you got to be more careful, baby"????
* ---------- * ---------- *
BONUS ROUND!!
Just because I could not just fucking resist the idea...
What if the reason the Vees chose someone as their dom because said someone has that psycho rizz, like the Vees fully go "this person has probably killed a fuck ton of other demons, but, hey, they're so fucking hot covered in blood and I wonder if the next thing they'll murder is this ass 🥺🔞🥵🫦💦"
- The Vees kick starting their obsession with you just because they happen to come across you through the cameras with a bloody grin after a brutal fight, with you just absolutely dominating the other person
- The Vees would certainly want to get fucked by you after you've fought/killed someone (they don't care whose blood is it but they absolutely care about how fast they can get you to rail them before you get cleaned up all that blood)
- I personally think that Vox and Val have masochistic tendencies
* Vox, whose normally composed, rational and would never do shit that'll ruin his image, is an absolute slut for getting choked while he's getting railed by you. He wants to see the stars, wants to chase that lightheadedness, he wants to have no thoughts asides from the hands around his neck and the cock in his ass.
* Normally, when you press a knife into someone they lean AWAY from it. Not Val tho, he leans IN to the knife, because he just can't stop aching over the idea that you're marking him as yours. He can't stop the way his cock throbs and twitches when he feels the knife dig in juuuust a little bit into his skin. It makes him feel dirtier, even more of a whore, even more YOURS.
- The Vees, who are normally so quiet about being a sub, becoming loud to one another about how many bruises and scars you left on them. Val and Vox walking around shirtless showcasing different bruises, and Velvette wearing a thin slip that shows the bite marks on her thighs.
* ---------- * ---------- *
Thank you for liking my punishment ideas for sub!val. Honestly, I can just keep on going because their dynamic is dynamic-ing and someone should probably sedate me already.
Anywaaaaaays, have a nice day, lovely!
xoxoxoxo ❤️
SJAPSPAPSPPSPAPS YOU’RE AMAZING AND I LOVE THIS. NOT TO BE EXTREME OR CRAZY BUT I AM EXTREME AND CRAZY AND I WILL GET ON MY HANDS AND KNEES AND BEG FOR YOU TO CONTINUE LEAVING YOUR THOUGHTS IN MY INBOX.
Ehem, anyways. I have so many thoughts!
First of all, your point on princess treatment with Velvette is absolutely wonderful. Like especially surprising her with it because she’s had a lot of attitude that specific day, mostly because of the stress of running the fashion industry, but then treating her super gently and massaging her shoulders, asking her what she wants for dinner and telling her she did so good that day, despite her amount of work.
And Vox and Val would literally be so fucking jealous if they see you giving her this treatment. Like, “Actually I had a super stressful day too! And my shoulders hurt…. um, hint hint.”
The group chat idea is actually gold because like Velvette and Val would send somewhat normal (not really but yk more normal) photos of you and Vox’s would be the most fucking creepy ass shit in the would. First of all, it would be on a fucking surveillance camera from like yards away, and you would just be minding your business not knowing. The others would kinda be like “…okay, Vox I don’t think you fully understood the prompt but alright 🥰”
NOW LETS TALK ABOUT THE PHYSICALLY BUILT READER IDEA BECAUSE THATS SO YUMMY. Tell me Val and Vox wouldn’t dramatically trip on purpose just so he can see your muscles work when you catch him mid air. Velvette would make you carry mountains of supplies for her job, just so she can see you flex while trying to keep all of her shit from spilling over. And they’d always time it so perfectly, like it’d be a day where you’re wearing a tank top and Oh! All of a sudden Vox needs you to carry boxes of wires and chords up to his office.
Also the psycho rizz is absolutely a thing, like 100% I don’t have anything to add because that’s literally so accurate. And i’m glad someone else recognizes Vox and Val’s weird masochistic tendencies, because they are very present.
In conclusion, PERFECT!! Next time, give yourself an emoji or something so I have something to call you by, by the way!
#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel x you#inbox open#hazbin hotel smut#dom reader#vox x reader#valentino x reader#velvette x reader#sub vox#sub vees#sub velvette#sub valentino#the vees x reader
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Long Night
Pairings - Roommate!tfatws!Bucky x Fem!Roommate!Reader
Summary - You've been stood up twice in a row now. Bucky is tired of seeing you disappointed. So he takes you on a date.
Warnings - angst, being stood up, angry/annoyed bucky
Notes - I'm horrible at summaries, I know!! This happened to me a couple days ago, wishing I had a Bucky to take me on a date in Brooklyn right about now! Not proofread so lmk if there are any mistakes! Thank you for reading loves!!
WC - 1,750
masterlist
"Whatcha gettin' ready for, doll?" Bucky leaned on your bedroom doorframe, watching you straighten your hair in the mirror on top of your dresser.
"I have a date." You smiled, not noticing the slight drop in Bucky's smile.
"Oh, with anyone I know?"
You shook your head. "His name's Nash. Someone Sam set me up with," You explained. "He's supposed to pick me up in twenty minutes."
Bucky internally rolled his eyes. The guys Sam hung around with were nice, yes. However, he never got the guts to take you out on the date you deserved. A date with him.
"Are you sure you want him picking you up?" Bucky asked, making you look back in confusion. "I mean you don't know him that well... You could meet him there or uh, I'll drop you off."
You let out a small laugh, "Yeah Buck, I'll just have my male roommate drop me off at a date, that'll go over well."
Bucky shrugged. He walked away from your bedroom to grab a beer from the fridge before sitting on the couch. He turned on whatever channel didn't require him to use the remote too much before slouching into the cushions.
Twenty minutes passed by when you slipped out of your bedroom, shutting the door behind you.
"Wow, doll. You.." Bucky's eyes widened slightly, "You look great."
You grinned, looking down at your outfit. It was basic but it was the most comfortable yet fashionable outfit you had. Black flared leggings with a sage green sweater and some white sneakers. It was simple yet appropriate for a late-night-diner date.
And to top it all off your makeup had cooperated for once. Both eyebrows looked like twins and not sisters. Your highlight was perfect, shimmering, but not too much. And you had the perfect lipgloss that made your lips look sunkissed. Perfect.
"He should be here any minute!" You sprayed some perfume, your favorite vanilla scent, and went to sit in the armchair across from the couch.
Bucky hummed, keeping his eyes on the Tv, taking another sip of beer.
However, twenty more minutes went by and Nash hadn't texted you, hadn't called, and hadn't shown up. Bucky was starting to feel bad and you could tell by the pity looks he kept throwing your way.
"He uhm," Bucky cleared his throat, "Maybe he hit traffic. You know, with it being New York and everything." You nodded, trying to hold onto at least a small bit of hope. "Yeah, traffic."
But then another forty minutes went by and he still hadn't even texted.
And then another hour.
And another hour.
By the time Bucky finally turned off the Tv it was three and a half hours since the time Nash was supposed to come pick you up.
You were still sitting in the armchair, having dozed off with a couple tears streaked down your face. Ruining your once-perfect makeup.
Bucky sighed, silently cursing Sam even though he knew it wasn't his fault.
"Alright, doll," Bucky whispered, placing his metal arm behind your back, and lifting your legs with his right. You groaned awake, holding your phone in your palm as you wiped your cheek. "What time is it?" Your eyes shoot open, "Did he show up?"
Bucky placed you in your bed, handing you one of his t-shirts you had stolen a while ago. "No, doll. I'm sorry." You stripped your shirt off to change as Bucky went into your bathroom, grabbing a couple of makeup wipes.
"Here." He softly spoke, hating your distraught and disappointed expression.
You wiped your makeup off, shedding a couple more tears in the process. The tears dripped from your cheek to the grey henley Bucky had given you. "It's okay. Maybe he was just busy."
Bucky wanted to roll his eyes. He wanted to tell you that any respectful man, any gentleman wouldn't have done what Nash did to you. But he kept his mouth shut, opting to hum in your favor, and threw the makeup wipes in the trash when your face was completely bare.
"Goodnight, Doll." He placed a kiss on the crown of your head as you hummed in response. "Goodnight, Buck."
---
A couple days later, you finally got a text back from Nash.
"Bucky I was right!!"
You came sliding into the kitchen, your socks making it easy to ice-skate on the smooth wood floor.
Bucky chuckled at your ability to skid so gracefully without falling. He had tried it once but vowed to never do it again after he slid into the dining room table. You would never let him live it down.
"Right about what, doll?" Bucky flipped the pancake, adding some vanilla to the dough.
"About Nash! He actually was busy!"
Bucky quirked an eyebrow. Wondering why he had waited this long to text you back. Six days to be exact. "Did he say with what?"
Bucky turned back to making breakfast.
"He said he got busy with work, and that something at work pissed him off so he didn't wanna see me while he was upset." You explained what Nash had told you.
Bucky had never wanted to hit someone in the face so hard.
Well, actually that wasn't true. But he did want to sock Nash in the face for standing you up and giving you a half-ass excuse days later.
"I mean that explains things, yeah..." Your brows furrowed at Bucky's flat tone. "Do you not believe it?"
Bucky sighed, pulling the milk and eggs from the fridge as you sat on the countertop. "It's not that I don't believe it, it's just that it kinda seems like he forgot and or didn't wanna see you so he made up an excuse a little less than a week later to not seem like a dick."
You nodded, taking in the information. Bucky couldn't sense your reaction quite yet, seeing how you were just staring at the ground with your hands in your lap, swinging your legs in the air.
"I mean, I'm seeing him tonight. If everything goes well after then I'll know it really was true."
"You're seeing him again?"
You nod, "But this time I'm meeting him at the fourth corner Bakery. And I'm meeting him earlier this time, around noon."
Bucky looked over at the clock, seeing it was already 10:45. "Well you better go get ready," He said almost reluctantly, "Breakfast will be done before you need to leave."
You smiled, hopping off the countertop as you gave Bucky a quick kiss on the cheek. "Thanks, Buck. You're the best!"
He smiled, but then remembered he's only making you breakfast before you go on a date with a guy who's already stood you up once. Rolling his eyes, he scrambled the eyes, listening to your music in the other room.
---
You had already left for your date three hours ago when Bucky decided to go over to see Sam. His excuse was wanting to discuss the next mission they were due to go on in a week. But he just didn't want to sit at home all day, thinking about how you were on a date with another guy.
However, before he could reach Sam's he had to pass by the bakery where you were meeting Nash.
Yet when he looked through the window, there you were, sitting all alone at a table for two, eating a piece of cheesecake. No Nash in sight.
An internal war started in Bucky's mind. Should he go in and see if you were okay? Or should he believe Nash was in the bathroom and you were just sitting by yourself for a minute or two?
But then he noticed the solemn look on your face. The way your fork poked at the half-eaten cake. And that was your favorite kind. Bucky mumbled a soft curse, opening the door to the bakery and making his way over to you.
Without words, he sat down, his gloved hand resting on the table in front of your plate. You kept your head down, not quite looking at Bucky but knowing he was there.
"He didn't show, again." You mumbled. If Bucky didn't have super soldier hearing he doubted he could've heard what you had said.
"I know, doll. I'm sorry." You finally looked up, tears in your eyes which made Bucky's heart clench. "Why me, Buck? Why am I the one who's alone?" Bucky stayed silent, knowing you needed to vent.
"Am I unlovable? Is that what it is? Why does every single one of my friends get to find the one? Get to fall in love, get married, and have kids and I'm the one without someone?!" Your outburst made some other customers look over in concern.
You groaned, resting your head on your hand and hiding your face from the rest of the bakery. "I- uh, I'm not sure, doll. But I know one thing.. you're not unlovable. You just haven't found the one who wants to take the effort to show you how effortless you are to love."
You looked up at Bucky, fresh tears gleaming in your eyes. You had never seen him look so vulnerable before. He usually grumped his way through emotions. But not with you, not anymore.
He gave you a sad smile, clearing his throat before he stood, "Y'know what, doll. Let's go." He held out his hand. You looked around, "Where are we going?"
Bucky took your palm in his gloved hand, "It's a surprise." You laughed, before standing and throwing the rest of your soggy cheesecake away. "You know how I feel about surprises."
"Okay, I'll give you a hint." Bucky opened the door for you, making sure to walk on the side of the road with the bustling cars and traffic. Bucky called a taxi, opening the door for you. "You're about to have the best date of your life."
You stared at him in awe before laughing and climbing in the taxi. Bucky's knees barely fit as he scooted in next to you. The driver asked where to go as Bucky licked his lips, "Brooklyn, please."
You smiled, "Brooklyn?"
Bucky nodded, throwing an arm around your shoulder. "I may be old but I still know some good spots to take my best girl on a date."
A blush rose to your cheeks as you looked over to him. "Your best girl?"
Bucky nodded, picking up your hand with his metal one before leaving a soft kiss on your knuckles. "Always and forever, doll."
---
masterlist
#buckybarnes#marvel#fanfic#bucky angst#avengers#fluff#oneshot#bucky barnes x reader#fem!reader#sam wilson#lokiswifeduh#i dont have any writing ideas#i hate writers block#does anyone read fanfiction anymore#i had popcorn for dinner#bucky barnes smut#angst#sad bucky#sad bucky fanfiction#bucky x sad!reader#bucky loves plums#i quit my job#marvel imagine#james buchanan barnes
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[brief mentions of non-consensual touching]
I kinda wanna flesh out yan cheater and "cheater" reader more. Fuel up the angst. I'm thinking high school sweethearts who promised to be each other's first as they went off to college. Yan sees the whole thing with reader with another person and goes to a friend for comfort. The friend sees this as an opportunity to tear the two apart as Yan was previously going to join their band instead of a straight shot to college. A few drinks down they're kissing the first person who makes eye contact with them at the party, forgetting all about their woes and promises - and skipping town without closure or a proper goodbye to their lover.
Couple years down the line and they're now a big shot - carrying little resemblance of the person they once were. Shows sold out in every venue and a different fan on their lap every night. They all have some feature that reminds Yan of their former flame which they muddle over to the very day their paths cross again.
Their latest tour leads them to a familiar place. A town where nothing ever happened and everything stayed the same. They learn their ex is still working hard for their degree and takes night shifts at a nearby gas station. The tension is thick from the moment they walk in. They didn't even want to be there, but it was the only station in close proximity. What do you even say to someone who's caused so much heart break after all this time?
"That'll be 21.10... Cash or credit?"
That's it.... After everything you put them through. After all those nights they spent crying over you - and craving your warmth in their bed. The future that you pictured together. The life you dream of in each other's arms. You tarnished what little hope they had - and that's all you could say to them...
"A "how've you been?" would've been nice...."
"I have nothing to say to the person who abandoned me. Can't even say that much since you hardly remind me of them."
Really classy from the one who caused this mess in the first place.
"Don't act like you're free of any guilt in this... I saw you with them that day... You seemed a lot more cozy with that stranger than you ever did with me."
"Stranger, what are you...." Your eyes dart around the room as the gears in your head click. Pulling out your phone, you fight back tears as you show them a picture of that stranger. "Is this who you're talking about?...."
Please say no....
They scoff. "So you do know who I'm talking about. You still together or did you run off with someone else same as you did me?"
The sadness and pain just... vanishes. All these years, you thought you had been the problem. Made to many promises. Loved then too much or too little. From what it seemed like now - they were the one who never loved you enough.
"That's my cousin....."
They didn't hear you - they couldn't. Couldnt acknowledge that maybe...
"What?"
"That's my fucking cousin, asshole."
Everything they ever believed was the painstaking truth - was a only a cruel misunderstanding.
"We hadn't seen each other's since we were kids. Their mom had just died... I tried calling you when I got home, but you weren't there. Did you seriously think I cheated on you? And you just ran away?..."
"I....you...." Were their everything. When they saw you that night the pressure of every problem weighting down on them finally snapped. They couldn't think rationally at that time - if only if they'd put the faith in you they always prided themself in having.
"You coward...." You throw their change across the counter, adding issult to injury as you point for the door.
"Get out of my store. Get out of my life."
"Y/n, wait..please."
"I said... GET OUT!"
The foundation of their new self crumbles. After your alleged betrayal they rebuilt themselves from the ground up as an overconfident, self serving individual, but like everything else to this point - it was all a lie. There were always those days they wondered "what if". What if they had stayed. What if they had tried to fix what had broken in your relationship. Knowing the truth, those fantasies return with vengeance. The truth would've came sooner and the wounds to mend would have been lesser. You'd talk over the miscommunication and they'd apologize fully by taking you out to your favorite restaurant. You'd start school together the upcoming fall. You'd kiss and make love and enjoy fleeting youth as one. There'd always be rough patches, but in the end you always had each other.
That's how things should have been.
They spiral - crawling to the closest bar to relinquish their pain the only way they knew how beyond finding someone new to bed. The thought of sleeping with anyone that wasn't you made them nearly lose the alcohol poisoning their system. Had you been dating since then? Had you given yourself to someone? Did they make you feel loved and saved - just as they should've
By the end of the night they wound up too drunk to even stand on their own feet. The bartender asked for a number to call to have someone pick them up. They gave the only number they could remember after all these years - and intoxicated.
The drive to their hotel room is quiet. You had nothing to say while they had the world - but none of it was anything you wanted to hear. You just wanted this night to be over so you could go back to forgetting they ever existed.
You help them into their room and give them some water from the sink. Despite everything they've done, you didn't have the heart to leave them like they did you.
"Drink. You need to flush out your system. You'll probably have a headache in the morning, but that's none of my concern."
".....how many people have you slept with, Y/n?"
You place the cup on the nightstand. "This isn't the type of conversation we should have right now."
"Have you been with anyone - or are you still waiting for that special person? I've done a lot of shit I'm not proud of, but at least they've given me experience. I can make your first the best. I can make love to you better than anyone. I already know you better than they do...."
Their hands creep around your waist, hugging your midsection same as they use to on school nights when their parents forbade guests - and you crawled through their window anyway. They always held you like you meant the universe to them. You still do.
Their lips gloss over your exposed stomach as your shirt crawls upwards, heavy tears staining your skin. "Just one night. That's all I need to prove myself to you. We were made for each other. Let's forget about the past for one night and pick up where we left off. A promise is still a promise - even if it's broken.
Their fingers dip below your waistband. You immediately shove them off you and to the floor. "Are you fucking insane?! You can't forget something like what you put me through. I've been so afraid of connecting with anyone because I'm scared they'd just run off like you did. I'm finally becoming me again- and I won't let you take that back from me. Don't call me."
The door slams as you storm out - reverberations their sole companion in their misery. This is the same thing they did to you. They deserve to be alone, to suffer - but they can't. It'll kill them. They can't live without you...and soon enough you won't be to live without them. You're soulmates, meant to be. They have power now - influence. They can support you however you need-
And destory everything that gets in the way of your happy ending.
#yandere#yandere imagines#yandere x you#yandere headcanons#yandere insert#yandere scenarios#yandere x reader#yandere blurb#yandere oc#yandere angst#yandere concept#yandere idea#Yandere cheater#yandere drabble
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once the thrill expires | jjk
title credit: cardigan - taylor swift
pairing: college!jungkook x female reader
synopsis:
your housemate-turned-fwb takes another girl home after a night out
warnings: angsty, smutty turmoil. it's not that bad, but it definitely isn't a happy lil number. fingering, oral sex (f receiving), rimming (f receiving), vaginal sex, doggy, protected (!!) sex, lil spanks, jaykay sorta makes out with her ear???, jaykay is a fawk boy who needs to learn self-control, oc is holding out for something that'll never happen, multiple partners in one night (jk), jk calls the reader diz (dizzy)
wordcount: 5.8K
note from holly: virgo boy trauma for you in the form of a jk one shot lmao. it's rare you get virgo boy shit laid this bare but he he i love oversharing on the internet! there's an old paragraph from yet another virgo boy fic hidden in here, too so if you think it looks familiar, that'll be why!!
minors dni // cross posted to wattpad
The knock on your en-suite bathroom door comes as a surprise.
The subsequent twist of the lock mechanism from a coin wedged in the bolt on the other side does not.
There’s only one person it would be.
And so you don’t yell. Don’t tell him to go away, even if you do hug your legs into your chest a little tighter.
Sitting on the floor of your shower, dignity is preserved - but with skin as red as the flags that Jungkook freely hands you, and mascara staining your cheeks from the onslaught of piping hot water showering down on you, how dignified can you really be?
No words are spoken as the steam billows from the room, Jungkook not caring to shut the door behind himself. He takes a perch on the closed lid of the toilet, elbows to his knees, tattooed hands clasped beneath his chin. Refuses to look anywhere other than you.
There’s perplexion to his taut jaw - a frown embedded in his brows - but more than anything, there’s an overwhelming sense of confusion in his soft eyes. You’re unaware of the way he’s mirroring your expression back at you; how defeated you look, wet hair sticking to the side of your face, an emptiness in your gaze that is pale in comparison to the void in your chest.
With nothing but the pitter-patter of your shower to fill the space, you’re thankful that he can’t hear the way your heart is beating, or how you’re sniffing back the tears you were freely crying before he arrived.
“Jem messaged me,” he eventually says, quiet beneath the sound of the water. Leaning back, he wipes a palm over his face, then pushes it back into his dishevelled hair. Lets his hand fall between his legs, then shrugs as he looks at you as if to say, 'Don’t look at me like that' or 'It’s not my fault.'
And realistically, you know that it isn’t. Whatever he’s done is within the parameters of what was agreed upon. The way you feel - like Jungkook has stolen the moon and stopped the tides from turning - is not.
It’s not like either of you had ever expected to let things get this far, and definitely not for this long.
What had started as quiet kisses in the corners of clubs when your friends weren’t looking, had catapulted into drunken hook-ups after those aforementioned nights out.
He’d call you Dizzy, ‘cause he was convinced you looked at him like you’d been spinning in circles, all awe-struck and smiley. Pretty. Like a giggle was on the tip of your tongue at all times.
Was easy, back then. Convenient. He was newly single. Not looking for anything.
You’d been quietly harbouring an illicit crush on him from the day you moved into your shared university accommodation. Had been waiting for the stars to align - and once they had, you were certain that soulmates had to exist.
It’s the only way you can explain the small earthquake that happened half the world away at the very time you first met, the tectonic plates shifting to make sure you were perfectly presented to one another.
You didn’t feel the tremors - would have been impossible - but your heart certainly felt something. Adrenaline? Limerence? You’re not sure.
Whatever it was only became more and more prevalent with every tipsy hold of his hand on the way to clubs, or moments stolen in secrecy in the house you now share with six of your friends.
Now in your final year of university, if you spent as much time studying, as you do fretting over Jungkook - what he’s up to, who he’s with - maybe you’d get a first-class degree.
You’re on track for a 2:1.
He’s on track for a first, though.
You choose to believe it’s because he’s naturally more academically inclined (as if you didn’t write an entire paper for him last semester), and not because he spends significantly less time thinking about you.
There’s no need for endless thoughts, though.
The arrangement is simple: You’re friends.
Best friends. Spend all your time together. Are plus ones to events. Fill the void that a partner should fill; at the winter balls, cinema screenings you don't want to see alone, and in the hushed privacy of midnight intimacy. He gets you off when you need it, and you him.
Kisses are never shared between lips - apart from that one summer when he accidentally said he was in love with you, then took it back a week later under the guise of not wanting to ‘ruin’ the friendship.
You don’t speak about that summer.
Hook-ups are in your room, always, ‘cause you’ve only got Jem in the room next door. Jungkook’s room is up on the middle floor, surrounded by all the boys. They’d realise what’s going on far too quickly.
It’s simple - yet excruciatingly complicated when there’s a lack of commitment, and Jungkook looks at you in the way that he does.
His lips are a little deeper than their usual pink this evening, but you put it down to alcohol.
Denial is a wonderful thing, and delusion even greater.
Still, he leans forward to push the shower door open. Leans further still, then knocks the tap off. Lets the water trickle down the drain, the hum of the pipes murmuring like your unspoken grievances.
Rivulets of water chase down your skin. Jungkook watches one race from your knee to your ankle, running straight over the bruises from messy nights out and the small cut at the bottom of your calf from the fountain you’d both traipsed through when you were a little too merry a few nights prior.
He’d given you a piggyback the entire way home, blood staining the white of his shirt; the very essence of you embedded now in the fabric of him.
He’d patched you up after you got home. Showered with you, right here, then carried you the measly five or six steps to your bed. Had told you that you’d definitely get sepsis and die. Kissed it better, then decided he didn’t know any better, and trailed his lips up your leg. Took pity on your impending death and gave you a little, lovely death just to soften the blow.
Funny, how you think sepsis would be preferable over whatever the fuck it is that you’re feeling now.
“Jem messaged me,” he repeats. Presses his lips together, the ring in the corner of his mouth glistening under the white lights of the bathroom. “Said I should check on you. Been in the shower for an hour, apparently.”
Well, you think to yourself, bitterness wrapping around your words like poison ivy. You’ve checked. You can go now.
The words don’t manifest in your throat. Nothing does. Not even the echo of a sob you’ve been holding in since he first stepped foot within your sanctuary.
Instead you’re silent as you get to your feet, not caring for your nakedness. It’s nothing Jungkook hasn’t seen before. Probably knows your body better than his own at this point. Can look at the faded bruise on your chest and know that it was left there by his lips last week. Can pick out which ones of your dainty linework tattoos were there before he met you, and which ones have been acquired since.
It’s a quiet intimacy, the way Jungkook looks at you. There’s no towel in the bathroom - an oversight by your tipsy brain when deciding you needed to wash yourself clean of the man in front of you after arriving home from the club - and Jungkook doesn’t care to offer you one.
Insanity is the product of looking at your body, he thinks. Can’t remember a time he’s ever seen you like this and hasn’t wanted to be inside you. He’s a simple man in pursuit of simple pleasures, and the way you fit him like a glove is the simplest pleasure of them all.
“Hm?” He questions your lack of a response.
His deep black eyes are just like the depths of the ocean floor, and it feels like he’s dragging you right down every single time he looks at you like this. Softly. Tenderly. Sweetly. As if he actually gives a shit.
There’s no room for two in this bathroom. It’s not a space designed to be shared, no matter how many times you’ve both squeezed into the shower under far different circumstances - though now you come to think of it, perhaps they weren’t so dissimilar.
It was always Jungkook’s pursuit of pleasure that put you in that position, just like it put you there tonight.
“Hey,” he says quietly, as you turn to leave, his grip on your waist pulling you between his legs. You don’t look at him. Just keep your head turned to face out of the room - but you make no attempt to leave. Especially when his nose brushes up against the bottom of your ribs right between your breasts, and he husks, “Why are you being like this?”
The softness of his lips as he presses them against your sternum, long lashes splayed across the top of his cheeks, has you spiralling. Kind of feels like he’s twisting a corkscrew through your heart. You know he’ll rip it right out - but maybe you’ll let him, if it means he’ll kiss the wound better.
“Hmm?” He hums. One of your hands rests on his shoulder, the other in his hair, and that’s how Jungkook knows he’s rectified the damage done for a short while. It’s like putting washi tape over holes punched in the walls - useless, and bound to fall off eventually, but ever so pretty in the meantime. Another washi-tape kiss is pressed to your skin, a little higher this time. “We had a good night, didn’t we?”
The tenderness of his voice rewrites the events of the evening. A good night.
Not one with tears, and jealousy, and arguments that people who claim to be just friends have no business having. A night shared together, perhaps, with no one else to intrude.
Didn’t we?
You so prefer this false chain of events - the one where he left the bar with you, and held your hand in the cab ride back just like he’d done in the cab ride there.
“Is she still here?”
He’s surprised that you’re mentioning it. Half-expected you to act like it never happened. Like she never happened. Is what you usually do, whenever he goes home with someone that isn’t you.
Still, he just continues to gently stroke your sides. Doesn’t present you with any sort of weakness.
“No.”
“Did you fuck her?”
There’s a little venom to your tone; the poison ivy around your thoughts sprouting now from your throat.
Her. Some inconsequential girl that neither of you will likely ever see again. Looked nothing like you, but a hell of a lot like his ex.
“No, Diz,” he softens the sternness of his tone with a name only he calls you. “I didn’t fuck her.”
You’ve no idea if this is a lie or not.
It’ll be accepted as truth for an hour. Maybe two. Just enough time for you to convince yourself that you’re the one he wants. That he couldn’t bear to fuck anyone else. That he sent her on her way after a kiss or awkward fumble, because he realised no one else could feel as good as you.
You’ll ignore the fact you know he’s here because Jem messaged him.
You’ll ignore the fact he thinks you’ve been in the shower for over an hour, and has no actual knowledge of the events of it all.
You’ll ignore the scratch mark on his back, and in the morning you’ll believe it was you who left there even though your nails are bitten right down.
The lies you’ll tell yourself will be far more grand than the ones Jungkook ever tells you. Nobody can ever hurt you quite like you hurt yourself.
And so, against your better judgement, you let him follow you to your bed.
There's a clang as he tosses his rings down into the ceramic dish beside your bed. It's white, and speckled in tiny black dots, and matches the one Jungkook has in his own bedroom. Not really a surprise. He was the one who bought it for you. Before then, he used to just tuck his rings beneath your pillows - but he kept losing them, and he found it annoying having to rummage around for them whenever he was trying to make a silent exit so as to not wake you.
You tell yourself that small things like this are Jungkook's way of integrating himself into your life; creating permanence. In reality, it's just something that makes it easier for him to leave.
Leaving is the last thing on your mind right now, though, and it will be until he comes.
It used to be different. He used to stay. You convince yourself each and every time that he’ll do what he used to do before things got so confusing. That he’ll stay, and that things will be okay.
You let him kiss your skin, but he’ll never kiss your lips. Let him lay claim to your body, even though you know he’ll never lay claim to your soul.
It’s nice to pretend.
Nice, when he lays you down and rids himself of his shirt. Nice, when he presses your legs apart, and looks at you like you’re the first woman he’s ever laid eyes upon. Nice, when he says shit like, “Such a nice cunt,” and “Let me make you feel good.”
So nice, when he strokes up and down your inner thigh, eyes trained on your pussy.
So, so nice when he slowly drips a little spit between his pursed lips and watches as it trails down your folds.
So fucking nice, when he spreads you with his index and middle finger, groaning at the sight of you.
See, Jungkook can be nice. Can be honest. Can tell you how much he wants you, and you can believe him without having to do mental gymnastics over it all.
As he sinks his middle finger into you - “Shit. So wet for me, aren’t you?” - Jungkook is on his best behaviour. He’ll make you feel so good that you’ll forget he ever made you feel bad, cause he needs this. Needs you.
Not in the life-debilitating, earth-shattering, universe-bending way that you need him, but in a way that isn’t too dissimilar.
You’re his best friend. He loves you in his own, curious way. Would lay his life on the line for you. Just can’t seem to keep his dick in his pants for no other reason than selfish gluttony.
It’s his fatal flaw, but he just thinks everyone has them. That most people are like this.
Of the seven deadly sins, Jungkook wields them all. Too proud to admit his wrongdoings. Greedy in his need to have everything life can offer, and how he refuses to limit himself to just you. His lust and gluttony go hand in hand - yet whenever any one else with similar predispositions look in your direction, he turns green with envy. Green, until he’s red, wrath taking hold.
But he’s lazy, too. Far too settled in how easy it is to have his way with you. Why would he try harder when you never make him?
That’s your cardinal sin: desperation.
It reeks. Spiced vanilla and black cherry. Tarnishes your skin, until Jungkook licks it from you.
And so as his lips press down your legs, wet and wanting, you don’t object. In fact, you don’t really do anything. You just allow it to happen.
Because you are desperate - for him, his approval, his desire. His heart.
You’ll never get it, mind you, for his heart is hollow.
Saw every example of what he considered to be true love crackle and crumble until it fell apart. Parents divorced. High-school sweetheart cheated. Love, as you know it, doesn’t exist in Jungkook’s understanding of life.
You never stood a chance. Not really.
The only times his heart is full is when he steals enough adoration from yours, and cosplays it as his own. Shines it back at you, and tricks you into thinking that maybe he did mean it when he mumbled false declarations into your lips.
But that was three summers ago, now, and Jungkook is a creature of habit. Too stuck in his ways to ever change. Comfortable in this chaos with you.
‘Cause while the other girls are fleeting, and fun, and always very nice, they’re never comfortable. Not like you are.
“I liked your dress tonight,” he whispers, as he pushes a second finger into you. Pumps them gently, palm skywards, coaxing soft little moans from your lips. Curls them just right, just like he always does.
The affection of such a compliment rids you of the haunting way he’d looked at you earlier that evening.
Up, down. No smile. Turned away to change the song coming through the aux at pre-drinks. Didn’t look at you again until he was passing out shots for everyone to take. Just nodded towards your necklace - the one his hobbyist silversmith mother made you for Christmas - and asked, “You like it?”
The pendant is small. Embossed with the letters DJ - the name his mother collectively calls you whenever you spend the summer together at his place. The hammered edge of the pendant matches the ring that wraps around your thumb. Another one of her creations, gifted to you by him for your birthday.
“Of course I do,” you’d said. Seemed silly for him to ask. You wear it most days.
“Good,” he’d nodded, then took his shot and pretended as if he wasn't all too aware that your dress would be attracting good-for-nothing men all night.
See, Jungkook knows you like the necklace. Had just been reminding you of it, and the fact it’s his initial on there with the initial only he calls you. Well, him and his mother. Goes with the territory.
She’s seen you through your formative years. Only ever sees the good parts, because Jungkook orchestrates it that way.
She doesn’t see the moments like these, when he’s crushed your self esteem and tries to fix it in the most idiotic of ways.
The necklace pools around the base of your throat as your head tips back into the pillows, his thumb coming to toy with your clit, gently pressing down.
“Shush, Diz,” he smiles, so pleased to see your body responding in the way that it always does. “You’ll get us in trouble.”
God forbid the people you live with - who’ve all heard the arguments after his illicit encounters with randomers, and seen his face of thunder whenever you’re getting ready for first dates - ever figure out you’re fucking. Not like it’s obvious in the slightest. Not why Jem texted Jungkook, instead of checking on you herself.
Biting onto your wrist, you try and stifle the impact of his touch - ‘cause if they do hear, it will be your fault. You’ll be the reason everyone knows your dirty little secrets. You’ll be the one who ruins it all. Not him. Just you.
He doesn’t mean to condition you in such a way. Doesn’t even really realise he’s doing it.
Nor do you - but your self esteem is shot to shit. You’re good enough to fuck, but not good enough to love, even if Jungkook insists that there’s no one he adores more. It always comes with an add-on of ‘you’re my best friend’, or ‘you wouldn’t wanna date me anyways’.
Maybe he’s right.
But maybe it would have been nice to try.
Shame.
The pace of Jungkook’s fingers pumping into you begins to slow. Leaking around the base of his knuckles, you’re just as wet as you always are with him. Even when the emotional labour of letting him have his way with you feels like a ten tonne weight on your chest, crushing down on your ribs and spoiling you forevermore, your body still wants him. Only him. Always him.
Withdrawing his fingers, Jungkook taps the outer side of your thigh. “On your front for me, Diz. Face down, ass up.”
With anyone else, Jungkook is far more often on the receiving end. It’s a shame, ‘cause his talents go to waste, it’s just what he’s found to be typical of random hook-ups.
He loves pussy. Loves eating it. Loves that you love it, too.
Slow as he spreads your ass with his hands, Jungkook really doesn’t fuck around with wasting time. He dives in without hesitation, burying his tongue between your folds. Cares not for accuracy, nor carefulness. Just wants his tongue all over you.
Your body lurches forward, hands clutching onto the duvet beneath you. He’s always been like this. Hungry. Just as desperate as you so often feel, but better at hiding it than you are.
His tongue laps against you. Sinks into your soaked hole as deep as he can get it. Uses one of his hands to reach around and toy with your clit while he continues to explore somewhere he knows like the back of his hand.
Pulling back a little, Jungkook’s breathing is heavy. You can hear it. Groan, as he grips your ass again. Spanks it softly, then get back to his previous position. Licks a stripe from your clit up to your leaking cunt, then continues. Flicks up against the tight muscle you rarely let him fuck around with.
But you want him to want you. Want him to have you in whichever capacity he so desires.
You reach back. Tangle a hand in his hair, and encourage him to massage your tight hole with his tongue, like you know he loves to do.
It’s kinda cute, in a way. He likes doing it, ‘cause he loves the way it feels whenever your tongue toys with his ass. Assumes other people must love it too. Just wants you to feel good. Wants to right his earlier wrongs.
He continues to trace up and down both your holes, stimulating your entire body in the process. Rubs your clit with his fingers, till you're writhing against the sheets, body pressed flat to the cotton as Jungkook begins to fuck his fingers into your again.
“You gonna cum for me?” He husks, a smile on his wet lips as he watches the tell-tale sign of an orgasm rush over you. Soon, you’ll be looking at him with dizzy eyes once more, and your namesake will make Jungkook feel things he pretends he can’t feel. “That’s it, Diz. All over my fingers. Good girl. Good fuckin’ girl.”
There’s a relief that comes with your orgasm for Jungkook. Hope that you’ll stop being mardy with him. He doesn’t like it when you don’t like him. These days, he keeps making choices that make it hard for you to like him.
But you always like him - like him so much - in the comedown of a climax.
He doesn’t give you much time to recover. Wants to coax a second orgasm from you while he still can. Pulls you back into position - face down, ass up - and pushes down his sweats. Cock hard, there’s a small damp patch in his boxers from the precum he’s leaked for you. Lines himself up.
“Let me fuck you,” he begs before he pushes into you.
“Uh-uh,” you full forward a little, preventing him from doing what he so desperately wants to do. Turning to look over your shoulder, you shake your head. “Condom.”
He furrows his brows. Has the audacity to look fucking offended, as if he didn’t bring another girl back to the house you share.
You’re stupid, and you’re desperate, and you make all the wrong choices, but you aren’t naive. Not really. Your delusions and denial are always elevated away from reality, of which you like to think you have a firm grip on.
And so you simply say, “Don’t believe you didn’t fuck her.”
He doesn’t deny it. Shakes his head, not that you can see it. Just reaches to the shelf above your bed, and gets one from the pot you keep them tucked away in. Rarely ever use them. It’s a novelty, more than not, when you use them. Something to make him last a little longer.
It’s different today.
Today, it’s because you don’t know if his cock is fucking clean or not.
It should crush you, but it doesn’t.
Just a fact of life. Jungkook fucked someone else less than three hours ago. Came, probably. For someone else. Over someone else. Inside someone else.
But that desperation of yours is back once more. You want to be the reason why Jungkook loses his mind in temporary bliss. To be better. To be his last memory of the evening.
And so as Jungkook rolls the condom down his thick shaft, you position yourself perfectly for him. Whimper as the tip of his cock kisses your entrance. Whine, as he pushes inside you.
“That’s it,” he husks, gripping your ass cheeks to spread them nice and wide. Looking down to where your bodies meet, Jungkook is reminded of why he enjoys you so much. No one takes him so well. No one. He knows this. Doesn’t know why the fuck he ever feels the need to seek out anyone else. They’re never as good as this. “Fuck. That’s it, baby.”
Your hips roll back, ass bouncing in that hypnotic way he always swears will ruin him. His grip loosens to let you do the hard work, one of his hands stroking up your spine until it’s resting around the base of your throat.
Taking back a little control, he keeps your head pushed into the pillows. Grunts. “Take this cock so fuckin’ well, don’t you?”
The mumble you moan into the sheets isn’t enough for him. He always does this. Asserts control and then realises he actually kinda fuckin’ hates it. Fingers still wrapped around the base of your neck, Jungkook pulls you up.
Chest pressed to your back, Jungkook wastes no time locking you in place with an arm around the front of your waist. His cock continues to pump upwards into you, the movements a little subdued but by no means lacking.
The ridge of his thick head rubs up against your sweet spot. Gets you so fucking needy. Has your hand dipping to your clit to match the pressure.
And when you do? Oh, it’s heaven. You can’t help but whine - so Jungkook uses the hand that isn't on your waist to cover your mouth.
“You only get to cum if you’re quiet,” he tells you. “Be quiet for me, baby.”
But his hips are erratic. The sounds are lewd; skin on skin. It’s wet. Disgusting. Needy. Him, just as much as you. Sweat blossoms on his skin, keeping you both in this clammy haze of hedonism.
Catching his lips on your ear, Jungkook doesn’t care if he isn’t supposed to let kisses linger so close to your lips. Tongue wet, he intrudes. Licks the shell of your ear. Grazes his teeth on your lobe. Whispers, “You looked so pretty tonight,” then drags his tongue across your ear.
Cares not for precision nor accuracy, just the fact that this is an area of the body he doesn’t often explore, and that maybe he should do it more often, given how tightly your pussy is clamping around him.
There’s something about it - the obstruction of one of your senses likely to blame, sound distorted whenever his tongue licks against it - that makes you whine.
You can’t even really do that now. Are too muffled beneath his hand - until he pushes the two fingers that had been inside your pussy earlier into your mouth.
The taste is just the same as it always is whenever he does shit like this. Loves having you taste yourself. Experiencing what he experiences. Wants you to know exactly why he’s incapable of letting you go.
“Slutty little mouth,” he smirks against your ear. “Gonna finish in it.”
“Mhhm?” you mumble against the fingers you’re keeping wet and warm for him.
“Mhmm,” he replies. Presses a kiss to your temple, ‘cause he isn’t really thinking straight. Groans when your cunt clenches from the touch. “God, you want it, don’t you? Want it so bad. Wanna swallow my cum.”
Of course you do. You’ll take what he’ll give you.
Your mumble around his fingers isn’t enough. He wants to hear you say it. Frees your mouth of himself. Grips your chin between his forefinger and thumb. Turns you to face further over your shoulder.
He’s just gonna make you say it. Just make you say something lewd to get him a little closer. Just… Just gonna… Just...- Oh, fuck it. Your lips are just there, and they’re wet, and they’re pouty and - God, forgive me - perfect for him.
His eyes flitter between your eyes and your lips. Is aware you’re doing the same.
“Kook,” you whisper, as if you’re about to reprimand him.
“Please,” he begs. Thinks he needs this just as much as you do. Maybe even more so.
And so somewhere between the overwhelming acknowledgement that this is a catastrophic chain of events, and the promise of a happy ending (of which you know damn well will never reach fruition), you let him sink his lips into yours.
You’re pretty in war, and even prettier in defeat.
Jungkook thinks you’re prettiest when you’re all his.
You think that to be his is to accept an eternal loss.
The breath of his nose is heavy against your cheek as his lips press into yours, brows furrowed. The need for you to be lewd is abandoned, ‘cause Jungkook doesn’t even think he’ll last long enough for it. Thinks that nothing gets him closer than the flavour of your lips.
Hips still jerking up, the sound of his skin hitting your ass echoing around the room, Jungkook fucks himself into you until he can do it no longer. Pulls away. Rips off his condom. Tosses it to the floor. Gets you face down again. Wanks himself to the point of coming undone, hot spurts of cum dripping onto your ass and spilling down to the valley of your spine.
He’s the one moaning now, your body defiled by a boy who you wish would paint you in pretty compliments instead. Still, this is a compliment. Kind of. You’re hot enough to make him cum. That’s nice, you suppose.
“Shit,” he chokes out, breathing all out of sync, heartbeat far too rapid. A light spank is tapped against your ass, then softly stroked. He soothes. Aloe on sunburn. Milk with hot sauce. Pretty kisses in the comedown of a rough fuck.
You won’t get those. Wasn’t a particularly rough fuck, either - and yet it hurts so much when he gets up to leave.
It’s awkward. He doesn’t really say bye. Doesn’t acknowledge the fact he stoked a fire inside you that burned you from the inside out. Ignores the ashes that are scattered around your vessel, as if your soul has been ejected from its home.
He’s warm, when you look at him. That little part of your heart has been stolen once more. He’s just feeding it back to you.
“Sorry,” he says, a hand on your doorknob. “I shouldn’t- I mean, we shouldn’t-”
“It’s fine,” you offer.
That’s the thing about Jungkook. He’ll give you the world, then realise it was never his to give. Always has to ask for it back. You’ve lost count of how many times he’s fucked you, then acted as if was foolish - only to repeat the same mistakes the next evening.
It’s what he’s always done, and is what he’ll always do.
You’ll never learn.
The shirt you chuck on to head downstairs the next morning is his.
Far too big for you, it finishes around your thighs. Television blaring in the room beneath you, it’s obvious your housemates are awake, and even as you’re trudging down the stairs, you’re not quite sure you’re alive.
The headache of an overbearing hangover is threatening your life. You’re certain of it. The fact your housemates have the television set to what must be the maximum volume? Only further sending you to an early grave.
And yet when you see Jungkook sitting by the breakfast bar, hair in all different directions, a bowl of cereal in front of him, and smiling in the direction of whomever else is in the room, you find yourself smiling, too.
“Morning,” you say pleasantly as you walk into the kitchen, ready to flop your forehead down on Jungkook’s shoulder like you so often do.
Ready, until you notice the look in his eyes when he turns to face you.
Ready, until you glance in the direction of his previous smile.
Ready, until you see the girl who looks a lot like his ex-girlfriend and absolutely nothing like you leaning on the other side of the counter. Mug from your trip to Amsterdam together in her hands, and the shirt you got him for his birthday covering her body, she smiles.
You’re drowning.
“Oh,” you say, not looking at him. Only her. “I didn’t realise we had company.”
“Is she still here?”
“No.”
She’s awkward as she nods. “Sorry, hey. I crashed here last night - hope you don’t mind? It’s just you know what it’s like getting an uber at that time-”
“Yeah, yeah,” you nod. Smile. Jungkook thinks you look pretty - but of course he does. You look defeated. “Totally.”
“Did you fuck her?
“No, Diz. I didn't fuck her.”
“Jungkook said you were feeling unwell last night?” She tries to make conversation. She needn’t. You feel far more unwell now than you ever did last night - and that’s before you notice the pretty purple bruise forming on her neck. “How are you feeling now?”
Her care is kind. Considerate. Wholly wasted on you because you’re gonna lie, and say that you’re fine, even though it feels as if your lungs have been filled with venom spat by a lover who is incapable of loving.
Still, you don’t look at Jungkook. Just make your excuses. Leave.
And even though he knows that he should, Jungkook doesn’t chase after you.
He lets you go, because he knows you’ll always come back. You always do.
But if you don't?
Well, he’ll go back to you, and you’ll let him. Again, you always do.
From the kitchen, Jungkook can hear your showering starting up. Appetite lost, he isn’t listening to the girl in front of him. Isn’t even really sure of her name.
All that he’s sure of is that the fall out of this is not gonna be pretty.
#jungkook fanfiction#jungkook angst#jungkook smut#jungkook ff#jk ff#jungkook masterlist#jungkook fic#jungkook x reader#jungkook x you#jungkook x oc#jeon jungkook smut#bts fanfic#byholly#angst#smut#jungkook x y/n#fuckboy!jungkook#college!jungkook#college au
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Maybe I’m reliving a past trauma?
#is that what it is?#I'm quite frankly not handling the weight of my own consciousness very well. I forget all my jokes. what if I forget something great. I have#gaps in my memory. supposed arrogance aside; there is continuity to my day. it's just bits. bits. bit after bit; after#bit. and cut up. so my day isn't in a straight line. there's the thing that'll happen; and then there is after it. well-- first; there is ev#ery thing before it. and that is all well and good. but after? not good. very not good. it feels bad. and I can't stop time. I can't remembe#r anything. time keeps moving forward. and i can't remember what happened at the time of the thing. I can't remember what happened before it#and I can't move on. I'm stuck. is this mania. it can't be. I hardly feel happy. (but it definitely has some qualities of it) so we needn't#ake things too literally.#mania. flight; unease; unrest#; too much all at once. basically. I'm afraid my brain is picking things to be anxious about. it's no longer just one thing in particular. i#t's everything; everything is a danger. everything is traumatizing. everything surrounding us is a threat to our safety. and is the reason r#eal; or made up. I don't know. I just know it fucking sucks. to say the least. I was doing fine. and then a thing happened. why did it have#to happen. I don't know. a person sighing at you; just ruining your peace. noise. disrupting your mental processes. that's all it is; mental#processes disturbed. that's all it is really. ~#it's too much to handle. one thing after another. no way to cope. accept or agress. what do I do. and when you're coping with one thing; and#then another thing happens. what do you do then? do you worry? there isn't anything to do. it wasn't supposed to fucking happen. ~
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house arrest 3
afab!mc x beelzebub
description: NSFW, you are confined to your room for your own protection. But how long will that last when the only thing standing between you and your housemates is a door and some willpower? Would Beel pass the marshmallow test?
warnings: Capital B breeding kink with talks of impregnation, babies, afab reader with she/her pronouns. Talk of emotional eating. Dubcon warning!!! This one turned out sounding kind of sketch in places, but actions depicted are intended to be consensual. Size kink.
Note: reader is described as being shorter and smaller than Beel, but I tried not to go into specifics. so just scale Beel in your mind to however big he'd have to be to be significantly larger than you.
|| Intro || Mammon || Asmo (mini) || Levi || Satan (mini) || Beel || Lucifer (mini) || Asmo || Belphie (mini) || Belphie || Barbatos (mini) ||
For the past few days, Beezlebub had been eating his feelings.
He was a menace in the kitchen, he could admit it. Since breakfast three days ago, no meals were able to be prepared to completion without interference from the sixth-born. Occasionally, one of his brothers would try to separate him from the fridge where he had set up camp, but each attempt only served to make him more irritable and territorial, less like himself. It soon became clear that their efforts were not worth the struggle and creative measures were implemented to allow for some form of cookery.
Belphagor hovered as much as his fatigue would permit, worried for his twin. Left unspoken for the sake of Beel's dignity, Belphie understood intrinsically the depth of the hunger you had unlocked in his brother. It was a terrifying force to be reckoned with, one that could very easily boil over into something disastrous.
At this late hour, Beel was alone, Belphie having retreated to the attic for yet another nap. Four puddings pushed down the memory of your scent for the nth time. Twelve poisoned apples for how his hands dwarfed your tiny shoulders. A couple boxes of leftover takeout to smother your big doe eyes looking up at him before the first shove kicked off a regretful fight between his brothers.
Guilt weighed like an albatross around Beel's neck. He loved his family- you were included in that. You rounded out their group in a way that felt complete. Beel wasn't always the most articulate demon, but his feelings were genuine and acute; sometimes overwhelmingly so.
"Oh, hey."
He felt sick.
Beel twisted to see you over his shoulder, refrigerator door still halfway open. You were standing in the kitchen doorway, looking unsure, picking your fingernails. You looked so small.
"I was going to get something to drink," You said, as if you needed an excuse to be there.
He smiled at you and hoped it was reassuring, "I think there's some juice left."
"Thanks, that'll work," You returned the grin, relieved he broke the tension first. He sat the carton on the counter and stepped aside.
See? You could both be normal about this.
“I feel like it’s been forever since I’ve seen you,” You mused, getting yourself a glass from the cupboard, “I’m going stir-crazy in there.”
Beel leaned against an opposite counter, “How much longer are you locked down for?”
“Ugh, I don’t know, two or three more days, maybe?” You mirrored him from across the room, “I hope Lucifer doesn’t think I’m doing this every month. Absolutely not.”
Every month.
This was going to happen every month? Indefinitely? He felt light-headed. How was he supposed to contend with this on a regular basis? A month was nothing.
“You okay?” You asked, shaking Beel from his thoughts.
“Yeah,” He replied, “Are you at least eating enough?”
“No complaints there,” You shrugged, sipping your drink, “Anyway, I should head back.”
The words came out reflexively the moment your back was turned: “I missed you.”
“I missed you, too,” You beamed back at him, stopping in your tracks. You were so pretty when you smiled. He felt his heart speed up.
“Can I walk you back?” He asked, knowing very well he shouldn't, but not ready to say goodbye just yet.
You hesitated for only a moment, "Yeah, I'd like that."
___
Trying to keep pace with you was always a little awkward, given your much shorter stride. Beel was used to waiting up for others after a few millennia of adapting to Belphie's slothful movements. Still, the urge to scoop you up and carry you with him tugged at his fraying nerves. Would you mind? You'd let him do it before…
Even if you did mind, it'd be easy, he thought, to simply hook an arm around your waist and lift you like a fangol ball. You could wiggle and fight as much as you wanted, but realistically, you were physically no match for the most average of demons, let alone one such as himself. Especially if caught by surprise, with no time for magic (or pact orders) to level the playing field. Despite all of your time spent in the Devildom, your trusting nature left you wide open to any number of those with ill intent. It was like you refused to understand that humans were prey.
Which is why you needed to be here, with him them, Beel reminded himself. To keep you safe. Because, right now, you were all but screaming to be devoured.
Sweat dotted his brow. Maybe going with you was a mistake. Without a constant stream of food to distract himself, his thoughts were drifting to dark and unfamiliar territory. Even tucked under his arm, were you really safe? He swallowed the rapidly pooling spit in his mouth, chewing on the discomforting idea.
"Well, this is my stop," You said, breaking the uneasy silence that had formed between you. Your hand hovered on the doorknob, but neither of you moved. He was certain you could read the distress all over his face. You were good at that sort of thing.
"Do you want to talk about it?" You asked gently, twisting the handle.
"I don't know," He replied, honest as ever, "I want to spend more time with you, but I'm worried."
"That you'll hurt me?"
He nodded, "Or worse."
You seemed to consider his words carefully. You studied his expression, though what you were searching for was unclear. Finally, you shrugged as if it were the most obvious answer in the world.
"I'm not worried," You said, pushing open your bedroom door, "I trust you."
___
Beel loved his family. He loved you.
But he could stand for there to be more of you.
It was his single-minded focus, and had been since… since however long it had been that you'd allowed him into your room, he supposed.
You entered first. You showed your back to him and he went after you, blinded by instinct. Time was fuzzy after that. Later, Beel would go through and make sense of things. Right now, with your cunt squeezing him so deliciously, the only semi-coherent thought in his head was breeding you over and over and over again.
"More, one more," He slurred almost apologetically. If he could feel the satisfaction of cumming deep inside your tight little body just one more time, then he would be sated. Maybe. Probably.
You were like jelly, eyes rolled back, reduced to wordless noises while he bounced you on his cock. Your arms hung loose around his neck, legs locked around his waist. Dark marks bloomed across your skin, purple bruises in the shape of hands and teeth despite his best efforts to keep your trust. It took everything he had not to break your soft, salty skin when he tasted you. He mouthed at whatever exposed flesh he could reach, desires and intentions blurring hopelessly together into a confusing mess.
You fell against him with a pathetic cry as another orgasm was pulled from your poor, overstimulated body. You were trembling uncontrollably. He curled protectively around you, kissing your sweat-slicked temple and murmuring sweet praise that bubbled up through his mental haze. You were taking him so well, please, just one more for him, please, one more so he could make absolutely sure you wound up carrying his babies- and why stop at one? You were going to be gorgeous pregnant, working so hard to make their family even bigger, giving him even more people to love. Fuck– he couldn't get enough of you.
He felt a tightening in his core that signaled he was close. He held you in place, bottoming out when he bucked up into you. Stretched obscenely full, your walls pulsed around him, milking his cock for all he could give. You groaned something that sounded like his name muffled into his chest, your desperate keening triggering his own release. His previously rhythmic grunting built into a low growl as he pumped thick ropes of cum deep into your already stuffed cunt. Beel let out a small whine feeling some of his seed dripping out around him. It wasn't fair. It all belonged to you.
A brief moment of clarity washed over him in the wake. He knew you were tired- exhausted, actually, judging by your adorable fucked-out expression. That was okay, he could help. He'd get you cleaned up and into fresh pajamas before taking you upstairs to rest together in his bed.
Consequences be damned, he was going to keep you close. He knew Belphie wouldn't mind. Besides, what if he needed more later?
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I need a part in the penny verse where the whole Eddie telling baby bump penny that her mom is going to be a MILF comes into play.
Like one we day the reader is picking up penny from school and maybe another kids dad flirts with her or like a new neighbor of theirs does and maybe Eddie’s reaction to that
Not even gonna front with you, I've been sitting on this for a min because I wrote it and then freaking forgot about it. I did take some creative liberties, but I think you'll like what I got for ya. Ps, ‘baby bump penny’ had my heart throwing up, I always forget that we get her in different phases of her existence and she was once in reader’s belly 🥹💘
to everyone else, sorry, I can't link shit but this is a follow up to a ton of other pennyverse entries so you can search that on my tumblr until the links work again. and i'm trying the keep reading cut again, let me know if it fucks up the post.
(dad!eddie munson x mom!reader)
Summary: Something's been bothering you these last couple of weeks and you won't tell Eddie what it is. Like that'll stop him, he's determined to figure it out.
warnings: a creepy (and freaking terrible) dad hits on reader, implied unwelcome advances, crude comments about reader and the female body (eddie sets this fucker straight), protective!eddie :)
Eddie knew you. He knew every fiber of your being, every marker in your past, all the ways you liked to style your hair, how you decided on what makeup to put on that day—if you even wore any—,the different types of silence you’d sink into and what they meant, your body (god, he was intimately in tune with it), and every different smile you wore. Eddie knew you.
He just didn’t know exactly what went on in that beautiful head of yours. Eddie was positive he had a sixth sense catered only to you, it’d let him know whenever there was something wrong, something bothering you. It prompted him to approach you, watch you even more than he already did. Putting himself metaphorically in your shoes usually helped him figure it out the rest of the way, but for this particular occurrence, he had nothing to go on.
For the past couple of weeks, since Penny had started preschool, you’d moved your work schedule around to go in earlier so you’d be out in time to pick Penny up from school and snag the baby from Maude and Wayne, who watched him while you and Eddie were at work.
Eddie noticed a change in you. It was minor at first, a little frazzled when he’d get home, but you hid it well. Now, you looked bothered. Always zoned out, with a frown on your face. You never left the house like that, always gave him and the kids kisses before you went on your merry way (well, as happy as you could be going to a desk job), so it had to be something that happened after you left home that bothered you.
It wasn’t work, you’d rant to Eddie about it if you had a bad day but you liked to leave work problems at your desk when you left it, something about not being paid to worry or think about work after hours.
It bugged the fuck out of him. He’d tried to approach the subject before, leaving you openings to tell him what was going on but you always shrugged it off and went on about your day as if you hadn’t been upset over something. You couldn’t hide it completely, though. Not from Eddie, he could still see those split seconds where your mind wandered off and the corners of your lips twitched down.
Given how stubborn you were, Eddie decided he’d need to take a more hands on approach. Since he suspected something was happening after you left home in the mornings and before he got home from work, he’d have to be present for that timeframe.
He’d left work around lunchtime, Norm was understanding about it and didn't really care all that much since it was a relatively slow day for business.
His son had been delighted when he picked him up from his Grandpa and (grandma) Maude’s, squirming and wiggling in her hold until Eddie got a hold of him. Baby Wayne had immediately placed his hands on Eddie’s jaw, urging his dad to bend his head so he could rest his forehead against his own, those big eyes of his fluttering shut the moment they connected and soft coos of dada mumbled in between them, unlike Penny had, Wayne caught onto the baby babble of mama and dada. Penny hadn’t because one of you was always helicoptering around her so Princess Penny hadn’t felt the need.
Eddie would never get over how much his baby seemed to love cuddling with his parents, everytime baby Wayne was affectionate, he turned into goo, melting in his chubby hands. They lingered in the trailer for a couple of minutes while Eddie and big Wayne discussed how things were going in the apartment, though it had been more than a year since they’d moved in. Naturally, Wayne had asked why he was stopping by so early to pick up the baby so your change in demeanor came up in conversation.
“Mmm, I been noticin’ ‘er actin’ odd whenever she comes to pick up little man. Seems fine when she gets ‘ere. ‘S when she leaves, she seems a little…”
“Hesitant?” Eddie supplied and Wayne nodded, mouth pressed in a firm line.
It was then that Maude Maple spoke up, something the widow rarely did in the presence of anyone other than Wayne, and it was with great hesitance.
“She—she mentioned something once, about the pick up at Penny’s preschool. She didn’t go into too much detail, I think she’s bothered by it.”
“Looks like I’m on pick-up duty today.”
After leaving Wayne and Maude’s and asking the latter to give you a call at work to let you know he picked the baby up, Eddie spent the rest of the afternoon with baby Wayne. It involved a food fight—yes, Eddie flung some back at him, he had it coming, when Wayne had decided he was done being fed and done with food that wasn’t coming from your boob so he’d thrown the macaroni at his dad’s face—a shared shower to rid evidence of said food fight, jamming out (terribly) on toy musical instruments before Eddie gave him a bottle and some cuddles while he put Wayne down for his nap. . . And fell asleep with him.
You came home to a suspiciously quiet apartment, a little too clean, save for a couple of toys in the living room. You found your boys in Wayne’s nursery, both of them in the crib.
It was a heartwarming and comical sight, Eddie’s legs were dangling outside of the crib and the baby was curled up on his chest, though he stirred at the sound of the door opening, pushing himself up off his dad as he blinked lazily at you, mouth parting to reveal a couple of little white nubs in his gummy smile, teeth coming in.
He cooed softly, once. When you didn’t immediately go pick him up, he let out a stream of coos, loud and demanding but still loving as he tried to entice you over. When you still stood there giggling, he got mad, seemingly joining you in your laughter with his fake and very forced sounding baby laugh which quickly morphed into fake cries as he pushed himself to his feet and stood on Eddie’s chest, clinging to the bars of his crib as though he were a locked up criminal.
Eddie groaned, hands moving to grab your son and you finally made your way over, picking Wayne up—much to his utter delight—to relieve Eddie of his weight.
“Ouch, dude. You can’t just stand on people like that, it’s rude.” He croaked out, as his son’s weight was lifted off of his chest.
Eddie couldn’t even be annoyed, not when he could see Wayne scrambling eagerly in your arms, face rubbing into your neck, chest, cheek, anywhere the little guy could reach in his desperation and excitement to be as close as he could to his mama.
After giving Wayne’s tummy some tickles, amplifying his excited wiggles with a few ‘so excited, so excited’s, you leaned over so the both of you could stare down at Eddie, amusement cloaking your pretty features.
“I think it might be time to get you a big boy bed.”
Eddie huffed out a laugh and then groaned once more as he tried to sit up as much as he could, which wasn’t a whole lot given the fact half of him was hanging out of the crib.
“This is gonna be fun,” he mumbled, but eventually he was able to maneuver himself out of it without breaking it. He placed his hands on his lower back, arching until it gave away to a satisfying pop.
“Oh, yeah. That’s good.”
“Daddy’s so silly, huh?” You asked your son, bouncing him in your arms as you placed a kiss on his curly head before directing your next question to Eddie, “Is everything okay, baby?”
“Just peachy, honey.” He was definitely gonna have to ask you to rub his back tonight. “Wanted to have some one-on-one time with him, even if he regularly abandons me the moment you’re in sight.”
Eddie reached a finger out to tickle Wayne’s stomach, smirking when he laughed and tried to hide further in your hold.
You smiled at their interaction, though the joy quickly flitted from your expression, “Do you want to watch him? While I go pick up Penny?”
Another obvious tell something was wrong: you’d chosen to come home, put an intentional stop between getting off of work and picking up Penny. It was almost as though you needed time to prepare yourself, which was a giant freaking red flag to Eddie considering you used to drive straight over to her school and wait for her.
“Why don’t you stay with him? I can go pick her up.”
The light returned to your eyes.
“Really? I mean—I don’t mind, I don’t want to get in the way of your bonding time.”
“He’s clearly over me,” The sentence was whispered at his son with fake aggression, which left Wayne a giggling mess once more, Eddie chuckled and gave his son’s chin an affectionate squeeze and wiggle, “I’ll pick up Princess Penelope, she loves the disapproving looks people give me.”
“Shut up!” You laughed, leaning up to give him a kiss before he snatched his keys off the counter.
“I’ll see you soon, beautiful.”
“Say bye-bye to daddy!” You encouraged your baby, bouncing him a little against your hip.
“Buh-buh.” He waved his chunky little hand, smiling wide for his dad.
When Eddie collapsed into the door, hand clenched over his heart, you added, “Blow daddy a kiss!”
Baby Wayne lifted his palm to his mouth briefly before extending his arm out in Eddie’s direction, “Mah!”
Eddie pretended to catch it, smacked the invisible kiss over his mouth and blew one right back at his baby before he forced himself out the door.
His kid was so cute, it was a federal offense.
The drive to Penny’s preschool was short, thanks to living close by. Eddie hopped out of the van–he and a couple of the guys from the shop installed a backseat prior to Penny’s birth–and made his way to the waiting area. Eddie had never gone to a preschool as a kid so he couldn’t exactly judge the pick up and drop off routine, but Penny’s preschool rarely allowed anyone in. They simply walked up to one of the entrance doors, rang a special doorbell attached to the building, and one of the teachers or aides or whatever would verify the adult picking them up if they didn’t recognize them and then bring the kid out.
Which meant Eddie had to stand around with other adults. There’d been a couple of them already waiting when he’d arrived, so he’d made himself comfortable on a nearby column as he waited, mind once more preoccupied with reasons as to why you didn’t seem to enjoy picking Penny up anymore. You liked Penny’s teacher, could it be one of the aides giving you a hard time?
No. That’s something you would have told him.
Eddie was so distracted, he hadn’t noticed another body settle against the wall across from him.
“You a new dad? Haven’t seen you around before.”
“What?” Eddie blinked, roused from his thoughts. The guy across from him looked like he was in his mid thirties, dressed in a skeezy suit that looked like it belonged on a car lot rather than an office, and had really big, overly white teeth he couldn’t seem to put away.
“Not a new dad, a new dad to this school. Although, you do look a little young.” The stranger clarified with a shrug.
There was something about him that Eddie immediately disliked. He could tell this was not only their first interaction, it would also be their last.
“No, I usually do the drop off.” Eddie stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jacket, eyes flashing back to the entrance door just in time to make eye contact with one of the aides, he saw the recognition in her eyes before she closed the door again and felt less annoyed with the situation knowing she’d be retrieving Penny.
He hadn’t really left room for conversation, but the guy still continued.
“Gotcha, gotcha.” His head bobbed around, Eddie thought if he listened carefully enough, he could hear his brain rattling in there, “I used to be on drop off duty myself, but I hated getting the kids ready. I’ve got four of those little monsters, every little task takes goddamn near twenty minutes.”
Oh, no. This guy didn’t say it with annoyance, no, he seemed contemptuous when he talked about his kids. Eddie didn’t like that.
“Wouldn’t be so bad if my wife could just get a grip on them,” Maybe she could if she had help, you’re clearly useless, “Name’s Neil, by the way.”
Eddie just raised his chin in acknowledgement.
One would think ol’ Neil would catch on to Eddie not wanting to talk to him, but one would be wrong.
“Yup. ‘S why I’m not on drop off duty. Sure, the pick up has its faults, kids always smell like a stale fart from all that running around and they’re babbling non-stop the whole ride, but I think you’ll find you’ll like being on pick-up duty,” Then he leaned in, like he was telling a secret and whispered out, “Most of the hot moms do the pick-ups.”
That sixth sense Eddie had for you? Yeah, it was on freaking fire, hot red and jumping around. He was positive he now knew the reason behind your discomfort with picking Penny up.
Some fucking creep wouldn’t leave you alone.
Eddie’s jaw ticked, hands clenched into fists from the insides of his pockets. He didn’t say anything, but that wasn’t necessary with this guy.
“Man, you should see some of them. You gotta wonder why they only have one kid, I’d be all over that.” He gave a low whistle before he let out the most unflattering of cackles.
“You missed most of the show, but there’s this one mom–god, the body on this one. . .and she’s always done up, think she works in an office or something, but she’s a sight for sore eyes. A real MILF. She’s only got one kid, too. Little girl she picks up, so you know she’s tight.”
Eddie would be committing a crime, because he knew he was talking about you. He was going to murder this asshole. He was gonna strangle Neil with his own intestines and get rid of the body in the town dump where he belonged.
He must have not noticed the crazed glint in Eddie’s eyes because the idiot kept going, “I know what you’re thinking, I’m not actively planning on doing anything. Haven’t seen her in a couple of days, pretty sure she’s working late or something because she’s gotta be snatching this kid up late. Heard she’s married to some greasy mechanic and a pretty little thing like that coming to pick up her kid with these dads around? Shit, I wouldn’t be letting her out of the house. He’s signing her up for this. You gotta wonder if she likes the attention. She’s got this shy thing going on, though. Always so meek when I’m chatting her up. Not like my wife.”
Neil’s face contorted in disdain, “Four fucking kids, man.”
Okay, Eddie would be murdering him on behalf of you, and his wife. And the rest of the human population.
He’d had enough, it was time to make sure this shit wouldn’t be continuing.
“You got any pictures?” Eddie asked, feigning interest for the first time since he’d come up to him.
Neil scoffed and dug around in his pocket, “Wife won’t let me go anywhere without them, you know how it is. Constant reminders and all that, like she doesn’t trust me to not forget.”
Eddie tried not to snatch the photo out of his slimy hands, frown deepening when he realized Neil’s story about having a wife and kids was not in fact made up. Four beaming little faces stared back up at Eddie, with a pretty fifth smile in the picture. She was severely out of her husband’s league, seemingly juggling all the responsibilities on her own, all of them underappreciated and unfortunately stuck with him.
“Beautiful family,” He commented, eyes flashing to the door just as it opened to reveal Penny and the aide.
He returned the photo and pulled out his wallet from his pocket by its chain. Eddie flashed the photo inside to Neil, who immediately looked like he was going to shit himself.
The photo was of you sitting on the couch, Wayne sitting between your legs and Penny standing on the cushion next to you, clutching your shoulder as you all smiled for him.
Eddie slipped the wallet back into his pocket, and just as Penny began to run over, he leaned in to whisper like Neil had earlier, “Here’s what’s gonna happen: you're not ever gonna talk to my wife again or I’ll fuck you up. If you so much as look in her direction, I’ll kill you. If you think about her, I’ll beat you 'til the bones of my knuckles break through the skin. I’ll make sure you experience pain like you’ve never felt before. Bones can heal, but I promise you they don’t grow back, you pathetic fucking worm. You don’t deserve your wife, who gave you four fucking beautiful children, and you don’t deserve your kids, either. If I ever see her in public, I’m gonna tell her that so you’d better start appreciating her now. I’ve got a friend who wants a ton of kids and I’m sure he wouldn’t mind me sending him their way. Got it?”
Neil, good ol’ clammy, pale faced Neil swallowed hard and silently nodded as Penny finally reached him, arms already outstretched.
Eddie swooped her up before she ran into him, relishing in the way her arms wrapped tightly around him in a hug.
And this fucker was annoyed to have four little people who gave him these.
“Hi, sweet pea! Daddy’s just gonna finish up this conversation with Neil here and we’ll head home to mama, okay?”
Penny nodded eagerly, turning her head to stare inquisitively at the man she knew was her friend Izzy’s dad.
Eddie took Penny’s backpack off of her with her help and slid it over his free arm, “I’m glad we understand each other, Neil. And if we don’t, my buddy Steve’s on speed dial.”
He smirked as he walked away, leaving Neil both dumbstruck and terror stricken. Eddie didn’t even stop when he recalled a small inaccuracy Neil had mentioned, calling over his shoulder, “And we have two kids!”
What a jerk.
“Tell me about your day?” Eddie asked as he slid open the backseat door and leaned forward so Penny could climb into her booster seat.
“Oh, boy, daddy! It was long! First, teacher said we were gonna draw with crayons but she change-ed her mind and we got to paint with our fingers instead!”
She displayed her clean, paint free fingers for him as Eddie buckled her in, “Oh, yeah? Did you paint me a picture?”
“Yeah, ‘s in my pack pack. But we only gotted to paint for a little while ‘cause Stanley tried to eat it.”
“Not again, Stanley.”
“I know!”
Penny filled him in the rest of the drive home, while he got her out of her seat, the entire walk into the apartment building, only stopping when he opened the door for her and she caught sight of you.
“MOMMY!” She let go of Eddie’s hand to run into your waiting arms.
“Hi, baby! Did you have a good day at school?” You asked after you’d gotten in a good cuddle squeeze.
“Uh huh! I painted with my fingers!” Penny ran back to Eddie and dug around in the backpack now dangling at his side until she retrieved a very poorly folded piece of thick paper.
“I gotta show Waynie, first!”
She bypassed you and ran straight for her baby brother, who was clutching the seat cushion of the couch and bobbing up and down. He’d be walking any day now.
Eddie set Penny’s yellow backpack down on the counter as he closed the distance between you, arms wrapping around your middle to pull you flush up against him.
“I don’t know how you do it, they make you wait forever.” He groaned, pressing his forehead to yours as you laughed.
“It’s not that bad!”
“Yeah, well, regardless, you should be having a much easier time picking her up.”
It was easy for you to read between the lines and pick up his real meaning. Your eyes widened in surprise for a moment before they softened, and you leaned further into him, hands resting on Eddie’s shoulders.
“Thank you.”
You’d been afraid to mention the invasive and unwelcome attention you’d gained from one of the dads. Ashamed. He’d been vulgar, blatant and creepy. Even on the days he wouldn't approach you, you could still feel his eyes on you, on your body. It made you feel gross and cheap, even though you hadn’t done anything wrong. You’d politely tried to get away from him when you’d find yourself in that situation, but where you went, he followed. Soon, you’d begun waiting in your parked car until Neil left, and when that wasn’t good enough, you’d either go home and wait until just before they closed–which you hated because you didn’t like to keep Penny waiting there when she could be at home–or wait in the parking lot at work until you’d make it when all the other kids were mostly gone.
It was draining, and made you dread the end of the work day.
“You never have to thank me,” Eddie leaned down just as you leaned up to kiss him, mouths mingling a little more on the wet side since you knew neither of your kids’ attention was on you. When you finally broke away, Eddie licked his lips and sighed.
“Seriously, though. I don’t know how you do it. Men are gross and creepy, I wanted to deck him before he even really said anything. And what he did say–ugh. Let me know if you see his head turn in your direction, honey, ‘cause I made a promise I’m eager to not break.”
You hummed appreciatively as you leaned up for more kisses, “My hero.”
#pennyverse#dad!eddie munson#dad!eddie munson x reader#dad!eddie munson x mom!reader#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson#dilf!eddie munson#stranger things#stranger things fanction#stranger things 4#stranger things volume 1#stranger things volume 2#stranger things vol 2#stranger things vol 1#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson x black!reader#eddie munson x you#joe quinn x reader#joseph quinn x reader#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson fanfic#girl dad!eddie munson#queenimmadolla
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Okay guys.
Dragon Danny, this time not eastern.
BUT HEAR ME OUT, HEAR. ME. OUT.
He's made of....
GOO!
Not just any goo, obviously. But ectoplasmic goo :3
This au is gonna be disconnect from both the Ghost King and Ghost Prince headcanon I should say. Instead of being king of all ghosts, he's basically like...
A mega Blob ghost.
King of the Blob ghosts, even.
Like, basically the equivalent of those giant slime monsters or that King slime boss from Terraria but a dragon!
Whenever he's in dragon form, he can choose if he wants legs or not, if he doesn't, he basically just moves like, well, a snail. Obviously faster than a snail, but still. He doesn't leave a trail behind most of the time though, because he actually needs that stuff thank you very much and leaving a trail behind is pretty messy obviously.
Whenever he uses legs he just walks as any other two legged creature.
Because of his unique biology, he can basically shift between Eastern and Western dragon form at will. He can manipulate his body far more than that, but anyways.
So, Danny has outlived his friends and family, so there isn't much for him to really, well, do anymore. Like, at all.
The GIW was and still is persistent as ever though. Even if he's outlived the original members that were gunning for him.
Apparently, becoming a goo dragon and ascending to his status as King of the Blob ghosts bumped up both his valuableness and his threat simultainously.
Which he guesses is fair because if he saw a guy turn into a giant dragon and he doesn't have a positive relationship with he would see him as a threat too.
So, how did this lead to him being locked up inside of a heavily fortified base created explicitly for him to be contained within.
Well, funny story that (It's not).
He was just minding his business, having recently broken out of another containment facility by the GIW to try and contain him, and he went back to the forest near Amity Park to just chill as he always did.
A few... weeks? Months? He honestly couldn't remember, he was confronted by the GIW. Didn't take them seriously, got this gas/liquid thing shoved inside of him, knocked out, then woke up in contaiment.
Which is basically a giant hole in the ground.
Except that it's a high-tech hole in the ground.
Something, something, ectoplasmic suppressors or whatever that leave him less able to manipulate his own ectoplasm, which is a bummer. He can still manipulate it, of course, just to a far less degree than he could've before, along with that liquid that'll be pumped into him via some metal round in the ground directly below him whenever he gets too rowdy.
Well.
Consider him effectively contained.
So, time passes, how much he couldn't tell you since his concept of time is warped after living for so long plus, it's not like anyone there would really tell him if he asked now would they?
However, today seemed to be an exciting day, because something was happening.
He could see it in the way scientists scramble for an exit and how the guards run through his area. Of course, some still stay to 'guard' him, since he thinks he's some kind of priceless item.
A scientist's words, not his, but being referred to as priceless is nice.
And then wouldn't you know it?
That one scientist that said they would do their best to help him actually pulled through with their words! Thanks, Henry, he has decided that he will not kill you!
(He wasn't going to do it anyways, but it's fun to scare people.)
With both the guards gone, the ectoplasmic suppressors down, and no one to stick that liquid shit into his system.
Well.
You can say he finally gets to go apeshit.
And a dragon is a formidable foe any day. Add to that a rampaging, bored of his mind, petty, dragon that's able to manipulate himself however he wants?
Even better situation for him, how the facility is seemingly being raided right now!
Danny then, no warning, shoves Henry inside of himself. For protection, and then continues his rampage.
Meanwhile, the Justice League, the ones raiding said facility, is currently here because of the Anti-Ecto Acts.
A set of laws they do not, and will not, stand by.
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